revelations

FRANCESCA

I SUCK IN a breath as the cool towel touches my skin.

“Almost done,” he whispers, cleaning me up. I feel like a delicate doll in his arms.

“Talk to me, ~bambola~,” he murmurs in my ear, tossing the towel aside. “Why are you here?”

I shiver. “I...I just...” I want to kick myself for stuttering. There’s no reason to be nervous, especially not around him.

His arms tighten around me and I instantly relax. He toys with the dress clinging to my stomach before his hand drifts down to my inner thigh again.

I put my hand over his, stopping him. I can feel him against my lower back.

“Antonio, stop. We need to talk,” I say firmly and he finally gives up on the idea of another round.

“Last time you said that, you wanted to see that nosy friend of yours,” he points out. I tilt my head back and kiss his jaw.

“You know I haven’t spoken to her since she tried to meddle in our business. This isn’t about her. It’s about Alessia,” I say, moving to sit across from him on the couch. I’m serious.

“What about Alessia?” he asks immediately.

I swallow. “Antonio, I overheard her talking to someone. She sounded nervou—”

“Sweetheart, get to the point.”

I purse my lips. “She’s in love with someone.”

His eyes narrow at me. It’s a warning. “You’re accusing a mafiosa of infidelity under the code. You know the penalty for that.”

I nod. “I know what it means to slander a girl’s reputation in the Family. Honestly, I would have handled this myself if she wasn’t seeing Valerio Bianchi.”

“This is my sister you’re talking about.” His lips tighten.

“I heard her say his name was Matteo. Probably a fake name to stay in our territory. I asked Fabio to look into him.

“Matteo’s pictures matched the ones I saw in Italy when I visited your office. You remember that, right? Pietro showing you the pictures of the Bianchi Family members?” I explain.

Antonio just stares at me. It makes me uneasy.

“But you already knew about this, didn’t you?” I ask.

His silence is all the answer I need.

“Are you using Alessia like you used me?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

He’s on his feet in an instant, grabbing my elbow. It’s not rough, but I know he wouldn’t hesitate to leave a mark.

“Don’t compare her to us. Alessia is a nobody. I don’t give a damn about her, and I don’t need her. But I need you, and you know who we are.

“I can’t be with a woman I can’t trust. That test wasn’t just for you, Francesca.”

“But I’m not just any woman. I’m your wife, and instead of pulling that stunt, you should have just asked me.

“Honor forbids you from doing that to me, and you’re right. The test wasn’t for me. It was for you and your peace of mind. You didn’t care how I would feel.

“You were only concerned about your distrust and your paranoia, even if they consumed me too. You wanted me to always feel like I was on the verge of losing you so I wouldn’t do anything to upset you.

“So I wouldn’t leave you. I’m not blind, Antonio. I see your hidden motives,” I snap.

He glares down at me. “You think too much, ~bambola~. And if you have such a problem with me, why are you still trying in this relationship?”

“Because I can see that you’re trying. You want me to stand by your side willingly, but you can’t let go of your paranoia. I understand it takes time, but you need to stop playing games with me.

“I don’t care what you do outside. Kill people, torture them, whatever. Just don’t bring it home. It’s a matter of honor, they say. I’ve never been able to find that, myself.

“I’ve always given myself to the Family, but even I’m tired. If you don’t start being honest with me, there will come a day when I give up.

“If there’s something you don’t want to tell me, just say so. But don’t try to trick me into believing something else, like you just did.”

His eyebrow twitches, and if I hadn’t been so close, I wouldn’t have noticed the surprised look he quickly hides.

“I should kill you for knowing me too well,” he hisses, his grip on my elbow tightening. “I really should.”

“Telling me that gives me an advantage over you.”

He takes a deep breath. “You told me to trust you.”

My breath catches. He’s already made me weak again. This isn’t fair. “Then believe me when I tell you that you might be making the wrong enemies.

“By letting the Bianchi family stay here freely, you’re playing a dangerous game. When Vincent finds out, it won’t be pretty. His family has to leave our territory, no matter what it takes.”

He purses his lips and cups my cheek. “~Bambola~, we don’t know who our real enemy is right now.

“Vincent Bianchi is blaming Luciano Lambardi, but all the evidence points to the Bianchi Family, not the Lambardi Family. It’s complicated.”

“Luciano Lambardi is old, which means he’s also more experienced than either of you guys.

“I’m telling you, he thinks he’s better than you. If you’re going to take him on, use that arrogance against him. He’ll underestimate you,” I advise him.

“And what makes you so sure?”

I shrug. “I watched him at the meeting. He showed up late, which tells me he thinks he’s above everyone else. Untouchable, even.

“He’s not scared of any Family complications because he’s confident he can take them down. Except for us, of course.

“If we go to war with the Bianchis over Angelina, we’re playing right into the Lambardi Family’s hands.

“I don’t think he expected Angelina to come over and talk to us, or to me specifically, but she did. If Lambardi planned this, he’s smart. And to outsmart smart people, you have to change the game.

“We’re going to end up fighting someone, either Lambardi or Bianchi, and if we’re lucky, they’ll both go down.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” His lips curl into a small smile. “I knew I made the right choice when I picked you as my partner.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean? Our marriage was arranged.”

He chuckles softly. “It was, if you don’t count the first time I saw you at church with your mom.”

“I don’t understand,” I mumble. I can’t remember ever seeing him before.

“Of course, I wasn’t supposed to be there, but I was. And I saw you. It’s as simple as that. You were too radiant to ignore. You still are, which makes you perfect.”

I catch my breath. “You sound, what’s the word—whipped.” I tease him to distract myself from the pounding in my chest.

He smiles. “No, I just thought you were beautiful and someone I could see myself marrying. You radiate beauty, elegance, and class. I couldn’t ignore that or let it go.”

He leaves me speechless again. I try to say something but I’m numb. I’m not used to his flirting.

He simply kisses the back of my hand. “Come here.”

I take his hand as he leads me to a seemingly ordinary painting. I push down the fluttering in my chest and focus on the image of an ace card.

If he’s showing me this, it must be important. He lets go of my hand, lifts the frame, and sets it down.

There’s a metal safe embedded in the wall.

“What’s this?” I ask, stepping closer.

“You’ll see.”

He enters an eight-digit password and opens the gray box with a small ding.

“But there’s only a key inside?” I ask, surprised. I was expecting a pile of gold and jewelry. But then again, why would he keep jewelry here? Maybe documents, but not a key.

“Exactly,” he says, picking up the small steel key.

I blink in confusion. “What’s the key for?”

“Patience is key, Francesca. I don’t remember you being this impatient before,” he says.

“I am patient. You’re just taking too long.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Of course.”

We stand in front of the bookcase behind his desk. He slides a shelf full of books down. I notice they’re law books.

There must be another room behind this door, like in the movies—a secret passage.

“You’re not going to ask what’s behind there?” he asks, pausing in his movements.

I shrug. “You’ll show me anyway.”

He shakes his head, but I can see the corners of his lips curving. He looks beautiful.

Antonio hesitates for a moment, as if he’s wondering whether he’s doing the right thing.

“You can trust me,” I say.

“Just don’t get scared…” His voice trails off before he shakes his head in frustration. I know he cares about me.

“I trust you,” I say. And that’s enough for us.

He pushes back the bookshelf, revealing another room. My eyes nearly pop out of my head as bile rises in my throat.

The metallic smell of blood and bile fills my nostrils, making me want to vomit.

I grip my husband’s hand tighter. “I-is that M-Mya?”

Her pale, frail body is as thin as a stick. I can see her ribs through her shirt. The food on her plate is barely touched and she lies lifelessly on the concrete floor.

She looks completely lifeless, and if it weren’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest, I would think she was.

“What happened to her?” I ask.

Antonio tightens his grip on my hand. “She’s the evidence we need.”

“But what happened to her?” I ask again.

There are no windows in the room, so it’s dark. The only light comes from the door we entered through.

The only thing in the room is our old maid, lying on the floor in a torn blouse and a pair of dirty shorts, as if she doesn’t have another pair to change into.

She looks much older than she really is. Her hair is shaved and her skin is pale. Her arm is covered in needle marks. She’s on drugs.

It’s too much for me. Even though she wanted me dead, I’m not cruel. What has she been through? “I need to leave.”

He walks me out with a small nod and turns to me with a somber expression after locking the shelf with the key. “Only you, Alessandro, Pietro, and I know about this right now.

“If anything happens to me, your word will be final. Promise me you’ll look after and lead the Family.”

Before I can respond, his lips meet mine as he grips my hair tightly. I shudder. Nothing is going to happen to him. Nothing can. I pull away from his grasp.

“Anything can happe—”

I cut him off. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“We’re not Romeo and Juliet,” he says flatly.

“Romeo and Juliet died,” I remind him, confused.

“Oh.” His eyes widen slightly. “Okay then.”

I can’t help but laugh, but then I remember Mya. “I thought Mya was dead. Why is she still around?”

“Because I didn’t kill her,” he replies.

I give him a look. “Yeah, I just saw her.”

“There are two main reasons for this. The first is that I had a hunch we’d need her again. She didn’t like to talk when questioned.

“Besides Alessia, she didn’t have any weaknesses. Using Alessia too much wasn’t an option, so getting her hooked on drugs seemed like a solution,” he explains.

“Drugs are illegal! It’s against ~omertà~,” I protest.

“I couldn’t torture her.” He looks away. “She looks too much like Rosemary.”

We fall into silence. I wrap my arms around him, pressing kisses to his chest. It can’t be easy to constantly see the woman who betrayed him—to still have a connection to her.

He holds onto me tightly and I let him. His pain is palpable and his silence scares me more than what he did to Mya.

I feel guilty for feeling this way; for caring more about the person causing harm than the one being harmed, but I can’t help it.

He’s becoming my lifeline, my only hope. He’s filling the space that only Arianna used to occupy. He’s filling the hole in my heart.

My husband steps back, turning away from me. I give him the space he needs. A mob boss wouldn’t take pride in admitting weakness.

I understand that, even though I want him back in my arms.

“It was information for drugs. That’s all,” he finally says. He lights up a cigarette.

“Why is her head shaved?” It seems strange.

“I had to let her go once she was addicted, but she couldn’t quit. She chose to keep using and when the money ran out, she made some bad choices.

“Coming back to me was her last option.”

I swallow hard. It’s harsh. “Did she say anything?”

With a smile, he meets my eyes and pulls me closer by my waist. I’m surprised and wrinkle my nose at the smell of the cigarette. He just laughs.

“She mentioned the Lambardis, Doll. That’s all she said.”