Chapter 21

21

Axel

I'm getting married. What the bloody fuck? I'm getting married. How the hell did that happen? Oh, I know, it has something to do with a curvy, green-eyed sprite who dared to ask me to marry her in front of those … those men. Men who are my brothers, but who abandoned me and my mother as surely as their father did. So what, if none of them knew of my existence? It's their father who sent my mother away in exchange for assets that would further his business.

My mother was the only daughter of the head of the Camorra , arch rivals to the Cosa Nostra. She had fallen in love with my father, despite the fact that he was married. She moved to be with him, despite the fact that her family would never accept her back. By the time she was pregnant with me and my brothers, she realized just how abusive he could get with her.

After my brothers and I were born, she wanted to leave my father. In response, he negotiated with my mother's father for her return. He insisted that she leave the children behind, but she refused. Finally, he agreed to let her take one of the triplets—me—along with her.

She left, and when her family had disowned her, she decided to strike out on her own. No small decision for a Mafia princess who had been brought up in the lap of luxury. She moved to London, and with no skill to support herself, she turned to the world's oldest profession. A cliché maybe, but my mother had been determined to survive without the help of her family. She also insisted that I go to a good school. She worked herself to the bone to ensure that I had the best education available. Pun intended.

She made no secret about how much she despised the Cosa Nostra and the Camorra , and anything to do with the Mafia, really. It was the one thing she made me promise—never to have anything to do with them. What she neglected to mention was that she was one of them, as am I. She hadn't told me anything about my background, or my father, or about my triplet brothers. Not until she was on her deathbed. Even then, she waited until the very last minute, when she sensed her imminent death, before she finally told me about the circumstances surrounding my birth. Then, she breathed her last.

I knew it was inevitable that she would die early, the way she had been working so hard, and let's face it, women in her profession aren't known for their longevity. She had poured all of her hopes, dreams, and ambitions into me, and a part of me knew that she wouldn't survive for long. Still, no matter how much you try to anticipate it, no one is prepared for death.

My mother had been struck down by a fast-spreading cancer. She refused treatment, something I had found out only later, for she ensured not to tell me about it. Of course, as a teenager I was wrapped up in my own life. Still you'd think I would have spotted that my mother was suffering from cancer. But she managed to hide it well. It wasn't until she was near the end that I realized just how sick she was. At that point, it was hard to ignore how skeletal she'd become, and I hated myself for missing it. I held her hand and looked into her eyes as she passed.

When she was finally still, anger gripped me. I glanced into her lifeless features, and a rage of the kind I'd never experienced before swept through me. She had given me everything materially possible; everything except love. She ensured I had a good education, yet not once had she simply spent time with me, just been with me the way a mother would be with her child. She burdened me with her expectations, her aspirations and wishes.

What about me; what about what I wanted? Yes, it's selfish, I know that. She had sacrificed everything for me, and yet, as I sat there, still holding her hand that was growing increasingly cold, a desolation had swept through me. She had left me without once telling me that she loved me.

I was a reminder of her past, perhaps. I was someone through whom she thought she could vindicate herself, and I hated her for that. And I hated myself for thinking that way. I was so angry with her for screwing me up in the head. I was upset with her for not taking better care of herself. I was frustrated that I wasn't old enough to stop her, that I was unable to keep her from working herself to death, and…

I hated myself for not noticing sooner. She insisted that she was fine, and I believed her. I lived the life of a carefree youth, someone who had everything going for him, who was going to achieve all of his dreams… The kinds of dreams that she had wanted for me.

I swore then I would avenge her. I would track down those who were responsible for destroying her. I would find the man who had lied to her and caused her to get pregnant, which led to the events that had ruined her. I would find my father and ensure that he suffered as much as she had. As much as I had.

It was what led me here. All of the images from my past pour through my mind, and for a second, I have complete clarity.

I remember now, how I tracked down my father. And when he was killed before I had the opportunity to avenge my mother, I was forced to refocus my attention on my brothers.

I had already approached Christian's now-wife Aurora in London and coerced her into helping me. When her father had taken ill and she returned home to become the Sovranos' doctor, that only made it easier.

Then, Christian put himself in my crosshairs when he fixated on Aurora. I could learn more about him than anyone else because he spent the most time with her. When the two of them became separated from the rest of the family, and thus, were unprotected, I had my opportunity to strike.

And I had help. I straighten. On my side, I had an ally who was more powerful, stronger than the Cosa Nostra, and with as fierce a motive as mine to take them down.

It's why I must go through with this sham of a marriage—something I didn't anticipate, but which I can use to my advantage. It's why I will use my soon-to-be wife to get back at the Cosa Nostra.

I throw back my head and laugh. It's perfect, actually. I couldn't have planned this set-up better.

I'm going to leverage this marriage to my benefit and take full advantage of the perks that come with it too. I roll off the bed where I flung myself down after returning from the meeting with my brothers. It's only a short flight of steps from the study downstairs to my bedroom, but the catch-up with them and the events of the day took it out of me. I'm healing fast, but I'm nowhere near my former health, and while I'm pushing myself to get in shape, I also know the dangers of overdoing it. So, I forced myself to return to my room and I took a nap. A bloody nap in the middle of the day… Like I'm a helpless infant, but at least, I feel refreshed. And I'm going to need my strength for what I have in mind.