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Scorned Heir: Chapter 35

Matteo

I was so blinded with rage, I couldn’t see straight. We couldn’t haul Tony and the Chicago soldiers to the basement because they weren’t a part of the organization, so we cleared The Grindhouse boxing gym and interrogated them there.

My right fist was submerged in a bowl of ice. Numbed to its pain because nothing compared to the anguish and anger tearing my chest wide open.

Sera was gone.

And no one would tell me where Luca had taken her.

Trevor returned and informed us the Escalade was found parked in an alley. They’d switched vehicles.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on?” I snarled at Tony.

“It’s not time for you to know, kid.”

“Kid,” I sneered. “This kid could end you right now.” I picked up the gun beside the bowl of ice with my left hand. My eyes scanned the room to find Daniel and Dom. “What I want to know was how Luca got past the security of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Luca asked me for permission to see Sera,” Dom said. “It was a boss-to-boss request.”

“Enough of this boss-to-boss bullshit,” I snapped.

Dom’s eyes narrowed. “I’m still the head of this family, cuz.”

My jaw clenched. My cousin knew I couldn’t say I was the head of the Archers in front of Tony and his crew. Dad shot me a warning look.

Mom, who was trying not to hover over me, put a hand on my elbow and told Dom, “I agree it’s goodwill but we know Luca is unpredictable. How about courtesy extended to your own family?”

“Aunt Ava, with all due respect,” Dom said. “Where was the courtesy when Matteo didn’t tell us that he and Sera filed for a divorce?”

Gasps and murmurs echoed around the room.

Tony glared at Dom. “You didn’t mention that to Luca.”

“And I didn’t mention it for a reason,” my cousin shot back.

I didn’t even ask him how he knew. I had the family lawyer expedite the divorce on the condition of secrecy. The only person he couldn’t keep it from was the boss.

Mom looked at Dad. “Did you know?”

“I was there when Renz suggested it to Matteo.”

“Why in the world would Renz suggest that?” Mom spun back to face me.

Cara,” Dad said in a censuring tone. She was starting to interfere in family business. She’d always been good with keeping things separate, but with me being her eldest, with my marriage in turmoil, not to mention I’d fucked up my hand, holding back was asking too much. Though I sure as fuck hoped I hadn’t broken any fingers, I was far from caring right now.

“We have their phones.” Trevor stepped forward and put the devices on the table.

“Luca is going to call when he needs us,” Tony said. “We need to trust the boss.”


Sera

Santino Conte, my jilted almost-fiancé, stood across the table from me and Luca, hands flat on the table, leaning in. Frankie Rossi sat beside him, smoking a cigar. The other Rossi brother, Alessandro, stood behind Santino, looking bored. He was the driver of the second SUV when we switched our vehicles.

After Luca told me what was going on, I had no choice but to go along, but I couldn’t get the image of Matteo’s face out of my mind. It was a face of a man who was on the brink of losing everything. At that moment, I swore if I got out of this mess alive, I would do everything to fix my marriage. It was holding on to that thought that was keeping me centered in the presence of two psychos, my uncle being the other one.

“I did as you requested,” Luca said. “My niece.”

“I’m not sure I want anyone’s leftovers and she’s still married.”

Santino was not familiar with my uncle’s tells, but I was. Luca’s fingers curled over the surface of the marble top and he started rapping it slowly. He was aching to reach for his weapon but he had none because Alessandro sussed him out before we entered the Rossi mansion.

Chicago was related to the Rossis through Nonno’s third wife, but relationships had been strained since Frankie took over. So scratch that, there were three psychopaths in the room. A migraine started to form at the center of my forehead and radiated to my eyes, making them twitch.

“Actually, Matteo and I have filed for divorce,” I said.

That took Santino and Frankie by surprise. Luca was surprised too when I told him back at the safe house where he had taken me to explain his scheme. He’d been in a rip-roaring rage. I had to extract a promise from him not to harm Matteo in exchange to help him. My uncle quickly turned this information to his advantage, and after a few quick calls, secured the scanned divorce papers on his phone.

Luca unlocked his phone and slid it to Santino. “This can be expedited and the judge can sign it in less than a week. You want an alliance between Chicago and the Galluzo, it’s within your reach. But I love my niece. She’s the treasured daughter of my oldest brother. All I ask is you treat her well.”

“She insulted me by marrying that mongrel.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, following Luca’s lead. “I made a mistake. Matteo hides behind expensive suits, but underneath it all he’s a wolf who has no respect for the old ways.”

“Perhaps I can sweeten the deal?” Luca suggested. “I have control of Sera’s trust fund until she’s thirty, but in the event she gets married before then, I have the option to use it as part of a dowry in an arranged marriage. It’s ten million.”

Oh, Luca. It was five hundred thousand, and it was my education fund. My uncle was lying through the skin of his teeth. And he was good at it. If someone put a lie detector on him right now, he’d pass it.

“This wasn’t on the table before.”

“I want my niece’s marriage prospects to see her worth.” He sighed. “But now she’s tarnished by her marriage to De Lucci. A divorcée…you know how that goes.”

Ouch.

Santino returned my uncle’s phone and started pacing the length of the table. He was rubbing his finger and thumb across his jaw. Finally, he stopped and pinned me with his gaze. “Stand up and come here.”

“Now wait a minute,” Luca barked.

The other man raised a brow. “She’s tainted goods. I want to see just how tainted.”

“It’s okay…” I said. My knees were knocking together and on some weird level I heard Ivy telling me to scoop my stomach that one time she duped me into going to Pilates with her. I held on to that memory, pulled my navel to my spine, and I managed to walk over to where Santino was leering at me.

I was praying Luca would hold on to his temper until we got what we wanted, otherwise we risked everything for nothing.

Santino hauled me into him. He lowered his head and nuzzled my neck and then he inhaled me. His hand lowered to my ass and squeezed.

I cried out in outrage, stepped back, and slapped him across the face. And then I gasped, realizing what I’d done.

Luca came out of his seat.

So did Frankie.

Santino whipped out his gun and pointed it at my uncle. “Sit. Down.”

My uncle’s jaw worked furiously. This was costing him. Well, too late for second thoughts now.

He dropped back into the chair.

“Let’s not do anything rash here,” Frankie warned before sitting down.

Instead of getting pissed off, Santino touched his cheek and laughed with glee. “Feisty.” He lowered his gun. “I see why De Lucci wanted you, but why did he divorce you?”

“Correction. I was the one who asked for a divorce. He lied to me and used me to get Gustavo’s shares.” I was surprised how steady my voice was despite the way my heart wanted to beat out of my rib cage. “Touch me again and I walk out of here.” I played a card I wasn’t ready to play, but I’d rather shoot myself than have this gorilla paw me again. “Where is Zio Gus? What have you done with him?”

“That’s the agreement, is it not?” It was Frankie who asked Santino. “Give them the location of Gustavo and let’s get this over with. I don’t want to get in deeper shit with the De Luccis even if it pleases me to stick it to them like this.”

“Fine.” Santino dug out his phone and thumbed a number and said, “Let the old man go.”

A few minutes passed. Sweat trickled down my spine. Once Gustavo’s safety was ensured, the rest of the plan would go into play.

A message pinged on Luca’s phone. He stared at it and glanced at me, his face unreadable, then he looked at Santino. “We’re good.”

My uncle slid his chair back and stood, not taking his eyes off Santino. “I’m entrusting you with my niece. If I hear of any abuse, just know I will come for you.”

“Understood.” Santino smirked. “I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding.”

I was ready to throw up.

“Treat her with respect.”

Frankie snorted. “That’s rich coming from you, Luca. You just handed over your precious mafia princess in exchange for an old man to ensure the alliance with the Galluzo.”

“It was the original plan. De Lucci just fucked it up,” Luca said, fixing his suit and flicking a speck off his sleeve. “Well, gentlemen, I need to get going before the De Luccis find a way to ground my plane.”

“Oh, they’re hunting for you.” Frankie grinned in that maniacal way that made my skin crawl. “It’s all over my messages.”

“Fabulous,” Luca muttered.

“Your weapons will be handed to you at the door,” Alessandro said before turning to Santino. “Let’s get you and your men out of here.”

Frankie stubbed out his cigar. “Let me walk you out, Luca.”

My uncle nodded stiffly, glanced at me one more time, then strode out the door.

“Poor man is so guilty, he couldn’t even give you a hug.” Santino stared at the retreating backs of Frankie and Luca for long seconds before his gaze dropped to me. “See, if you’d just gone with me that first time, Gustavo wouldn’t have gotten a little banged up and we could have avoided all this drama.”

He put an arm around me and hauled me to his side in an unmistakable gesture of ownership. His cologne burned my nostrils and turned my already queasy stomach queasier.

Navel to the spine, I repeated in my head.

“I can’t believe you would hurt your uncle.”

“He’s a nobody. He’ll always remain a bastard’s son. All he had was money. No power. Once he sold those shares to the De Luccis, he became a marked man.”

We followed Alessandro and a crew of mafia soldiers out of the dining room into an elaborate Tuscan kitchen with high ceilings, fresco walls, and red tiles. We entered another room that appeared to be the kitchen’s pantry. An earthy smell joined Santino’s cloying scent before automatic lights revealed stacks of gallon-sized tomato cans, tins of olive oil, and other preserves that were a mainstay of an Italian kitchen. In the center of the room was an oak barrel with a wheel of parmesan on top of it.

Under any other circumstances, I would have been delighted to sample bread and cheese and olive oil if I weren’t marching toward my doom. More and more, I had a feeling Luca’s plan was going to fail and I was on my own to get out of this mess.

At the end of the room, Alessandro tugged on a wooden shelf to reveal a hidden door.

“Very nifty escape route,” Santino voiced his approval.

I had reservations about going inside it even if I knew that was part of the plan. I hesitated, my chest starting to feel heavy. I sucked in a lungful of air.

“Are you scared?” Santino asked with amusement.

“A little.” A lot, but it wasn’t what he thought.

Alessandro glared at me, then looked at Santino. “Get her in line. I hate wasting time.”

“You heard The Turk, cara mia,” he crooned and then patted my butt. “You’ll be fine.”

Without waiting for my reply, he dragged me through the secret portal. Lights came on. A landing at the bottom of three steps shifted to another set of seven steps before it angled into another staircase.

Our group of six followed Alessandro. I’d determined that two men belonged to Santino, while the other two worked for the Rossis. At the bottom of the stairs was a tunnel. When we were about to set foot into it, the unmistakable barrage of gunfire reached us.

“Luca, you son of a bitch,” Santino muttered, letting me go to peer back up the steps. “Should we—”

Alessandro yanked me behind him. “Go!”

I wasn’t prepared, but my feet took flight.

“Rossi, you asshole,” Santino roared. “Stop her.”

Shouting and more gunshots, louder this time, erupted behind me.

The plan. The plan. This wasn’t the plan, but I continued running.

It was dark in the tunnel, musky and wet. Some light bulbs strung along the wall were burned out and it seemed I was running blindly toward pitch blackness. All I could hear was my breathing, gunfire, and my footsteps.

I came to a fork in the tunnel that split into two. I glanced frantically from left to right, trying to decide which one I was supposed to take.

This wasn’t the plan.

Someone was supposed—

My feet moved to the right and stumbled over a lump on the ground, my hands shooting out to break the fall. Pain exploded from the heels of my hands and electrified my elbows. My knees scraped on the rough tunnel flooring.

I realized what I’d stumbled on.

A body.

Blood covered half its face.

A silent scream worked its way up my throat.

A figure emerged from the shadows, and even in the dim lighting, I recognized Santino’s soldier from the nightclub. “Your uncle didn’t think the boss trusted the Rossis completely, especially The Turk?”

I crab-walked backwards.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Moretti has fucked up—”

A shot rang out and the man fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings were cut.

My eyes flew in the direction of the sound.

Alessandro showed up and helped me to my feet. “Come on. Santino retreated but he’ll be back with more men.”

His voice sounded strange.

“My uncle.”

“Let’s hope Tony got the message to the De Luccis. We need more men.”

Voices came from behind.

We sprinted to the tunnel on the right, but Alessandro seemed to be struggling.

“Are you okay?”

He wheezed. “I’m fine. Don’t slow down.”

He was the one dragging me down, but I wasn’t about to leave him. He tripped a bit and cursed.

“Where are you shot?” I asked, my voice as calm as I could manage.

“Leg. Bullet went through, but it’s bleeding like a motherfucker. It’s not the artery.” He answered the question in my mind. The tunnel shifted into an uphill climb and I could see moonlight shining through the bars of a gate.

“Alessandro, you fucker! Frankie is dead. You hear me?”

The voices came closer and closer.

“You betrayed your brother. Your family!”

We came to a gate covered in vines. From what Luca had briefed me I was going to exit into the graveyard of the run-down family chapel.

I gritted my teeth when the gate screeched on its hinges, but we managed to pry it open.

We had taken a few steps when he fell to one knee. “Dammit,” Alessandro groaned. “I’m going to slow you down. Follow—”

“I hope you’re not saying I leave you here.”

“Sera. One of us has to get out of here. Alive.”

“We’re both getting out,” I snapped. “Now get up.”

I grunted and shoved him up.

“You’re so bossy,” he muttered. “My phone is buzzing, can you get it? It’s—”

“Got it.” I slipped it out from inside of his suit and held it to his face then to his ear. A muffled voice came over the line.

“Graveyard of the church,” Alessandro said. “We’re crossing the roundabout. Almost to the gate.”

“Rossi!” Santino screamed.

A hail of lead pelted the ground beside us and gave wings to our feet. Alessandro grunted and cursed.

The shouting came closer. The gate was twenty feet away. We weren’t going to make it.

Alessandro went down, taking me with him.

He half pinned me to the ground, stealing my breath.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

I crawled out from under him, my heart sinking when Santino was upon us. Two of his men started kicking Alessandro.

“Stop it,” I shouted but Santino grabbed my hair and yanked me to stand.

“My runaway bride,” he sneered. “Now what will I do with a woman who not only stabbed me in the back once, but twice.” He looked me up and down. “You cunt. I was going to treat you like a queen. But there’s only one way to deal with treacherous women like you.”

He shoved me away. “On your knees.”

“No,” Alessandro choked.

“I’ll deal with you later,” Santino said before he returned his malevolent gaze to me. “I told you to get on your knees.” He paced a short distance back and forth, back and forth, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

I was frozen. Incapable of doing what I was told. My ears were clogged up and all I could think about was Matteo.

“Please,” I said, trying to buy time for whoever was coming with Tony.

I took a risk. I hoped Luca was able to save the former Galluzo boss’s daughter and that an alliance would be cemented to stop Santino. I hoped my uncle would avenge me. But I had a feeling it would be Matteo who would make it his mission to get rid of this scourge of the underworld.

“On your knees!” Santino screamed. He came forward and shoved me into position. He was rabid. My second betrayal had pushed him over the edge. He backed away again, muttering to himself, alternately pointing the gun at me and hammering the butt of it to his head. He was weighing the consequences that would rain down on him if he killed me.

I stole a glance at Alessandro.

He was fighting Santino’s men, roaring and cursing at everyone and trying to get to me. But he was injured, and they overpowered him.

Santino stilled from his fight with himself as though he’d come to a decision. He raised his gun and pointed it at me.

“Luca will come for you,” I whispered in one last-ditch effort to stay alive.

His crazed gaze met mine. “Not if I send him to hell first.”

I closed my eyes, my fingers worrying over the bracelet of St. Rita like a talisman. A flash of light lit behind my eyelids.

I was dead.


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