He stops a few feet away from my bed, watching me warily. Neither of us say a word, there’s too much to say, but yet, nothing at the same time. I curse Sarah for taking my weapons. I’m not sure what to do with this man… I don’t know him. That’s clear from the complete lack of arrogance. Hell, he’s not even wearing a suit, which really disturbs me for some fucking reason. Aside from during sex, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him without a suit. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he fucking slept in one.
“Is there something you need?” I finally give in and ask. It comes out far more gentle than I planned, but fuck, the man in front of me looks so damn lost.
Allesandro rocks back onto his heels, crimson staining his cheeks as he grips his hands so tight that white shows along his knuckles. He lowers his eyes, and with a quiet, deferential voice, says, “I would like to help find Roman and Emilio. Please.”
Scoffing, I raise an eyebrow. “And how exactly would you be able to help? From what I’ve heard, you’ve been busy giving up. Now you expect me to believe you’re suddenly up to finding our enemies and taking them out?”
He flinches, and I know my barbed words hit their mark. I steel myself against the guilt that suddenly washes over me. Itsomehow feels wrong to mock this man, which…fuck. What is this world coming to?
With a sigh, he nods, and for a moment, it seems like he’s going to walk out. But then he stiffens his spine and raises his eyes to mine. This time, I see the flames, the need that I can recognize. He’s certainly not the great Il Padrone he used to be, but at least there’s something there. And I can work with that.
“You’re right. I gave up. On me. Because I didn’t deserve anything else. But I will never give up on Emilio. He is the only thing in life that makes sense.” He touches his chest briefly, but doesn’t look away. “I live for him. Maybe that doesn’t make sense. Fuck knows my father would never understand it, but Emilio is the only reason I have for breathing, for living, and I will do everything I can to find him and get him back where he belongs.”
Grinding my teeth, I retort, “And where does he belong?”
“With the Council. He is an amazing Boss, and what you all have created is special. It’ll work. I am proud of all of my former Boys, and together, I know you’ll exceed anything I could have managed in my lifetime. That is the best legacy I could have asked for, even if I know it’s despite me more than because of me.”
I look up at the ceiling, wishing his words weren’t daggers to my heart, because I know Marcus’s opinion of the asshole, and…unfortunately, I can understand why. With a deep exhale, I return my attention to him. “Very well. I’ll talk to Carter and see what's the best way to have you help. But, I want a promise from you.”
“Anything.” Allesandro doesn’t hesitate, and I wonder what the fuck Luca did to the man to change him this radically. Or maybe this is who he always would have been, if he didn’t go through all the fuckery he did.
“One, I need you to get better. I don’t give a fuck what that means. You listen to my sister who, for some reason, still cares about you. Therapy, actually eating, whatever. Do it. If you backslide, you’re gone. And second…pick up the phone and call Marcus.”
Allesandro swallows what must be an instinctive denial, but he surprisingly pushes it down. His vivid blue eyes don’t waver from mine as he states, “You have my promise. And as soon as I can have access to a phone, I’ll call him. He’s impressive, isn’t he?”
I want to bite back, “No thanks to you”, but I don’t. For one, I can’t find it in myself to grind him down any further than he already has been. And second? Fuck if he’s not one of the reasons my War is so damn good. Even if I disagree with the methods. Thank fuck the Council is making other choices. I don’t say it, but that’s the real question in all of this… Can the mighty Il Padrone live under the rules set by others? And somehow…I think he can. Fuck.
He must sense I’m tired, because he leaves as quietly as he entered, and I add“figuring that shit out”to my list. Shaking my head, I wait for Sarah to come back and let me out of here. I have too much on my list, and if I’m right, Tennant is probably unravelling even further than I am.
It’s going to be interesting to see what happens. No matter what, we will get Lio and Roman back. We will destroy our enemies. As for the rest? Well, that’ll be a matter of time.
Fuck if I know what to hope for at this point, but as long as I have my family, that’s what matters. I guess we’ll find out exactly who will be part of that family later on…
Choices. We all have to make them. I can only hope that Allesandro understands this is his last chance. I’ll bring the sword down on him myself if needed…if others don’t beat me to it first.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Senator.”
Giving a bland look to the woman in front of me, I take her hand and say a quiet “thank you”, as I have many times over the last few hours.
Did any of the people who showed up for the funeral care about my son, or even know his name? Of course not, but this is the game we play. Not just those who live in the shadows, but the public eye is full of half truths and fake smiles painted on even faker faces.
The whole song and dance is as tiring as it is invigorating, and if it wasn't for the ultimate end goal, I would have burned them all to the ground a long time ago. But, as Kieran so helpfully reminded me, the best game to win is one the losers didn't even know they were playing.
The boy may have been idealistic, and a failure in his personal life, but he did havesomegood ideas.
Which is why killing him was a shame. But I couldn't justify his many fuckups any longer. Not if I want to prove I am the best choice to lead, not only the Dowing Family, but over every territory—first in this city, then the state, and then…the entire Eastern seaboard.
Reporters are waiting outside the cemetery gates, but we ignore them as we slip into the car. We've said all that needs to be said for now. Until all the pieces are in place, neither Cecily nor myself will speak to the press. The next steps need to be perfectly executed, otherwise it'll all fall apart around us.
As soon as the limo door closes, Cecily moves as far away from Lachlan as possible. Biting my tongue is hard. The reprimand that she cannot allow the façade to slip, even in private, is right there, but I hold back. Today is supposed to be a sad affair, so I’ll save the lecture on remembering to practice the deception for tomorrow.
“I need to duck out of the reception early,” Cecily says, her attention on her phone.
I stare at my daughter until the weight of it forces her to look up. “You know better. What will people think?”
She has the decency not to roll her eyes as she crosses her legs and meets my gaze. “I couldn’t care less what some strangers who are only there for clout may think of me. You gave me a task, and I need to see it through. We have Emilio and Roman right where we want them, and if we want to make any progress in this, we need to get started. We have two-thirds of their ‘Council’. We need the last one to complete the set. Though, I do believe we can get Carter Amato, or De Luca—whatever he’s calling himself—to cave, if we show we’re not messing around. That’s where Tom fucked up when he had Allesandro andCristian. He didn’t show the Families the danger the Bosses were in. I’m not a jackass.”
I consider what she’s saying, and she isn’t wrong. Politics are messy, it doesn’t matter if they’re legal or illegal ones. The balancing act to keep up our public appearance, and do what needs to be done… “This is why you’re the one who lived,” I tell her quietly. “Fine. Make a scene at the wake, it’ll look as if you’re too grief stricken to stick around for the whole event. Your fiancé can escort you out.”
