There’s a small chuckle as he heads back to the party, and Vittorio snatches my hand in his and drags me towards the kitchen, pulling out his phone.
“Back doors, now.”
He hangs up and pulls me along. I don’t ask, I just follow. When we step into the kitchen, the heat is stifling as we make our way through the bodies, stepping out into the cool night air. There’s a screech of tyres coming to a halt and Vittorio snatches at the door handle, stepping back so I can climb in and pushing in behind me. Luca is driving away before the door is even closed. He flies down the lanes as Vittorio sits beside me, holding my hand with his gun resting on his leg. He stares out of the windows, his eyes flicking, checking to see if we’re being followed.
“Where’s Marianne and Matteo?” I gasp.
“They’re together,” Luca assures me. “Matteo went to get her when I got the call. They shouldn’t be that far behind us.”
He keeps driving, but the pit in my stomach won’t shake. If Massimo has hurt her, I will make it my mission to make him watch while I destroy everything he’s worked so dastardly for. I will make him watch while I gut his heir, and I’ll kill him in the slowest, most painful way imaginable. I won’t stop until his bloodline is erased, and then my eyes flick to Vittorio, and the pit grows bigger.
We pull up at the house, and I’m ushered out of the car. I climb the steps and push through the door. But I can’t go any further. I start to pace. It’s ten minutes before I hear the gate followed by the sound of the car coming up the driveway.
When Marianne enters the house, I breathe. She gives me a tight-lipped smile as she heads straight towards the kitchen. I’m left standing in the entrance hall, Vittorio on one side, Matteo on the other. Just staring at each other. Luca walks in from parking the car, and we all just stare awkwardly at each other until I shake my head and walk off.
I head upstairs to my room. I need to get out of this fucking dress. This day has been the shitshow I expected.
Bellino
Chapter Twenty-One
Apparently, the Syndicate have ordered a truce for this farce, and I have to stand here and watch the woman I was destined to marry, marry my little fucking brother and act like it isn’t a huge smack in the face. Like this isn’t the most disrespectful they could be and expect me to just watch. This life he is claiming was supposed to be mine. I was supposed to rule with her by my side, and now I have to stand here and not murder either of them for betraying me.
She’s beautiful, and I can’t help but think she would look so much more stunning with her throat slit, blood seeping out onto that perfectly stark white dress. Her eyes wide while her body lay limp on the aisle like an offering to the gods. Flower petals fluttering around her while her long dark hair frames her like a halo. Breathtaking.
The service is dreary. The only good thing is the open bar. I nod to the relevant people. That’s all they’re fucking getting from me. I scowl across at the “happy couple” and want to barf. I knock back my drink as syndicate members complain about the distaste and the travesty, blah blah fucking blah, so who actually in this fucking place decidedon a cease-fire for them to get married? Which spineless piece of shit sanctioned this? I glance at the members one by one. Father. He’s the only one powerful enough for the others to listen to. He’s the only one who could force a ruling, and I scowl at him. Yet again, my little brother gets what he wants, and I will be left with the rotting corpses.
They cut the cake, and after the music starts, they try to slip out of the back. I see Father corner them before they scurry away, and I smirk. They’ll get theirs, all of them, mark my words. I will have their blood on my hands soon enough, but tonight I will make use of the free bar. To hit them in the only place I can right now. Their pockets.
I toss another drink back, chased by a few more until the mild buzz makes me less… me. I see Enzo de Luca eyeing me from across the room. When our eyes lock, he comes sauntering over. Sticking out his hand. I glare at it for a few seconds longer than is comfortable before reaching out and shaking it once. I slide my hand back into my trouser pocket, rubbing it on the fabric as I do. I’m not a fan of most of the men in the Syndicate, but Enzo is one of the worst.
“Bellino, so unfortunate about the… turn of events.” He has the decency to look uncomfortable. He looks away as if trying to see if he’s being watched, as if there’s someone he doesn’t want to see him speaking to me. I follow his gaze as it darts around the room before it trains back on me. “I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter. Luna.” He grins, stepping to the side and pointing at a young blonde girl beside him.
I scowl at him. Daughter? He has two sons, Luciano and Ricardo. No mention of a daughter. I turn to take a look and then glance back. She’s plain looking. She looks likeevery other blonde hair blue eyed bimbo, all designer bags and fake boobs. I suppose if you like that type of thing. I don’t, but whatever.
“Where have you been hiding her?” I quiz him.
He shrugs, avoiding the question. “I know this may come across as insensitive, but seeing as you’re at an…” He pauses, trying to think of the phrase, I suppose. Before he shakes his head and continues. “Anyway, I was wondering if we could talk about an arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” I question. The scowl etched on my face.
“I think securing the footing of both our families will be detrimental to the foundation of the Syndicate.”
And there it is, attempting to pimp his daughter out to the meanest person in the Syndicate to better serve him. To solidify his standing within the organisation. I nod. I’ll entertain the fact that she’s not an atrocious-looking girl. I survey her features while he talks. I’m not sure if she walked away now if I’d be able to recognise her again.
But my eyes gaze over Enzo’s shoulder, disinterested in having this conversation here, right now. That’s when my eyes catch on him. There’s a guy there who looks similar to the girl. Same hair and similar features. I eye him cautiously. Enzo sees me staring and turns to follow my look.
“Bellino, this is my son, Leonardo.” He turns to look at us as Enzo says his name. His eyes assess every inch of me. His gaze scans from my shoes all the way up my body before his eyes settle on mine. They’re a brighter blue than hers. He stares at me for a second before he leans forward and takes my hand, shaking it.
His grip is firm, but I can feel the tension in his body. I can tell he doesn’t want to be here either. A fucking son too. Once he’s shaken my hand, he nods and gives me a tight-lipped smile, the tension in his jaw so prominent right now. He takes a step back and goes back to surveying the room. His eyes roam, taking in everything, while the girl just stares, batting her eyes at me. Where has he been hiding these family members that we’ve never heard of?
I turn back to Enzo. “I’m sure we can come up with some kind of arrangement.”
She giggles and looks down, and I find it irritating, so I scowl and look away. Enzo takes it for the dismissal that it is and scurries back across the room, with his two illegitimate offspring. They’re clearly not his wife’s, but isn’t that what all the Syndicate members seem to do? I wouldn’t be surprised if Father had a few bastards sprinkled around. But who am I to judge? I’ll entertain an arrangement, for now. I smirk at myself.
Vittorio
Chapter Twenty-Two
