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“Time will tell,” I grunt, still furious. After the initial triumph of confronting Molinaro, today has gone to shit.
“What could he possibly have up his sleeve now that he’s dead?”
That’s what I want to know.
I rub my neck, cracking it from side to side.
This is not over yet.
Hours later, I’m sitting on my terrace, looking at the stars.
After setting fire to the abandoned farm and destroying all evidence of us ever having been there, we flew back to Sicily.
My men are still searching for Ella in Switzerland and Austria, but until we have more than just guesses, there is no point in joining them.
There are no new clues, and while we could confirm Freemont’s theory that Ella was in Austria, she’s disappeared again. How does she do that?
I’ve read through the communications between Freemont and Rhia, and she has the shits with the lack of results. How is it that Ella keeps evading the best hackers and investigators? How do we all come up empty-handed? Is she changing her look every week? But even if she changed hair styles and eye color, facial recognition should be able to identify her. Why isn’t it?
Angel, where are you?
Surely, she can’t be doing this on her own. But who’s helping her?
Mateo steps onto the terrace, carrying two glasses of whiskey.
Handing me one, he studies me. “Why aren’t you looking happier? We finally avenged our father and rid ourselves of Molinaro. We need to celebrate this. We should head to one of our clubs.”
“You go. You can celebrate for the both of us.”
He sighs and sits down. “What’s going on, Tiero? You’re thinking about Molinaro’s last words?”
“Hard not to. But what could he possibly have up his sleeve? And where did he hide that cyanide capsule? He was searched when we caught him. Did one of our guys give it to him?”
“All our guys there were vetted. Maybe he pulled some spy shit and had a hidden pocket in his pants or shoes or God knows where. When he was on the ground, he probably realized there was no way out. Who wouldn’t pick a quick death over hours of agony?”
“Men of honor.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. It’s as infuriating as when Ella does it.
“What else is bugging you?” my brother asks.
I don’t answer. I’m not sure how to.
Mateo doesn’t have the same problem. He’s in tune with me more than anyone except Ella.
“I get you’re unhappy that Ella hasn’t been found yet, but it will happen. She can’t hide forever,” he assures me.
I let out a long sigh, swirling the ice in my glass.
“What is it? Spit it out.”
“I can’t put my finger on it,” I reply. “For days now, I’ve been feeling restless. And it’s getting worse. I want to crawl out of my skin. I’m not sure what it means. But I know it’s Ella.” I put down my glass and get up. Pacing the terrace, I rub my neck and squeeze my shoulders to ease the tension.
“Her biggest threat has been eliminated. Molinaro was brazen enough to go after her. His death serves as a reminder to our enemies to stay away from Ella or face our wrath. She’s untouchable, bro, even if she’s not with you right now. Nobody will be stupid enough to go after her. Especially not now that we’ve doubled our empire.”
Mateo is always the optimist. Even growing up in our dark world hasn’t killed it. But he can be the jovial one, not carrying the responsibility of being the boss or having lost his woman.
“I don’t think so. She’s the perfect leverage against me. Somebody will make use of that before too long. I will move heaven and hell to get her back. Until then, we need to eliminate anybody who could be a threat.”
