Chapter Twenty-Five

Elena

We land in Sicily secretly, a touch over ten hours later in Palermo. Daylight hasn’t broken, and the air is still. I’m back on home turf, and as soon as my feet hit the tarmac on the private runway, a strength returns to me. This is my heartland, and I’m back in my comfort zone.

There’s a confidence in my stride, and I’m not walking alone this time. I’m walking with my husband, and ally, ready for war. Yegor has joined us on this trip, and despite our earlier hiccup, we are in sync, and he has my back.

All I can think about is the layout of the family home, and where Matteo sleeps. I know every nook and cranny of the house. He will be fast asleep. Matteo likes to sleep in until after nine, and then enjoy a coffee on the back terrace.

Returning to the clean air of Italy is a treat, and there’s a nostalgic feeling that washes over me as we head over to the private driver waiting for us on arrival. I reach inside my jacket, feeling around for my gun in its holster and touching a hand to my chest.

Normally I wouldn’t wear a bulletproof vest, but Nikk encouraged me to wear one. “L’vitsa, I know how fierce you are, but you don’t know how many Matteo has turned and are on his side. I want you safe. Please put this on. Oh, and try not to shoot Yegor again.”

The lighthearted moment was what I needed. Nikk and I do make a good team, and if it wasn’t such a serious situation and close to my heart, I would be having more fun with it. Not today, no—this is the day I defend the throne as I rightfully should.

“Please come through the back road of Via Imera,” I inform the driver as Nikk gives me the once-over.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes. You’ve seen the estate when we were here for the wedding. We will approach the gate as normal and take it from there. Nobody is expecting me, so that’s the only element of surprise that’s needed.”

“There’s nothing normal about this, Elena. We’re going to back you up,” Nikk proposes as I nod at him.

“I know you will.” As we travel the quiet country roads of Palmero, untapped memories of my father and the legacy he carried on, spring to mind, including Matteo. Oh, how the tables turn.

I take in the small townships as we pass, feeling a sense of peace, and it’s strange because it’s not what I should feel at all, but Sicily will always have a piece of my heart.

When we arrive at the gate of our sprawling family estate, I take note of the increase in guards. “More guards, this is going to be a problem,” Yegor states gruffly.

“Hold tight, Yegor. I am their Donna, and they’re going to let me in. This is my father’s house,” I say proudly, but I can sense the hostility in the air as the guards raises their guns.

“What’s your business here?” one of them asks, the muzzle of his gun, pointing inside the window of our vehicle.

“Our business is that I’m your Donna. I’m Elena Orlov.” The guard steps back, my pulse quickens as he speaks with the other guard, talking in Italian.

“This isn’t going to go well,” Yegor mutters under his breath as the guard returns, peering into our vehicle. There are six of us, and given how many guards are on ground, it may not be enough.

When he comes back, he makes his position clear. “You can’t come in here. You are Bratva now. We can’t let you in.”

“You will let me in! This is my family home,” I hiss at the guard who shakes his head as two other guards flock to the vehicle.

“You should let us in before trouble starts,” Nikk advises, raising his gun back at the guard. “This is her home, and she is still part of the Mancini household.”

I realize how Matteo has turned people against me in such a short period of time, and it’s going to take some work to get everyone back on side. Meanwhile, we don’t have time to argue with silly guard staff at the door.

Boldly, I open the car door, getting out. I’m not fearful of the guards, and part of that has to do with Nikk and his men providing back up. The guards are shocked, but I know the pin code to enter the gates. “You will let me in. I’m your Donna, not the other way around.”

“Hey, Vaffanculo! You can’t go in! You’re no longer welcome here.”

Nikk puts his men in position shielding me as I walk forward punching in the code, listening to the groan of the old gate opening.

The driver zooms inside the gate as I do a quick scan of how many other men are on ground. I count three of the roaches, pulling my gun and shooting before they have a chance to. There’s a long driveway to reach the house itself with beautiful gardens on either side.

With my adrenaline peaking and a guard running in hot pursuit, I take aim, shooting at his foot to warn him off as Nikk catches up, jogging beside me. My main objective is to get inside the house. I have the key, and unless Matteo has changed the locks, I’m sure it’s going to work.

“Are they gaining?” I pant, pushing forward as we run up a slight incline, getting closer to the house, slivers of light brightening the morning sky.

“No, my men are fighting with them, and it’s a good cover.” Yegor is out of shape, hanging at the back, but I know he’s a sharpshooter and part of the team. Where Nikk goes, Yegor does too, and truth be told I’ve grown fond of him. “C’mon, Yegor. Pick up the pace,” Nikk hisses as he sweats, but in no time we are on the porch.

“Shh,” I tell them both as Nikk covers my back, his body turned in the opposite direction to see where the men are coming from. Concentrating, I shine the light from my cell phone on the door, fumbling the old key around in the keyhole. The heavy oak door pops open as I kick it back, watching it swing on its hinges.

Matteo has to know I’m coming for him. There’s too much commotion from the guards, and all of it would have woken him up. Nikk shoves me behind him in one swoop.

“Let me cover you,” he says succinctly as I raise my gun, grateful for the shield as Yegor covers me from behind. Creeping forward in the shadows, all I can hear is the in and out of my heavy breathing. I keep my ears open for even the slightest movement.

Our footsteps are light over the peach-colored tile that runs up the middle of the house. To the first left is a study nook with a bay window, but we have more to contend with because I can hear the guards about to storm the estate.

A slick pool of sweat forms down my upper back, and now the bulletproof vest is itchy, but I keep my gun steady with a watchful eye. There’re pillars inside the house as well. It’s an old Italian’s blend of timber and stone. For such a big guy, Nikk is surprisingly light on his feet, and seeing him in action is sexy as hell.

Using my instincts, I stop when I hear a crackle from the left. Nodding my head to Nikk, I’ve got a split second to make a decision as Yegor feathers out from behind me, I don’t hesitate, knowing there’s a body there. I saw the bottom of the rug ripple.

“Fucker!” I spot the gun from behind the grand piano before he does with my eagle eye. The shot’s meant for him, probably so I have no back up from behind, but that’s not going to work out well for the shooter.

With a hard shove, I push Yegor to the left out of the bullet’s firing line, and sure enough it comes, whizzing right through the middle taking out a family heirloom vase instead, and it crashes to the ground. Reactively, I squeeze off a round, followed by Nikk, watching the shadow of a rat dodge the bullet and running in a crouched position through a passageway door at the back of the study into the next room.

“Was it him? I didn’t get a good look,” Nikk asks. “Nice work, L’vitsa,” he praises with a wink.

“Is has to be,” I whisper as we jog forward away from the front door where more trouble is on the way.

“Thanks, Elena, that makes up for you shooting me,” Yegor jokes as I flash him a quick smile. The next part of the house is the open plan kitchen and dining room, and there’s so many windows that if Matteo tries to hide, he won’t be able to stay hidden. There’s too much light, and the sun is showing itself over the hillside of Palermo.

The crunch of footsteps behind us grabs Yegor’s attention as he turns to shoot but stops when he realizes it’s our men. “Are they all dead?”

“No, not all of them, but we had to shoot a few. Sorry, Donna,” Turan, who I recognize, says, screwing up his face.

He called me Donna. Finally, Nikk’s crew are beginning to respect me. “That’s okay. If they wouldn’t listen to you, then you did what you had to do,” I reply. “Handle things on the ground floor,” I tell him. “We’re going after Matteo.”

“Done. We got it,” Turan replies as two others flank him, spreading out in opposite directions. I have to trust them to do their jobs. Nikk studies me for a quick second and I nod, flagging a finger to the left, where the dining room is. It’s a large room, and behind it is the kitchen, where a door leads to the outside. All the bedrooms are upstairs, and once we have to ascend the stairs, it’s going to be hard to find him.

Hearing his scampering feet, I get a better glimpse of him as he moves from behind the kitchen island. He’s no match for Nikk whether it be as a shooter or as a fighter.

“Give up, Matteo. Come out. We’re going to get to you,” I warn him, hearing him heave as he scoots from behind the island. Nikk lunges to grab part of his shirt but misses by an inch, grabbing at the air instead. From behind, I step out from the marble bench, pointing my gun at him from the back. Nikk blocks off the other end. He has nowhere to go at this point.

Like a wild animal, he crouches, his mouth open, deciding his options. “You should listen to my wife. You have nowhere to run, and even if you do, I’m going to catch you.

Sweat pours off Matteo as he starts to laugh hysterically. He stands up, gun in hand.

“Go on,” he goads, globules of spit coming out of his mouth. “Do it. Kill me,” he taunts, but Nikk shakes his head.

“No. That would be too easy, my friend. I have something special for you.” And in the blink of an eye, the rest of Nikk’s men come to join us in the kitchen.

Matteo’s shoulder’s slump, his chest heaving from running and sweat trickling down his brow as the sun rises in the kitchen. It’s a brand-new day, and as I look at him in his disheveled state, it’s vomit inducing, and the man I once looked up to is nothing but a shell of his former self.

“You are a disgrace to the Mancini clan. We gave you everything! You were one of us,” I tell him evenly, alarmed at my own composure.

Matteo hangs his head as I quickly lunge forward, snatching the gun out of his hand.

“Elena, you might want to leave for this next part. I don’t think you’re going to want to watch this,” Nikk says, his mouth breaking into a generous smile.

Tilting my head at him, I hear them speak in Russian as one of them jogs to the outside, while Yegor ties up Matteo in one of the dining chairs, placing him close to the window, near the sunlight.

“No, why wouldn’t I want to watch?”

“You’ll see.” He winks, but it can’t be that bad. I’ve seen my father break a man’s arm. Can’t be worse than that, can it?

But when the men arrive back with two steel buckets and the sound of screaming rats inside them, my eyes open wide like saucers.

Puzzled, I don’t know what they’re going to do. I come to recognize Nikk’s cruelty is beyond my imagination as Matteo wriggles in horror.

“No! Please just kill me. Don’t do this.”

Nikk’s hollow laugh rings out as he grabs both sides of Matteo’s face. “No. You’re going to suffer, and after what you did to my wife, you deserve all the pain I’m about to bless you with. Death is your keeper now. Besides, a rat for a rat seems about right to me. What do you think, boys?”

They snicker, nodding their heads in agreement.

Matteo yelps as two of the men hold the bucket with gloves on, against his bare stomach, lighting a blowtorch against the bottom of the steel pail. I can see the depraved excitement in Nikk’s eyes as the bucket grows hotter.

Clapping a hand over my mouth, I understand how it’s going to end. The rats will have nowhere to run, instead they’ll burrow into Matteo’s stomach as a way to escape being burned to death.

Matteo’s bloodcurdling screams ring out through the house, and my heart pounds, telling me I shouldn’t be watching this, but my feet have other ideas, staying rooted to the spot.

They are going to tear him to shreds. Then Nikk is probably going to shoot him in the head.

Eventually, when I can get my feet to move, I head to the next room, but I hear the high-pitched screams from Matteo as they send him to his grave in the worst possible way. True to his word, Nikk kept his promise.

A couple of hours later, there’s no sound from the other room. Matteo has to be dead. And one by one, all the remaining guards and staff from the house come to gather around me in the lounge room, pledging they’re allegiance to me as the Donna of the Mancini famiglia.

“This is an example of what happens when you defy me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, we understand,” they all recite in unison, and today as the sun rises over the rugged hills of Sicily and with Nikk standing beside me, we are victorious. No more dirty rats in our camp.