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My eyes widen…
But his face breaks into a huge grin. “Joke, I made a joke,” he says, still laughing as he makes his way to the door. “We’re going to be leaving for the cemetery soon. Lorenzo should be upstairs shortly to walk down to the car with you,” he says, closing the door behind him.
I glance at the clock and hurry to the bathroom to get my hair dried, throw on some earrings, and put a little makeup on before the door of the penthouse opens. I walk into the living room, and Lorenzo takes in my attire from head to toe. His eyes rake over me like he does as he admires me in the dress he selected at the boutique, sending little pulses of energy coursing through my veins.
“You look gorgeous, Isabella,” he says, coming to me and kissing my lips. “Are you ready for this? You can still change your mind and stay here until I return,” he offers.
I shake my head. “No, I want to come with you. In all honesty, I’m more than a little worried about Emelia. I mean, I know these people are her family, her father and brothers, but they’re ruthless, and she did shun them publicly by being seen with Dominic. The morning papers may convince their extended family and friends that she is with Dominic against her will, but old man De Rosa, he knows the truth. Do you really think he’s not savage enough to kill his only daughter?”
Lorenzo draws in a breath, stroking a finger down my cheek. “I don’t know the answer to that question, Isabella. What I do know is that we’ve had to put extra precautions in place in the event this thing goes south. If he strikes against either Emelia or Dominic, we’re covered. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay? We protect our own, Isabella, capiche?”
I nod, fully understanding the magnitude of today’s funeral and the details that must have been put into place to ensure everyone’s security. If old man De Rosa doesn’t explode, it will be a surprise. I can only imagine how he will feel when his only daughter walks into the graveside service on the arm of a Larussio.
Lorenzo goes to the closet and gets our jackets. He puts his on and then holds my lightweight black trench and waits while I fasten and snap the wide belt into place before taking my hand. “Remember what I said: if things go south, and you’re questioned by anyone. You saw nothing, you say nothing, that is our way,” he tells me as we head out the door.
We exit The Larussio, and three black limos are waiting. He guides me to the third one in the line and waits until I’m situated before closing the door and walking around to the other side. He slides next to me as I settle into the luxurious black leather seat of the vehicle. “Morning, Darryl. You have everything in place?” he asks.
“Yes, sir, we’ll be ready if anything goes wrong,” he says.
“Good. I’m sure the capos and their men have everything in place, but you can never be too certain with these fuckers,” he says as the first limo begins to move.
“Why so many cars?” I ask, but then put up a hand. “No, don’t answer that. It’s symbolic, right? Or a gesture of power. I don’t need to know. That was the reporter in me being curious, nothing else.” I sigh. “It’s going to take me a while before my mind quits asking questions. It’s how I’m wired,” I tell him.
His dark eyes meet mine as his finger strokes my palm. “Salvatore is in the first, Dominic the second, and we’re in the third. It’s in respect to the hierarchy of power, and to ensure that we are not all put in a compromised position at the same time if an attack were to occur. To ensure the family interests in the future are always protected.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, appreciative of the trust he has placed in me by telling me that. Darryl follows the two cars in front of us onto the main strip and out to the highway that will allow us to bypass most of the traffic in town.
The steeple of the catholic church not far from the cemetery is like a looming beacon in the distance. Lorenzo turns to me. “The small private service was held inside before a larger, more inclusive one is at the gravesite. It’s a tradition devised to reduce the number of attacks in the house of worship. In past years, it has been a place of much bloodshed and destruction.”
I don’t even need to ask why. Growing up it was all too common. “Because it’s an event that much of the family attends. A way to take them all out at the same time?”
He nods. “Many families only allow immediate family inside the church, with the larger group gathering at the graveside as they will today.”
The vehicles slow as we approach the church. Lorenzo’s jaw is tight as we pass the soldiers who surround the church in vehicles and on foot, watching and guarding. But they don’t miss the procession of the Larussios, staring in awe as the three stretch limos pass them by.
The procession continues down the street and then turns onto a more secluded road, following it for about a mile until we reach the graveyard. We continue a ways and then turn down another road, making a circle to come back and park on a hill opposite the cemetery, that gives us an advantage of height for a view.
Lorenzo continues to stroke my palm. I pull it gently away, as the emotional cruelty of the act we’re about to witness settles deep in my heart, causing my hands to shake. If he notices the tremor, he doesn’t acknowledge it, but takes my hand and kisses the top of it before resuming the caresses that I can only imagine are intended to sooth my troubled soul.
Even in death, there is typically no respect between the families. The fact that Lorenzo and his family are allowing Emelia to attend without attacking is a gesture unprecedented by any other family, at least that I’ve seen. Generally, there is no time between battles in the war between savage rivals such as these.
The emotional brutality of what we are doing, flaunting his daughter on the arm of the enemy, coupled with the gentleness of his stroke causes my heart to beat erratically. I knew exactly what they were planning. I had every chance to stay at the penthouse, every chance not to take part in this heinous act, but I wanted to come, to experience it, and now I am feeling every emotion that it evokes.
“If things go as planned, they will know we are here. They will suffer seeing us in an elevated position, knowing that we have ruined De Rosa and taken their daughter, their wife and mother, as retribution for the slaughter of my cousins. If they know what’s good for them, they will accept it for what it is, knowing there is still payment for kidnapping Alena coming,” Lorenzo says.
I swallow. This is the world that my father grew up in, that I was brought into as a baby, and protected from by my father for as long as he could. Vendettas, retribution, and revenge. All so prevalent in the criminal underworld. I took an oath to expose things like this, to uncover and share the truth, yet I sit as part of the humiliation exacted upon a family in grief.
Lorenzo’s phone beeps with a message. He turns his attention to Darryl. “They’re leaving the church. Get ready.”
Chapter17
Lorenzo
The fearand apprehension rolls from Isabella in waves. A man who grows up in a family like ours can sense it a mile away. She wasn’t nervous last night; she was all in. She wasn’t about to be left behind for any reason, no matter what I said.
Now she’s nervous and afraid. She will need to work through her emotions if she is to paint a story half as poignant as what she wrote about the forbidden lover’s kiss. If she does that, the family will be even more glamorized than we already are.
Strategically not a bad place to be…
