Page 99 of No Greater Oblivion

24

NEITHER GUILTY NOR INNOCENT

Alejandro

The Past

December

The sound of an opening door echoes across the otherwise empty basilica.

Candlelight flickers across the nativity scene on display and the empty manger reminds patrons of Christ’s eminent birth. Otherwise, statues of the Three Kings, the Virgin Mary, and her husband Joseph fill the stable. Real straw lines the bottom and holly and garland are scattered atop the roof. Few things on earth come close in splendor and majesty to a Catholic Christmas. My sense of faith hasn’t been as strong in recent years but the cruelty of the world hasn’t beat the wonder and awe out of me yet.

A woman reaches the end of the aisle and genuflects before the sanctuary. I don’t turn to look at her but I recognize Regina’s veil and the scent of her perfume—sharp and visceral, unearthing decade old memories I once thought long forgotten.

She lowers herself into the seat beside me and doesn’t speak.

“Thank you…for being so punctual.”

She squeezes her hands tight in her lap before releasing them. Regina raises her chin and lifts the veil from her face. “I only came for Sandro.”

“Yes, you were always a devoted sister that way.”

“Please. I’m begging you,” she pleads quietly. “If you ever cared about me, if you ever loved me…stop. Sandro’s ready to call a truce.”

“A truce? After only four months? I’ve only just begun.”

“You have my word. He’ll never go after Dahlia again⁠—”

“So he admits it.” I turn in my seat, interrupting her. “He set the fire in the lounge.”

She presses her lips together.

I change tactics. “How’s your sister?”

A beat passes before she finds her voice. “Monse’s fine.”

“With your brother, I assume? She was always unfailingly loyal to him. In fact, isn’t she the one who told Sandro about us?” I ask. “She’s the reason he showed up at our wedding…in this very basilica.”

“I didn’t come here to reminisce, Alejandro. You’ve made your point. Almost all our capos are either dead or have turned against us. No one wants to do business with us and the SVA has intercepted every last one of our shipments since September.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you’re doing it but we are a breath away from collapse.”

“Then go legitimate.”

“We can’t. You know we can’t. He’s taken out loans against the business to try to keep everything else afloat. If we try to go legitimate now, it could bankrupt the investment firm. Not to mention leave us and our territory vulnerable.”

“Sandro should’ve thought of that before he put a target on Dahlia’s back,” I inform her. “I’m not stopping. And I won’t until there’s nothing left of him. If I were you, I’d grab my sister and run back to Corsica. Cut my losses and try to live out the rest of my days in peace.”

“That’s never going to happen.”

“Fine. You can stay here and suffer the consequences…Montserrat.”

The color drains from her face.

She bolts to her feet but I catch her by the back of the neck. Removing the syringe from my pocket, I ease the needle into the first pulsing vein I see. I cover her mouth and she screams against my palm, clawing against my arm until she’s eventually released. Montserrat rushes out of the pew and onto the church aisle but the sedative she’s been given is powerful. She barely makes it five steps before she starts to lose balance.

“Do you remember the Christmas we all spent together in London when Regina and I were still in university?” I tuck the used syringe into my pocket. “It was when she first introduced us to each other.”

Montserrat stumbles and catches herself on a nearby pew. The veil falls from where it’s pinned into her silky hair and tumbles to the ground.