Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance (20 page)

“Why would you think that?” my father asked.

“Because I talked with him. He was at Isabella DeMarco’s house.”

My father’s lips tightened. “What the fuck was he doing there?”

It wasn’t my place to tell him about Effie. I’d let Dominic do that when he was ready. Strange. I realized just then how difficult these last five years must have been for my brother. He’d abandoned his child and a woman he’d at one point cared about all out of fear of my father’s disapproval, his wrath. He’d wanted his acceptance, his approval, as much as I had. Maybe he still did. He was as much a puppet to my domineering father as I was.

Roman cleared his throat.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know more than you’re letting on?” my father asked.

“Let me make a call. I think I may know where he is,” Roman said, standing.

“It’s important he’s here,” I said. “Critical, actually.”

He nodded and made the call. My father and I waited in awkward silence until Roman returned. Rainey knocked and entered with a tray holding a bottle of whiskey and several glasses. I poured for everyone and sent her to bed. She’d need to be up early to greet the remainder of our guests. It was only a few hours before they got here.

“I know who was behind things.”

My father drank his glass of whiskey then pulled the bottle over to pour a second.

“Isabella DeMarco and Dominic have been working together with Pagani’s son, Paul Jr. Luke was just the front man, acting on her behalf.”

“I knew that fucking bitch would be trouble. Only good DeMarco is a dead DeMarco,” my father said.

“That’s enough,” I said more calmly than I expected I could. “I called this meeting to put an end to this stupidity. This feud that’s torn your own family apart. When will it be enough for you?”

“When I’m dead.”

“Don’t push me.”

“Gentlemen, we’re on the same side,” Roman said, standing between us with a hand on both our shoulders. “I’m having someone pick Dominic up and bring him here.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

“He has a bar he likes to go to.”

Roman didn’t expound on that, and I left it alone.

“He’s got some explaining to do, that fucking bastard,” Franco said. “Cancel the meeting. I’ll deal with my son myself. You deal with the DeMarco cunt, and Pagani will deal with his son.” He rose to his feet. “I’m fucking tired. You called me here for this bullshit?”

“Sit down,” I spoke quietly, not rising but remaining where I sat, feeling more in control than I ever had in my life. I knew what I wanted, what I needed to do. It would all truly end tonight.

“Be careful, son,” he said, but he lowered himself back down into his chair.

“We’re dealing with this publicly. We’re forgiving what’s happened thus far and calling a truce.”

“You’re not boss yet, Salvatore. I decide, not you.”

“I already decided, old man. Let it be.”

“Franco,” Roman started.

My father kept his eyes on me, but listened.

“Let’s do this Salvatore’s way and end this. It’s grown too far out of proportion,” Roman said.

“And how do you propose to get Dominic to agree?” Franco asked.

That was where we were all at a loss. He couldn’t be given a property to manage, not as volatile as he was. He’d bring war wherever he went. He needed to be controlled, but I didn’t know how. I was truly at a loss when it came to Dominic.

“I will talk to him,” I said. I’d give him one more chance, talk to him like maybe I should have been talking to him all along. Maybe he’d have come to me five years ago when he was in trouble if I’d been a better brother to him.

By the time Dominic arrived, it was almost five o’clock in the morning. He stank of liquor and stumbled in making a lot of noise, propped up by two men who worked for my father.

“You called, brother?”

The lids of his eyes were drooping, and the bruises I’d given him earlier had colored a dark purple.

“Summoning me to your grand estate?” he said, slurring his words as he gestured around the house.

“Get him in the fucking shower.”

“I’ll make coffee,” Roman said.

Marco had also arrived in the meantime, and men were being arranged throughout the property. We had about two hours before everyone would get here. According to Roman, Pagani Sr., wasn’t surprised by the call, which meant he’d already talked to his son. Good. The less surprises, the better.

Isabella was a different story. Roman had spoken with her and told her the reason for the meeting. Maybe it was vanity, a feeling of being acknowledged as head of the DeMarco family, because for all intents and purposes, she was. We just underestimated the DeMarco family’s level of activity. It was stupid on our part. Isabella would be here bright and early, as anxious as me to put this behind her, now that she realized what she could have lost.

I had Dominic taken to a bedroom downstairs, knowing he’d raise hell wherever he was just because he was Dominic and he was piss drunk. Roman remained with my father while I went to check on Dominic’s progress.

“You’re not boss yet,” was the greeting he threw at me when I walked into the bedroom.

“You at least smell a little better,” I said, tossing one of my dress shirts at him. “Put this on.” I’d changed too, wearing a suit minus the jacket.

“You want me looking respectable for those assholes?” he asked, but he took it.

“I know about Effie,” I said, sitting down.

He met my eyes but remained silent.

“You haven’t told anyone all these years?”

“What, that I knocked up a DeMarco? All while father hands you one on a silver fucking platter.” He shook his head in disgust. “You’re the golden boy, aren’t you? First it was Sergio, then you. Fuck Dominic.”

I wanted to punch him but had to remind myself why he was being defensive. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it easier for you to talk to me.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me now.” He said, then returned his attention to buttoning his shirt before continuing. “Does father know?”

“No. Only Roman and I. That’s how it’ll stay unless you decide to tell him.”

He nodded, and I knew it was as close to an actual thank-you that I would get.

“Tell me about Luke DeMarco’s shooting.”

Nothing.

“Isabella and you were working together with Pagani, Jr.”

He snorted. “He is a colossal fuckup. Fucking dimwit.”

“That we can agree on. They’ll be here soon, Dominic. We’re all going to be in a room together. I would rather know the truth now, from you.”

A knock came on the door.

“Sir.”

It was Marco. “Come in.”

He opened the door and glanced at Dominic but spoke to me. “Isabella DeMarco is here.”

I checked my watch. “She’s early.” It was barely six a.m. “Does Lucia know?”

Marco gave me a short nod.

“Of course she does. Where are they?”

“Your study.”

“All right. I’ll be right there. Make sure they stay in there until I get there.”

“I will.”

He closed the door. I turned back to Dominic, who’d finished dressing and was now combing his hair, studying me.

“Last chance to tell me everything.”

“Go get everyone under control, brother. I’ll see you when it’s time for the meeting.”

“Suit yourself.” I walked out of the room and directly to my study.

Lucia and Isabella sat on the couch talking in whispers when I walked in. Lucia at least had the grace to give me a meek smile.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said to her.

“She’s my sister, Salvatore.”

“Why do I feel like I’m hitting a wall at every turn?” I asked.

“For once, I’m taking his side, Lucia. This is my business, and I don’t want you involved,” Isabella said, standing.

“I’m not letting you face those men alone.”

“She’s not alone. I will be there with her,” I said.

“Luce, I did this. I brought this on us. I had Dominic kidnap Jacob. I ultimately was responsible for Luke being shot.” She turned to me. “I’m so sorry about Jacob. I just, I wanted to scare Franco. I didn’t even think about Natalie. It was all about sending a message to Franco. Everything. And every time I look at Effie’s face and hold her in my arms, I keep thinking about Natalie. How she must have felt. How scared Jacob must have felt. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Lucia squeezed her hand.

I nodded. “Is it over?”

“Yes. For me. But I’m not sure how much control I have or ever had. The burglaries—we’d talked about it but hadn’t decided on anything. And Luke… I hope Dominic didn’t order that.”

“I don’t know myself, but we’ll soon find out.”

Before I could say more, loud voices—two men yelling—interrupted us. Dominic and my father.

“Stay here,” I said, rushing to the door and out. They were in the dining room, Roman, my father, and Dominic.

“You betray your own family!” Franco yelled, his face hot with fury.

“What was in it for me? What was ever in it for me? Why in hell did you even have me?” Dominic countered, all drunkenness having left his system, the heat of his anger perhaps having burnt it out. “After Sergio died, it all went to Salvatore. What about me?”

“You’re the youngest. I can’t fucking help that.”

“The backup to the backup.”

“You’re stupid if that’s what you think!”

“So worried about your grandson. Everything is about Sergio. His boy. Taking care of Jacob.”

“Like I would take care of yours!”

“Really?”

“Everyone calm the fuck down.” I walked into the room, but neither my father nor Dominic noticed my arrival.

Isabella walked in behind me, her gaze locked on Dominic. When my father stalked up to her, she stood taller, and I stood beside her.

“You stupid little bitch,” he started.

“Stop! All of you! What is this, fucking preschool? We’re all going to sit down, and we’re all going to talk.”

“Salvatore.”

Roman said my name and walked into the room. I just then realized he’d been absent.

“I just got off the phone with Paul Pagani, Sr. Neither he nor his son will be here after all. He’s already addressed his son’s responsibility and taken care of it. Jr. won’t be a problem, he assures us. The moneys that were taken have been returned, and he’s given his word his allegiance is to the head of the Benedetti family.”

I nodded. “Then this will truly be a family meeting.”

“Apart from this whore,” Franco muttered.

The tension in the room was palpable. No one moved to sit, and it looked like either Dominic or my father would explode at any minute.

I sighed, shaking my head, but before I could speak, Dominic drew a pistol and held it at his side.

“She’s the mother of your other grandchild, old man, but you’re too fucking stupid to see it, aren’t you?”

“Dominic, give me the gun,” I said, shadowing him as he moved around the table to where my father stood, but it was like he couldn’t hear me. Couldn’t see me. Couldn’t see anyone but our father.

“I was too much of a coward to tell you she was pregnant with my baby.
Mine
, you stupid fuck.”

“Dominic,” I started, cautious.

Franco watched him, glancing at Isabella for a moment as he finally understood. But Dominic wasn’t finished.

“You never cared about me. All your love went to Sergio.”

“That’s not true,” our father said. “He was just firstborn.”

“Fuck firstborn! This isn’t the fucking Dark Ages. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“You betrayed your family. I accepted you as my own, and you betrayed me.”

All heads snapped to my father then.

Roman approached Franco and whispered something into his ear. I turned to Dominic to see his face as he slowly understood what was being said.

“No, I’ll tell this bastard who he is.” My father shoved Roman away. “Son of a fucking foot soldier who thinks he should be head of
my
family.”

“You’re lying,” Dominic said, raising the pistol.

“Dominic, give me the gun,” I said, mirroring every move he made.

I heard a gasp at the door, and Isabella moved, shielding Lucia, who’d just walked in.

“Dominic, please, give me the gun.”

“You all thought your mother was a saint. Died a martyr.” Franco snorted. “You didn’t know her very well. None of you did.”

“You’re a fucking liar, old man,” Dominic spewed.

“She whored herself out.”

“He’s not worth it,” I said to my brother. “He’s lying, and he’s not worth it.” But it was like he couldn’t hear me at all.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” Dominic wiped his face with the back of the hand that held the pistol.

“Like your bitch,” Franco said, gesturing to Isabella.

That was it, it was finished. Dominic aimed, my father’s face changed to one of surprise, of shock. I don’t know if any of us thought he’d do it. Thought he’d actually pull the trigger.

I grabbed Dominic’s arm, but he cocked the gun. My father’s mouth opened, another taunt leaving it, pushing Dominic to the breaking point.

Gunshots never sound the way you think they should. They’re louder, deadlier, and a hell of a lot faster than in the movies.

Lucia’s scream was all I heard. Everything else was background noise. She drowned it all out with her scream.

I lunged between them, intending to push my father out of the way, to save him. To save Dominic from doing something he’d regret for the rest of his life.

But it never worked that way in real life either. Never like the movies. The heroes didn’t walk away, arms raised, triumphant.

More often, they got hurt.

They got killed.

I did knock my father out of the way. Landing on him was softer than the damned marble floors I always hated. A second later, and I’d have been too late.

Or maybe I already was.

Lucia screamed again, dropping to her knees, her hands bloodied, her face splattered with it. Her crutches clanked to the floor near my head as she grabbed my face, looking over her shoulder, shoving someone away. Her tears kept dropping on my face, and she kept wiping them away again and again, talking, I think. Her mouth moved, but no sound came. No sound. Only pain. Only fire in my side.

When I put my hand to the place, it felt warm and wet, and when I reached to touch her pretty, pretty face, I covered it in red, smearing it down over her jaw, her neck, down until she faded from view. The last thing I felt was her hair tickling my face, her body pressing against mine, the movements desperate.