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I had been in constant contact with my soldiers while on the way to the airfield and they were also heading back to Chicago.
“What’s the current situation?” asked Alessio, as he saw me hang up the phone to one of my soldiers.
I had to force the words out. “Three of our soldiers are dead, plus another two are seriously injured. Fuck, the Società bastards tricked us. They probably planned all along to kill us.”
Juliana was still unconscious as I got out of the SUV. I roughly scooped her body into my arms and pulled her against my chest. Her limbs were soft and pliant against my hard body as I carried her onto the private jet, her face with its translucent skin looking serene like an angel.
Goddamnit, she had been the perfect screen to hide the Società’s deadly plan behind. She had been their Trojan horse, and she had been part of this elaborate ploy to lie to me and deceive me.
The supposed wedding had been a cunning plan to get me and my brothers all away from the safety and protection of our home city.
As soon as I had put her in her seat, I went over to check on Debi. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and I felt my heart ache that she’d had to witness this ‘bloody wedding’ today. In our world, bloody weddings were rare but they existed—no one expected bloodshed at a Mafia wedding, but sometimes it was unavoidable when one side betrayed the other.
Debi was fourteen and I wished I could protect her forever. “Hey, shortcake, it’s going to be alright.” I held her in my arms, letting her cry against my chest. “It’ll take more than a few bullets to get rid of me. We’re okay now and I’m going to get you home. You’re safe, we all are, I promise.”
“I was so scared, Marco. I saw blood pouring out of one of the soldiers. He looked as though he might die. I just don’t get why they did that,” she sobbed.
There wasn’t anything I could say to explain it to her. This was the way of our world.
Once Debi had calmed down, I got her settled into her seat.
“Well, I won’t be giving the city of L.A. a five-star rating on TripAdvisor after today,’ muttered Camillo from where he stood in the aisle of the jet.
“This wasn’t supposed to be a goddamn holiday,” I snarled.
“Aww, I was looking forward to seeing some of the sights. We never get to go to any other cities—you know, because we’re unwelcome just about everywhere,” complained Camillo.
“Why would you want to go to any other city?” My brother could be really goddamn irritating sometimes. “We’re the Kings of Chicago—and it’s the best fucking city in the world.”
I strode back to my seat. We were getting ready to take off as soon as we received the necessary clearance from the air traffic control.
As I sat down next to Juliana, I noticed that her arm was bleeding. She must have gashed it against something when I pushed her to the ground in the church—I would take a look at it when we were airborne. I would feel a lot better once we were no longer on Californian soil.
While we were waiting for take-off, Alessio came over to me. “What the fuck, Marco? We should leave her behind,” he said, signaling toward Juliana.
“She’s mine now, and she’s coming with us.”
“Christ, Marco, we’ve got Debi with us. They’ll come after us to get Juliana back. We need to get back to Chicago ASAP and having her with us is just asking for trouble.”
“We’ll be fine—we’re taking off soon.” I wasn’t in the mood for one of Alessio’s in-depth examinations of the pros and cons of a situation.
“And until then we’re sitting ducks while our plane is on the tarmac waiting for clearance to take off.
“I vote with Alessio,” chipped in Camillo.
“You don’t get a fucking vote,” I snapped at my brother.
“For God’s sake, Marco, we’re safer leaving her behind. Even Camillo agrees with me.” Alessio wasn’t letting this go.
“And what makes you think this is a fucking democracy?” I growled. “This is my decision as Capo. That’s final.”
I didn’t often pull rank on Alessio, but I barely had a handle on my emotions and I didn’t want to discuss this further.
After my brothers returned to their seats, I looked across at Juliana who remained unconscious. I couldn’t believe that I had allowed myself to be tempted by the beauty sleeping next to me.
Juliana was the Società’s version of ‘Pandora’, I thought, a bitter taste coating my throat. Just as Zeus, the king of the Greek gods, had caused the creation of the exquisite Pandora and then directed Hermes to fill her with lies and guile, the Società had molded Juliana into a beautiful siren. They’d offered her as a gift to me under the pretense of a marriage pact. But really, she had been a trick used to lure me into a trap, so that destruction and ruin could be unleashed upon the Fratellanza.
I was raging about the Società’s attack on us today, but I knew I was also furious that this girl was not what I had thought.
