Chapter 492 Don’t Act Stupid
The timing was offensive. Carol had been standing by the sitting room window, soft light touching her face, her fingers still curled around the edge of his jacket as if she had not quite decided whether to pull him closer or push him away. Massimo had been very willing to help her decide.
The alarm screamed through the house. Massimo swore under his breath.
Carol’s eyes widened. “Massimo—”
“Stay here!”
“Fuck you!” Carol shot back. She hurried out of Massimo’s suite before he could order her again like she was one of his men.
Behind her, she heard him cursing as drawers opened and metal shifted. She did not care about Massimo and his battles.
Marco, on the other hand, was a different problem. He was loyal to the point of madness, and currently injured. Which meant he was going to ignore her warnings to stay put.
Carol moved fast through the corridor, the alarm still screaming through the Italian mansion. Men were shouting orders. She reached Marco’s room and burst inside.
Naturally, he was already getting out of bed.
“Yeah,” Carol snapped, breathing hard. “What else did I expect?”
His broad shoulders were tense.
“Where are you going?” Carol asked.
“To the armoury.”
“Marco, can you even…”
“Ma,” he said, grabbing a shirt from the chair and pulling it on. “I’m fine. I’m only going to help Don, that’s all.”
“But…” she began.
Marco was already out.
“Marco!”
He moved down the hall heading to the mansion armoury. The steel door waited at the end of a narrow corridor, hidden behind a portrait. He entered the code and the lock clicked.
Inside, the lights came on over rows of weapons arranged with frightening neatness. Marco pulled out two handguns, checked them quickly, then headed back out.
He met Don Massimo on his way out to the courtyard. Massimo had changed entirely in the space of minutes. The almost-lover Carol had left behind was gone. In his place stood the Don, face carved from violence.
Both men turned toward the main gates. They marched side by side through the courtyard as the Genovese famiglia men in the compound gathered around them.
“Who is it?” Marco asked Don as they approached the gates. He already knew it would not be good.
Massimo slowed as they neared the iron gates. Beyond them, black cars lined the driveway outside the compound. Men stood beside them in dark suits, their hands visible but their posture ready. “Vitale…” Massimo breathed.
Marco’s fingers tightened around his guns.
Massimo came to a stop before the gates. “Where’s Enzo?” he asked the men.
No one answered. Instead, the line of Vitale soldiers parted. An airport ambulance rolled forward into view.
Marco held his breath.
Fuck.
No.
A very elaborate coffin was lifted down. The men carried it with ceremony. Marco already knew who was in there and if Enzo Vitale had brought his daughter’s body to Massimo’s gate, then he had come to declare war.
Marco’s jaw clenched. This was why Luca usually needed him. Luca was fire and fire did not care what else burned. There were ways this could have been handled.
Massimo was already preparing for war with the Bastiones. Adding Vitale to that would stretch men. Two fronts meant mistakes. Mistakes meant widows.
Marco swallowed hard. Enzo stepped out of his own vehicle. His face was cold and hard, his eyes empty.
He walked to the coffin, placed one hand on the lid and lifted it. In there laid, Bianca’s body for all to see.
Massimo showed no emotion not because he felt none. Bianca Vitale had been his daughter-in-law for over a year. She had sat at his table. Walked through his halls. Worn his family name. He had watched her play the dutiful wife.
She had been accepted and protected. That door had closed the moment she chose destruction. She had chosen war with her husband, chosen bitterness, chosen to strike at Luca where it would hurt.
None of this was his fault.
The courtyard stood silent around him. Genovese men lined the drive. Behind the gates, the Vitale men stood. The coffin gleamed between both sides, obscene in its luxury, Bianca’s body displayed.
Marco stood to Massimo’s right.
“Why have you brought her here?” Massimo asked Enzo.
Enzo’s face twisted. “Don’t act stupid. You know who did this.”
“I have gotten no news.”
“Liar.”
Massimo’s eyes hardened.
“Someone will pay for this, Massimo,” Enzo said. “Produce your son or I will gather every Don willing to fight by me in this city and end the entire race of Genovese.”
Massimo’s lips curved. “I’m glad you accept you cannot take me down all by yourself, Enzo.”
Enzo’s gaze flared.
Massimo took one step closer to the gate. “But you still cannot take me down with whatever army you build with your lies.”
“My daughter is dead.”
“And before that,” Massimo said, voice dropping, “your daughter threw the first couple of shots. Don’t think because I buried it, I forgot it,” Massimo continued. “I buried it for peace, for order. For the fact that once, your blood was tied to mine, we were friends and I thought perhaps we could let dignity do what common sense could not.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Bianca. A beautiful girl. A wasted warning. “She still didn’t give up…You had no more chips to bargain with and honestly, I was done holding Luca’s reins for your ungrateful fucked up self. You want Luca?” he said, eyes fixed on Enzo through the iron bars. “Then come get him. I dare you, Enzo.”
Enzo’s face remained cold. “You think you’re the only one with a devil for a son…”
Massimo’s mouth curved as he thought of Luca.
His son.
Massimo would never admit it aloud, but part of him understood too well. If anyone had dragged Carol into danger, there would not have been a conversation. There would have been smoke. “Come on, Enzo…Let’s stop measuring the size of our cocks and put it to work.”
(Brought to you by Jennifer Willard 2/3)