Chapter 67

"Talk to me," I whispered.

Massimo took a deep breath and exhaled into the receiver.

"Why are you awake?" his deep and raspy voice asked.

"I can't sleep," I admitted.

"I will talk as long as possible before the call drops. But first, answer me." He paused. "How bad is it?"

Of course he knew. Massimo slept lightly, any small stirs or sounds quickly awakened him. My tossing and turning hadn't gone unnoticed. But as I'd struggled with new feelings, and their revelations followed by the fear he'd inflicted, I'd stayed away. I was furious with him and ignored his presence, acting as if the life I'd taken didn't bother me. I believed he wouldn't notice it or sense it in those days. However, Massimo had always seen through my farce, lies, and deceit since the first day we met.

Once again, darkness failed me. Instead of concealing my troubled mind, it revealed it in its shade.

"It's just me, Alessandra. I won't fault you or speak of it again." While his voice was firm and cold, they spoke in truth.

"It's the silence."

"What happens in the silence?"

"Dreams break my peace. No, not dreams. Vivid memories." My hand slithered away from Vine's soft coat, and I covered my closed eyes, pushing my palm against them as if it could erase the images.

"I don't think I have it in me to be a coldhearted killer," I uttered.

"Want to know what I think?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to have it in you to thirst for death. I think you are strong. I am convinced that your mind slips away as you take a life but returns shortly after for you to acknowledge it. And I think after you do, it will never bother you again."

"What if you are wrong?"

"I'm never wrong," he stated.

"Talk to me," I repeated, hoping this time my admission could die along with the memories.

Massimo stayed quiet for a short while and eventually gave in.

"Are you sure? Anything I say won't ease your mind."

"Yes," I answered, and Massimo spoke without aim, freeing words and tales of his past.

"I don't like tomato soup because it was what I mainly ate at the orphanage. Thalia's father, Alvize, used to pass basil around to the boys, and I used to stash them for my brother's soup to have some decent taste."

"He didn't have to, but his kindness was probably the only thing any of those boys, including myself, felt in those years. And while my time there was short compared to the ones who were left before they could speak, I loathed it the most. Because unlike them, I knew what awaited me on the outside. Freedom."

"Inside those walls we just-existed, and Alvize's small act made me face reality. It's what made me stop wondering about the length of my stay. It's what made me see the truth. So when I bought my first home, I asked him to work for me, taking him away from his reality."

When Thalia mentioned her father worked in a home Massimo used to live in, I never thought of that home. It never occurred to me that he would be the gardener and nurturer of the same grounds in which Massimo had been abandoned.

"Did you ever think of running away?" I dared.

"No." He paused. "I waited."

On what? Or who?

Leonardo?

"Then it was too late. I had three younger brothers to keep an eye on."

My mind spun with questions. How did he end up there? Where did he live before? But most importantly, where was his mother? Did she die when he was young like mine did, or did she abandon him?

Massimo was right. His words didn't ease my mind. Instead, they broke for the lost teen who'd once hoped for freedom.

"I must go. I can hear the static growing the longer we are in the air," he explained, and as much as I didn't want him to stop talking, I heard the cracking reception buzzing in my ear.

"Okay."

"Oh, and Alessandra."

The ongoing call scratched in weak beats.

"Yes."

"I will make sure you never have to feel this way again."

Massimo said in a riddle, and after the line disconnected, I clutched my phone tighter and curled deeper into the two large beasts. But his voice remained fresh in my mind. His tone and timbre lingered as his riddle played over and over.

In the break of dawn, I woke up wrapped in the warmth of his arms, entwined with his body as our limbs were woven together. I allowed sleep to claim me again, and as I sank deeper against his body, I solved the riddle.

I'll kill for you.

MASSIMO

They all spoke to one another. A conversation I'd pulled away from with a glass of brown swirling around and around, mirroring the way my mind worked relentlessly as I waited for Leonardo to arrive. I was tired.

Sleep had become a luxury. All I did was think, play, and scheme. At this point, everything I'd done and planned to do stopped revolving around the syndicate, the famiglia, and it had everything to do with her.

Everything had shifted. The power, the threats, my thoughts. It was dangerous, really. To lose control of my emotions and actions. All driven by sleep deprivation and cruelty.

Vengeance; the sweet and consuming rage that crumbled empires.

It was all I felt because after leaving Texas, the acts of violence had escalated into bloodbaths. As if the weight I carried wasn't enough, I now had more innocent lives caught in the crossfires. I had taken my private jet back to Miami, drained by the meeting and knowing my streets could be streaming in red. And while I made my point without any misunderstanding, I left with each boss' blessing, and the underlying warning couldn't have been clearer.

A no-man's-land.

A war zone.

But I had to stop the death tolls.

I had to stop Leandro Giuliani at once, and I was ready to share the plan with Leonardo.

"Massimo, are you listening?" Elio asked from the right corner of my study. The place he always found himself in when we were all together, standing and with arms crossed.

I didn't remove my gaze from my glass. Instead, I brought it to my lips and took a long sip.

"You haven't said anything." Elio should know, I always listened. No matter if I was a prisoner of my mind, I always listened. I always watched carefully, and never ignored the thoughts they shared, the tone they spoke, or the aura that mixed in the room.

It all mattered.

"Leonardo isn't here yet. I am not repeating myself twice."

My eyes lifted, locking onto his. He wore his usual attire, all black, but today instead of jeans, dress pants hung from his hips. Elio remained quiet, but his displeasure and annoyance were clearly etched on his features.

Nate pulled his phone out of his gray pants. He, too, stood by the corner next to Elio, but he leaned against the bookcase with furrowed brows and paid attention to his screen. His fingers sped across the device, and he eventually returned it to his pocket. I met his steel-blue eyes that popped against his short sleeve white button-up, but he didn't utter a word. Nate just sank deeper into the books.

I didn't ask if there was a problem. I trusted him to address it when it was necessary.

"They are all hers?" Vadim asked close to my left.

I dropped my glass onto my desk and watched his back as his hands left imprints over the glass casing that housed Alessandra's knives.

"Yes."

"This is quite a collection. All with different purposes, grips, blades." Vadim slid one of the compartments open. "There's even throw blades and brass knuckles in here." He inched closer. "Are those diamonds set on-"

"I would close that if I were you," Elio warned before I had the chance. After all, Elio had seen what Alessandra was capable of with the same blades in question.

Vadim shut the drawer and took one last look at the glass before running his hand through his blonde strands, turning to us. He shrugged with a mischievous grin.

I guess some things would never change.

The door burst open, and while everyone turned to the abrupt entrance, I took a deep breath and drowned the remainder of my drink.

"Guess you finally remembered you had a consigliere," Leonardo wheezed as he walked in with pressed black trousers, white long-sleeved shirt, and a formal sleeveless sweater vest. His black fedora rested low on his head, and while his shoulders were straight, his posture was curved from age and sickness.

His ill-temper remained intact while he slowly died, and his power was strong with every weak breath he took. But his mind was as sharp as the first time I met him.

I couldn't stand seeing him slowly deteriorate and hated the deep wrinkles and the struggle it took him to just get here. I hated knowing that soon the last of my blood would be six feet under.

By his missing oxygen tank, this was supposed to be a good day for him, but his weak limbs couldn't deceive.

"I never forgot." Seeing him only worsened my mood.

"Hm." He scoffed and stood over the unfinished chess game. "I don't have all day." Leonardo pulled his gaze away from the board and sat across from my desk. "How did the meeting go, and why are you just now calling me?"

I guess thirty-six hours later was not acceptable for Leonardo.

No one spoke, and Leonardo's eyes gripped me tightly. His displeasure was still tight on his lips from the last time we'd been together, upset at how I treated Alessandra.

I decided it wasn't the time or place to talk about that day and how he'd overshared the past, or how I'd lost control by the sound of my mother's name. Instead, I focused on the task at hand. Blood streaking streets.

"It went as expected," I replied. "In Miami's favor and blessings."

"But I wouldn't be here if it went so smoothly." He drew out the last word and coughed. "So what is really the problem?"

"Giuliani's son acts on his behalf, for now."

"That's not a surprise." His hands waved in front of him, as if that didn't matter.

It didn't. The man with burned, scarred hands would be dead soon.

Leonardo's fedora tipped up, and his gaze cut through my thoughts.

"You are going to order his death." Appalled, he saw my plan. "No one gave you that blessing, Massimo."

"Not with those words, but the votes were in my favor. Any visit to my city will be treated as a threat."

Leonardo's head shook, and his chuckle erupted into heaps of gasps.

"You closed off Miami to the famiglia?" Leonardo's voice raised with disbelief marking his eyes.

"Until Alessandra is no longer a target? Yes, I did."

He glanced around the room, watching each one of my brothers.

"You all think this is a good idea?" He pointed around.

Trying to settle his anger and calm his breathing, I explained to him.

"The moment Giuliani targeted Alessandra, he knew he'd gone against La Cosa Nostra amendments. He'd sealed his deal, and I made sure they saw it my way. The news and the possible threats to the other bosses made it much easier for my argument to be valued."