I don’t know what’s been done with my brother’s body. Sonny’s men have handled the ghoulish task of collecting the dead.
There was a time when I thought if my twin died then my soul would split in two and I’d never be whole again. But when my husband killed him a few feet from where I’m standing right now, all I felt was relief.
A man’s cough echoes from the opposite hallway. Sonny Vitale lumbers into sight with a sling on his heavily bandaged arm.
He stops short when he sees me standing here. “How is he?”
“He’s not good,” I admit.
Sonny’s chin quivers and he looks down. “Right.” He sniffs. “I’ll give the family some space. You’ll let me know if they need anything?”
“You should go in, Sonny. You’re as good as family.”
He’s a hard man who has seen and done a lot in his life but he gives me a bashful smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
I tip my head toward the room where all the Tempesta men stand guard over their king. “Go on. They’ll be glad to see you.”
He starts to shuffle into the room but then pauses. “He’s hanging out in the library,” he says. “I figured he can’t hurt anything in there but I’m still not giving him his fucking phone or his gun back.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll check on him.”
Sonny frowns. “I ought to go with you. Or you can wait for Johnny and Artie.”
“I’ll be fine with him alone. I think he proved himself today.”
Sonny grunts like he’s not too sure about this but he doesn’t put up an argument.
So much has happened since dinner that I could swear it ought to be daylight but all the windows are still dark and dawn doesn’t break for another few hours.
When I see the pine garlands strung across the walls, I’m stunned to remember it’s Christmas morning. I’d nearly forgotten about the holiday.
Angelo is seated in a reclining chair with his injured leg stretched out in front of him while he grumpily thumbs through a thick leather bound book plucked from a nearby shelf.
He looks up when I walk into the room. “This bullshit doesn’t make any sense.”
I squint at the title embossed on the spine. “It’s The Greatest Works of William Shakespeare.”
Angelo shrugs, unimpressed.
Julian told me that once Angelo escaped from the house he ran straight toward the Tempestas. Injured and unarmed, Angelo ran to my husband anyway, screaming all the while that he needed to save me.
When I think of that terrifying final confrontation with my twin, there’s one inescapable conclusion. If Angelo hadn’t been here, I might not be alive.
“You’re going to be okay,” I say, gesturing to his leg and forcing some positivity into my voice.
Angelo sets the book down and turns haunted eyes to my face. “Willyoube okay, Cecilia?”
I rub a hand over my belly. My arm still hurts from Gabriel’s brutal grip. I’m sure there will be bruises. “Eventually,” I tell him.
He sighs and the lines on his face deepen with grief. I’m not the only one dealing with a crushing loss. For many years Angelo and Gabriel have been partners in crime, thick as thieves. Angelo has lost both his brother and his best friend.
“I’ll deal with the old man,” he says with unconcealed anger. “Don’t you worry about that.”
“One thing at a time,” I say. “You still have a bullet in your thigh.” I scan the shelves until I find the book I’m looking for and then pluck it out. “Here. You might find this more fun than Shakespeare.”
Angelo looks at the cover. “The Godfather.So they made a book out of the movie, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say with a straight face. “Do you need anything?”
