Chapter Twenty-Five

When I got off the private jet that evening and turned on my phone, the number of missed calls from Marcella, Dad, and even Matteo was staggering. Maximus hadn’t tried to call again. I’d given him a promise and he knew I’d keep it. When I tried to call him, only his voicemail answered. I called Primo instead. For a while he’d been working under Cassio in Philadelphia but had recently returned to work at Maximus’ side as Enforcer. “Where’s Maximus?”

“He’s on his way to a warehouse in Newark.”

No news. It was why I’d asked the pilot to land in Newark. I didn’t want to waste any time.

“He’s alone?”

“I think Romero might be with him. I hope so. Dad and I are on the way there too. Maximus didn’t want to wait. You know how eager for revenge he is. Your father and a few more men are heading there now too.”

“Okay. Send me the exact address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I jogged to the parking lot of the rental car service. One of the staff tossed me the keys to the motorcycle I’d rented via a phone-call. I nodded my thanks. He was a loyal cocaine customer and would get a special price for his next order.

The warehouse address wasn’t far from the airport and with my bike I could weave through traffic, so I arrived at the designated spot within ten minutes. I spotted Maximus’ car, an old Ford truck he mainly used to transport stuff for the sanctuary or bodies. I dismounted my bike, pulled my gun and hurried over to the car, but Maximus wasn’t inside. I began to search the area, hoping Maximus hadn’t been crazy enough to go in alone. Maybe Primo’s assumption was right and Romero had joined Maximus. He had every reason to be part of this after all.

Maximus had said the informant had spoken about at least three Russians inside the building. He was a good shot, but he was fueled by anger and that was never a good thing. I rounded the building and found Growl and Primo beside one of the steel doors, trying to get in.

“Why didn’t he wait for you?”

“He tricked us,” Primo murmured. “We wanted to scout the area first and make sure the informant didn’t lead us into a trap, but Maximus didn’t want to wait.”

I shook my head. Growl finally managed to open the door. I took the lead and went into the dim inside of the warehouse with Primo and Growl close behind. This was a small warehouse for the Bratva, which made it a target, but that wasn’t why Maximus was here of course.

Voices drifted over to us and I motioned Growl and Primo to duck behind the wooden crates. With our heads lowered, we moved closer to the voices. I tensed when I spotted two tall forms behind one of the crates, then relaxed when I recognized Maximus and his father-in-law Romero. They pointed their guns at us then lowered them. I knelt beside them and Romero pointed at a gap between the crates while Maximus had his gaze firmly locked on the scene in front of him. I looked through the gap.

Three men were playing a game of cards at a table and drawing lines of their own stuff. My lips curled. A Famiglia soldier who sniffed our stuff would be punished harshly. You couldn’t be your own best customer if you wanted to run a successful business.

“The one without hair and the one with the big wart over his lip, those are two of the men who got us.” I could hear pain beneath the rage in Maximus’ voice. I had to admit I was relieved Maximus had taken Romero with him. If he’d gone here alone, he would definitely have done something stupid. I rarely felt guilty but I really hated that I’d been too far away to be by Maximus’ side the moment he needed me.

I touched his shoulder. “Wart guy is the leader of the lot?”

Maximus nodded. “He’s a low soldier high on the limited power he has over only slightly less stupid soldiers.”

“I’ll go ahead and you watch my back?”

“This is my fight, Amo. I waited but I want their blood.”

I patted his shoulder and nodded. Then I motioned him to go ahead.

“Don’t kill them.” His eyes burned with hunger for revenge. “I want to take my time.”

“We both do,” Romero said. I slanted him a look and nodded. In recent years Romero’s work as Captain had been less violent than that of Maximus, but I could feel his need for bloodshed.

On a sign from Maximus, all five of us jumped out of our hiding place. The Russians hadn’t expected an attack and they were high on cocaine, which made our job easy. I managed to tackle the guy without hair to the ground while Maximus got the one with the wart. Romero took care of the third while Growl and Primo kept watch over our surroundings in case there were more Bratva soldiers we didn’t know about.

The door burst open. I hit the guy in my hold over the head with my gun then pointed it at the intruders but lowered it when Dad and a few soldiers stalked in.

I got to my feet. Dad barely glanced my way as he went over to Growl and talked to him before he moved on to Romero who’d managed to tie up the Russian with cable straps.

“I want to take them over to our sanctuary,” Maximus said.

“You need to question them. I realize this is very personal, for both of you.” Dad’s gaze moved from Maximus to Romero. “But we need all the information out of them.”

“They’ll sing like canaries,” Growl said in his deep, growly voice.

Dad gave a harsh smile. “I trust in all of your abilities.”

Since Dad was content ignoring me for the moment, I went over to Maximus. “Do you want me to help you torture them?”

Maximus shook his head. “Romero and I should do it.” Romero glanced toward him and nodded.

“All right. Call me whenever you need me. To talk, get drunk or dance the adrenaline away. I’ll be there.”

Maximus gripped my hand. “Why don’t you come with us? I’d like you there even if you’re not part of the torture.”

“First I need a word with you,” Dad said to me.

“I’ll come as soon as we’re done.”

Maximus and the others carried the three Russians out while Dad’s soldiers rummaged in the crates to take stock of what was in the warehouse.

“Come on. Let’s go somewhere else.” Dad didn’t wait for me to agree. He turned and expected me to follow. I could tell how pissed he was. Considering I hadn’t answered his last seven calls I knew why. I followed Dad out to his car. He looked around and finally his eyes settled on the rental motorcycle. His eyes narrowed. “Where’s one of your bikes? Or car? Since when do you need a rental?”

“Is this what you want to discuss?”

Dad got in my face. “A few calls and I’ll know where that rental car is from and a few more calls and I’ll know exactly where you’ve been.”

I had always known my deceit would eventually be discovered. I was fairly sure Dad could have found out a long time ago but he’d chosen to ignore what was right before him. “I need a rental because I’m cheating on my wife with a prominent politician’s wife, and I don’t want the news to spread.”

I wasn’t sure if Dad believed me. Probably not. I almost wished he’d find out everything. All this secrecy was starting to bother me. I didn’t want to meet Greta in secret. I wanted to scream my feelings for her from the fucking rooftops. I wanted Cressida out of my life and Greta in it.

Dad’s expression lost a hint of the harshness, which caught me by surprise. “I know you hate being married to Cressida, but you can’t disappear for hours or days without a fucking trace. You have responsibility.”

“I work my ass off for the Famiglia, Dad. I’ve given my life to the cause. Fuck I married a woman I despise with all my heart for the cause, so don’t tell me I’m not doing enough. When your job for the Famiglia is done you return to Mom, not an empty apartment or a townhouse with a woman that you can’t trust. You get your fucking reprieve, so I won’t fucking apologize for trying to get my mind off things once or twice a month for a day or two.”

“You’re not working a nine to five job. Your duty is never over. We’re at war. You still remember, do you?”

I smirked. “Trust me, Dad, that’s something I’ll never forget. That’s something you forced upon me as well. I was against the attack!”

Dad gripped my shirt. “You know fucking well why I did it. You left me no choice! It was the only way to make sure you wouldn’t keep pining for that girl.”

I nodded and took a step back, so Dad had to drop his hand. “Good job.”

Dad searched my eyes and his face became a mask of wariness. “Amo. Do you really want to die?”

“Would you die for Mom?”

Dad closed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done right away.”

I didn’t give Dad a chance to say more. I mounted the bike and drove away. Tonight was about Maximus, nothing else. But tomorrow, I’d take my life into my own hands. And if anyone wanted to stop me, they’d find out what those hands were capable of.

Fuck. What was I going to do?

I felt torn, between my loyalty for my family and my feelings for Amo. Eventually it would tear me apart. I couldn’t carry the weight of my betrayal alone anymore. I needed to confide in someone. I needed another view, some insights that might help me decide how to go on. How to keep living this divided life.

When I returned home from my sanctuary on Sunday, I found Mom doing aerial yoga in the yoga room she’d set up in our wing of the mansion. She was hanging head down in the colorful cloths that were attached to the ceiling.

I sometimes practiced yoga with Mom, but I did it less for the mental aspects and more for the stretching that had a positive effect on my ballet skills.

Mom smiled at me, despite her red head and slowly brought herself into an upright position. “Do you want to join me?”

“I need to talk.”

Immediately, Mom’s expression clouded with worry and she lowered herself to the floor. She grabbed a towel from her matt and wiped her face, then she motioned at the low sofa in the corner. We sank down and Mom touched my shoulder. “You can tell me anything, Greta. Absolutely anything. I can keep a secret.”

“Even from Dad?”

Asking the question made me feel guilty but Mom needed to know the severity of the situation and not stumble into it blindly.

“For you I’d keep a thousand secrets even from your father.” She touched my cheek, her eyes soft. “But your father loves you and our family more than anything else. He would forgive anything.”

“Not this. Too much is at stake.”

Mom swallowed, her pale brows drawing together. “Okay. Now you got me really worried.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“The start is always a good point.”

That was something Nino might say. I loved how we all rubbed off on each other. I loved so much about this family, which was why this deceit felt like a boulder on my heart. I decided not to beat around the bush. There was no easy way to say what needed to be said. “I have an affair with Amo.”

Mom sank back against the cushions, her mouth falling open. She looked away and let out a deep breath. “Oh wow. I didn’t expect that.” I could see how hard she fought for composure. She swallowed hard before she turned back to me and regarded me. Her eyes scanned every inch of my face. Maybe she was looking for the daughter she thought she knew. She let out a stunned laugh. “You really went in for the kill.”

I frowned, not sure what she meant by that. I’d never meant for this war to happen, never meant for people to die.

“You didn’t sugarcoat things,” she said as if she could see my confusion. She took another deep breath. She stood and blew out a long breath.

“Mom?”

“Just give me a moment, Greta. This is a bit more than I expected.”

“I told you it was something Dad would never forgive.”

Mom gave a one shoulder shrug. “He’d forgive you, of course. But his actions regarding the Vitiellos might not be considered forgiving.”

“He’ll kill Amo.”

“He wanted to kill him for various reasons before this. I fear death won’t be enough in your father’s eyes in this case.”

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. Despair clawed at my chest.

The sofa dipped and Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet. But it’s going to be okay.” Mom stroked my head as if I still were a small child. “How long has this been going on?”

“Five months.”

“I noticed that you changed but I didn’t want to pressure you into talking to me. I knew you’d come when you felt ready.”

I pulled back. “I feel lost. I don’t know what to do.”

“Would you consider stopping what’s between you and Amo—” She shook her head. “I can see in your eyes that that’s not an option, right?”

“I can’t imagine living my life without him. Whenever we’re apart, I miss him so much. I wish we could be together all the time.”

“What about him? He’s married.”

“He doesn’t love her and he assures me she doesn’t love him either.”

“I believe that’s true. I know how arranged marriages work, and love is rarely part of the deal but the Famiglia is traditional and divorce isn’t something that’s accepted. I don’t know of any Capo or even Underboss who went through a divorce.”

“I know. I don’t see a way for us to be together, but I can’t imagine to never see him again either. I hate going behind everyone’s back. I hate the lies, I hate the hurt that the secrecy might cause. I hate that Amo cheats on his wife, even if she knows about it. I want things to be easy for us.”

“Love’s rarely easy or uncomplicated. It wasn’t for your father and me, not by far. I never told you the full truth about Dad and me. But I think it would help you feel better. Your father kidnapped me on my wedding day.”

I nodded. Nevio had once made a strange comment when we were fifteen and I had immediately started my research. It hadn’t taken me long to find newspaper articles about a kidnapped bride, my mother. She was supposed to marry another man that day. Mom smiled strangely. “Of course you found out. I guess I should have told you sooner.” She sighed. “Why I’m telling you now is that some might consider my actions as cheating. I was promised to someone but I was intimate with your father. I didn’t have feelings for the man I was supposed to marry, and neither had he.”

“But you returned to your family despite your feelings for Dad. How did they react?”

“They didn’t know I had feelings for Dad. For them it was incomprehensible. Your father was the enemy. He’d kidnapped me after all.”

“Do you think it would have changed things if you’d convinced them of your love for Dad? Would there have been peace between the Camorra and Outfit? Your marriage could have united what was divided.”

Mom laughed bitterly. “Oh no. That was never an option. There was too much bad blood between the Camorra and the Outfit. And my family would have never accepted my love for your father. I had tried to explain things to them, not as outright as I should have, but I tried in my own way. Your father’s actions were unforgivable in their eyes.”

“Isn’t it the same with me and Amo? There’s war.”

“It’s different. There isn’t as much personal hurt involved. But I won’t lie, it would be a miracle if Luca and your father made peace. If Amo weren’t married, there would be more options but a divorce would cause a major rip within the Famiglia. If Luca isn’t willing to face the backlash, I doubt he’ll allow Amo to leave Cressida.”

I’d thought about all this a million times. Maybe Dad would accept Amo into the Camorra if I begged him, but Amo would never take orders from Dad or Nevio.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered.

Mom seemed at a loss too. “I wish I knew. Maybe you should think about talking to your father.”

“If he knows, he’ll stop me from seeing Amo. I can’t risk that.”

“That’s a possibility. He might not listen to me either in this case.” Mom brushed her fingertips across her temple as if she had a headache. “I want nothing more than to see you happy. But I also want you to be safe. You meeting Amo behind everyone’s back is a risk.”

“Amo won’t hurt me, Mom. I trust him absolutely.”

Mom pressed her lips together in a tight smile.

I shrugged. “And you thought Nevio was the only trouble maker.”

Mom laughed. “Nevio is causing havoc for every reason but love.”

“The end result is the same. Love can be as destructive as hatred.”