GIO
Millie’s bewildered gaze remained fixed on me, a mixture of confusion and fear evident in her eyes. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her concern clearly centered on her sister’s safety. It was as if she couldn’t fathom the gravity of the situation that had unfolded before us.
“What do you mean?” Her words held a quiver of trepidation, though her primary worry seemed to lie with her sister’s well-being.
“Dario killed Gallo,” I revealed, the weight of those words hanging heavily in the air. “He’s with your sister now.”
Millie’s lips parted, but no words emerged. Yet, her countenance shifted, and a palpable sense of relief washed over her. I couldn’t blame her; her sole concern was her sister’s safety. What she didn’t realize was the intricate web of complications woven by Dario’s actions, a decision he had compelled me to make a decision I had vehemently resisted.
“We’ll need to go to them,” I informed her, a steely resolve in my tone. I began to gather my assortment of guns and knives, strategically placing them in the holsters across my chest, back, and calves.
Millie observed my preparations, her expression gradually morphing into one of growing apprehension. “We’ll have to flee, won’t we? If Gallo is dead, Mathias will undoubtedly initiate a war against us.”
I offered a curt nod, acknowledging the reality of the situation. It was one potential path, the other being to display to Mathias my disapproval of Dario’s actions. “Yes, you’re right. We need to move quickly.”
Her delicate hand found mine, a gesture of solidarity as we braced ourselves for the impending storm. Leading her out of our quarters, I navigated the corridor that was meant to be Sienna and Gallo’s haven on their wedding night.
Surveying our surroundings, my senses were on high alert, attuned to any unusual sounds that might betray a lurking threat. However, all that reached my ears were strains of distant music and faint laughter the echoes of an ongoing celebration. The tautness of my jaw reflected the gravity of the situation. Seven years of tenuous peace between the Outfit and the Famiglia were unravelling before us, fractured by the events of this night. Mathias, a man of pride, would inevitably retaliate in the face of such provocation. I understood his mindset; if a member of my crew fell within my territory, my retribution would be merciless.
Surprisingly, Millie remained remarkably quiet by my side, her silence suggesting a growing awareness of the peril we were in.
A measured knock on the bedroom door heralded Dario’s response. He swung the door open, and Millie released my hand, hastening towards her sister, who sat perched on the edge of the bed.
Dario’s gaze met mine, unapologetic for his actions. At least he wasn’t feigning remorse. I strode past him into the chamber.
“My God, Sienna. What happened? Are you alright?” Millie’s concerned inquiry barely registered, for my attention was ensnared by the lifeless figure at the room’s center. Gallo lay on his side, a letter opener jutting from his abdomen. As I approached, I scrutinized the scene more closely. The letter opener wasn’t the fatal instrument; a knife had been plunged just below his ribs, piercing his heart. Dario’s handiwork, as I had expected.
Lifting my gaze to Sienna, I noted her freeze upon meeting my eyes. “Explain what transpired here.”
Her gaze shifted uneasily between Dario and me, as though debating which fabricated tale to tell. I couldn’t fathom their audacity. “I want the unvarnished truth!”
“Gio,” Millie interjected, her tone reprimanding. “Sienna’s clearly in shock. Give her a moment.”
“We don’t have a moment. A dead Outfit member lies in this room with us. The situation will escalate rapidly.”
Millie redirected her attention to her sister, seeking reassurance. “Sienna, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t have the chance to harm me.”
Their exchanges meant nothing to me at this juncture. We were ensnared in a dire predicament. Dario’s actions had set into motion a cascade of consequences. By eliminating Gallo, he had invited the Outfit’s furious retribution upon us, compounding the ongoing conflict with the Bratva and the obstinate motorcycle clubs causing strife in multiple regions.
“That’s enough,” I growled, exasperation seeping into my tone as I lost patience with the collective evasion. My gaze bore into Dario. “I demand answers. Remember your oath.”
Dario’s stare remained unwavering, resolute in its intensity. He had been a steadfast soldier until this moment, but this transgression was no minor lapse. The logical outcome for what he had done loomed in our unspoken exchange.
“I always do,” he responded, his voice steady.
My finger pointed towards Gallo’s lifeless form. “This doesn’t reflect that. Or are you proposing that Sienna executed this act alone?”
Dario’s head shook slowly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and desperation. “Sienna is innocent,” he asserted, his voice unwavering despite the weight of the situation. “When I arrived, Arman was still alive. She had used a letter opener to defend herself from his attack. It was a matter of self-defense on her part.”
I struggled to grasp the notion. “Self-defense?” I repeated, my skepticism evident. In this world we inhabited, the actions of Gallo weren’t exactly shocking. They were the grim norms we all accepted. My gaze sharpened as it fell on Sienna. “What did he do?”
“He tried to force himself on her,” Dario replied, his voice firm but submissive.
The words bristled under my skin. “I didn’t ask you!” I snapped, my anger refusing any attempt at placation. Millie reached out to touch my arm, a gesture of solace, but my fury was beyond taming. This was no minor transgression; it was a matter that disrupted the delicate equilibrium. Sienna’s actions had consequences far more significant than she might have realized. By stabbing Gallo, she had defied his claim, a claim sanctioned by the rules governing our world. “And if he tried to… consummate the marriage, no one here will see it as self-defense,” I growled, the frustration and helplessness colliding within me. “Arman had a right to her body. He was her husband, damn it!”
Dario moved forward, a hint of challenge in his eyes before he halted himself. I regarded him intently, a silent dare passing between us. If he were to attack, the decision would be wrested from my hands, but I was not one to back down.
“You can’t be serious,” Millie interjected, her eyes wide with a plea that seemed almost naive in this brutal reality.
She, like I, knew the stark realities of a wedding night. No one would care for Sienna’s lack of consent, her struggle against Gallo. The rules were immutable, bound by tradition. Neither Mathias nor I held the power to alter these customs without collective support from our comrades and their families. “You know how it is, Millie. I’m merely stating the facts.”
Millie shook her head, resolute. “I don’t care. A husband doesn’t have the right to force himself on his wife. Everyone should agree on that!”
But even Millie, with her tender heart, recognized the cruel world we navigated. Most women were claimed on their wedding night, a fact I had once pondered with regret. Saving Millie from that fate had been a pivotal decision, one I’d come to appreciate. Had I harmed her on that night, reconciliation would have been impossible.
Dario moved to Sienna, encircling her protectively, and the presence of love between them was undeniable. Love, the emotion my father had termed a weakness, and it was becoming apparent that he wasn’t far from the truth. Love had eroded my strength, weakened my brother, and now it threatened to undermine the Famiglia itself. The wolves in our midst would seize upon this vulnerability the moment news broke. “I warned you that this would lead to disaster,” I remarked with a bitter chuckle. “So, let me guess: Sienna stabs her husband, you’re summoned, and you finish the job to claim her.”
Dario nodded, a hint of shame and devotion mingling in his expression. “Yes. And to protect her. If he survived, he would have pinned the blame on Sienna. She would have faced the Outfit’s wrath.”
Laughter escaped me involuntarily. “And now she won’t? They’ll put her on trial, and not only will she face dire consequences, but they’ll also accuse us of orchestrating this. Then blood will spill. Mathias may be cold, but he must project strength. War will be declared soon enough, all because you couldn’t control your desires and emotions.”
“As if you could,” Dario retorted. “You’d crush anyone who dared come between you and Millie.”