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“No,” I laugh. “Loreto and I got into a street fight with a few drunken losers leaving a bar one night in SoHo. One of the guys pulled a knife that gave me that scar, and your brother repaid him in kind by relieving him of an eye.”
“Wait, so it was literally just a street brawl with some drunk guys that gave you that scar?” she asks. “Not anything having to do with the mafia?”
“Nope.” I chuckle a little at the realization.
“But then what does that have to do with you becoming so powerful and wealthy?”
“Honestly, everything,” I answer. “It was after that night that I realized I could do anything I wanted to in this city. Loreto stitched me up over a few shots of whiskey, and the two of us swore that very night that we would always back each other up. After that, I started taking all the risks that helped me build my empire and amass my wealth. If anyone opposed me, your brother and I took them out of the picture. He helped me to protect what was mine until I became feared and respected enough to create my ownborgata. I worked hard and got my hands dirty, for many years. But I couldn’t have done it without Loreto. He was the catalyst who gave me the confidence to push me out of the gates when we were stupid kids running the streets.”
“And here I thought you were always just a cold, gruff troll,” Lara teases with a grin. “Granted, a very handsome troll.”
“What makes you think I’m not?” I banter back with her a bit.
“Because I can see you have a soft heart.”
“Oh?” I say, getting turned on by not only the emotional connectedness of the moment but also by how hot she looks fitted with weapons. “I can tell you what’snotsoft.” I reach out to take her hand and cup it against the swelling bulge in my pants. Her fingers immediately grasp around my hardening cock as Lara leans forward to kiss me. Then instead of putting more things on, we both start removing every article of clothing between us. I back her up to the wall and lift her hips onto my waist and as I drive my cock into her tight pussy. She digs her nails into my shoulders as she gasps. I pull out slightly before I thrust into her deeper and as I fuck her harder, she begins to moan as her eyes roll back. I’m so ravenous that I worry I’ll crush her against the wall with the weight of my body, but as her pussy throbs and squeezes my cock those worries are squelched. Her breasts bounce wildly around my face as I thrust with primal force.
I can feel the veins in my neck pulse as I grit my teeth. She wraps her legs around my waist tighter as I drive into her, and when she comes again her slick walls clench around me and I can’t hold off any longer. My orgasm rips through me as I keep her pinned up against the wall and unload all I have to give. Her legs quiver as she climaxes with me. I exhale loudly and lay my head against her breasts as she kisses the top of my head.
Now that we’re prepared for the battle in more ways than one, we put on our clothes. I fit her with a bulletproof vest and load her gun for her. When we leave the room and walk back out into the rest of the apartment, fully geared and ready to go—still amped up on adrenaline and residual shockwaves of carnal instinct—I call my entire crew into a meeting. Once my wholeborgatais assembled, I bring in one more person, an Italian priest who has been a longtime friend of the family. “I know this is rushed and probably not at all what you envisioned as a little girl when you fantasized about your wedding day,” I say to Lara as the others filter into my large living room. “But I want you to marry me now. I want you under the protection of entireborgatenetwork.”
“How can I refuse such a romantic proposal,” she says with a laugh. At least she’s taking it all with a grain of salt now. It’s a one-eighty from her previous stubborn-headed protesting.
There, in front of my entire crew, the priest marries us in a short ceremony that cuts straight to the chase. Now, Lara is officially mine, and under the total protection of every member of my crew. “I’ll give you the ceremony you deserve when this is all over,” I whisper to her as I kiss the side of her cheek. Then, without taking any time to bask in the glow of being newlyweds, my crew and I ready for our fight. I already know that Valentino is ready and waiting for us to attack. He knows we aren’t just going to sit by and forget about Loreto.
I meet Valentino and his men right out in the open in the middle of the night on the streets of the sleeping, deserted Hell’s Kitchen. Bloody battles like this aren’t usually held out in plain sight, even in the wee hours. Usually, there are assassinations and colorful, untraceable poisonings behind closed doors. But this time, the rules are getting thrown out again becausethis ends now.
Lara fights alongside me, holding her own as I keep a tight watch over her. She’s fast and has good aim with her gun. Even though I don’t see her kill anyone yet, she’s managed to badly injure a few. My revolver punches holes in several of Valentino’s guys. Rex covers me as Matteo and I mow through the crowd. I want to get close enough to Valentino to put a bullet in his head myself. My crew enjoys the melee fighting. In fact, several of them are hooting and hollering as they throw small Molotov cocktails into the mass of men.
The streets fill with smoke and there’s the sound of muffled shots being fired. The air thickens with the metallic scent of blood, and I can see old women in the apartments above, shutting their windows at the sound of the men in the street shouting and groaning in pain. We’ve never had a fight like this before. For a moment, I think we might get interrupted when I see a patrol car rolling slowly buy with its lights off. But when it keeps on passing us by, it’s obvious it’s just one of Valentino’s crooked buddies from the Upper East Side, probably ensuring that no actual decent cops come down this way to interfere. But even with all of the cops trying to tip the scales of this fight in Valentino’s favor, my soldiers still gain the upper hand. He might have half the police force on the take, but it still isn’t enough to keep Valentino safe from me.
I called Loreto before the fight began to beg him to steer clear of this street tonight. I didn’t want to see him get mixed up in the chaos and injured. I knew he would have to feign loyalty to his father but his heart would be pulled to fight for me and Lara. Just as I feared, I see Loreto running towards Lara and me with a gun in hand, ready to defend us. Luckily it looks like the fight is favorably reaching an end, so my goal of keeping Lara and Loreto safe seems promising. But right before the victory is officially ours, the police chief who I met earlier in the week at Valentino’s house pulls a pistol and aims to shoot me in the chest before I can see it coming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see only Loreto’s response to what’s happening. My best friend runs out in front of me, taking the hit and collapsing to the ground. For a moment, it feels as if the entire world is frozen.
“No!”I shout through gritted teeth as I try to catch him before he hits the ground. But I’m too far away to reach him in time before his head makes a sickening crack against the concrete.
Lara looks over quickly in response to my scream, and as soon as she sees her brother she runs toward him, ignoring every other danger unfolding around her. I cover her, firing shots at the men who try to reach out their knives to try and cut her down, and run to follow Lara to the place where she drops down onto her knees beside her brother. Her arm is bleeding down the side of her shirt and crimson drips from her wrist, likely a strike someone was able to get in despite my best efforts, but it’s only a minor injury. I’ve taken a few cuts to my arms and face, and two of my men have suffered minor bullet wounds. But no one has been mortally wounded until now.
“Why did he do that?” I growl angrily in order to push down the emotions that threaten to overtake me.
Rex sees instantly what has happened, and he directs my crew to shield Lara and I as we try to drag Loreto off to safety. But the bullet hit Loreto straight through the chest, right through his heart, and the blood pouring out of him is creating a pool around us. “We can’t move him,” I say as a look of panic infiltrates Lara’s eyes. “He’s not going to make it.” I nearly choke on the words, and seeing her terrified, gutted reaction is almost more than I can take. Loreto is the whole reason we’re here fighting this war. Rescuing him from Valentino is the whole point of any of this. Why did he have to jump out in front of me?
Lara holds her brother’s head cradled in her lap as she cries, her tears falling down upon his face. “I love you,” Loreto manages to whisper out to her as blood trickles from the sides of his mouth.
“I love you too,” she sobs, clenching his body tightly to her with utter disregard for the drenching blood that soaks into her lap.
I want to say something too. I want to thank Loreto for being more like a brother to me than a best friend, but there isn’t time. He’s gone before I can even open my mouth. Lara’s wails of grief permeate the night air in the city and echo against the tall buildings surrounding us. The sounds of fighting are drowned out by it. And I too am blinded by grief. But even more than that, I’m blinded by rage.
I stand up and charge at the police chief who fired the shot, shoving my revolver into his temple and blowing his brains out at such close proximity that I can feel the splatter on my cheek. I hope I look like a terrible demon coming for him as I wipe my face with my sleeve so that I can see and head straight for Valentino who was hiding out inside his vehicle until he saw Loreto die. Apparently the coward was watching from an unmarked car to see which way the battle would go, and made Loreto be his driver. He was hoping to stay hidden, but when Loreto jumped out of the car to run towards Lara and me, he emerged to take the driver’s seat, likely so he could slink away if he found himself on the losing team. Lara’s ghostly cries probably garnered his attention to the scene where his son lay dying. I’m sure he only paused for a moment but that’s all I need. I rush towards him and push him down to the ground to pin him beneath me as I lift my gun. I want to see the fear in his eyes as I kill him.
But I’m not the only one being driven by sheer fury and vengeance right now. Before I can pull the trigger, Lara is beside me. She stands over her father, aiming the gun squarely between his eyes, and fires the shot. I can see by the look on her face that the glorious feeling of freedom and revenge she’s been wanting against her father all these years is overshadowed by her feelings of loss for Loreto. After Valentino’s men see that he’s been vanquished, they all slink away quickly. It’s clear their loyalty was weak. That plays to our favor, as the fighting comes to an almost abrupt halt and I’m able to focus on Loreto and Lara. After I assess the status of my men and make sure all of them are able to walk away from this fight with only minor injuries, I instruct Matteo to have Loreto’s body carried to St. John’s Cemetery to prepare for the funeral and a proper mafia burial. After Lara fired at her father, her knees buckled and she collapsed to the ground. Her whole body is drained and limp so I scoop her up and motion for Rex to bring the car around so that I can lay her into the back seat and drive her home.
My heart is heavy and seeing my best friend die in front of me has sapped my strength, but I muster enough energy to carry Lara from the car up to my room where I set her tenderly on my bed. After I fill the bathtub with warm water and Epson salt, I remove her clothes as she lays motionless, staring blankly at the ceiling. I don’t push her to talk because I know she’s in shock. Instead, I carry her over to the tub and lower her carefully into the water. I fold a towel and place it under her head and as she relaxes into it, her eyes begin to close. I stay beside her and hold her hand as she soaks. Once I see the tension dissipate from her shoulders, neck and jaw, I pick her up and place her on the bath blanket I unfolded on the bed. I wrap her up tight and pull her head to my chest. I keep her pressed up to my heartbeat and hold her there for the rest of the night. I know she needs me to hold her without letting go…and I can admit to myself that I need it too. We’re both distraught with grief and all we can do is cling to one another.
For the next few days, Mateo and Rex take care of the day-to-day operations of theborgataso that I can tend to Lara while making arrangements for Loreto’s funeral. She still hasn’t spoken much but I manage to get some caponata and blackberry tea into her occasionally. Every night I hold her on my chest and she eventually falls asleep, sometimes after she cries herself to sleep, but either way I don’t let go of her the whole night. I stay with her until she wakes up each morning to make sure she knows that she’s not alone.
The day before the funeral, I call Sabine and ask her to make a visit. I thought maybe having another woman to talk to might give Lara a change of scenery. When she arrives, Lara is sitting in the study looking out the window, which is how she’s spent most of her days since Loreto died. I didn’t tell Lara that Sabine was stopping by, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered by the surprise visit. In fact, her face brightens a little when Sabine sits beside her.
“I brought you some more blackberry tea,” Sabine says to her. Lara musters a momentary smile and thank-you before Sabine continues. “I also brought you a very special book.” Lara looks at her with a curious expression and Sabine says, “The night you snuck out of my bookshop, your brother Loreto came back to thank me for taking care of you. He was worried about the ensuing battle that was brewing and asked me to keep something safe for him in case things didn’t go as planned.”
