Page 50 of Blood & Heartache

“Just like that?” I asked, impressed with Athos’s smooth move and totally understood how it could suck someone in with the promise of fame and fortune.

“Yup, just like that,” Gunner said, then slumped forward. “I had no idea they were the mafia until it was too late. I’d climbed too high and knew too much by the time Colmazio approached me about becoming a lieutenant for the underboss. He paired me with Athos who’d been a mentor already, so I was comfortable and didn’t see it for what it truly was, the tightening of the noose. Once I gave my oath to the family and spilled my blood over my weapons, I was in for life. All the files, deals, and doors that had been closed to me were now suddenly open. The dirty truth of who and what the Caprioni Family was had been laid out before me. Athos was right there by my side telling me how things would be different once the new underboss showed up. He believed they would take the whole operation in a new direction once things had been settled.”

That had me frowning. While I believed Astin did intend to take the Family in a new direction, I didn’t think it was away from criminal enterprises. If Athos’s plan was to have his own people in charge making up the leadership, did that mean he was trying to reroute the entire business? Make it legit and hand over the ruling power to Harvey? None of this made sense, and there had to be more I wasn’t seeing.

“G-man, did he ever say who the underboss was going to be?” I inquired. “I got the impression you had no idea it was going to be Astin, but did you have some sense of who you thought it would be?”

Gunner shook his head slowly. “That was one thing he was tight-lipped about, but I did get the feeling it was someone we’d never see coming. Like Athos was preparing a place for this person who was going to need a team of people to support them in their efforts. When I met Astin, everything made sense until that night…”

Reaching out to him, I gently gripped the back of his neck and pulled him to me in a hug of sorts. “Yeah, that night changed everything for everyone.”

“How are you still able to be around her and look at her the way you do? She’d have killed you,” Gunner said vehemently. “She isn’t the one who’s going to change our world, she’s going to destroy it. Athos warned me to keep a close eye on her, said she wasn’t who she seemed on the surface, and he was right. That woman is a wolf in sheep’s clothing just lulling you into a false sense of security.”

“The reason I can still love her as much as I do is simply because I know the whole story,” I answered honestly. “While Astin was hidden from the world, she was training, learning everything she needed to survive when she came here. One by one, every person she counted on left her until she was all alone in that house to be tortured in the name of training. We recently discovered that Astin isn’t only a Caprioni but also a Raffa. Do you know who they are?”

Gunner frowned as he shook his head. “Should I know the name?”

“The Cosa Nostra back in the motherland was started by five families… Accardi, De Santis, Leoni, Raffa, and Zuccaro. As time passed and the organization grew, other families were added to the list. The Caprioni line made their name in the following generation of families. Out of those who came after the five founding families, the Caprioni were the ones to watch. Colmazio’s father, Gillo Caprioni, was the one to branch out and lay down roots here in Mansara. He didn’t do well, but when Colmazio took over, he knew what to do and created the empire you see today,” I explained, feeling a little silly giving a history lesson to the guy, but he needed to understand.

“What does all this have to do with Astin?” Gunner pressed, his expression relaying just how lost he was.

“Normally, the underboss will take time to be educated by the founding families. They go to the motherland and learn from those lines who started it all. Colmazio did this as tradition dictated, and when he left three months later, he wasn’t alone. Natalina Raffa, Astin’s mother, came back with him. Natalina was the last of the Raffa line, meaning that Astin is the sole heir to the Caprioni line as well as the Raffa line, two families that have immense power in their own right.” I paused to make sure that Gunner was still tracking with me.

“The Raffa are renowned for their bloodthirsty way of dealing with things. Every one of their children are taught to be ruthless, cunning, and feared by others. No one knows what they do to those who will be heir to the family, but it’s rumored they torture them, claiming they’re preparing them for the future. Many leaders of the Raffa Family have gone crazy in later years, killing hundreds of their people in the misguided belief they weren’t trustworthy. Gunner, the Raffa sent someone to train Astin, to prepare her for the future as they do all their heirs.” I took a second to calm myself as the fury I felt raged inside me. “Personally, I believe it’s a fucking miracle that she’s as sane as she is. After seeing what she looks like trapped in a nightmare of her own memory, I pray she never remembers what they did to her.”

Gunner jerked away from me and stood hugging himself like he was worried he’d fall apart. “Are you telling me her own family did this to her? They turned her into a monster?”

“They had to hypnotize her to make her forget everything. It was the only way for her to have any kind of life,” I shared. “She didn’t choose to be this… all Astin ever did was survive. How can I hate her for that? If I turn my back on her, then am I any better than the people who supposedly loved her yet let this happen? What kind of man would I be to say I love her but turn away from her the second I see the damage the world has done? That’s not the kind of love I’d wish on anyone, so I’m not backing away from this challenge. Astin deserves people who will fight for her as much as they fight alongside her.”

My words seemed to hit Gunner to the core as he started to pace and hyperventilate. “What have I done? How could I say those things to her? I called her a monster. Oh God… the horrific things I accused her of.” His hands gripped his hair like he was trying to pull it out. “Fucking useless, that's what I am to her. I believed them. I believed everything they told me. The lies they spewed so easily, playing on my damn pride and self-righteous ideals. Why would the mafia be anything other than the mafia? They make everyone bleed to be part of this world, so how could I think she was any different?”

“Gunner,” I said hesitantly as I stood. “I’m gonna need you to calm down, man. You’re getting worked up which I understand, believe me, I understand. Talk to me, let me see if I can help. If you were forced into something, then maybe there’s another way we can handle things.”

He spun to face me, his eyes full of anger and self-loathing. “You don’t get it. I played right into their hands. They used me to hurt her, turn my back on her, and sell my soul to the devil, for what? Money? Ego? A feather to wear in my cap to tell Mother about? To prove to myself and others that I wasn’t the teacher’s pet who needed to be liked and always pushed for more and more respect? Astin was right… I should have left the house the night she told me to leave. It was me. I allowed her father to be shot. If I’d spoken up like she told me, I should’ve instead of believing Athos when he told me he’d take care of it, and then he might be alive. Astin doesn’t deserve more pain. She needs to be surrounded by people like you who aren’t weak.” Gunner spat out that last sentence then charged at me.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in him, I couldn’t get out of the way as he yanked my gun free of its holster. Not once did I think I had anything to fear from Gunner. While we’d all been trained to shoot and the basics of hand-to-hand combat, Gunner and Atticus had barely scraped by learning what they needed to. Which, at the time, none of us were worried about because there were four of us who could easily handle things, not to mention Astin herself. Now here I was once again on the deadly end of a gun with a person I knew holding it.

“Gunner, please,” I said softly, holding up my hands in surrender. “Think about what you’re doing. If you go through with this, it changes nothing, and it will hurt her even more.”

“No, I think that’s where you’re wrong,” Gunner stated. “I can’t undo what I did, and I know the punishment for my actions, so as my last act in life, I’ll do the right thing. She won’t have to endure having my blood on her hands. Tell her I’m sorry, and it was wrong for me to ever say she’s a monster. The real monster is me.”

Turning the gun on himself, his words clicked into place. “Stop!” I barked, lunging forward. “Gunner, no.”

I was too late.

The sound of my gun reverberated off the metal walls, making it so loud and intense that it sank into my bones, etching it into my memory. My hand wrapped around his wrist just as he started to crumple to the floor. Blood covered the walls and ceiling, a graphic confirmation that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Dropping to my knees next to him, my gun clattered to the floor, landing in a pool of blood, oddly fitting for the atrocity I’d just witnessed. Stunned, I just kneeled there numbly staring at Gunner’s face, which had a resigned expression.

How? How did it come to this? What kind of evil did we have living among us that would drive a person to feel the only atonement for their sin was to take their own life? The better question is, how many people had it gotten its claws into?

Chapter 23

Needing a break from reading file after file, I decided to test my skills with a pair of crutches. The doctor had said he wanted a week in the wheelchair since he was so worried about the artery in my leg. It’s been six days, so I feel like it’s good enough, and honestly, I wasn’t sure how well I’d do using these things. The last problem I needed was to fall and fuck up my leg again or damage something else.

Entering the kitchen, I found three people cooking up a storm, bustling every which way as they prepared food for tonight. I’d forgotten it was customary to have family dinner after the oaths were given to solidify the comradery between all members, new and old. One of the cooks spotted me and came to a screeching halt, almost causing another to crash into him with a pot of something boiling.

“For fuck’s sake, Bernard,” the woman roared. “Do you want to become part of tonight’s dinner? I could have boiled you alive with this soup.”

Bernard scuttled out of the way and headed in my direction. “Mistress Astin,” he greeted. “Can I assist you with something?”