Revenge (13 page)

“Because I have no choice.
You
have no
choice. You think you have hardened your heart. But it will break
just the same.” Dom’s first wife had died in childbirth; the baby,
a boy, had been stillborn.

Dom stared at the dark window that looked
over the garden and the lake, even though he could see only his own
reflection. “It won’t.”

“For your sake, I hope it does.”

“You would wish that on me
again
?”

Enrico softened his voice. “I’ve learned life
is not worth living without love.”

Dom snorted. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“I’m being honest.” He waited a moment, then
continued. “Do you love your children any less because Angelo
died?”

Dom avoided Enrico’s gaze, then shook his
head, his voice hoarse when he answered. “No. But I do not love
Francesca the same as Vanda.”

“That is your choice.”

“I learned my lesson. When will you learn
yours?”

“That is a lesson I don’t care to learn.”

“I can’t allow you to continue to put our
family at risk over this woman.”

“I’ll fix this.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“So, what if I romanced Delfina? And what if
I decided I still wanted Kate? What then?”

Kate pressed her ear against the door of
Enrico’s study. She could make out some of what Enrico and his
cousin were saying, but most of it puzzled her. They were speaking
in dialect—she supposed it was Calabrian—and most of the words were
unfamiliar. But she picked out a number of names, Carlo’s, Vince’s,
and Antonella’s among them, and she was sure she’d been
mentioned—she’d heard Enrico say her name and then she’d heard
“
questa Americana
” quite clearly, and Dom didn’t sound the
slightest bit happy when he’d said it either. But why were they
talking about Carlo’s granddaughter Delfina? There was a long
silence, then she heard Dom’s voice again.

“
If
your American would have
you—
if
she would have the family—I would agree. But only if
you try with Delfina first.”

A worm of unease crawled through Enrico’s
gut. “You’ve already spoken to Dario.”

“I have. And he agreed to consider it.”

“I’ve made no promises. Carlo will never
forgive me if he thinks I’ve broken a betrothal to his
granddaughter on top of everything else.”

“I’m perfectly aware of that.” The pit bull
was back, and now Enrico knew why.

“You already arranged it. It’s done, yes?” He
held his breath, hoping he was wrong.

“It’s all but done. Or at least it
was.
”

Anger frothed up in him, hot and thick.
Enrico jumped up and paced away from Dom. “How could you do that
without speaking to me?”

“We
had
spoken. You seemed amenable to
it. Unless, of course, you were lying to me.”

“You did this on purpose.”

The challenge in Dom’s gaze was clear.
“Someone had to make you see sense. Someone had to save this
family.”

“How am I going to get out of this?”

Dom smiled without mirth. “So you
were
lying to me.”

“It
is
a good idea. I just—I don’t
want
to do it. Unless I can’t have Kate.”

“Make her your mistress if you have to.”

“No.” His tone was final. “You have
overstepped your bounds.”

“My job is to watch over you and advise you,
and to take action if you do something unwise. That’s what I’m
doing. No one would disagree.”

Blood thundered in Enrico’s ears and a
pressure rose in his chest. “Do you really want to be
capo
?
Do you really want the weight of all this, the scrutiny, the target
on your back?” He paused, eyeing his cousin. “Do you think
you
can steer this family better than I have? Do you think
you have the long-term vision to strengthen us in the twenty-first
century?”

“It’s an enormous responsibility. I’m aware
of that.”

Enrico spoke slowly, enunciating every word
to keep a leash on his fury. “Do you think you can do it better
than me? Because if you do, I will
give
you the job.”

Dom looked up at him. “You’ve always known
what to do. You’ve led us well, I can’t deny that. And I do lack
your foresight. But I can’t let you put this family at unnecessary
risk.”

“What are you saying? Do you want it?” He
held his cousin’s eyes, the rushing of blood in his ears the only
sound he could hear.

“Not yet,” Dom finally said, his eyes not
leaving Enrico’s. The pit bull would not back down so easily.

Enrico’s stomach filled with acid. “I don’t
like your tone.”

“And I don’t like your recklessness. Are you
trying to get us all killed?”

“Since you are not willing to call for an
election, this conversation is over. You
will
respect my
authority.”

“And
you
will respect my position as
your second. You must marry Delfina Andretti. It’s the only way to
resolve this.” When Enrico started to speak, Dom held up a hand to
silence him. “It’s the only solution the
cosca
will accept.
You’ve taken an enormous risk. I can’t support you with any other
solution.” He paused. “Would you have us both lose our heads over
this?”

Dom was right, damn it all. But Enrico, not
Dom, was still the best choice as
capo
. The family needed
him, more than it ever had. The entire world was changing, and the
‘Ndrangheta had struggled to change with it. Enrico was one of the
few
capi
among his colleagues who had the education and
foresight to guide the clans in the right direction. Without him,
the ‘Ndrangheta would never return to the old codes. They would be
men of honor no more.

“No.” Enrico swallowed hard. His future with
Kate, his hopes for revenge against Carlo were slipping away. He
felt sick, his insides corroding, but he was damned if he’d let it
show. “I will marry Delfina Andretti, if there is no other
way.”

Had she heard correctly? The words were
different, but it sounded like Enrico was getting
married
to
Delfina. Kate’s brow wrinkled. Why would he marry the granddaughter
of the man who hated him? And why didn’t he act like a man in love?
If he still couldn’t take off his wedding ring, he was in no
condition to marry someone else. And he seemed to be… interested in
her. Had she entirely misread him? Did he really want to marry a
girl half his age?

Unless… this was his solution, how he was
going to solve his problem and hers. If he married into Carlo’s
family again, he’d have to give in to Carlo. And it would be to
Carlo’s advantage to go back to business as usual.

But the solution didn’t make her happy.
Enrico shouldn’t marry someone he didn’t love. Especially not to
save her. She heard Dom speak again, but his voice was low, and she
strained to hear it.

“There
is
no other way, Rico.” Dom’s
tone was gentle.

There had to be another way. There had
to
. “I’ll try talking to Carlo first. To see if there is a
solution I can arrange with my personal assets. Agreed?”

Dom didn’t immediately answer. He looked away
from Enrico for a few moments. When he finally spoke again, his
voice was hard. “Agreed. But do not endanger the family again over
her.”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

Enrico walked over to the liquor cabinet and
picked up the bottle of sambuca. “Shall we drink to it?”

Dom nodded and held up his glass. As their
tumblers met with a clink, he said, “You know I hate fighting with
you.”

Enrico grinned. “Especially since you never
win.”

“I beg to differ.” But Dom was smiling.

Enrico hoped things were all right with them.
And he hoped he could keep them that way.

“I hope she’s worth it,” Dom said.

The softness of his tone made Enrico look
closely at him. “She is.”

Kate pressed her ear harder to the door, but
she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Their voices had dropped,
and all she heard was murmuring. Was Enrico getting married or not?
It was tough to say. She wished her Italian were better, and she
wished she knew their dialect. So many of the words were strange to
her.

And there had been enough talk of “family”
and enough mentions of
capo
earlier to make her wonder. She
knew that Italian CEOs were also called
capo
. But so were
Mafia dons. Had Enrico lied to her? Just what the hell had she
gotten herself into?

She listened for more, but she heard only
murmurs, then laughter. Then the sound of footsteps headed for the
door. Her heart skittered in her chest. She sprinted down the hall,
trying to land on the balls of her feet instead of the heels,
hoping they couldn’t hear her mad dash for the dining room. Enrico
couldn’t know she’d been spying.

Damn him. Damn Enrico Lucchesi to
hell
.

Dom slammed his fist against the steering
wheel, then turned the key and listened to the Lamborghini’s engine
roar to life. He slammed the wheel again.
Why did Rico have to
be so damn stubborn
? Shaking his head, Dom settled back into
the leather seat. Putting the car in drive, he tromped on the gas,
spraying gravel behind him.

He drove the car through the hills, still
burning from their discussion. It had taken everything he had to
leave the house with a smile on his face.

So Rico thought he could get away with taking
Andretti’s wife, thought he could have his cake and eat it too, and
not get killed for it. Why was he at all surprised? Rico was being
his usual unrealistic self. And it would be up to Dom to get them
out of this mess, since Rico didn’t seem that interested in
handling it.

Just like he no longer took any interest in
the day-to-day operations. Dom had given Rico a break when
Antonella fell ill, but that break had never ended. It had been
over two years since Rico had given a damn about anything—other
than his love life. First, there was the grieving over Antonella.
Then the disaster with Fiammetta and her father.

Despite everything Franco Trucco knew, Rico
had refused to get rid of him. Instead he’d tried to paper over the
mess with money. If it had been up to Dom, Trucco would be buried
alongside his daughter. Fortunately, Trucco had worked for the
Lucchesis for too long to have lost his loyalty to the
cosca
. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still dangerous
to Rico.

But this—this madness with the American, this
threatened them all. Carlo would not stop until he’d crushed the
Lucchesi
cosca
to dust.

Carlo was no Franco Trucco. Dom had his own
future and that of his children to look out for. If Rico wouldn’t
fix things with Carlo, then Dom would. No matter what the cost.

He loved Rico, loved him like a brother. But
he hated him too, as only a brother could. Rico had been made
capo
when he obviously hadn’t wanted it, even though Dom had
been ready and more than able. But Rinaldo had of course favored
his own blood over his brother’s.

In some ways, being number two was better—he
had so much of the power and the rewards, without the scrutiny and
the enmity that came with being the don. And when Antonella had
proved barren and Rico had stubbornly refused to annul the
marriage? So much the better. Dom and his sons would inherit the
cosca
, they would run it, after Rico died.

But not if Rico fathered an heir. Not if
Carlo succeeded in destroying the Lucchesi
cosca
.

What would happen if Rico didn’t see reason?
What would happen if he raised a son—especially one with the same
ridiculous principles—who would take over some day? What would
happen to the
cosca
, to everything Dom had worked so
diligently to build, to secure? Rico and his principles, Rico and
his soft heart, would piss all that away, would get them all
killed.

Dom had done his job as
capo di
società
, and had done it well. No one could claim otherwise.
He’d given Rico good counsel, had warned him of the consequences of
his actions, had tried to make him see reason. He’d done what he
could for Rico—he’d even offered up his own daughter to solve this
madness. But it was time to cut Rico loose.

Tears threatened to unman him. Dom gulped
down air and widened his eyes, blinking rapidly, swallowing down
the rock in his throat. He loved Rico, he did. But he had no
choice.

It was up to Dom to stop him, up to Dom to
save the family and their future.

Up to Dom to make the tough choices, as
usual.

Kate had barely sat down again at the dining
room table and caught her breath, when she heard the front door
close and Enrico come into the room. He took his seat and glanced
at her plate. It remained almost untouched.

“Are you not hungry?”

“I am.” She took a hasty forkful of the
now-cold risotto. “I was just waiting for you.” She paused, then
asked, “Is everything all right with your cousin? I heard raised
voices.”

“From here?”

She flushed.
Stupid
! She shouldn’t
have mentioned it. There was no way she could ask questions about
what she’d heard.

“We must have been louder than I thought,” he
said. “It is nothing. Just a disagreement on a business matter.” He
studied her carefully. “Are you unwell? You look feverish.”

Kate cursed her red cheeks. “I’m okay,
really.” Though she really wasn’t. Could she trust this man? Had he
lied about everything?

He rose from his seat and walked over to her.
Placing one of his hands on his own forehead, he extended his other
hand toward hers to check her temperature. “May I?”

She nodded, feeling foolish. Really, would a
Mafia don give a crap if she had a fever? She felt his cool palm
press against her forehead. He frowned. “You seem a little
warm.”