AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Merge the two families? Was there anything left of the Mancini family? As I took in the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but curse under my breath.
Carlo's revelation hit me like a ton of bricks, leaving me momentarily speechless. The news, combined with the chaos around us, made it difficult to process what I was being told. I had countless questions demanding answers, but for now, I had to get us out of here.
Moving to assist Carlo, I was taken aback as he firmly grasped my arms.
"Luigi confessed to killing our father. It wasn't a heart attack. He poisoned him," Carlo rasped.
The ground beneath me seemed to waver as the shock settled in. My mind struggled to reconcile this new information, my brother's intense gaze locking with mine.
Enzo and I had long suspected foul play in our father's death, but the revelation that our uncle had orchestrated it left me reeling. My mind grappled with the implications of such a monstrous act as I grudgingly acknowledged the depths to which our family's darkness extended.
It was a tale of abusers and kingslayers, and the more I thought about it, the more the lines between the two blurred.
With a firm resolve, I helped Carlo to his feet, but once he was up, his knees buckled, and he let out a pained hiss. Looking down, I could see that Carlo's right pant leg was stained with blood.
"Were you shot?" I asked.
His pained grunt confirmed my fears, sending a wave of frustration and anger coursing through me. I couldn’t believe Luigi actually wanted to kill his nephew.
Cursing softly under my breath, I carefully looped Carlo's arm around my shoulder, supporting his weight as we made our way through the wreckage. Each step felt like an eternity as we navigated the blood-smeared floors. His words broke through my thoughts, a mix of pain and uncertainty in his voice.
"What's going to happen now?" he asked, his gaze flickering over the wreckage around us, the fallen bodies of our men silently testifying to the violent life of the Mafiosi.
"For now, we get out of here," I replied, the words laced with urgency. "Luigi knows we're onto him. There's no way he'll risk showing his face anytime soon. What we need to do is find out what he's up to."
As we staggered towards the exit, my men swiftly moved in to provide the necessary medical assistance. Lowering Carlo gently to the ground, I watched as they worked diligently to stem the bleeding and stabilize his condition.
As they worked on his leg, my fingers swiftly dialed Andrea's number, my voice tight with urgency as I relayed the situation to him. I provided a brief overview of Carlo's injuries and our need for immediate medical attention for other injured men.
Once the bleeding was under control, I carefully helped Carlo to my car, his weight leaning heavily against me. As I settled into the driver's seat, my hand discreetly found the button that activated the recorder.
"Tell me everything from the beginning," I instructed quietly, my eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Carlo's recounting of his meeting with Luigi unfolded. The conversation revolved around our father's decision to name me as the leader of the family. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as the implications of their discussion settled in.
Carlo's somber tone cut through the quiet hum of the car.
"Luigi called me to the Fiore house and said he needed to discuss some urgent business. We talked about Father's choice to hand the reins over to you. It didn't make any sense to us, Emilio. We even speculated whether the will had been tampered with." His voice wavered slightly as he recounted the heated exchange.
I glanced at him, a flicker of surprise registering on my face. His words stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me, but I remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"We were talking about how to remove you from being the leader," he confessed, his gaze fixed on the dashboard in front of him.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened as his words sank in. A pang of disappointment rippled through me, mingling with the sense of betrayal that threatened to overwhelm my thoughts. I stole a glance at Carlo, the weight of his admission heavy in the air.
My voice emerged emotionless, devoid of any bitterness. "I didn't realize you and Uncle Luigi were conspiring against me," I murmured.
The hurt simmered just beneath the surface, no matter how much I told myself that I should have expected this. Carlo's eyes avoided looking at me. His expression was clouded with a mix of frustration and guilt.
"Emilio, you know Father never designated you as the leader. He never explicitly said anything about you taking over," he countered, his tone laced with defensiveness. "I was trained for this, groomed from a young age to step into his shoes. You know how Father treated you, how he favored me. It was what I had been raised for."
A maelstrom of conflicting emotions churned within me, the years of emotional neglect and physical abuse, resentment coalescing into a chaotic but silent storm.
"You were the one he pushed," I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was the afterthought."
Glancing over at Carlo, I found myself struggling to process the waves of emotions crashing over me. His attempt at justifying their conversation, emphasizing the expectations placed on him as the older child to inherit the family legacy, made me feel empty.
Did I even have a family?
