the death penalty

FRANCESCA

MY GUN IS aimed at his chest, right above his heart, pulsing with life. One bullet is all it would take to end the mighty Don, just like he ended his rival’s wife.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my eyes wide.

Dr. Colombo is standing behind him, her hands shaking.

Alessandro and Enrico, Antonio’s consigliere and head bodyguard, stride in and grab the doctor, tossing her to the floor and pointing a gun at her.

I glance back at Antonio, who’s studying me from head to toe. He steps forward. The gun in my hand doesn’t lower, even though I know I’m safe.

He doesn’t seem to care, even when the barrel of the gun touches his chest. He gently pushes my hand away.

“Are you okay, ~bambola~?” he asks softly, his hand cupping my cheek.

I lick my lips and nod, tossing the gun into the sink. I want to hug him, but I know he might not be comfortable with Alessandro and Enrico watching.

Antonio takes off his blazer and wraps it around my shoulders. It’s too big for me, but it makes me feel safe and comfortable.

His musky cologne surrounds me and I sigh. This is enough for now. But the relief is short-lived when I see Angelina’s body on the ground. I quickly push past him to check if she’s alive.

“Did you kill her?” I shriek.

~God, no, no, no!~

This is a nightmare. Instead of resolving our differences, Antonio has made things worse! And she’s pregnant, for God’s sake.

“What did you do?” I shout in despair, clutching the collar of his navy blue shirt, forgetting about the two men in the room with us.

He grips my wrists tightly. “Everybody, out. Now.” His voice is low, but everyone immediately obeys and shuts the door behind them.

He gently pushes me against the wall. I close my eyes, feeling tears well up. “Do you realize how much worse you’ve made things by killing Vincent’s wife? Now we’re definitely going to war.” I sniffle.

“She’s not dead, Francesca,” he says slowly.

“What?” I glance at her limp body on the floor. She looks dead. “Oh, but she’s pregnant. What if something happens to her child?”

“I sedated her, nothing more. I know I can’t kill her and I know she’s innocent,” he says.

We stare at each other for a moment. His dark eyes meet my hazel ones and they soften. “Come here,” he says. He doesn’t give me a chance to pull away, not that I would.

He holds me delicately in his arms, cradling my body.

I shudder and hug him back instantly, letting out silent tears. I’m not weak, but I didn’t realize how much I needed this. It feels so good to know that he’s mine and only mine.

No one can take him away from me. We belong to each other, and he’s always going to be there for me. He’s my solace.

“I didn’t expect you here,” I mumble into his shirt.

He kisses the top of my head before burying his face in the crook of my neck. His hand pushes my hair back as he drops a light kiss on my throat.

I lick my lips, running my fingers through his dark hair.

“You said I wasn’t showing any fatherly traits,” he replies.

My heart swells and I smile. He’s here for me. He’s here for our child. He’s made us his priority. Not his work.

“What about your business stuff?” I ask, not wanting to be selfish. I know he has work.

“Family comes first and you are family. You are my wife and you deserve everything you want.” He looks away and then meets my eyes with a heated gaze. “And you want me.”

I raise my eyebrows and grin. “That’s a very high opinion you have of yourself.”

“So you’re saying you don’t?”

I tilt my head, a smile playing on my lips. “I never said I didn’t.”

He looks away so I won’t see the smile on his lips, but I catch it. I cup his cheek and pull him toward me.

“I’m kind of wanting a kiss right now,” I murmur, my cheeks flushing.

He chuckles, surprise in his eyes. “How about we save that for tonight? We have Vincent’s issue to deal with right now.”

I pout. “That sucks. I was hoping Vincent wouldn’t come between us again.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

I wrap my arms around his neck. “Even yesterday, all of our conversations mentioned his name at least once.”

My husband frowns. “You’re right, actually.”

I grin.

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Francesca, are you sure you have—?”

“Forgiven you?” I tighten my grip around his neck. “I have,” I say, honestly.

I’ve forgiven him because today I realized that if he hadn’t done what he did, then I wouldn’t have been able to look Angelina in the eye and talk to her without trembling.

He’s taken away my fear of facing a gun. It’s wrong in so many ways, but since when have I lived in a right world?

And right now, with him by my side, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I believe him when he says that he’s only mine—that he’s never going to cheat. He swore an oath, and oaths mean everything to him. His promises are never false.

“Francesca, I also need you to understand that everything we had before that stunt I pulled was real. Everything was real. From my apology to us making love, I meant it.

“Trust doesn’t come easy to me, but I’m trying. I trust you, ~bambola~, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, other than my brothers.

“He’s telling me he needs me to know that,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper in my ears.

I pull him into a hug without a second thought. He doesn’t realize how much those words mean to me. Every night, I’ve been questioning if what we have is real. Hearing him say it out loud is a relief.

I know words aren’t his thing, but they’re mine, and he’s starting to get that.

“I want to go home,” I mumble into his chest. “Take me home.”

He nods. “Why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll handle all this?”

I glance at Angelina. “What about her?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he assures me.

I shake my head. “She didn’t mean any harm. She came here to tell me that Vincent didn’t kill Raffaello. When Raffaello died, Vincent was in Italy looking for his sister.

“When he got a tip that she was in our territory, Vincent must’ve sent some guys, but he didn’t have Raffaello killed.”

“What makes you think she’s telling the truth?” he asks.

“Because when I met Vincent that day, he reminded me a lot of you. The same aggression, the same power. The only difference is that he’s rash and you’re more cautious.

“You both are so similar, but different at the same time. I think that if it was the other way around, you wouldn’t have wanted that criminal dead by anyone else’s hand.

“Vincent’s revenge was stolen from him and he’s pissed about that. His anger is justified, Antonio. Think about it. For me, please.”

Antonio stares at me blankly as I finish my rant. “What else did she say?” he finally asks.

“Angelina thinks that Raffaello was killed by Luciano Lambardi to start a war between us,” I tell him.

“Luciano does have a lot to gain from this,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve considered it.

“All of this could have been staged. Mya’s betrayal, the attack on you, the fucking FBI coming after you, and then blaming it all on the Bianchis. Fuck!” he swears.

Antonio pulls away from me and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If Luciano is behind this then I’m not going to fucking spare him.

“All this time, he was trying to start a fight between us so he could use it for his own gain. Someone sold out Valentina to Raffaello. If we find out who, then we find out the real guy.”

“If Mya was alive, we could’ve asked her who sent her to attack us. What about Raffaello’s girlfriend? What was her name? Rose? She might know something.” I sigh.

Too bad Antonio probably killed her too.

My husband freezes and looks at me with a twinkle in his eyes. He then glances down at Angelina’s sleeping body.

“Alessandro! Enrico!” he yells, opening the door.

Both men rush inside.

“Yes, Don?” Alessandro says, glancing at me for a second.

“Nobody finds out about Angelina being here. Take her out the back door and into the other warehouse. Treat her like a guest but don’t let her escape,” he orders.

“What about the doctor?” Enrico questions.

“Kill her.”

I cough and all the attention turns to me. “I think Stefano knew about it as well,” I whisper.

“He didn’t tell me there were two people when he brought me in here. Angelina was hiding in the bathroom.”

“Kill him too,” Antonio improvises.

“He didn’t mean any harm. I think death is a bit excessive,” I mumble quietly, looking down so it doesn’t seem like I’m questioning his authority in front of his men.

“He let Angelina keep a gun. He saw danger and thought it would be okay,” Antonio explains. “Stefano is not the authority here. He had no right to drag you into danger obliviously.”

I nod. Did I just sign Stefano’s death warrant?

“His death will be a fucking example to the other men,” Antonio seethes. He’s angry.

No, more than angry; he’s raging. Antonio isn’t one to swear or show emotions in front of people.

“Alessandro, make sure that woman sleeps off the sedation and make sure she stays safe. Protect her with your life.”

“I will, Don.”

Antonio grabs my hand and pulls me back to him.

“What are you going to do to her?”

“Don’t worry about it, ~bambola~. We need her. She’s safe.”

And that gives me peace. The moment we pass Stefano, he gives me an apologetic look.

Antonio doesn’t spare him a glance. He acts oblivious and I do the same. Stefano was stupid for confirming what he did.

“If Angelina doesn’t come down, Stefano will get suspicious,” I point out quietly.

“Stefano is still loyal to the Family. He wouldn’t say anything and he’ll be shut down before he tries anything, ~bambola~.”

“Then is it necessary to kill him?” I ask.

Antonio opens the door for me and helps me get in. Fabio sits in the passenger seat of Antonio’s car. He gives me a nod through the rear window and I return the nod with my own.

“He broke the code and there is only one penalty.”

Death.

“What happens next?” I change the topic. I don’t want the guilt to settle in.

“We go home and you rest while I deal with this,” he says. When he sees me open my mouth to speak, he places a finger on my lips.

“Quiet. The case is closed. The judge has announced the penalty.”

I smile. “Yes, Your Honor.”

I’m glad for the partition separating us from the others. I don’t want anyone other than me seeing this side of him. It’s ours and it will always be ours.

He’s mine and mine alone.

His lips then curve into a smile. “Shut up, ~bambola~.”