“Thanks.” I walk past him and into the front of the house.
Marco is waiting for me in the kitchen. Several of his men are scattered around the large room, and I can smell something cooking on the stove. It’s probably some kind of tomato sauce and pasta, if I had to guess. It’s a cliché, but pasta is easy as hell when it comes to feeding large numbers.
“Gio,” Marco says, standing. “What a pleasure.”
“Marco.” We don’t shake hands. He looks at me with a smile on his face, but I know there’s menace behind everything he does.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks.
“I have a message for you from the Rossis.”
His face darkens, and the smile disappears. “Since when do you work for them?”
“I don’t,” I say. “But he did.”
I open the bag and dump my father’s severed head out onto the table.
The men all take a step back except for Marco, who stands his ground without changing his expression in the least. Marco stares at the head with a shocked silence surrounding us, his men waiting for orders.
Fucking pussies. For a bunch of hardened criminals, they sure do act like a bunch of babies over one severed head.
“That’s your father,” Marco says at last.
“That's right. We were going to hit the Rossi Don, but my father sold me out instead.” He clucks his tongue and takes a step back, narrowing his eyes and considering my words.
“How did… this happen?” he asks, gesturing at the head.
“The Rossis made a new deal with me. The old Don, Martino, is dead. His daughter killed him, and Toni is in charge now. Toni’s offer for peace is that if I killed my father and brought you his head, we’d be square.” I shrug and nod at the head. “That’s what I’ve done.”
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded. “Why the fuck would he want that?”
“My father was a piece of shit. I think he’s trying to tell you that the war is only going to get worse from here on out.” I shrug. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.”
“Why would you do this to your own father?” Marco stares at me, shaking his head and looking at me like I’m a rat, like I’m the piece of shit here. It pisses me off.
“You know him. He was a scumbag. You were never going to let him in.” I begin to walk backward toward the door. “He betrayed me, and he paid for it. Now we’re finished.”
“Wait,” he says.
“No. I’m finished with you, Marco. I’m finished with the Rossis, too. You’re going to let me leave this place and never come back.”
“Why would I let you leave?” he asks. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“You know me, Marco. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” I pause and smile at him. “Good luck with the war.”
Without another word, I turn and leave the room. My back is to him to let him know he’s no threat to me. My blood runs cold knowing they could kill me. But it would break code. There would be no honor in my murder.
My job is finished. Marco doesn’t say anything as I leave and head back out front. Nobody comes after me, and nobody stops me as I get into my car and drive back toward the main road.
The gate shuts behind me, and I feel slight relief. But I won’t be complete until I have my Grace in my arms.
I roll down my window and feel the cool breeze on my face. I feel free for the first time in my entire life. My father’s dead, and my ties with the mafia are officially severed. The Romanos won't want me back, and the Rossis will probably kill me if they ever see me again. But as long as we stay away, they have no reason to come after us.
It’s just me and Grace now. I’m nobody’s fucking lapdog anymore. No more contracts from them, and no more killings. My life is in my own hands.
And the only thing I want is my princess. She’s the only thing that matters anymore.
My heart hammers in my chest as I speed back toward her. I grab my phone on the passenger seat and dial up her number. The darkness is nowhere to be seen, and I feel optimistic for the first time in my life. I believe the darkness is gone, or at least it’s buried down deep beneath this new feeling.
