30. Alessandro

Lorenzo and Jenkins do a sweep of the warehouse to make sure we don't leave anyone alive. Evelyn refuses to leave my side, and I won't let her. We find ourselves looking at the guy who held us both hostage for far too long, and I nudge him with my foot.

"I think he's dead this time, Alessandro," she says quietly.

I bend down, patting down his pockets. There's a phone in one and a wallet in another. Opening it up, there isn't any ID, but I'm not expecting to find any.

"What are you looking for?" she asks.

"A name," I snarl. "I want to know who hired him. Even though I know who did."

"Who?"

Her innocence, not knowing that she married into a family of monsters. Only, the monster I am wasn't by my own design.

The phone rings. The bastard's phone is ringing.

Evelyn's voice is soft. "Should we answer it?"

Fuck it, why not?

I hold the guy's thumb print on the screen to answer the call and set the phone on the table so they don't see anyone's face.

"Ay! Is it done? After you plug the wife, get my nephew and his father. I paid good money for this shit, and it should have been done by now. Twenty-five fucking years of this shit. He left with the money over an hour ago."

I pick up the phone to look Oz—no, to look Oscar Baldoni in his eyes.

"Shit, fuck, um, Alessandro, listen, fuck." He ends the call without an explanation, and I get a text to my phone a few moments later.

Hanging by a thread. Let's go for a swim.

Inside the car, Jenkins drives us back home where Evelyn's ready to go inside, but I stop her before she gets out of the car. Lorenzo and Jenkins leave us alone for a minute.

"I need to go finish this," I tell her. "When I come back, we can talk. About everything."

"You're going to tell me all of your secrets?" she quips with a wicked grin.

"I don't think I have many, but they belong to you since I carry them with me. I don't know how long I'm going to be gone, but I should be home by sunrise. I love you, Evelyn De Luca."

"I love you too, Alessandro." She leans over, kissing me passionately with her tongue slipping inside my mouth, but I have to stop her.

"Mio dolce," I growl. "I can't think about fucking you in the back seat of this car right before I go bleed a motherfucker like a pig."

She giggles, touching the side of my face and running her thumb gently down my scar. "Make him squeal, baby. I'll be cooking."

Just like that, she gets out of the car to head inside, and Lorenzo hops into the driver's seat.

"Jenkins is going to hang out with her until you get back," he says. "Staten Island?"

"Yeah, let's go."

By the time we get to Oscar's house, night's fallen and so have a lot of his security team. I can see the bloody drag marks across the light-colored driveway. My father's car is parked on the side of the garage, out of sight as Lorenzo and I walk around the side of the house.

There's a large tent covering the pool house that mimics a fumigation tent, and the best thing about it is that it's soundproof. The closer we get, the faster my heart pounds. I shoot a text back to the number from earlier. A bloody hand lifts open a flap a few minutes later.

We're shown to the empty pool where there is a pile of bodies in one corner. Don Matteo Rossi worked a chainsaw on the soldiers who lost their lives pledging loyalty to Oscar. My mother's brother is strung up by his wrists, dangling a few inches above the pool's deep end as my father works him like a punching bag.

Oscar has blood streaming down his chin, and it looks like my father's removed a few of his teeth and toenails.

"Jesus Christ, Pop."

"Don't give me shit, I'm out of practice. And not for nothing, this is not the person I thought would pull me back into the seat at the head of our family table. Anything to say, you fucking traitor?" Pop asks Oscar.

I stand there, smug, arms folded across my chest. "If you tell me why, I'll make my time with you quick."

Pulling out my blade, I flip it out of its sheath and back in so he can see which knife I plan to use.

"You," Oscar breathes heavily with each word. "You killed my sister."

"My mother? I was ten when she died. Make it make sense, Oz."

"Gramercy fucked up. He was told to kill Sandro to stop him from taking over La Familia. The old guard?—"

"That's where I was going, Alessandro," Pop tells me, "When I wanted to send you to live with this rat. I was going to kill those bastards. I knew they ordered the hit but killed my Rosalie instead. It was a mistake that they paid for with their lives."

"Gramercy? That's the asshole who did this to me? That's his name?"

"Yeah, Ellis. I found him that night the cops got you to the hospital. I helped him instead of letting him die. He told me he'd finish the job and I"d take over. He'd be my personal hand of God. Over the years, he's proved useful. When Sandro got sick, it was the perfect time. He was to take you both out, and I could be the Don. Fuck you both. You killed my sister."

"No, that maniac did, and he's rotting in the Bronx River as we speak." I walk over to Oscar's dangling body, shaking my head, sick of death, sick of being the butcher. I hand the knife to my father.

"Wait, you promised—" Oscar gasps and grunts as Pop takes to his gut with the blade but stops when I start speaking.

"The kid I strung up in here, those shooters, you hired them, didn't you? And the businesses, that was you?"

"Yes, I had to make you think we needed to get into guns to protect and grow our territory."

"You stubborn old goat. You would have had the Bratva slaughter us all for moving in on their territory. I told you that guns were a bad idea. You should have listened to me. You guys have fun."

"You don't want a slice, Alessandro?" Pop asks.

I look at Oscar for the last time in my life. "No, my time with him is done. I never said I was going to use the knife, so he won't make a liar out of me. He's been in league with the man who killed your wife, my mother, who tried to kill me, and he kidnapped the mother of my child. I'm going home. Burn it down when you're done. I don't give a fuck."

"I'm going to hang around, Less," Lorenzo says with a wicked grin. "Something about that chainsaw is calling my name. Besides, I think you and Evelyn are going to need the house for a few days. I'll check in with you."

We lock arms, shake, and I leave the beautiful mansion on a discreet back lot on a street not well traveled in Staten Island. When I get back home, I unload the money from the back of the car and head inside where Jenkins tips his head to me.

"You two, enjoy yourselves. I'm taking a vacation," he jokes, but I stop him.

After going into the bag to pull out a few stacks of money, I hand it to him. "I'm sorry, Jenkins. I've been an ass to you, but it was your doing your job that let us find her. Thank you."

"Just keep her safe," he says, taking the money with a light salute before heading out the door.

I half expect the kitchen to be blazing with pots, pans, the oven on, and music playing, but it's empty. I take the steps up to the bedrooms where I hear the softest hum of someone singing to themselves.

"Mio dolce."