We’d all secretly prayed that Serafina’s twins wouldn’t show any resemblance to their father. It was our only hope at this point, our only chance to give these kids a future in the Outfit.
Ines called me shortly after Serafina gave birth to a son and daughter, Nevio and Greta.
Her breathing was labored, her voice low and desperate. “They look like him.”
I held my breath. “His hair?” I’d seen photos of Remo Falcone, the dark hair and even darker eyes.
“The hair, the eyes, everything. Especially the boy. It’s as if Remo modeled him after himself to torture us.”
“Ines,” I said softly. “These kids don’t ever need to know who their father is.”
She made a choked sound. “They are his spitting image, Val. People will talk. It’s impossible not to know whose kids they are. Heaven have mercy, what are we supposed to do?”
“We can’t do anything but help Fina deal with the situation. How did she take it?” Some rape victims couldn’t bear it if their children resembled their abuser but so far Serafina had recovered surprisingly well. She’d insisted she wasn’t raped. Dante and the others didn’t believe her, blaming it on Stockholm Syndrome. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I had no right to pry unless Fina confided in me.
“She’s completely smitten with them. It’s as if she doesn’t even notice that they look like Falcones.”
“They are her children.”
“I know I shouldn’t say it, but I wish she would have never gotten them,” Ines whispered.
I wasn’t sure if Ines had exaggerated about the similarities but when I saw the twins for the first time two days later, it took effort not to show my shock.
Their hair was pitch black and their eyes impossible dark. They didn’t look like Cavallaros or Miones. They were Falcones, at least by blood, but they’d learn to be part of our family, of the Outfit.
Later that day, I found Fina in the nursery with her twins, bent over their shared crib, a soft smile on her face. She looked up briefly when I entered before she turned her attention back to her kids.
“I know what everyone’s thinking,” she said fiercely. “I’m not blind. You all want them gone.”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not true, Fina. It’s difficult for your family to accept who their father is, that’s all.”
Fina chuckled joylessly. “Why can’t they accept it when I can? Why can’t they see them for what they are? Innocent children.”
I stopped beside her. Nevio and Greta slept close together, their hands touching. They had each other and they’d need their bond to brave the judgment of our world. “It’ll take time.”
“I’ll protect them no matter what it takes.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “You are their mother, of course you will.”
A knock sounded and Dante poked his head in. “Dinner’s ready.” He came in, his gaze striking the children before he focused on Fina. He couldn’t bear looking at them. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“I’ll be down in a bit,” Fina said with a tense smile.
I followed Dante outside and linked our fingers, facing him. “What was that?”
His brows rose. “What?”
“You couldn’t even look at the babies.”
Dante’s mouth tightened. “If you’d come face to face with Remo Falcone, and then looked at Nevio… damn, Val. That boy’s going to look just like that bastard.”
“But he isn’t Remo. He’s Nevio Mione. He’s a part of our family, a part of the Outfit.”
“I’m not sure the boy can ever be part of the Outfit, at least not in a position of importance. My men would never accept him.”
My eyes widened. “Don’t tell Fina. Not yet. She’ll never forgive you if you punish Nevio for his father’s sins.”
“I’m not punishing him, but I have to keep the Outfit in mind. A child of Remo Falcone will cause too much discord. Not to mention that the Falcone blood carries madness.”
I pursed my lips. “I think you let your hate for Remo overrule your logic, Dante. Don’t lose yourself in useless fury.”
He smiled darkly. “Val, whenever I think of Remo, and that is every time I look at Serafina or her children, all I am is pure rage and thirst for revenge. I won’t rest until I get my vengeance.”
I swallowed hard because his eyes showed absolute determination. Nothing I could say would change it. “Don’t allow it to destroy everything we care about.”
“I won’t allow it to destroy anything.”
Months passed and we returned to a tentative routine in Chicago. Dante and his men were diligently working on revenge but Dante kept his promise.
The kids and I remained untouched of his pursuit of revenge, and even Dante seemed calmer and less haunted.
I thought we might be on a good way toward mutual ignorance with the Camorra.
Maybe I had been foolish.
Any dream of peace, of normalcy was shattered when Dante, Danilo, Pietro and Samuel got their hands on Adamo Falcone, Remo’s youngest brother.
Shortly after Dante got the news about the capture, he got ready to leave for the safehouse where they kept the boy. A boy, only fifteen.
Dante was withdrawn, lost in his thoughts as he put on his jacket over his gun and knife holster. A knife he’d use today?
“Dante,” I said quietly. “The boy is fifteen. Serafina said he never hurt her.”
“He is not innocent, Val,” Dante growled, his eyes flashing angrily. “He’s part of the Camorra. He is a Falcone. You don’t know the first thing about this family. If you did, you wouldn’t even consider asking me to spare Adamo Falcone.”
His anger hit me unexpectedly.
I nodded slowly. He was right, I didn’t know anything about the Falcones except for the rumors making the rounds and the few things Serafina had said since she’d been freed. What I knew was that Adamo would pay for a crime he hadn’t committed yet. Maybe he’d become as cruel as his brothers, but right now he wasn’t.
“Leonas will be inducted in three years, will that make him guilty for your crimes as well?”
Dante tensed. “That’s not the same.”
Wasn’t it? I didn’t know. In less than two weeks Leonas would turn nine, still a little boy in my eyes, but for our enemies he was a future Capo in the making, a potential enemy.
“Dante?” Pietro called, his voice ringing with open eagerness.
I shuddered.
“I need to leave now. We can continue this discussion tonight.”
He hesitated then he came toward me and kissed my lips before he stalked out. Slowly I walked after him but I stopped halfway down the staircase. Samuel gave his father a grin which he returned. Their hunger for revenge was tangible. Dante didn’t even bother hiding the dark hunger for blood.
I clutched the banister, feeling a little lost.
Before they left, Dante looked up once more but his eyes didn’t reflect conflict. Adamo Falcone wouldn’t be granted any mercy. He’d suffer in his brother’s stead.
I headed downstairs and into the living room where I found Ines, Sofia and Anna with the twins. Nevio was crawling over the floor while Greta clung to Ines. The little girl looked a bit lost without Fina.
“I don’t like that Fina’s going to be there when they torture that Falcone boy.”
Anna gave me a wide-eyed look. I’d hoped she wouldn’t find out about the torture but Ines was lost in her worry and didn’t even realize how much she revealed in front of our girls.
“Fina said the boy is not much older than Sofia and me, only fifteen,” Anna said.
“He’s a Camorrista,” Ines said. Nevio crawled toward me, and I picked him up. His dark eyes flashed up to me, and I tried to imagine how Dante and the other men could see only bad when they looked at this boy.
I sighed. “I don’t know Adamo Falcone.”
“Does he deserve to be tortured?” Sofia asked curiously.
Ines shrugged. “Fina didn’t deserve to suffer either.”
Anna looked at me for answers. I wasn’t sure what to say. Sofia and she were twelve, and they suffered the consequences of Remo’s actions as well. Both were homeschooled, shielded from the outside world, their golden cages more restraining than mine had ever been as a young girl.
Steps rang out and Santino appeared, dragging a struggling Leonas after himself.
“What’s going on?”
“I heard noises from the weaponry, found him stuffing his pockets with guns as if he was gearing up for war,” Santino said with a curl of his lip, releasing Leonas who sent him a glower.
Santino had taken over as Anna’s bodyguard this summer. Dante had been wary of having a former Enforcer close to our daughter but eventually he’d considered him the best option to guarantee Anna’s safety when he wasn’t around.
“Leonas, what is that all about?”
Leonas shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pants. I narrowed my eyes at him. “I just wanted to help Dad deal with the Falcone bastard.”
“Language,” I said sharply. “And how did you want to do that?”
Again that stubborn shrug. “Take a cab to the safehouse and help them torture him.”
I stared down at my little son, my almost nine-year-old, trying to understand what had happened. This war had taken his innocence too quickly, being surrounded by men thirsting for vengeance and blood. “You won’t ever touch a gun without permission again. Understood?”
Leonas’ eyes widened marginally at my tone. I’d never raised my voice like that against him before. He nodded eventually.
“Thank you, Santino,” I said. He nodded then turned on his heel and left. He’d return to his guard post until we left the house.
Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot. Do you really think Daddy would have allowed you to stay?”
“He knows I can handle stuff unlike you.”
Anna crossed her arms over her chest. It was a constant argument between the two that Leonas went to school while Anna had to stay home. Sofia nudged her and whispered something in her ear. They got up and hurried away.
I sighed, glancing down at Nevio who squirmed in my hold. Ines sank down on the sofa with a sleeping Greta, looking tired.
“When will we return to Chicago?” Leonas asked.
“Soon,” I said. I put Nevio down on the floor and bent down to be at eye level with Leonas. “Please don’t talk like that in front of your sister and Sofia again. I don’t want any of you to think about what Dad does in his job.”
Leonas tilted his head curiously. “Mom, I’ll be Capo,” he said with absolute certainty and as if that settled the matter.
I smiled wistfully. “I know but until you are initiated you are only my little boy.”
He scrunched up his face as I pulled him against me and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Mom,” he protested. When I didn’t release him, overcome with emotions, he eventually softened and hugged me. For some reason it felt as if he was consoling me.
Dante
Valentina was already in bed when I returned home that night. My body still hummed with adrenaline from the torture and sweet satisfaction that Remo would hand himself over tomorrow.
I’d dreamed about this day since the moment Remo had kidnapped Serafina. Vengeance was close now.
After checking on Anna and Leonas, I slipped into bed with Val. She turned around and moved closer. Despite our argument today, I felt the same need to hold her against my body. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“And?”
“Remo agreed to exchange himself for his brother.” Even I could hear the grim triumph in my voice.
“He must know you’ll torture and kill him brutally but still he hands himself over for his brother?” I could hear the confusion in Val’s sleep-heavy voice. “I thought he didn’t care for anyone.”
“He does for his brothers,” I said neutrally. Val had a tendency to try to see things from two sides, to see beyond someone’s faults, but with Remo, this was pointless.
“You’ll enjoy it, won’t you?”
I wasn’t like some of my men who hungered for the thrill of torturing others, but with Remo I’d enjoy every second of his agony. I brushed my nose along Val’s throat. I didn’t reply, because Val wanted to hear something else. My calm, controlled exterior often let her forget my less than civil nature, the depravity I kept hidden from her and our children and would always do. “Remo won’t receive mercy from either of us.”
Pietro, Samuel, and Danilo were just as eager for bloodshed as me. We’d bring Remo to his knees together, would relish in his demise, and once he was dismembered and purged from this world, we’d figure out a way to leave the burden of his actions behind, to move on.
I drove the car to the meeting point, Danilo beside me. Pietro and Samuel sat on either side of Adamo who hunched forward, breathing heavily.
When I parked the car, he looked up and his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. Those damn dark Falcone eyes. Only fifteen but he looked like he couldn’t care less if I put a bullet in his head or not.
“Time to exchange you for your fucking brother,” Samuel said, voice tight with eagerness.
“You don’t know anything about Remo if you think he’ll give you what you want,” Adamo muttered.
“And what do we want, Falcone?” Danilo growled.
“Break him. But my brother is unbreakable. You should have kept torturing me. That would have been more fun.”
I pushed open the door. “I don’t have time for this nonsense, boy. Your brother is going to break. They all do.”
Remo, Nino, and a third man, probably another Falcone brother, waited beside a car. Samuel hoisted Adamo out of the backseat and dragged him toward Danilo, Pietro, and me.
Remo’s expression hardened. No sign of his previous triumph or taunting. I gave Samuel a sign and he shoved Adamo toward his brothers. Adamo fell to his knees, holding his broken arm against his body. The way he looked up at Remo revealed a bond that didn’t make sense to me, not from what I knew of the Falcones. Remo touched his brother’s head in a way I sometimes touched Leonas then they linked arms.
Samuel stepped forward and punched Remo’s face, then kicked him in the groin before he smashed his gun against his temple. Remo passed out with that fucking twisted smile on his face. I motioned at a few soldiers. They rushed forward and grabbed Remo then carried him over to a car where they shoved him into a trunk.
The Falcones were already in their car but Nino looked at me with pure calculation.
I got back into the car and we headed back to the safehouse where we’d dismember Remo over the next two days.
Samuel let out a disbelieving laugh and clapped Pietro’s shoulder who gave a tense smile. Danilo leaned back with a deep sigh.
“We got him,” Samuel said. “We really got him. Fuck. I can’t believe we can tear the fucker apart.”
“I get the honor of cutting his dick off,” Danilo said.
“We agreed on that, yes.” Danilo still hadn’t gotten over Serafina, or that Remo had dishonored her. His reign over Indianapolis had become more rigorous and brutal than that of his father had ever been, but he was effective and loyal, so I let him do what he felt necessary, even if it was fueled by his unrestrained fury. Maybe after Remo’s death, he’d be able to move on. Maybe we all could.
Serafina waited for us in the safehouse. Pietro gave me an uncertain look. He didn’t like the idea of her watching the torture, but like Serafina had said: she deserved to be present.
We dragged Remo into the vast hall. I hadn’t said a word to Remo yet, hadn’t even looked directly at him yet. I knew I’d have trouble restraining myself if I did, and I wanted to be behind soundproof walls before that happened.
Serafina paled as she saw Remo.
“Angel,” Remo murmured.
My head turned to him, my brows pulling tight. Angel?
Samuel didn’t give Remo the chance for more words by punching him.
“This is your chance to ask for forgiveness,” Pietro said.
Remo glanced at him until his gaze finally met mine. No sign of fear yet. That would change soon. Every man had a breaking point. He looked at Serafina again. “Do you want me to beg for forgiveness?”
“I won’t give you my forgiveness,” Serafina said. I motioned at Samuel and Danilo to take Remo away to the torture room. Once they were gone, I approached Serafina.
A hint of conflict shone in her eyes. “He will ask for forgiveness in the end,” I said.
Serafina gave me a strange, forlorn smile. “I don’t want him to because it would be false.” She paused. “You will castrate him?”
I preferred not to involve women in the gruesome details of our torture practices, not even Val. I respected her but she tended to be struck by pity even for someone like Remo. Still, Serafina deserved a reply and I couldn’t imagine her being overcome with sympathy for her tormentor.
“Tomorrow. Not today. It would speed up his death too much. Danilo and Samuel will do it. I’m not sure you should watch any of this, but maybe you need to. Today will be easier to stomach than tomorrow, so stay if it’s what you want.”
“Thanks,” she said before she headed over to the screens where she’d be able to watch us handling Remo.
I gave a curt nod toward the guard sitting beside her before I made my way toward the torture room. My pulse sped up, a strange occurrence. Usually it took a bit for torture to get a spike in my heart rate. Not today. This felt almost like the first few times Father had made me be part of torture sessions.
When I entered the room, Remo lay on the bare stone floor while Danilo and Samuel kicked him over and over again.
He didn’t fight the blows only stared up at the camera up in the corner as if he knew Serafina was watching. Pietro unsheathed his knife and cut Remo’s chest. Then Samuel did the same followed by Danilo.
When it was my turn, I squatted beside Remo. He smiled, revealing his blood-coated teeth. “This gives you all a fucking erection, doesn’t it?”
I gave him a cold smile as I withdrew my knife from my holster. “Let’s see how long you will hold on to your arrogance.”
“You really want to talk about arrogance with me, Dante?”
I dug the tip of my knife into his armpit, knowing it was one of the most sensitive spots. Remo tensed but didn’t make a sound, his gaze not wavering from mine. He was familiar with pain. His father probably conditioned him like mine had. He’d be a challenge. “Everyone begs in the end.”
Remo’s mouth pulled wider. “Would you?”
I’d die before I’d beg anyone for mercy. “Don’t compare me to you. We’re nothing alike.”
Remo laughed. “Oh, but we are. That gleam in your eyes, I get it every time I take a knife to someone’s skin. It’s the fucking best. Do you really think you’re something better only because you hide your monstrosity behind a fucking three-piece-suit?”
“Remo, you’ll meet my monster, don’t worry. Unlike you, I don’t rape women to get a power rush.” I pushed my knife deeper into his pit then motioned for Danilo to come forward with the lighter.
A few hours later, I cleaned my hands.
Samuel shook his head, muttering. “When’s the fucker going to beg? Fuck it.”
I glanced at Remo who lay unconscious on the blood-covered floor. He’d passed out again, but hadn’t made a sound except for the occasional intake of breath or gritting of his teeth.
Samuel stepped out into the corridor and I followed, then locked the cell.
Pietro and Danilo waited in the corridor, both of them sweaty and disheveled, just like Samuel and me. My shirt clung to my skin and blood stuck under my nails.
“He’s a tough bastard,” Pietro said and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket then lit it.
“Maybe pain doesn’t bother him, but he’ll show a reaction when I force him to watch while I cut his dick off inch by fucking inch,” Danilo growled.
It was already late. “I’ll sleep here. I won’t leave until Remo’s dead.”
Pietro, Danilo, and Samuel nodded. “One of us should keep watch at any time,” Pietro suggested.
“I’ll start,” Samuel said quickly. “I’m too riled up to sleep anyway.”
“All right.”
We headed into the sleeping quarters and lay down on the cots. I closed my eyes. Despite the satisfaction I’d felt torturing Remo, I couldn’t wait for him to be dead, for this to be finally over.
A shout woke me. I jerked up on the cot, disoriented for a second. Pietro met my gaze from across the room. Danilo wasn’t there.
I jumped to my feet and ran toward the torture room. Fuck, had Remo freed himself? He was badly injured. I couldn’t imagine him having the strength to even stand.
When Pietro and I stormed into the room, Danilo stood in its center.
What I saw made me freeze. Serafina was inside the cell, shielding Remo with her body, her clothes soaked with his blood.
“You shouldn’t be here, dove. This isn’t something for a woman,” Pietro tried to reason with Serafina. He couldn’t see what Danilo and I did. That Serafina had chosen a side and it wasn’t ours.
“Where’s Samuel?” I asked. I hadn’t seen him anywhere. I couldn’t imagine Serafina hurting her twin but maybe I’d underestimated Remo’s manipulation skills and the power he held over her.
Serafina reached under her cardigan and pulled two guns, pointing them straight at us.
I rested my hand lightly on my own gun but I couldn’t bring myself to pull it on my niece. Remo was struggling to stand and didn’t have a weapon.
“Samuel’s going to be okay. He’s knocked out behind the sofa,” Serafina said.
Pietro’s face contorted with horrified realization. “Fina, you’ve been through a lot. Put down the gun.”
Serafina released the safety catch. “I’m sorry.” I’d been faced with many difficult choices in my time as Capo. Today marked the worst. I pulled my gun at the same time as Danilo did. Serafina pulled the trigger and Danilo winced, his hand flying up to grip a bleeding spot on his arm.
“Not a single move.”
Remo moved closer to Serafina, and his eyes met mine. He seemed almost stunned, as if he too was caught off guard by the events. “We only want to leave. No one has to get hurt,” Serafina whispered.
“Dove,” Pietro croaked. “You don’t owe this man anything. He raped you. I know emotions can get confused in a situation like this, but we have people who can help you.”
Serafina’s eyes filled with tears but she shook her head.
Samuel stumbled inside, looking dazed.
Serafina’s face twisted painfully before she looked at me. “Please let us leave, Uncle. This war is because of me, and I can tell you I don’t want it. I don’t want to be avenged. Don’t rob my children of their father. I’ll go to Las Vegas with Remo where I belong, where my kids belong. Please, if you feel guilty for what happened to me, if you want to save me, then do this. Let me return to Vegas with Remo. This doesn’t have to be an endless spiral of bloodshed. It can end today. For your children, for mine. Let us leave.”
Her eyes begged me but I looked away and at Remo. My hatred burnt brighter than ever, realizing he’d taken more than we’d ever anticipated. “Is she speaking in the name of the Camorra?”
“She does. You breached my territory, and I breached yours. We’re even.”
“We’re not!” Samuel roared, stepping forward, swaying. Remo lifted his gun a couple of inches and my fingers on mine tightened. One bullet was all it took…for what exactly? Turn Remo into a martyr his brothers and the Camorra would go into war for? Because killing him wouldn’t bring us Serafina back.
“You kidnapped my sister and broke her. You twisted her into your fucking marionette. We won’t be done until I’m standing over your disemboweled corpse so my sister is finally free of you.”
Serafina looked close to tears. “Sam, don’t do this. I know you don’t understand, but I need to return to Vegas with Remo, for myself, but more importantly for my children.”
“I knew you should have gotten rid of them,” Samuel said. Maybe the twins had changed Serafina’s feelings for Remo, intensified whatever twisted bond they shared. Children changed everything, I knew that.
“Send them with him to Las Vegas. They are Falcones, but you aren’t Fina. Be free of them and him. You can start a new life,” Pietro said.
Serafina shook her head. “Where my children go, I will go. Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough for all of your sins? Don’t turn me into another pawn in your chess game. Set me free.” She turned to me once more. “Let us leave. You failed me once, and now I’m lost to you. But please allow me to bring my children to a family that will love them. Allow me to bring my children home. You owe it to me.”
I’d owed her protection on the day of her wedding and a quicker rescue, but this, I didn’t owe her, and yet I felt like I did. “If I allow you to leave today, you are a traitor. You won’t be part of the Outfit. You will be the enemy. You won’t see your family again. There won’t be peace with the Camorra. This war has only begun.”
“When will this war ever end, Uncle?”
I met Remo’s gaze. He regretted nothing. This war between the Camorra and the Outfit would never end, definitely not in my lifetime.
I had often imagined how I’d set Serafina free by killing the man who tormented her. It had been my driving force.
Everything faded to the background, Samuel’s stunned expression, Pietro’s anguish, Danilo’s fury as I stared into my niece’s eyes.
This was about revenge. Revenge for her. Revenge she didn’t want.
I had to set her free, not because of her, because of Val and my children, because of Ines and Sofia. We needed to let go of her because Serafina was already lost. Maybe we’d lost her the moment Remo captured her. Maybe all the months of hoping had been wasted. Serafina had made her choice and today I had to make mine.
I wouldn’t drag the Outfit into a bloody war with the Camorra for her, not when she chose a life with Remo. Nino and his brothers would retaliate if I killed Remo. I would have done it gladly if it would have served its purpose, but it couldn’t. Serafina would never return to us, and her children had always been Falcones anyway.
I would protect the people who wanted my protection, who needed it more than Serafina.
“Leave,” I said coldly.
Danilo jerked, shock flashing across his unshaven face. “You can’t be serious, Dante. You can’t let them go.”
I understood Danilo’s anger, his need for vengeance, but neither he nor I could get what we wanted, not today, maybe never.
“Set me free,” Serafina said again.
“Leave.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Not for that.” I’d allowed a girl to be given to a monster many years ago, a monster she hadn’t chosen. Aria had survived. Serafina had chosen her own monster, her fate. She was no longer my responsibility. Many in the Outfit would be outraged by my decision but it was my last gift toward my niece.
Serafina and Remo left.
Anna, Leonas, and Val would be safer now.
A sense of finality, of utter shock hung in the room.
