CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
REVENGE
I weaved towards the back of the house. It was like a sinister treasure hunt: follow the desperate wails. But Nic and Luca were both faster than me and I didn’t know the layout of the mansion. Luca caught me halfway through the kitchen. He circled me, blocking my way through.
Behind him, the kitchen continued through an archway, widening into a glass conservatory that jutted on to the garden patio. Felice’s beehives dotted the lawns beyond. I could see movement – people – and when the next scream rang out it felt unbearably close.
‘Move,’ I said.
Luca started to push me backwards. ‘This isn’t your concern, Sophie.’
Sara screamed again.
I gritted my teeth. ‘I said move.’
‘What exactly are you planning to do?’ asked Luca, playing for time, moving to the side slightly so that my view was blocked. ‘You know you can’t get involved in family business.’
‘I’ll call the police, Luca. Don’t think I won’t.’
He grimaced. ‘You know where that would get you.’
I did know. In the ground. ‘How could you let this happen again?’
Nic took a step towards me, blocking out Luca. He was obviously going to try and reason with me. He made his voice go soft, a whisper of intimacy, a moment shared between us. ‘Sophie, you both need to get back to safety and forget about all this. We should have brought you somewhere else, I know that now, but it’s too late to change it.’
His eyes were dark like molten chocolate. Lips, slightly parted, breathed warm air into the space between us. Nic had gotten the Eden card from me by acting like this. Two could play that game.
I looked at my feet, biting my lip in false reflection. ‘I don’t know …’ I murmured.
His shoulders dipped and he relaxed his stance. I pivoted around him, shooting for the double doors. I skidded into the conservatory. Outside, a sensor light was bathing the garden in harsh white light. I was just close enough to catch a glimpse of Sara Marino’s purple hair when she screamed again.
In a millisecond, everything fell into place. There was a whole fleet of Falcones. I recognized Dom, Gino and Elena, but there were others – women with long, dark hair, polished men in suits, young teenagers, and even an old man bent over a walking stick.
Valentino was seated in the middle, his head tilted at the scene, his fingers steepled in front of him. On the grass, Sara was on her knees. Her hands were bound behind her back. Her head was lolling forwards, a stream of blood falling from her lips.
CJ was standing on one side of her; Felice was on the other. They were like chaperones, but there was nothing protective about their behaviour. Felice had a gun in his hand and he was brandishing it above her head. He was gesticulating at his rapt audience, his lips curving into his cartoon smile. This was his theatre, and she was his show.
I reached the glass door and my fingers curled around the handle. I pulled it and it swung open with a soft whoosh. Luca flung his arm around my waist and clamped his other hand against my mouth as he pulled me against him. We froze like that, half-in, half-out of the Falcone mansion.
He brought his lips close to my ear. ‘Don’t say a word.’
His breath shivered all the way down my spine.
Felice was speaking. ‘For Calvino, our fallen brother, and for everything he stood for … justice, honour, morality … we will have vengeance. We will make Donata Marino suffer as we have suffered.’ He brought the butt of the gun down and smacked it across Sara’s face. It knocked her sideways and she stayed that way, whimpering into the grass.
Luca’s hand stifled my reaction. He was trying to drag me backwards, but I was writhing against him. ‘Let me handle this,’ he urged. ‘You’ll only make it worse.’
Felice handed the gun to CJ, but when he spoke, it was to the line of Falcones watching him. ‘My boy, it is time for you to avenge your father. You must step up now and become the man he raised you to be.’ He peeled his lips back, his teeth glistening like fangs in the moonlight. ‘And what better way to begin than like this? After all, l’uccisione è personale.’
Dom was actually clapping. Somewhere down the line, a girl hollered her approval. The others stood in silence, waiting for Calvino Junior to do something.
I was being hoisted away from the scene. I tried to catch Millie’s eye. She was free to act; free to do something. But she was statue-like and bug-eyed as she watched the garden scene unfold. Her skin had taken on a distinct green hue, and it looked like there was a very real chance she would keel over.
Come on, Mil. Snap out of it.
In the garden, CJ was holding the gun limply in his hand. He looked around him, as if searching for something in the family. No one came forward. No one told him to go upstairs and grieve with his little brothers. They just stood there, waiting. This was his test, and he had to pass it.
Sara’s cries spluttered into the earth, her fingers fisted in the grass. She was too weak to stand, too frightened to turn her face towards the Falcones.
I was still grappling with Luca. I tried to bite his hand but I couldn’t get the right angle. Licking it wouldn’t do any good. We weren’t in middle school.
‘Come on!’ said Felice, gripping CJ by the shoulders. He pressed the heel of his shoe against Sara’s side and pushed. She faltered, swaying to the side. ‘I was just a few years older than you when I made my first kill,’ said Felice to CJ, but it was loud enough so everyone could hear him, so everyone could bask in his glory. ‘Two kills,’ he corrected himself. ‘I wiped out the Marino boss and his whimpering wife with just two bullets. And now here we are, in another generation with the truce broken once more and another Marino cowering at our feet. You can do as I did, and cripple that insidious family, take the boss’s jewel from her arsenal.’ He raised his gaze to the crowd, a lazy smile flitting across his face. ‘Poetic, is it not?’
CJ, who had been looking up at Felice with wide, unblinking eyes, snapped his head back into place. Something seemed to click inside him. He got down on his knees and leant over the girl. His mouth twisted, cruel and biting, and I saw shades of Felice in him – a whisper of the man he would become if he did what was expected of him tonight. CJ raised the gun high above him, like he was going to shoot at the sky. And just as Luca managed to swing me around, away from the scene, he brought the gun down hard. There was a crack, and this time Sara’s scream was a raw, animalistic screech.
‘Bel lavoro!’ shouted someone.
‘For Calvino!’
‘Tale padre tale figlio!’
Felice’s voice rang out. ‘We have only just begun.’
My tears were falling over Luca’s hand. He was half carrying me from the room. There were more whoops coming from the garden. They would kill her, right there in their self-made amphitheatre.
I had to do something.
I made myself go limp. My legs dragged along the floor and I flopped over Luca’s arm like a rag doll. We dipped towards the ground together.
‘Sophie?’ He tried to hoist me up.
I didn’t budge. My fingers were brushing against the floor and my legs were bent outwards from each other. In that moment, Luca made two crucial errors. He made the mistake of believing me, and he propped me against a chair.
I leapt from the chair, slid across the conservatory floor and screamed at the top of my lungs.
Everyone in the garden turned around. There was a sudden cacophony of muttering. Sara was lying on the grass, one cheek facing the sky, her face so badly swollen I could barely make out her eyes. CJ was standing again, the gun dangling by his side. He was glaring at me.
Felice stepped off the grass and stalked towards me. Valentino turned around. His icy gaze bored holes in me. Whatever bravery had just coursed through me was spent. I clamped my fists together so the Falcones wouldn’t see them shake.
Luca came to stand in front of me and raised his hands to Valentino. ‘Sorry, brother,’ he said. ‘I’m taking them home. She got lost.’
Luca made to pull me away again, but I stalled. Trouble or no trouble, I had come this far and I still wasn’t dead. I shoved him out of my way so we could stand side by side at the entrance. I pointed at Sara. ‘I’ve come down here to get her. We’re all going home together.’
Sara heaved her head up, and I saw her eyes grow wide above her swollen cheeks. She didn’t speak – she couldn’t – but I could read the desperation in her eyes, I could feel it in the fear that pulsed between us as we stared at one another.
Help me.
I will.
Felice broke the stunned silence. He threw his head back at the sky and released a laugh, the sound forcing itself from his throat like he was choking. He made a show of wiping the tears from under his eyes; even in his manic amusement I could feel his grief as though it was gripping me by the throat. ‘This girl has a death wish, Valentino. She seems to constantly exhibit this unyielding desire to be killed.’
‘Maybe we should grant it, then,’ said Elena. ‘Since she keeps getting in the way.’
I could feel Nic behind me, bristling. He moved around us and stepped into the garden to where his mother was standing with her arms folded. ‘We’re going,’ he told her. ‘Don’t say things like that. She’s not going to be a problem for us.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Oh, Nicoli,’ she said. ‘Sei un pazzo in amore.’
Felice tutted. ‘Our Nicoli, I truly thought you had a better handle on your affairs. You’re so much more … effective when she’s not around. Look at you now, standing on the periphery of something you should be directing. Your cousin needs you. Show him how to use the gun. Show him the pretty tricks you can do.’
‘Basta!’ Valentino raised his hand in the air. ‘This is not a situation any of us should be making light of, Felice. I’d caution you, once again, to remember your place in this family.’
The mood was souring, and fast, the sharp edge of the Falcones’ collective grief cutting into the air.
‘You mean my place in this nursery you’re running? This is, yet again, another juvenile matter that has been ill-handled. You are like young volcanoes – constantly erupting with these ludicrous emotions. When was the last time an Americano got free rein to run around this house? Giammai!’
Valentino’s voice fell deadly quiet. ‘And what concern is that of yours?’
Felice was nonplussed. ‘I show concern in matters that undermine the status of this family, nephew.’
There was a collective intake of breath.
Valentino bared his teeth. It seemed for a moment like he was going to launch himself at Felice and tear his throat out.
A man with thick, jet-black hair stepped out of line. He was tall and broad, but moved with a strange fluidity, almost like a dancer. He was the perfect mixture of Angelo and Felice – lithe and narrow, with warm, dark eyes. ‘Felice, remember to whom you’re speaking. You should amend your tone accordingly.’
‘And your words,’ added Dom.
Felice addressed the tall man with venom. ‘I don’t need your caution, Paulie. I remember. He’s our brother’s child.’
‘He’s your boss,’ said Luca, forgetting about me and stepping into the garden to join the others. He stopped beside Valentino. It was a telling show of solidarity: the underboss and the boss, side by side, united against the consigliere. Cracks, I realized. They’re everywhere. No wonder Felice’s wife had run a mile. ‘You would do well to remember the Falcone order, Felice.’
Felice’s smile was mirthless. ‘How could I ever forget? Angelo’s decision to—’
‘Enough.’ Valentino cut him off. ‘You’ve displayed enough theatrics for one night.’
‘You insult me,’ said Felice, turning dangerously quiet. ‘I have lost my brother tonight. Avenging his death should not be considered a display of theatrics.’
Valentino’s tone was cutting. ‘We will speak later, in private, when you don’t have your audience.’
A ripple of unease travelled through the waiting Falcones. There was a sudden chill in our midst and instead of mistrustful eyes being trained on me, they were directed inwards, at each other.
Sara Marino and CJ were forgotten on the grass. Now the attention was deflected from him, CJ didn’t seem interested in the girl or the gun. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.
‘Enough of this,’ said Elena, coming to stand beside Luca and Valentino. They were cut from her cloth – the same bright blue eyes and high cheekbones – none of that golden warmth Nic had inherited from his father. ‘Sort this nonsense out, we have our vengeance to exact tonight.’
Murmurs of agreement swept through the garden.
‘You can’t kill your sister’s child.’
For a second I thought the words were mine; that they had sprung from my brain just as I had begun to conjure them. I might have convinced myself, if it wasn’t for the faint British accent with which they were said. Millie came to my side and laced her fingers through mine. I could feel them shaking. ‘Let her come with us.’
Elena’s composure imploded. ‘Enough, son! You must do something about them. The Gracewell girl, surely. The level of—’
It was Paulie who cut her off. ‘Elena, you know this girl saved your son’s life. Let us not spill more blood than is necessary tonight. It was not Angelo’s way.’
There it was. My bargaining chip. ‘You owe me a life, Valentino,’ I called out, squashing my internal freak-out. I gestured at Sara. ‘Her life for Luca’s in the warehouse. Let her go.’
Valentino raised his brows, surprise twisting on his lips. ‘That’s not really how this works.’
‘This is turning into a circus!’ Felice had retrieved his gun from CJ and was standing on the grass again, tapping his foot. ‘Let the boy shoot the Marino girl and be done with it.’
‘No!’ Millie and I both shouted. Millie had her phone in her hand now. It didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the Falcones. Even if they got to her before she could speak to an operator, a 911 hang-up was enough. Her plan was a lot braver than mine, but I wasn’t convinced it was a smarter one.
Paulie started towards us and we stumbled back into the house.
Nic edged closer. ‘Millie, don’t.’
She lifted the phone to her ear. ‘I’ll do it if you don’t let that girl go.’
‘You also know you’ll regret it.’ His words were underpinned by the terrible truth. If she broke omertà, she would forfeit her life, or that of someone close to her.
Nic stopped at the doorway. Paulie stood next to him, while the others peered through the glass. It was OPERATION: DISARM THE GIRLS.
‘The girl is not going to die,’ said Paulie.
‘You’re lying.’
He raised his hands in supplication. ‘Valentino is sending a message to the Marinos. He won’t kill Sara. They are cousins, you know. Felice just gets carried away – he’s grieving. He has given you an exaggerated impression of what’s going on here.’
‘I know he wants CJ to kill her,’ I said. ‘I know the truce was broken. But I also know that killing Sara Marino is only going to make this entire situation worse. She’s innocent, and everyone in this garden knows it.’
There wasn’t a single murmur of disagreement at that, but uneasy gazes travelled inwards, shoes now shuffling against the grass and frowns rippling through the crowd of Falcones.
Paulie’s expression was serene. ‘You and I both know that what happens to Sara is not Felice’s decision. Valentino measures his decisions. Felice exaggerates.’
‘Has he exaggerated her injuries too?’
‘They’re superficial.’ There was something soothing about Paulie’s manner, too. It was in the way he talked. I found myself wanting to believe him. ‘She won’t come to any harm.’
‘She’s already been harmed,’ said Millie. She was still clutching her phone, and the Falcones were all staring at it like it was a bomb.
I looked into the garden. Valentino’s face had settled into that veil of careful impassivity. ‘I give you my word,’ he said. ‘If you leave now and promise not to alert the authorities, we’ll release Sara. A life for a life.’
‘How do we know that?’ asked Millie.
‘You’ll just have to trust me.’
‘We have nothing to base that trust on.’
A mirthless smile lifted his mouth from its hard line. ‘Millie, you and I are having this conversation in front of a fleet of assassins who would end your life right now if I asked them to. There would be no witnesses and your bodies would never be found.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Base your trust on that.’
‘Send her home with us, then,’ said Millie.
‘We can’t send her with you. She has to be escorted to Donata’s people with a Falcone emissary. We are entering into strict negotiations.’
‘Of the warehouse variety?’ I asked.
Valentino pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘No, not of the warehouse variety. Of the Sicilian negotiation variety.’
A part of me knew what those negotiations might be. They had someone the Marinos wanted, and the Marinos had someone the Falcones wanted. Jack. But I couldn’t think about my uncle now – he knew the stakes, he had made his bed. My immediate concern was Sara, making sure she was safe, making sure she had a chance to live the life she dreamt of, to find the hint of freedom she had envied in me.
Millie and I glanced at each other. How could we know for sure, if they weren’t prepared to guarantee her release to us? What did it even matter? We didn’t have a bargaining position. We had a phone with six per cent battery, the flighty affections of Nic and the passing gratitude of Luca for saving his life once. The others could kill us if they wanted to. We were already pushing our luck.
‘Don’t get involved in this, girls,’ said Paulie. He had the largest eyes I had ever seen. ‘It’s not your fight. This is not your world.’
Luca was on the grass now. He picked Sara up, sliding his arms underneath her elbows. She got to her feet, wobbling. He brushed the matted hair from her face and started speaking to her. She was crying. He held her against his side and brought her away from the others.
I turned to Nic. ‘Are they telling the truth, Nic? Will they let her go?’
He closed the distance between us and took my hand, right there in front of his entire family and his horrible mother, and squeezed it. I was so stunned I let him. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Valentino will let her go.’
I could see only him then – the golden flecks inside his eyes, the quiet sureness in the quirk of his mouth, all that warmth he exuded. ‘Let me get you out of here,’ he said. ‘Let me take you home.’
Millie lowered her phone. It dangled by her side, a weapon re-holstered. She shrugged, even her smallest movements showing her exhaustion. ‘I think I believe them, Soph. I believe Nic.’
Outside, Luca had started to untie Sara’s hands. Luca would take care of her. Luca would set her free just as he had done for me when I’d been kidnapped.
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘So do I.’