Alessio
“I need you to tell me, when it comes down to it-will you choose us or her?”
I stood rooted to the spot. How could he ask me to choose between Mena and my family, when they were both my family?
Mena was carrying our baby. A Fanucci.
“I will do the same as I did when she begged me to spare Anson’s life,” my jaw clenched as I recalled her desperate pleas for his life. “I will do what’s best for this family-so don’t you worry about me.”
“But it’s not you I’m worried about,” Dad argued. “It’s her and her loyalty. She’s so good, too innocent,” he shook his head slightly.
I understood his worries. Mena’s kindness was part of what made her so special, and the reason I fell in love with her. It was because she was so different, but in our world those traits were seen as a vulnerability.
“I don’t want to have this conversation,” I stated, looking the other way. “I thought you liked her, I thought we all liked her,” I said. “Not that I care-because I’m the only one that has to like her.”
“Oh, I adore her,” Dad chortled. “That’s why I want to protect both of you.”
“By asking me to choose?”
Dad scoffed, “I told you, only when it comes down to it.”
Just as I was about to call him out, my phone buzzed. It was the text from Gian I had been waiting on all day. It was short and straight to the point.
‘On our way back.’
“I need to go,” I announced, our unsolved discussion leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, but at this moment the thing with Isaac was much more important. “And just so you know, after all of this is finished-I’ll ask Mena to marry me. Make her a Fanucci.”
Dad raised his brows for a second, then smiled. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
He stepped aside, not losing his smile and gestured toward the door. “Go,” he said. “Take care of the problem.”
“I will,” I muttered, walking past him. Ever since Dad had gotten his revenge on Leonardo, he had been a bit too calm and collected for my liking. It made me wonder if everything was really okay with him, or if this was just his way of coping.
I hope you know what you’re doing?
Whatever that’s supposed to mean.
I headed to the living room, where I had last seen Mena and Pilar.
They were still in the same position, lying on the sofa, talking and laughing like nothing was going on.
Mena released a gasp as our eyes met. “Hey, we were just talking about you and-”
“Are you okay?” she cut off her own words,
her smile fading into concern as she studied my face.
“Gian is on his way back,” I spoke with composure, although my stomach was in knots. Between the conversation I just had with Dad, and Gian’s text-my mind was all over the place.
I told her she could be there, but I didn’t want her there. Now I realized I never wanted her there, I didn’t want her love for me to fade away even the tiniest bit, and it would-because she saw me as a monster.
“Do you still want to come or…” I spoke slowly, hoping she would decline-but the determined look on her face suggested otherwise.
“Yes!” she jumped up. “Of course I need to. I need to look out for you.”
Or more like the other way around.
“No matter how much I want to, I know I can’t touch him before I get to the bottom of everything, I know.” I spoke, hoping to talk her out of going. “You don’t need to be there.”
“But I want to,” Mena stated as stubbornly as always.
I glanced at Pilar, hoping for some support, but she quickly turned away, making clear she didn’t want to get involved.
“Yes, sure,” I spoke like a robot. My heart was torn-proud of her bravery, but terrified for her mental state because I knew she couldn’t take it. She was pregnant, and the last thing she needed was more stress than she already had these past days.
I already carried a huge sense of guilt for making her go through all that while she was carrying my child. I carried guilt for bringing Isaac into our lives.
How much more guilt did I have to carry?
“We better head out now,” I mustered a smile.
As we walked towards the car, I grabbed Pilar’s shoulder to stop her. “Thanks!” my voice dripped with sarcasm. One would think someone who knew what was about to happen would talk their pregnant friend out of going.
“You know how she gets when her mind is set on something,” Pilar whispered back, frustrated.
Mena glanced back at us, and I removed my hand from Pilar, now the both of us forcing smiles. Reaching the car, Donni and Dante were already there, waiting.
Their faces looked strained, and both were quiet. Something that never suited them. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Ready?” I asked, meeting their somber looks.
They both mumbled something back and stepped inside the van. This wouldn’t be easy for anyone. The man we were about to torture was the same man we raised our glasses with last week.
I called him my brother last week.
A fed, and I called him my brother…
Pilar took the driver’s seat. According to her, the rest of us were too emotional and aggravated to drive. Maybe she was right.
I sat beside Mena, glancing at her every now and then.
She wasn’t ready for what was about to happen, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I could tell her, but she wouldn’t listen.
I could beg her, but she still wouldn’t listen.
I could raise my voice at her, but then she would possibly choke me to death.
I knew I was the one who asked her to support me, but not on the front lines. I never wanted any of that.
“Are you okay?” Mena caught me staring. She offered a small smile.
“I’m good,” I responded, even though I should be the one asking her that question. Even though she exposed him, she had also gotten too close to Isaac. I was really not in the mood for an ‘it’s all my fault’ breakdown later on. After all, I told her what to expect.
As we neared the warehouse, I spotted Gian standing with Isaac. Isaac was talking, his mouth moving rapidly, but I couldn’t make out the words from this distance. What I could make out was that Gian was smiling and nodding as if everything was perfectly normal.
“That motherfucker,” Donni muttered under his breath, his tone still sounding like he was in disbelief.
I mostly felt sorry towards him-even more than I did for myself. It was hard for Donni to accept outsiders, but he had accepted Isaac. If I was like a closed book, Donni was like a burned book. He had no one to talk to because everyone knew not to ask him about his feelings.
“Just stay here for now. I’ll step out first,” I sighed as the van stopped.
I got out, closing the door behind me before I began walking. With each step toward Isaac, my feet felt increasingly heavier.
Isaac, who had noticed me, gave me a quick wave from the distance, and I was forced to return it.
I couldn’t help but wonder if Isaac was really that naive for an agent, or if Gian had played his part well. It must’ve been the latter. My brother had also played his part well when he made me believe he wouldn’t run to Dad with the news.
“Are you good?” Isaac called out as I got closer.
I forced a smile, masking the rage inside. “I’m good. Are you good?” I threw the question back at him as I shared a quick glance with Gian.
“Never been better,” Isaac shrugged, then he began rambling about what they’d been up to. I didn’t listen to a word he said, it didn’t matter anyway. None of it mattered anymore.
“You look angry. Is there something wrong?” Isaac’s voice cut through my thoughts. “What are you doing here anyway?” he added, his tone shifting slightly.
I chuckled, feeling a rush of adrenaline. The fed had the nerve to ask me what I was doing on Fanucci ground? Was he out of his mind?
“I’m here because I need to ask you an important question,” I felt my lips tremble even though my voice remained calm.
Gian and Isaac laughed, both for different reasons.
“You came all the way here to ask me a question?” Isaac asked.
“Well, yes,” I responded, not even cracking as much as a chuckle. By now it began to get more difficult to hide my feelings. Isaac, who could undeniably feel it, stopped laughing. Then his hand slowly lowered to his pockets. Maybe to pull out his gun or perhaps something else to alert MISA.
I knew I couldn’t take any chances. Isaac was a trained agent, fast, a good fighter. I couldn’t underestimate him.
I made eye contact with Gian, giving him a slight nod. He understood immediately and positioned himself quietly behind Isaac as he pulled out his gun.
“I want to know…” I paused, observing the tiniest details on his face. He was sweating, nervous. “… if you prefer the name Levi or Isaac?”
Isaac’s expression shifted in an instant. His eyes narrowed as he realized the situation he found himself in. But before he could react further, Gian struck, knocking him out with the back of his gun.
The thud of his body hitting the ground followed right after.
We had him, and now it was time to find out his agenda.