Mattia is waiting for us on the small dock. Like all the staff, he dresses in all black.
“Good to have you home, Allegra,” he says as we moor. “No problems?” he asks, eyeing Ms Moorside and Kelley.
I shake my head. “No. Where is Don Ferrante?”
“In his office. I radioed up. He’s waiting.”
Stepping off the boat, I don’t look back. Mia and Toni will escort our guests. And for some reason, I’m reticent to see Ms Moorside’s reaction to her surroundings. I’m not sure why. The woman means nothing to me, and yet, I have a vision playing on a loop in my head of her face when I shot her friend. The sheer terror, which I expected, is usually something I revel in, yet with her, it has conjured something else—something I’m not ready to explore. So, I will do my job, drop her off, and hope I’m finally told what this has been all about.
The stone steps leading up to the cellar are damp and cold. God, I hate the winter, especially outside of Italy. I can’t wait to get home. Actually, I can’t wait to get to my room to shower and change. Though I’m used to having my hair scraped back, it still gives me a pounding headache after several hours. Maybe I’ll just chop it off.
Two guards wait at the cellar entrance. They give me a curt nod as I pass by. Leading the way through the main house, I almost stop to see what Ms Moorside makes of it all, but I catch myself in time. Show no weakness—no interest—that’s how the head of a family should act.
Only when we approach Don Ferrante’s office do I stop and turn. “Take Kelley to receive proper treatment,” I say to Toni. “Mia, guard the door.”
Toni whisks Kelley away. I can see Ms Moorside wants to run after her, but she’s sensible enough to remain still. As soon as Toni and Kelley disappear around the corner, her gaze returns to me. There is that defiance again. It’s like an ember that glows in her eyes, just waiting to ignite. I lick my lips and her eyes follow the movement. Interesting.
Mia, clearing her throat, brings me back to the task at hand. Turning, I take a second to breathe slowly, letting my impenetrable mask slip back into place. I knock once and then push the door open. Expecting Don Ferrante to be waiting behind his desk, I’m surprised to see him standing by the window, gazing out onto the garden.
“Sir, Ms Moorside,” I announce.
Normally, I call Don Ferrante by his first name. But not in the company of a stranger. I show him the respect he deserves as the head of the family. Stepping to the side, I effectively expose Ms Moorside, who was hiding behind me. She’s wringing her hands as her eyes dart around the room, finally landing on the Don. Her eyebrows furrow and I know she’s desperately trying to figure out who he is.
“You may leave, Allegra,” he says without turning around.
I grit my teeth. He’s dismissing me. Ms Moorside turns slightly in my direction, and I can see she doesn’t want me to go. After all, I am the devil she knows. The Don is an unknown threat.
Knowing better than to argue, I exit the office and quietly shut the door. My earlier desire to shower and change is gone. Now, I need to release some frustration. I hope Toni has dealt with Kelley because I need to beat on him for a few hours. Toni is one of the very few people brave enough to take me on.
“Stay here,” I grind out to Mia as I leave. She’s smart enough to keep her face passive.
Toni is just leaving the guest wing when I see him.
“All good?” he asks.
“Suit up. We’re training.”
Sweat pours from my brow. My breathing is laboured, but I’m not done, unlike Toni, who looks seconds from collapse.
“Get up,” I growl. Adrenaline is flowing and I feel antsy to throw some more punches. My body is going to protest in the morning, but I don’t care.
“I’m done, Allegra,” he gasps.
“I’ll step in,” Rosa says from the door. She’s already got her hands wrapped. I nod and Toni crawls off the mat.
“Do your worst,” I say, jumping up and down to loosen up.
Rosa smiles at me. She’s just as vicious as me, but lacks my stamina. I train constantly. If I’m not in meetings or taking care of business in other ways, I’m in the gym. Every property has one. I ensure all the staff and family members are trained in several martial arts. It’s the main reason other families fear us so much. The days of old are just that—old. So many families still live by an outdated way of life. The head of the family sits, getting rich and fat, relying on their position to scare workers into submission. They expect their underlings to do all the dirty work and fighting, leaving themselves weak.
In this family, it is expected every member, be they a driver, cook, or, like me, a boss, will be capable of deadly force. We all know we can take care of business. It bonds us as a family, too. There is a hierarchy, like other mafia families, but we are different. There is no need to use fear, not when each person under the umbrella of the Ferrante name wants to be here because they love the Don, and me, and each other. We strive for pure loyalty. They know their worth, as do I.
Rosa circles me several times. She’s like a caged tiger ready to attack. Unfortunately for her, she’s too easy to anticipate. Her eyes give her away, so the second she pounces, I am all over her. She fights with everything she has, which is precisely what I need to finally work through my frustration. Rosa lies on the mat, breathing heavily. I lay beside her.
“You were extra worked up today,” she splutters.
“Mmm.”
“He will tell you,” she says. “Patience.”
