“Damn it!”
If I’d ever thought Greta was in danger, I would have killed Cressida that day instead of telling her about the divorce. I wished I’d strangled her with my fucking hands. A new wave of utter rage and guilt slashed through me.
I could hear voices in the background, possibly Marcella.
“Fuck it, fuck these goddamn Traditionalists and most of all Antonaci!”
“Dad, you know what this means.”
“The Falcones want revenge.”
“Of course.”
“We’re at war. If we were at peace, it would be understandable that we allow our allies to dish out revenge in our territory like we did with Kiara, but Antonaci acted against the enemy, so he might have acted without my direct orders but that won’t be enough.”
“Greta’s injuries are so bad, she won’t ever have kids. I won’t ever have children, Dad. All because Cressida’s ambition and her father’s fanatism. I want them all dead. I want them to die in the cruelest way possible. And I’ll tell the Falcones that they can have them, that they can kill every fucker who was involved. I’ll fucking applaud them while they skin them. And then there’s going to be peace, and whoever from the Famiglia doesn’t want peace can die alongside Cressida and her damned family.”
“You’re not Capo yet.”
“But I will be and this is the decision I would make.”
Dad was silent on the other end. “They can have Cressida for all I care, but every Famiglia soldier involved will be killed in a public meeting of the entire Famiglia as a warning.”
“Then we should let the Falcones be part of the meeting and allow them to kill Antonaci and the other involved men together with us.”
I heard Marcella’s voice in the background again.
After almost a minute, Dad released a harsh sigh. “That’s how we do it.”
Utter relief washed through me. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Amo?”
“Yes?”
“Make sure your girl gets better.”
I swallowed and hung up.
Then I went back to Remo to tell him our decision. This would pave the way to peace, to Greta’s and my future together.
I found Remo, Nevio and Serafina in front of Greta’s room. I nodded a greeting at Serafina. My interactions with her in the past had been limited to a couple of meaningless pleasantries. I didn’t know much about her, except for her kidnapping story.
“And?” Remo asked with a challenging expression.
I told Remo about the decision.
“We don’t want to wait for revenge until the Famiglia decides it is time. We don’t need a public meeting to spill blood,” Remo said. Nevio nodded.
“It’s the only way. And it’s a chance for peace.”
Nevio laughed. “We don’t need peace.”
Serafina turned to Remo. “Greta needs Amo. She lost so much. Do you want her to lose the love of her life as well?”
For the first time since I’d known Remo Falcone, his eyes flickered with intense emotional pain.
I shoved down my own emotions. I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about what Greta and I had lost. Whenever I’d dreamed about a future with Greta, I’d imagined us having children who filled the house with laughter.
“There is no retribution fitting for what Greta has lost,” Serafina whispered, touching Remo’s chest. “You can slaughter every member of the Famiglia but it won’t help Greta. The only thing you can do for our girl is to give her a future with Amo and for that to happen there must be peace.”
Nevio shook his head with a scoff, but then he exchanged a look with his father, and finally Remo nodded. “We’ll wait for the meeting to kill the rest, but Cressida will die now.”
“By my hands,” Nevio added.
Serafina’s expression twisted with worry. If she worried about Nevio’s mental wellbeing if he killed a woman, she needn’t have bothered. I doubted Cressida would be the first and she wouldn’t be the last either.
“Send her my greetings,” I gritted out.
My first memory when I woke was the acute pain in my belly, followed by a burning sensation in my knee. It made me want to recoil, but there was no running from this. Then faces became distinct before my eyes, slowly, one after the other. First Dad who sat on my right, his hand around mine, his dark eyes full of concern. “Pain?”
I nodded and winced. Dad reached up and pressed a button on the infusion that would release more morphine into my veins. At once, the stabbing in my body dulled and I could relax. Movement on my other side made me turn my head and my eyes grew wide when I spotted Amo straightening in his chair. He was holding my other hand. “Amo?”