She must have noticed, and her eyes sparked. “The Russians,” she said. “What I do not finish here, they will. And then the Caffi family will be tied to eradicating one of the most legendaryfamilies in history. But this. What is between you, me, and Rocco Fausti…it is personal.”
“That’s where you were going that night,” I said with certainty. “You leftmyhusband for dead, and then you were going to, what…rat his family out to the enemy?”
Business was discussed around me sometimes, but I got the feeling Rocco only allowed bits and pieces to come through. He had been prepping me for his life, my new role, but this was still our honeymoon. He said there were times when men were allowed a year to enjoy the pleasures of marriage before official duties began again. Maybe he wouldn’t have been allowed the same time if the situation with Rosaria Caffi hadn’t happened the way it had, but since it seemed like he was…coming to terms with this entirely new direction of his life, the time was being given.
The word “rat” from my mouth seemed to trigger her. She went mad, screaming at me, slicing the air so fast, it whistled. I couldn’t get a jab in, not unless I wanted to be shredded. I was mostly holding the blade for self-defense, and if I could get a swipe in, I would. She’d nicked me first. It was only fair.
I was standing with my knife poised and ready, ready to duck and weave, and then…she was gone.
Chapter 33
The Storm that Ended it All
My husband had come out of nowhere, it seemed, and knocked her across the room like a linebacker in the championship game. Her knife hit the floor before she did. She crashed with a howl, and he crashed with a growl, his body much heavier than hers, and I could have sworn the stone beneath my feet cracked. An irreparable fissure that would continue to crack with years, unless it was fixed.
Vincenzo and Guido were suddenly in the room.
“Abree.” Guido leaned down, snatching the knife up, keeping his eyes on the wheezing woman he had called Abree.
“There was a twist I did not see coming,” Vincenzo said. “However, it makes sense. The only difference between Rosaria and Abree is the mole above Abree’s lip.”
“Abree,” I breathed out, still stunned.
Vincenzo blinked at me. “Rosaria’ssorella.”
I dropped my own knife and ran to my husband, falling to my knees next to him. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open, and maybe I wasn’t inside of his head, but I knew the world around him spun in dizzying fractures of light.
“Vincenzo,” I said, my voice full of authority, “help me getRocco to his feet. We have to get out of here. I’m not positive, but I think that’s a Russian boat coming straight for thecastello.”
Vincenzo’s eyes snapped to the window, narrowing against the darkness. Guido’s eyes looked in the same direction. They looked at each other, and it was one of those looks—they had been by each other’s sides long enough to communicate silently. And if I wasn’t mistaken…Vincenzo and Guido were brothers.
In an instant, both men kicked into gear. It was Guido who helped Rocco to his feet, even though he leaned on both of us to walk.
It was like Rocco was on that boat outside of the window, swaying with the violent rise and fall of the swells as he tried to walk across the heaving vessel.
Vincenzo had Abree by the arms, keeping her close. She was screaming, acting like she was stabbing something, even though she didn’t have a knife.
“This is what becomes of people who think too much of themselves and then lose it all,” Vincenzo said. “Abree Caffi.”
“We are not leaving because of Rocco,” Guido said, taking the brunt of Rocco’s weight, though he wasn’t letting me go. “We would stay and fight. He does not want you in the middle of this.”
“I don’t want him—any of you—in the middle of this either,” I whispered. “I’m sorry this is happening.” Maybe it wasn’t Rosaria who sent the Russians here, but her sister did, and I wondered if she was just continuing where Rosaria had left off in life.
Guido’s eyes turned kind, and so soft, I thoughtImelted for a second at the gratitude in them. Then Rocco growled and it snapped me back to attention. As we tore through thecastello, the three of us almost in a six-legged race instead of a two legged one, Guido took command of thecastello,shouting orders to the men. Their eyes were wide, and they were unmoving as Vincenzo carted a fighting Abree Caffi behind us.
The men were so paralyzed with fear at the sight of whatthey believed was a violent ghost, Guido had to stop and make an impassioned speech about Abree impersonating Rosaria to gain access to the island. The real threat these men should be preparing for was the boat coming to shore. Guido was under Donato, if I remembered correctly, and the man under Guido’s charge was snapping at the men, telling them to get their heads on straight,war was about to begin!
It seemed like a few at a time started shaking their heads, getting them on straight, preparing for battle as the man under Guido, Emilio, started barking orders. The main one, though, wasdo not get close to shore!
Once we started moving again and were able to reach the door, we almost flew back in it. The wind was so strong, it felt like we started walking sideways, pushing against it. Guido gave me an apologetic look. I had one hand on my skirt and the other one on Rocco. He refused to let me go. And even though Abree had whacked him in the head with something, his body was still fighting the strong gusts of wind better than I was. He kept his hand firmly on me, almost like he was wishing he could set his hand in my skin like he could my dress. My hair whipped in the wind, almost caught in a cyclone atop my head. I had no more hands to hold it down.
A crack of lightning lit up the chaotic world, followed by a roll of thunder that made the windows in thecastelloquake, and the earth beneath our feet tremble.
One of the soldiers was coming toward us, trying to escape the wind, heading toward the front entrance, and when the lightning had cracked and the thunder had rumbled, it was like he’d run into a wall and came to a dead stop, his wide eyes on me. Frozen. Then his mouth started moving, and he made the sign of the cross.
At first, I thought it was Abree. It was like she was still fighting with me or Rocco inside of her mind. She was yelling into the wind, the sound of her voice shrill and carrying, and she was still stabbing at nothing. I realized in that moment how much shesounded like Rosaria, except Rosaria’s voice was superior to hers. It seemed Vincenzo might have taken some pity on her. He gave her his chest to stab at. But the foot solider didn’t seem to care about Abree. When we passed him, he skirted aroundme, and letting his guard down to the powerful hand of the wind, it tripped him and he fell over, grabbing his nuts as he rolled.
What the hell?
