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I cock my head to the side and snarl, “Nah, but I’m about to go find out.”
“So, who do you think did it, big bro?”
“Don’t know, but I know a few people who might be interested in giving me some answers.”
“So, who’s this?”
“Manfredi Rossi and Giorgio Esposito.”
“Let Rocco go pick them up and bring them back here. That way, we control the fucking narrative.”
A shadow appears in the doorway behind Alessandro. What sounds like Rocco’s voice says, “I heard ya. I’m on the way, boss.”
I leave them behind, heading back to Grazie’s bedroom.
Graziella’s still lying where I left her.
She’s so beautiful with her long, gold hair spread across the pillow. That hair that she took such pride in brushing it for several minutes every night before she went to bed. My gaze lifts to that damned hole in her forehead before dropping to the ones that spatter her chest.
The air reeks, and I know she was scared when she took her final breath.
Alessandro steps up to the bed.
I watch as his hand hovers over her face and then closes her eyelids.
My rage slacks off a bit, and I slump against the wall. I feel the moisture slipping down my face.
The rage within turns into a vibration rushing through my body. I will find who did this to her, and the bastards will pay. They’ll pay with their wives’ lives, their parents’ lives, their children’s lives, and finally, their lives.
“You know they’re gonna want to know who would have reason to do this, right?”
I look up at Alessandro, my jaw clenching as I try not to take my fury out on him.
“Anything you need from us, boss?” Ermes Greco, one of my soldiers, asks as he enters the room.
I push off the wall and stand by the bed before dropping beside her.
“Have the men check the cameras to see if we can use anything. Ensure everything that needs to be secured is taken off the premises,” I hear Alessandro instruct.
“Marco, we have to call the police.”
I nod at my brother and disappear into the dark space of my mind. Memories of how we used to be long ago when I trusted her and she was my friend run through my mind.
The next voice I hear is that of my father.
“Mio Dio,” I hear my father. “Marco! Get up! What is this?” he shouts, his hand outstretched toward the bed.
I don’t want him to see me this way. Can’t stand the fucking disappointment that reflects in his eyes when he sees the other part of me. As much as he hates that part of me, that part of me hates him, if not more.
I try to control the insanity within me. My body trembles and shudders.
My twin, Massimo, drops onto the bed beside me and places his arms around me. The darkness recedes just a little. I can see Massimo. The tiny part of me that disappeared reaches out to my twin, begging him to save me.
Massimo and I press our foreheads together, and Massimo speaks in a low tone to me, shutting out the others.
“Stay focused. I’m here with you. Keep the darkness at bay, Marco. Don’t let the rage take over. I’m right here,” he whispers.
“I can’t,” I whimper, feeling weaker than ever.
