Chapter 85
He coughed loudly and reached behind him to grab his air tube before mumbling. "If this cancer doesn't kill me, fucking allergies will." Leonardo pulled his fedora lower and breathed in clean oxygen, and continued tickling his throat, ignoring every word I had spoken.
"Come on, old man, I have a spot for you."
I moved behind him, catching the tank attached to the back of the chair, and pushed us to the side.
"Yeah, wheel my ass up close. I don't want to squint too."
"Could you lighten up?"
"Says the man who hasn't smiled," he mocked.
Leonardo's body relaxed back into the black leather, and he swung his head high and around our path.
"I never imagined so many flowers and white at your wedding."
"There's black too."
"I expected that."
"What did you envision?"
I asked and made contact with three pairs of eyes.
My brothers stood at alert by the altar canopy facing the crowd and watched as I rolled Leonardo closer to the front row.
"I don't know. Not this. It's beautiful, almost dreamlike."
"Well, you aren't sleeping, and this isn't a dream. It's just what Alessandra wanted." I scratched my throat and pushed him forward to the front row. The spot closest to me.
"Massimo." Leonardo wheezed, and his fingers waved for me to get closer.
I stepped up before him and lowered.
Shock flooded my senses as his warm and wrinkled hand pressed against the same cheek my mother had once held. But as I stared at his brown eyes, I found my mother staring back at me.
The touch didn't last but mere seconds, but it was long enough to knock me into a daze.
"I'm proud of you, figlio. She would've been too."
"Don't go soft on me now," I croaked through my tightening throat.
"Never." Leonardo smirked.
I cleared my throat and straightened. It was just another wedding. I had attended many, and somehow this one felt different. Vulnerable.
"Massimo." My attention was drawn to the sound of Nate calling out my name.
We met in the middle, and he pulled out an envelope. There was no need for explanation. With a quick nod, I took the envelope and placed it inside my suit jacket.
It was hers.
"I must return to Alessandra and bring her down to her father. The ceremony is starting in minutes."
"Go," I ordered with a dip of my chin.
Nate's blond hair disappeared among the crowd, and I took a deep breath, scanning over all faces and corners. Slowly my steps carried me between two bodies.
"Everything is secure," Vadim whispered with a brisk glance.
Good.
"I don't think I can place my back behind so many people," Elio muttered, tugging at his cuffs. His discomfort was apparent, and while I too felt vulnerable with so many people out in the open, evil roamed, outweighing the pure.
"If you don't wish to sit in the front row, don't fratello. A seating arrangement doesn't reflect your importance in our world or mine."
Elio's chest slightly caved, accepting his disturbed feeling and the weight I'd lifted. Then as if he hadn't fidgeted with irritation or spoken with doubt, his wicked smile flashed.
"Break a leg." His mayhem eyes twirled until they moved away from mine to survey every inch before he headed to the edge, turning and walking farther to the back.
People began taking their seats, dimming the chit-chat into quiet whispers. Alessandra's reserved front row for her family remained empty, while mine slowly filled, starting with Leonardo. Two empty seats were unfilled next to him, Nate's and Vadim, as Davina's brown eyes rested solely on the man by my side. On her right, Mrs. Carmine sat next to Thalia and Alvize. Her daughter, Delia, hadn't been invited.
My eyes flew to the threats that loomed above. The long Catholic wedding would have to be kept shorter than custom as the rain would soon catch up.
"I'll stay until Nate returns and everyone is seated," Vadim uttered, eyes peeled in the direction Nate had been last seen.
The envelope inside my chest pocket burned, and my fingers itched for the thin paper inside. But just as the envelope burned, the eyes of many flickered over my skin, watching my every move. Watching for a weak moment, they could replay among others.
It was the wedding of the year. A known union all wanted to witness. A play of a tale for the future of Miami.
It was finally here.
Two tall bodies emerged from the left corner. Both walked with purpose with their heads bowed to one another while words were exchanged. Elio followed their backs with his gaze while mine trailed Aldo's and Dante's steps closer. Once they were out in the open and walking up the aisle, I removed my eyes from them and waited for Nate.
I didn't wait for long before he appeared.
Both he and Vadim took their seats, and I took my place inside the outdoor altar.
"Massimo," the priest said as he walked closer to me before hiding under the hanging flower canopy.
"Father," I greeted, the same moment I heard the classical violinist strike a loud note. Everyone stood. Everyone turned in one direction.
My head snapped to where Alessandra should appear, and with each second that music played with time, the tighter my chest grew.
I had never been a man of emotion. A man of nerves.
Yet, it took all of me to keep my own legs from failing. For my knees not to give and for my breathing to steady.
It took all of me to hide behind the mask of the heartless.
Then I saw her, and I ran numb.
Only my heartbeat drummed and pumped inside, hammering in powerful wallops that shook me.
She was beautiful in all white.
A dress that shimmered with lace and touched her skin and body with a gentle caress.
A veil over her face that couldn't keep our eyes apart.
A sight of golden skin, green eyes, and white.
A vision I never wanted to forget.
And her smile.
Her smile brightened the depths of my heart. The pitch-black void that hadn't been touched. I hardly blinked, and when I did, it was quick, too afraid to miss a single step. Too afraid to miss a second.
Alessandra glimpsed around. Wonder and joy shined past the veil, touching every flower with her gaze. The second it returned to me, they glimmered in awe.
Happy, eager.
Or was it love?
I was so captivated by her, I didn't care for the man who walked alongside her.
I was too mesmerized by her gripping regal beauty to stain such vision with thoughts I didn't welcome at the moment.
At that moment, I only had eyes for her.
My little creature of wickedness.
But I blinked, and death danced with disaster.
MASSIMO
My mother warned me about hesitation. How it had the power to root your feet. The power to paralyze a being. Or would the fear of losing someone triumph over such a power? Or would it leave you too fear-struck to move?
Could they shake hands and form an alliance into despair? The feeling of all hopelessness.
While she'd spoken in hushed whispers next to me in my bed, her tales were always lessons told into the ears of a five-year-old. Nighttime stories of confusion and uncertainty. Words to understand and feelings to conquer.
But there was one word she'd never covered.
Desperation.
And desperation can overtake you with madness.
I blinked, and I saw it too late.
The glimmer of a scope.
The shine reflected into the corner of my eye.
Time flew by with the wind in swirling gusts. Fast, furious, and yet too slow.
Too slow for the speed of a bullet.
Too fast for erupting chaos.
First, the lone loud pop.
Second, the exploding flesh.
Then, the havoc.
I didn't hesitate, and while fear clawed, ripping my chest by her parting mouth and wide eyes, desperation took control when I saw her back, turning to face her father as another pop ricocheted into my eardrum.
Echoing in a deafening death.
Blood splattered all around her, and she fell to the ground by her father's weight.
Screams pierced all around, bodies ran in all directions.
I rushed to her.
I rushed to retrieve my gun out in the open, eyes wild and looking in all directions for threats as Iran to her.
Adrenaline pumped, and bullets fell all around.
Alessandra struggled on the floor, her hands pushing the weight of the dead. But her howling cries and shaking body weakened her as his head pressed against her chest.
"I'm here, baby," I yelled past her cries, but she wouldn't open her eyes.
She cried with fists punching and pushing against Franco.
I slid onto the floor, wrapped my hands beneath her arms, and pulled her toward me. I shoved my foot down the body with my soles. Alessandra tried to fight me, trying to break free from my grasp, but we had no time.
I kicked us backward on the wet floor.
She kicked the body off.
Shaking red fingers gripped on white, her hands tugged on the heavy skirt, bunching the long trail away, and I turned our bodies to face the ground.
I kept pulling, dragging, and towing her beneath me. Shielding her quivering body.
Between the deserted rows of empty chairs, I placed her on the floor and flipped her over.
With a gun in one hand, I cupped her cheek fiercely with the other.
Crimson splashed her face in heavy specks, and gore sprinkled with remains that were once a part of her father. They created all sizes of freckles on her skin, dusting her features, neck, and chest. Dark red particles of torn flesh.
Her veil had disappeared. The lace over her arms was shredded, and her dress was ruined in deep red.
Dark hair stuck together in livid curtains of red wine.
Alessandra was showered in blood by the second bullet that struck the back of Franco's head. And if she was a few inches taller, that high-caliber bullet would've struck her too.
My gaze raced over her body, trying to find out if the first bullet had touched her. But I found no open holes.
I pulled her convulsing body to me and concealed her face between the crook of my neck. Holding her and pushing my hand on the back of her head as I took in her quivers. I lifted my head to the chaos surrounding us.
Men poured from all directions while others scurried inside the church for shelter.
Death spotted the floor with men.
Some enemies.
Some mine.
And gunfire dipped the white pure flowers in blood, corruption, and evil.
I found Elio, Yamal, Dario, and many more walking upward toward the danger in a formation. Guns bouncing with each shot, eyes devoid of feeling. Elio's gaze met mine, and I saw their diabolical need for torture. His left hand stretched, and he lifted his thumb, index, and middle finger out to me.
Hold. It warned.
Hold.
I crushed Alessandra to me and turned in the direction he aimed.
In the corner by a small brick column, Vadim fired with no protection as he placed Davina behind his back. He also had a heaving Leonardo who stood on weak legs, Mrs. Carmine, and the priest. All between the stone wall shelter and him.
Where is Nate?