I was forever a few steps behind my sister in Toronto and then Zurich but perhaps her luck has finally run out. From the second-story room, I have a good view of the street. If my intel is accurate and she’s here, I’ll soon know it.
I pour myself a glass of wine while I wait, pondering the fact that the Morellis emigrated from Calabria to the States over a century ago. They still have kin here, an interesting coincidence.
Of course, that bringsherto mind, my wife, who is never far from my thoughts.
I saw the fountain of Piazza Dogana last night. Though nothing like the Bellagio’s impressive fountains, it still reminded me of the way Caterina’s brown eyes danced upon seeing the other for the first time and later the stars in the night sky of the Mojave Desert. She teased me that night was as close to a honeymoon as she was likely to get. I have more money than I could possibly spend and my wife never even expected a honeymoon out of our marriage.
Pulling my phone out, I decide to torment myself some more. “Jesus, what?” Armando grumbles irritably when he answers. His leeriness around me has faded again. Helps when there’s an ocean between us.
The sight of himtouchingCaterina… Even if he thought he was being helpful trying to scare information out of her, I really was ready to kill him that night when I walked in and saw him with his hands on her arms and their bodies far too close. We haven’t traded punches since we were boys, but it’s a miracle our fight that followed the next morning wasn’t bloodier.“You’re very possessive of a wife you would cheat on so casually.”He wanted to provoke me. And he succeeded. My split lip is still healing, and I’m certain he still bears my marks.
“Tell me what I want to know, and you can go back to sleep.”
“She doesn’t speak to me more than necessary. She’s still closeted with Francesca. They’ve barely been out of the room.”
“It’s been days now.” I can practicallyhearhim shrugging through the phone at my desperation and feel like I’m on the verge of losing my shit. “Alright, just keep Rocco away from her.”
“I know my orders. Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”
“Don’t test me, Armando. You’re a good soldier but-”
“Fine. Don’t worry. I know my place,Capo.”He spits the title out and maybe we’ll go another few rounds before this animosity between us is truly put to rest.
“Tell me if anything changes and… I want you to fetch something from my bedroom.” It’s childish but at least Armando doesn’t question me.
I hang up and start to dial her number before stopping myself. It’s the middle of the night there. She’s asleep or should be.
I made the choice to push her love away.
The next morning, I had made another one, the choice to let her hate me. What might’ve given me some petty satisfaction only made me feel like shit the second it was done. And, as the days have passed, I’ve felt even worse. I’ve thrown myself into the hunt, telling myself it’s better that my wife hates me. My heart is not convinced. These fuckingfeelings. I never asked for them.
Movement below awakens the hunter in me once more. The door I’ve been watching doesn’t open but a familiar face passes by it – Dante Morelli. Cold fury pumps through my veins. Why ishehere?
Frankie said her brother was going to help Sofia escape but she doesn’t think it happened. I knew I recognized that tall, bearded man with the reddish-brown hair. Even with his beard, I should have recognized my half-Irish, son-of-a-rat cousin sooner. If I had, we wouldn’t be in this mess. But, if Ronan Donnelly has managed to play dead for three years without detection until now, he sure as hell isn’t stupid enough to come to Italy to hide a mafia princess.
I believed Nico’s story after Caterina had calmed things down between us but Dante, that smug fucker, had kept antagonizing me about Sofia being missing. What if there was more to it than just him being an asshole?
I pick up the rifle by my side and find Dante through the scope, moving with him down the street. The beast inside me grows excited at the prospect of the kill. One shot to the head and he would cease to exist.An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a brother for a brother.
Caterina’s teary face floats in front of my mind’s eye, but I swat it away like a gnat. I’ve never hesitated to kill a man. Nico took my brother. I could take his. Simple and effective. Revenge. Poetic in a twisted way.
Dante stops at a flower stall, speaking with the seller and choosing a bouquet. He’s buying a bouquet of flowers like some goddamn Romeo in Italy when he belongs in Chicago? What possible reason could there be for it unless it has something to do with my missing sister being here?
My finger hovers over the trigger.
Find Sofia and go home.
It might be easier with a live Dante talking but fuck that. I’ll kill the bastard and find Sofia without him.
But, Caterina…
I lower the rifle, unable to stomach the thought of her tears. I watch Dante Morelli walk further down the street until he’s out of range and out of sight, and I can’t keep denying certain things. My heart belongs to his sister. It has for far longer than I’ve wanted to acknowledge that.
Twenty minutes later, I disassemble the rifle, finish my wine and pack my meager belongings. I knock on the door I’ve been watching, half hoping Sofia will answer and half dreading it. An old woman does instead and I ask in Italian if she’s seen this girl, flashing a picture of my sister. If her confusion and denial is feigned, she’s the best damn actress I’ve ever met.
Satisfied, I walk away, placing a call to book a flight home. To hell with what my father wants. Sofia made her choice to run. It’ll mean a certain degree of disgrace and fallout for thefamily, but we’ve suffered worse, and she knows her way home if she changes her mind someday. I have a wife waiting for me in Vegas, and I don’t intend to spend any more time away from her. If I didn’t know they’d wilt, I’d buy flowers from the same stall Dante visited to carry home to her.
***
