5. Chapter 5

5

" R eady, love?" Melisande slid into the second row of the black SUV Galen had sent to pick them up from the airport. Her husband, Stefano, finished handing the driver their luggage and slid in beside her.

The SUV was clearly marked on the front and back bumpers with the MacGregor family insignia, a modern variation on the Scottish coat of arms featuring a sleek, powerful black lion with a crown in the background. The logo indicated to all rival families that this vehicle was off-limits. In other words, they were protected under the MacGregor name.

She sighed with relief as the SUV pulled into the light evening traffic. It was good to be back in Scotland.

Melisande was born and raised in a middle-class neighborhood of Edinburgh. She and her two older sisters had led typical, middle-class lives: worrying about what to wear to school, discussing with their friends which boys were cute that particular week, and aiming for good grades in school.

Then she met Stefano Carosi, the charming, handsome, Italian-American from Chicago. He was visiting his best friend from college, Galen MacGregor, who also lived in Edinburgh.

Melisande was too practical to believe in love at first sight; a ridiculous notion, she always thought. Until Stefano proved her wrong and swept her off her feet, along with many of her other beliefs. All her life plans suddenly upended themselves, and she found herself moving to Chicago, getting married, and settling in as the wife of a crime family boss and mother to the heir.

It was nothing like she had expected it to be, but she loved all of it: the obvious benefits of luxury, the close-knit extended family, and even the inherent undercurrent of danger that weaved through every aspect of their lives.

The SUV made its way toward Galen's mansion as she gazed out the window at her beloved Edinburgh. It had been two years since she'd been home—her original home—and the city was both familiar and not. There were familiar sights, but they no longer felt personal. Every time she came back it felt less personal, like the Scottish part of her was fading away.

But rather than feel nostalgia over the past, she embraced the American part of her and counted herself fortunate to have a husband she was still in love with, a daughter she was proud of, a loud, large extended family that supported each other, and a comfortable—let's be honest: a very comfortable—life.

But a long flight could be a trying experience for even the most unflappable person. Melisande rubbed her temples to soothe the blooming headache.

"First thing I'm going to do is take a long, hot bath," she grumbled.

Stefano smoothed his hand over her back. "Maybe I'll join you."

She turned her head sharply, then laughed at the twinkle in his eyes. She leaned toward his ear and whispered, "I'll keep it warm for you."

His eyes heated, and he pressed a kiss to her mouth. She felt her heartbeat quicken. Even after all these years, they knew how to keep the fire smoldering.

A ping sounded on her phone. "Hold that thought," she said to her husband, and she reached for her phone. "Let me check on Ilaria." Stefano pulled her back into his side after she retrieved it.

Melisande: Honey, your father and I just landed. Are you feeling any better?

Ilaria: I feel much better. The chicken soup really helped. Good flight?

Melisande: Long flight but otherwise uneventful. I'm so relieved you're feeling better. You know, if you're 100% tomorrow, it's not too late to catch another flight out here. Everybody would love to see you.

Ilaria: I think I'll stay here and rest and catch up on work. Tell everyone I miss them. Have fun while you're there.

Melisande: Okay, sweetie, talk to you soon.

"She's fine," Melisande told her husband as she set her phone down.

"Of course she is," Stefano said. "She's tough, like her mother." He rubbed her shoulder. "It would have been good for her to sit with me and Galen to talk business, but I'll fill her in later."

Melisande put her hand on his knee. "This is going to be a good thing for all of us, right?"

Stefano's eyes hardened. "Yes," he said firmly. "It will be a very good thing." He shook his head. "After what happened with Cordelia and Leo, this would go a long way to mend any remaining animosity."

Melisande felt a gloom settle over her at the memory. Five years ago, the Carosis, along with Stefano's younger brother, Vincent, and his wife and son, Cordelia and Leo, were vacationing in Europe and decided to stop in Edinburgh to see Galen. The families were all getting along famously during the week they stayed at the MacGregor mansion.

Then tragedy struck. Cordelia and Leo, driving back from a day of sightseeing, swerved to avoid an oncoming car that had run the red light. They missed the car but slammed into the pole of the street light, instantly killing them both.

The driver and passengers of the other car were MacGregors, teenagers, children of Galen's cousin.

Galen immediately took action, promising to dole out a harsh but fair punishment on top of the six months of juvenile detention issued by the government. But the damage was done; Vincent could never forgive those teenagers, and by extension any MacGregor. No punishment would be enough to bring his wife and son back.

Even though Stefano believed Galen responded appropriately under the circumstances and never found fault with Galen, he limited his contact with the MacGregors for a few years out of loyalty to Vincent. But as the memory of the accident dulled over time, at least for Stefano, he reached out again, and they quickly resumed their relationship.

"Now is our chance to let go of what happened, move forward, and expand our business," Stefano said, sitting up straighter as he imagined the possibilities of the partnership with the MacGregors.

As is the case for businessmen, talking business was naturally a frequent topic of conversation between Stefano and Galen. During a recent discussion, Stefano lamented about the slowing of his business. All were still profitable, but he wasn't bringing in enough capital to invest in new acquisitions to grow his organization.

Galen, intensely loyal and generous to his family and close friends, and a smart investor to boot, made Stefano an offer that stunned him. Galen offered, on behalf of the MacGregor organization, to make a significant investment into the Carosi organization to expand into new ventures in Chicago.

In return, as a silent investor, the MacGregors would receive a guaranteed rate of return on the profits of the new ventures. The Carosis would continue to run the day-to-day operations, while the MacGregors dipped their investment toes into the U.S. market.

This trip to Edinburgh served the dual purpose of friends reuniting after two years and finalizing the terms of the partnership.

Melisande sensed her husband's anticipation as he watched the passing scenery. It had been years since he seemed excited about work, and his excitement extended into their marriage, about which she could hardly complain.

The only thing nagging at her was Vincent. Right before they left, she had overheard her brother-in-law pleading with Stefano not to accept this partnership. She didn't catch the reasons Vincent was against it, but she guessed it had to do with his ongoing antipathy toward the MacGregors. Stefano finally ended the discussion by saying that as the head of the family, his decision was final. Which was true, but she knew her husband hadn't wanted to create a rift between them.

She shook that thought from her mind. It served no purpose to bring it up now.

"I'm going to have Ilaria get more involved from now on," Stefano said. "I want her to get more practice in evaluating the new ventures and writing the proposals. She needs to know the business inside and out." He kissed Melisande on her head. "While we're still here to help her."

She nodded in agreement. "As long as she still has time to date." Her husband grumbled. Even though their daughter was twenty-nine years old, he still didn't like the idea of her dating.

"She has to find a husband at some point," Melisande said in a reasonable tone. "I, for one, don't want to be responsible for choosing a husband for her. I don't see that ending well for any of us."

Not because they wouldn't choose an appropriate business partner to support Ilaria as she eventually assumed control as the head of the family. No, it would be the tricky work of finding the right marriage partner that, if chosen incorrectly, would make Ilaria, and by extension her parents, miserable.

"She'll have plenty of time to date," Stefano said, frowning. "I just don't want to hear about it."

"You know who would be a perfect match for her?" Melisande mused. "Soren. If only he wasn't in Scotland."

"Or have his own family business to take over," Stefano said wryly.

"Yeah, yeah, there's that, too." She waved her hand dismissively but laughed.

"Speaking of dating…of course, business comes first, but I hope we have time to try out the new restaurant in downtown Edinburgh I read about." She glanced hopefully at her husband.

"Of course, sweetheart. We'll have plenty of time—"

His words cut off when something big and heavy rammed into the side of their SUV and flipped the vehicle over twice. Metal crunched and glass shattered as the SUV slid on its roof and finally came to a stop.

Melisande found herself upside down, still strapped into her seat belt. Her head felt fuzzy and disoriented. She might have hit her head but couldn't remember.

She glanced around in a panic. Where was Stefano? She reached out her arms and twisted her neck to look. Stefano had been flung toward the front seats, even though he had been wearing his seat belt as well. A red gash was sliced across the top of his head, bleeding profusely.

"Stefano!" A sob escaped her as she yanked at her seat belt. Goddammit. She fumbled for the release button. After three tries, she depressed the button. The restraint released, and she fell onto the overturned roof of the SUV, barely holding out her arms in time to prevent her head from slamming onto the ground.

She scrambled upright onto her knees and crawled over to her husband. "Stefano!" She patted his face. "Wake up!" She choked back another sob. She looked at the driver, who was still strapped in, hanging upside down. A soft moan came from him. She looked around for an opening to crawl out. She needed to find help.

Melisande crawled over to the window, a large shard of glass still attached to the frame. She turned feet first and kicked out the remaining glass so she could get out.

Suddenly, a pair of black boots walked up to the SUV.

"Help!" she yelled. She scrambled over to the window opening. "Please help! My husband and the driver are hurt."

The owner of the boots didn't respond and disappeared around the other side of the vehicle.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" She stuck her head and arms out of the window opening.

Suddenly, a sharp pop sounded behind her, and she jumped. She looked back.

Blood was pouring down from the driver, pooling onto the roof.

Oh my God.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she turned back to Stefano just when the barrel of a gun appeared through the opening, silencer attached. Another sharp pop, and Stefano's body jerked. Blood bloomed under his shirt.

"No!" Melisande screamed. She threw herself on top of him and peered into his face, tears streaming. "Baby, no, please, don't die."

A hand grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the SUV, the remaining window glass cutting through her clothes into her skin. Her chin banged painfully on the edge of the window as the hand yanked her out and then roughly turned her onto her back.

A man dressed in black and face hooded stood over her.

Melisande was no idiot; she knew that her husband's business contained elements of danger. But over the years, their diligence and precautions had protected her family. The understanding between the families in Chicago had maintained peace for the last few decades.

But it had finally caught up to them.

"You will die for this," she hissed.

She spat at him from where she laid on the ground.

In one smooth motion, he swung the gun up and aimed it at her head. Melisande's only comfort was that she was defiant to the end. Then her world went black.

***

The peal of Galen's cell phone interrupted the soothing silence Soren and his uncle were enjoying. Soren jolted in his chair, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Galen walked over to his desk and picked up his phone. He frowned when he saw the caller. He swiped to answer. "Yes?"

Soren watched Galen's furrowed brow flatten, his lips thin, and his jaw set. "You're sure?" he asked. His eyes closed as if to shut out what he was hearing on the other end.

Alarm rang through Soren. He stood up, shoulders tense, and continued to watch his uncle.

"Thanks for letting me know," Galen said. Then he swiped to hang up.

Galen slowly looked up at Soren, devastation in his eyes.

"Stefano and Melisande were gunned down on the drive here from the airport. They're dead."

Soren froze. Blood roared in his ears. "What about Ilaria?"

Galen's face was grim. "She wasn't at the scene."

***

Ilaria leaned her head against the headrest as Emmy weaved her way through downtown Chicago back to their condo building. She just wanted to crawl into bed, ignore the complications of her love life, and go to sleep. And preferably not have any more sexy dreams of kissing Soren.

Her phone vibrated in her handbag on her lap. Who's calling at two A.M.?

She pulled out her phone. It was her Uncle Vincent. Before she could answer, the call ended. Five missed calls and another five text messages from the last hour, all from Vincent.

She hit the "call back" button. Vincent picked up immediately.

"Where are you?" His voice sounded strained.

"On my way home from the club," she replied, slightly annoyed. She was an adult and didn't need to be checked up on.

He let out a whoosh of breath. "Okay, I had heard you hadn't gone to Edinburgh with your parents." Was that relief she heard in his voice?

She frowned. "What's wrong?"

Emmy glanced at her, and she sensed Noe sitting forward in the backseat.

Vincent took a deep inhale. "I received a call from Galen an hour ago." He paused.

Ilaria sat up, dread pooling in her stomach. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

"It's your parents." His voice was shaking. "They were shot and killed earlier this evening."