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“I have proof that Isabelle was working with my cousin, Dante Barbieri, to conspire against me due to Dante’s jealousy. He wanted to be the new Don after my papi’s death. She went behind my back to have Elenora kidnapped and given to the American Mafia without my consent. Her death was warranted.”
Lorenzo’s mouth dropped when I gave him a cold stare to demand he either sit down and shut up or challenge me right now. He slowly lowered himself into his chair again.
“So,” I clapped my hands, rubbing them together. “Now we have put the gossip to bed, let’s talk about what we are all really here for. Success.”
Fabi opened the briefcase he was holding and Finn stepped forward, taking out all the very carefully crafted and personalised contracts for each family. The three of us hadn’t slept last night because we had been creating a unique alliance that would benefit every family in the North, giving them each something we knew they specifically wanted. It was a fucking ball ache, but I was pretty sure they would find them hard to turn down.
Finn walked around the table, placing the contract in front of each Boss. He paused when he got to Gabriel, who had turned to glare up at him. Finn pulled out a letter from his suit jacket and handed it to him. It was a personal letter from Finn explaining himself to Giovanni with my approval and a separate note from me, asking for a private meeting. When Finn reached Enzo, the tension between them was palpable. I narrowed my eyes as Enzo held up his hand to refuse the contract with a clenched jaw.
“Not interested… traitor,” he hissed at Finn.
“At least read it. It may surprise you,” Finn whispered, leaning over his shoulder and placing the contract on the table in front of him anyway.
“How could you do this? Giovanni is going to kill you for this.” I heard Enzo mutter under his breath.
“Maybe,” Finn shrugged. “But nothing is ever what it seems. Is it, Aiani?”
I tore my gaze away quickly to hide the fact I had witnessed their exchange. The room was quiet, only the low whispers of Bosses discussing the terms set in the contracts with their representatives. Enzo refused to read his, which didn’t surprise me. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with his arms folded and a deadly glare directed at me. I admired it in a strange way. He really was loyal to the Buccinis.
“Hopefully, you will find your contracts fair and see that I am not out to steal from you or your businesses. Yes, 5% of your profits from business will go to the Brotherhood we form, but only 1% of that will go directly to the Barbieri clan as payment for the protection, advice and support we shall offer you. The other 4% is placed into a joint, discreet account for the Brotherhood. This will be used to support failing businesses, making new connections with deals and vendors outside of Italy, and to pay for any expenses that your family needs to support growing your own investments. 95% of everything you make from the moment you sign allegiance to me, remains yours. You keep your territories. No violence will be tolerated towards each other, making the North a safer place for your families and allowing you to focus on what really matters. Business.”
“You paint a pretty picture,” The Lino Boss sighed. “But this is the mafia. There is no way it will all be sunshine and rainbows. There will always be rivalry and fighting.”
“Si. There will be. But over time you will see how it will change. You fuck up… you answer to me. Not a boardroom of men, who all have to vote and agree on a punishment before it can even be executed. Trust me, people learn quickly that I am a person not worth upsetting,” I replied, holding his gaze as he nodded, happy with my answer.
“So, if the commission no longer stands, what happens to our roles?” A representative asked.
I smiled as I put my arms out in a gesture to the room, “You still represent your families. You become my middlemen. The bosses are busy and I don’t expect them to always be able to keep me informed on their own ventures. So, that is what the representatives do. You are the very trusted liaisons between the Barbieris and Bosses. My door is always open,” I smirked as many of them looked around the room and started nodding, liking the idea of their new role.
“I already have alliances with four Northern families. But in order for this to work successfully, I would like us all to agree that this is the best route for your futures. We are all aware of the growing threat in America, Russia and Ireland. But we are the Italian Mafia. If we stand together, there is no threat. If you are happy to sign now, go ahead, but if you need more time to discuss, feel free to take your contracts with you and think it over.”
I glanced over at Finn and Fabi as the room burst into conversations. Fabi winked at me with a grin when a few men pulled out pens and signed their contracts immediately. They were the easier ones; the smaller families, who would have been stupid to refuse such a generous offer to support them. It was the larger, more powerful families that were talking intensely, picking away at the contracts with a fine-tooth comb.
“Is this over? Are we done?” Enzo snapped, standing up from his chair.
I nodded once with gritted teeth. He stormed down the table, leaving the contract behind, but his representative picked it up at the last moment. I stepped back, blocking his pathway through the exit just as he reached me.
“Marry her…” I hissed lowly, “And I’ll kill you.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “You had your chance with Elenora and you blew it. Don’t worry, Barbieri. I will take better care of her than you ever did.”
I smirked, hiding how much his words made me want to smash my fist in his face and placed my hand on his shoulder in what looked like a friendly gesture to outsiders. It was anything but friendly. The vicious fury in my eyes gave that away.
“You hurt my best friend. And now you want to marry the woman I love for your own selfishness. You are walking on thin ice, Aiani. Read the contract. Sign it. And back off Elle. It won’t end well for you to become my enemy.”
His eyes widened in alarm when he realised I knew his secret and darted over to Finn. He shrugged me off aggressively, barging past my shoulder and out the door. Hopefully, he wasn’t as stupid as his choices have been so far.
When Lightning Strikes
I chewed anxiously at my thumb nail as I cast my gaze over the new collections of paintings that I had been working on since I returned from the South. The gnawing uncertainty about every aspect of my life, but mainly my love life had kept me up most of the night and in the end, I had given up on sleep and made my way to the garden studio to try and find some inner peace.
Even though I was clearly in a very creative headspace right now, it hadn’t helped. It was now midday and I still wasn’t any closer to knowing what the hell I should do. Time was not on my side. Tomorrow morning, I was expected to walk down the aisle and marry Enzo Aiani in front of hundreds of very powerful people. And after last night, I really felt for Enzo. I understood, sympathised and wanted to help him. If it wasn’t for Alessio and Finn, I would do it. But as much as I had tried to deny it over the last few days, I couldn’t let Alessio go. When I looked into my future, I only saw him. The life we could have together. But it all still felt impossibly far-fetched. Isabelle and Dante may be gone, but our problems have only escalated. Yet just being in his company last night, had only reminded me of how madly in love with him I was. He was the only one who had the power to make me feel safe, even when the world was burning around us.
I sighed with frustration as I lifted the canvas I had just finished and placed it against the wall to dry. What was I doing? Hiding in my studio and praying it would all just go away? That I wouldn’t need to make such a life-changing decision in a matter of hours? And what made matters worse is that I hadn’t heard anything from Alessio or Finn. He had told me not to give up on him. That he had a plan, but what the hell was it? Was I really just expected to wait around until he made contact with me again?
Walking over to the window, I looked across the extravagant lawns at all the people starting to organise the decorations and flowers in the huge white tent ready for tomorrow. I spotted mamma and Liv giving instructions to the men, who were making a beautiful flower and greenery arch for the ceremony. My stomach twisted and my hands started to shake. That should be me. I should be out there, making sure everything looked how I wanted it to, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. I had been that cliché little girl who dreamed of her huge, white wedding and already had everything picked out in her mind. The scrapbook I had made as a teenager had all the flowers, colour schemes, bridesmaid dresses and catering collage from magazine cut-outs and my own designs. Mamma had asked for it the day I agreed to marry Enzo and it was a little surreal that all those ideas and concepts were coming to life before my very eyes. However, as I stood there watching on like an imposter in my own life, none of it seemed to matter. It was all just stuff. Beautiful stuff. But stuff all the same. And then it hit me. That little girl had it all wrong. She had wanted the fairy-tale. The picture-perfect day with stunning scenery and exquisite decorations. The perfect dress. The three-tier cake with flowers running down the side. The rows and rows of people, all looking at her on the day she felt the most beautiful woman in the world. She thought all of that would make her happy. But none of it mattered... if it wasn’t right.
I moved away from the window with tentative steps as my eyes cast around the studio. I dived down to the cabinet doors, where I kept all my old journals and sketch pads, and started pulling them out one by one, checking the dates. Finding the right year, I sat back on my heels as I frantically opened the sketchbook, flicking through it until I found the first sketch I did after I met Alessio in my studio. And there it was. The image of his teenage face, those captivating eyes, full lips pulled up into a cheeky smirk and floppy brown hair over his forehead. I kept going. More images of him. Then fantasies of us hand in hand. Kissing. Lying under a tree together. A teenage obsession. I had been so angry at him for sending Finn here, but wasn’t I just as obsessed with him? I grabbed the next sketchbook and found more of the same until one caught my eye. I paused, turning the book onto the side to study it more closely. I must have been fifteen or sixteen when I drew this. And frustrated. It was dark. Black scribbles of a thunderstorm over our heads. Alessio and I were standing on either side of a momentous mountain, pain etched into our faces. Lightning had struck the peak of the mountain causing a crack to run down the middle of it. I squinted my eyes to the bottom of the pages. In tiny writing, barely visible, I had written, ‘Some mountains are too big to move. Only lightning can tear them down.’
