GIO
Heads nodded in concurrence, while others wore expressions akin to those who’d witnessed the unthinkable. Such matters didn’t concern me. “This meeting is concluded.”
I motioned toward my uncle’s men and gestured at his remaining son, who displayed little sorrow for his father’s demise. “Take his body back with you. May you be spared the fate of your father and brother.”
With that, I pivoted, disenchanted with the proceedings. Sebastian trailed me as I exited the power plant, en route to my Aston Martin.
However, Sebastian interposed before I could slide behind the wheel. “I believe I should drive. Your state of mind is not quite stable.”
I thrust the keys at him. “You think?” I muttered, a sardonic edge to my tone.
He retreated to the car’s trunk, reemerging moments later with a pristine white shirt. “Perhaps you should change. It wouldn’t do for us to explain this situation to the police if they happen upon us. Remember, not all of them are under our influence.”
Stripping off my shirt, I used it to scrub my face and hands, yet the pink tinge persisted. Dario emerged from the building, and I handed him the soiled garment. “Can you dispose of this?”
He nodded, his gaze betraying concern. Their worry was of no consequence to me. I was composed and composedly fine.
As I slid into the plush leather seat of the car, the cool interior offering a brief respite from the tension that had gripped me all day, Sebastian smoothly settled into the driver’s seat. The engine purred to life, and we began to move through the dimly lit streets. The silence between us was palpable, only punctuated by the occasional glance he directed my way, his concern evident in his furrowed brows and searching eyes. It was as if he could sense the turmoil that churned within me.
After a while, his voice cut through the heavy air, breaking the silence that had settled like a heavy blanket. “You okay?” he inquired gently, his tone laced with genuine worry.
I responded with a scowl, the bitterness in my voice betraying the storm of emotions that raged beneath the surface. “I’ve killed so many people. You think I still care?”
He didn’t recoil from my harsh words, instead maintaining his focus on the road ahead. “The last time you crushed a throat, you were a bit unhinged afterwards. You’ve been on edge anyway considering everything that’s been going on.”
The phrase “on edge” seemed almost inadequate to capture the maelstrom of pressures and threats that had woven themselves into my life. The eruption of war had acted as a catalyst, amplifying the whispers within the Famiglia that clamored for my downfall. While they were still a vocal minority, their voices had grown more insistent, casting a shadow over every move I made. Tonight’s actions might have silenced some of those enemies, but in this world, every victory brought with it the potential for new adversaries to rise. The constant balance of power was an intricate dance, one that required careful navigation.
As the city lights streaked past us, I found myself lost in my thoughts. Replacing my aging uncles with fresh, reliable Underbosses had been long overdue. The weight of their presence had been a burden I had carried for too long. It was a matter of time before their loyalties would need to be severed, one way or another.
“Back to our wives?” Sebastian’s voice pulled me from my reverie, his question a reminder of the world beyond the confines of our current predicament. “Or do you need additional time to cool off?”
My response was swift, a stark denial of any vulnerability. “I don’t need time to cool off. I’m fine. All I want is to have Millie’s naked body beneath me.”
The rare admission surprised even me. My relationship with Millie was a closely guarded sanctuary, a part of my life I preferred to keep shielded from the eyes of those around me. The rest of the journey unfolded in silence, each passing moment bringing me closer to the sanctuary of our shared home.
Upon arrival, the mansion’s grandeur loomed in the darkness. The air felt charged, the usual calming effect that followed a successful kill eluding me this time. When Dario joined us shortly after, we entered the mansion together, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a cocoon. The living room greeted us with the soft glow of Christmas decorations, a reminder of the fleeting moments of tranquility amidst the chaos of our existence.
My attention was pulled away by the familiar sound of my mobile. Retrieving it from my pocket, I glanced at the urgent email notification from a journalist contact, its subject line a flurry of exclamation marks. Intrigued, I opened the email, my eyes scanning the words that followed. A colleague from Chicago had forwarded a series of attached photos, and my curiosity surged. My focus shifted from the turbulent currents of my world to the enigma presented before me.
SEBASTIAN
Deep down, an intuition had always whispered to me that there would come a moment when the shadows within both Gio and me would surge to an overwhelming crescendo. It would be a moment when the darkness threatened to overflow, consuming every glimmer of light, every vestige of goodness we clung to. Dread settled in as I began to believe that this pivotal instant had arrived for Gio.
My swift action prevented Dario from advancing any closer to Gio, my outstretched hand halting him in his tracks. A puzzled expression furrowed Dario’s brow, but his gaze shifted to Gio, his body tensing almost instinctively. I too stood there, gripped by a cocktail of anxiety and anticipation.
Gio and I had shared a lifetime together, traversing the peaks and valleys, navigating the mire of the worst moments and celebrating the best. We had been comrades in killing and suffering, companions in laughter and conflict. Throughout all these ordeals, I had never harbored genuine wariness about my brother. Not when he’d crushed our cousin’s windpipe in a fit of rage, not when his anger had been directed at me for criticizing Millie. However, the look etched onto his features at that moment was uncharted territory.
Perplexed by the unfamiliarity of Gio’s expression, I couldn’t pinpoint its source. Yet, I could identify the one force potent enough to reduce him to such vulnerability, the solitary entity capable of shattering him into irreversible pieces. Ironically, this was the same person I had naively believed could prevent such a breakdown.
“Gio?” I ventured, treading carefully on uncertain ground.
His gaze remained locked on a photograph displayed on his phone screen. Intrigued yet wary, I edged closer to discern its contents, and what I glimpsed drained the color from my face. The image captured Millie, her hand intertwined intimately with Mathias’s. My mind struggled to process this inconceivable tableau. Even Dario, inquisitively glancing at the photograph, couldn’t decipher its context.
In the midst of this tableau, Harper sauntered into the room, nonchalantly clad in a nightgown. However, her poise faltered upon encountering our collective unease. Her eyes flicked between me and Gio, the once-present smile now absent without a trace.
Sharp urgency pierced my tone as I addressed her, “Where’s Millie?”
Harper mumbled, her gaze darting back to Gio, who remained motionless, his gaze affixed to the screen. Although he seemed motionless, I knew he was acutely attuned to the unfolding scene.
“Don’t use that tone with me,” Harper muttered, her eyes involuntarily drawn to Gio once more, his inertia unbroken as he continued staring at his phone. Yet, he was listening, absorbing every word.
“Harper, tell me where Millie is. This is a matter of utmost seriousness,” I growled, my frustration underscoring every syllable.
Sienna emerged from the background, but a restrained gesture from Dario advised her to stay put, her curiosity temporarily stifled. Dario himself inquired, “Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Harper murmured, her voice barely audible, though it was an unmistakable lie. Both Dario and I sensed the deceit, the unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface. Gio, too, recognized it.
“Is she in Chicago?” I demanded, my persistence unwavering.
An exchange of glances transpired between Harper and Sienna, their silence communicating more than words ever could.
“What’s happening here?” Harper interjected, feigning ignorance.
At that moment, Gio finally raised his eyes from the photograph, and the depth of emotion they contained hit me like a tidal wave.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, the fear that those eyes betrayed echoing through my bones.
“Sienna,” Dario began, intending to issue a warning, yet his words were destined to remain unspoken.
“Did you know about this?” Gio’s voice held a depth I had never heard before. It was a tone that seemed to originate from a place of anguish, hanging on the precipice of shattering. He turned his phone toward Harper and Sienna, displaying a series of photos that unveiled Millie’s intimacy with Mathias. The first showed them holding hands, the second captured Mathias’s intimate gesture, his mouth close to Millie’s ear, and the final one was the most damning-a picture of Millie and Mathias in a car, with Mathias leaning over her, obscuring their faces, and his arm reaching between her legs.