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3 MONTHS LATER
“You fucking goon,” Fredo cuffs the blonde in front of me, “did you think that we wouldn’t find out? Did you think we’d let it slide?”
Blood drips from the blonde’s brow but he doesn’t fall to his feet. He looks at me with venom in his gaze and spits on the floor. “You should thank me.”
Coming face-to-face with my deceased husband’s murderer is something I’ve only dreamt about. I’ve considered a hundred ways to punish the man that stuck five bullet holes in Ricardo’s chest. “You should be on your knees,” I respond as carefully as possible, “Fredo.”
My pet beast and bodyguard, Fredo Genovese, lands a startling blow to the middle of the blonde’s back. He falls to the floor in front of me with a roar that would rival a lion. “You do as she commands,” Fredo whispers in his ear. “Or I’ll make you regret ever being born.”
In the hospital, Fredo stood by my side as the doctors operated on me. He might have been insolent just a few hours before, but I was his last remaining tie to Ricardo. When he found out that I’d suffered a miscarriage due to the stress of my husband’s death, he waited until I opened my eyes to swear his allegiance to me. I still remember his words:Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I am there.It was the first show of respect that I received.
“Alessandro wants to see you,” the blonde laughs from his knees. There is pain in his chuckle and he reaches behind him to rub his sore back. “He wants a truce. He wanted a truce with your husband, but Ricky refused to see him.”
Fredo gives the blonde a kick in the ribs and he curls up into a ball of pain. “Address the former don appropriately,” he warns. “Or find yourself incapable of addressing anyone ever again.”
He makes a lot of threats, but Fredo towers over most men and it lends to his credibility. I’ve never seen him kill a man, but I’ve heard the stories. He once plucked a man’s eyeballs out of his head and then licked the blood off his fingers. Fredo Genovese is a scary man, but he’s the kind you want on your side. He is depraved, but when he’s yours, he’ll make your enemies regret it.
It takes the blonde several minutes to recover from the kick. I watch him curiously as he rolls around in agony and then slowly makes his way into a sitting position. Fredo hasn’t beat the confidence out of this man’s eyes, but he’s getting there. “Don’t be stupid, Willow. End this war before any more of your men get hurt.”
I raise my hand to stop Fredo from landing another blow. I see his fist raise up in anger, but he halts his actions the second he sees my request. “You must know that you’re going to die today,” I say to the blonde. “You could die without warning me at all. You could watch from the heavens as Giovanni picks apart my soldiers and territories one by one. What do you gain from this warning?”
Fredo drops his fists to his side. He clenches and releases over and over again. The sound of his heavy breathing fills the silence.
The blonde doesn’t move. One side of his lip curls up into a pained smirk. “I have a sister like you. Sweet, innocent, married to a man like Ricardo. She deserved better,” he chokes on the words. “You deserve better.”
He isn’t the first person to hint at what he knows. I’ve grown accustomed to the idle chatter of men that think they need to save me. But I am no one’s damsel in distress. I am not a princess in need of a white knight. “Ricardo is dead, as you well know. I am not like your sister anymore.”
“Good,” he says with the ghost of a smile. “Meet with Alessandro. Take his offer. He won’t hurt you the way Ricardo did.”
I catch Fredo’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as he looks at me. Whether he knew about Ricardo’s abuse or not, I can’t reveal any more of my marital relations to him. If he takes the information back to the men, I could lose my credibility. If they knew that their former leader beat me, their loyalty will crumble. “You’ll reap when you sow,” I tell the blonde before me. “Fredo doesn’t need five bullets to end your life, just one carefully placed. You can die in pain and drown in the blood that fills your lungs, the way that Ricardo would have if it weren’t for the morphine.”
Ricardo didn’t gasp for breath as his lungs filled up. He drifted off into the peaceful slumber that premeditated his passing. The doctors assured me he felt nothing. Which is a pity considering I still feel the pain of his fists every time I close my eyes.
Fredo grabs the blonde by the arm and gives me a look. “Do you want him in the dungeon or the catacombs?” One is guarded with cameras 24/7, the other is a cemetery full of dead bodies and stories that will never be told.
I waver back and forth. In the dungeon, he’ll die slow and painfully before having his body returned to the Giovannis along with a movie carefully curated for his boss. In the catacombs, he can die with the grace and dignity of not having his death filmed for the masses. Either way, he isn’t leaving the estate. “I want them to know that we will not stand for this,” I decide. “We will not take a fatal blow without returning it. Take him to the dungeon.”
The blonde has accepted his fate. He allows Fredo to pull him by the arm without fighting or arguing with the sentence. He knew when he was caught that he would never be allowed to survive. I will praise his courage when I go to sleep tonight. It takes a strong man to face his death head-on and not be afraid.
As the two of them leave the room, I release the tension from all my muscles and relax into the chair. This is the first execution I’ve ordered since taking over the family and it leaves me in turmoil. One on hand, it needed to happen as a show of strength. The Parodi family cannot be pushed around without pushing back. On the other hand, the murderer did me a favor. He saved me from an abusive marriage with a man who may have never loved the children he almost gave me. Ricardo Parodi certainly did not love me.
I have been a possession all my life. First, I was my father’s daughter. Then I was Ricardo’s wife. For the first time in my existence, I do not belong to anyone. I am mine and I can make my own decisions.
Fredo returns half an hour later. Blood stains his shirt, but he nods to me and says that the deed is done. If I want to watch the blonde’s slow death, it’s only a few clicks away. “Set up a meeting with Alessandro.”
“Willow,” Fredo cautions, “perhaps we should give it more time.”
“This war has gone on long enough. If my husband could have ended it, he should have. But he’s dead and he will never have the option again.” I turn away from Fredo and stare out the window that has a view of the garden. “I will not make the same mistakes as Ricardo. Set up the meeting.”
In the pit of my stomach, I feel like I’m acting rashly, but what else can I do? The world doesn’t stop for deaths, murders, births, or anything else. I have to keep moving forward.
2
ALESSANDRO
3 MONTHS BEFORE
“The deed is done,” Gabriel announces as he walks into the room. “Ricardo Parodi should be dead within a few hours.”
