I scan the three guys standing behind him. “You’re bluffing.”
Nunzio arches a brow. “How’s that?”
“You don’t have clearance to do this. You’re just hoping to pull it off and ask for forgiveness instead of permission.”
It’s only because I’ve spent years deciphering Nunzio’s emotions from the tiny movements in his face that I catch it. A small twitch in the left side of his mouth. It’s always been a tell.
Orrin gives me a barely there bump with his arm, signaling he’s following my lead. Four against four. I’ve dealt with far worse odds before.
“Yeah?” Nunzio asks, his voice low. “You sure know a lot for someone who went from Ras of the Casalesi to working for one of the most insignificant outfits in New York. How’d you end up here if you’re so smart?”
I smirk. “By doing stupid, reckless shit like this.”
The bullet leaves my gun before the last word leaves my mouth, but Nunzio lunges out of the way, and it only grazes his arm.
He hisses in pain and clutches his biceps. His cronies immediately draw their own weapons, but Orrin and his crew have already taken cover behind the van. I duck and roll to the left to join them as another gunshot rings out. It’s followed by the sound of glass shattering, metal clanging against metal, and a muffled groan.
Orrin curses. “Fuck, they hit the truck driver.”
“We need to end this quickly,” I tell him, peeking around the van.
I’ve been in gunfights before, but this one feels different. More personal.
I can hear Nunzio barking orders to his men.
“Now,” I snap.
With a nod from Orrin, Speedy and Chris emerge from behind the van, guns blazing. I follow closely behind, my own weapon steady in my grip. The sound of gunfire echoes in the empty parking lot, bouncing off the walls of the surrounding buildings.
Speedy takes a hit, toppling over, but so do Nunzio’s men. They fall quickly. Nunzio himself is a different story. He’s faster than I expect him to be. He dodges every bullet and manages to make it back around his car.
The air quiets.
“Leave him to me.”
“Hey, don’t be a hero,” Orrin says. “We’ve got this.”
“I said leave him to me.” My voice is laced with steel as I step out from behind the van, gun at the ready.
Nunzio stands on the other side of their car, his own weapon pointed in my direction. He sneers at me, blood trickling down his arm.
“You really think you can take me?” he taunts.
“You’re not worth anyone else’s trouble.”
He laughs, but it’s shaky. “You’ve never won against me, Ras. Not once.”
I don’t reply, just take a deep breath and aim my gun. “Why do you think that is?"
“Because you’re a fucking weak—”
My bullet pierces his skull.
Nunzio’s eyes go wide as he falls to the ground.
The bastard was too arrogant to pull his trigger before he finished his sentence.
Orrin appears beside me, surveying the bodies littering the pavement. He claps me on the back. “Cleanup’s going to be a bitch. I’ll get the boys to drop off the goods and then come back for us with supplies.”
Blood seeps out from under Nunzio’s body, the pool reflecting the moon and a starless sky.
I tuck the gun inside my waistband and stare at his ruined skull. There’s an unsettling emptiness inside my chest. I’ve fantasized about this moment for so many years, and yet I feel…nothing.
No closure, no joy, no relief.
My past has haunted me for so long, but at some point, it became irrelevant.
I scratch the side of my neck. Only one thing haunts me now, and it’s Gemma’s voice.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I don’t love you.”
CHAPTER 34
GEMMA
Rafaele started working on getting Papà out the day I returned, and a week or so later, Papà arrives at the house.
Mamma, Cleo, and I are waiting for him in the foyer, his core crew gathered around us.
When he walks through the front door, everyone acts like he’s some kind of a hero. There’s cheering and clapping. Someone pops open a bottle of champagne.
Papà laughs, triumphant. Even the Feds couldn’t keep Stefano Garzolo locked up. He is a legend. Weakened but undefeated. I hear the words “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” repeated over and over again.
When he comes to me, my muscles tense up on their own accord. It must be a new automatic response I’ve developed to him after what happened. He takes my stiff body into his arms and presses a kiss to my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Vince watching us, his lips a tight line.
“Gemma, my darling. I’m glad you’re here,” he says with a genuine smile. I guess he’s elected to move on from all the trouble I’ve caused now that everything’s fallen into place.
Has he also decided to forget the fact that the last time we saw each other, he tried to kick my ribs in? Before I muster up a response, he’s being corralled away by his men into the living room where a lavish feast has been laid out.
My back straightens. I wasn’t exactly expecting an apology, but this feels like a slap in the face.
I don’t want to ever speak with Papà again after I’m married. I wonder if Rafaele will allow that. Probably not, but maybe he’ll at least agree to never leave me alone in a room with Papà.
My shoulders slump. The fact that I’m days away from negotiating these kinds of things with Rafaele hadn’t hit me until now. We’re getting married in four days.
Cleo comes to stand by my side and crosses her arms over her chest. “Look at him.” She jerks her chin in Papà’s direction. “It’s like he just came back with a gold medal from the Olympics.”
The rest of our extended family arrives over the next few hours. The house starts to feel tight and loud, the level of conversation rising to deafening by the time everyone’s had a few glasses of wine.
I’m not drinking. My stomach hasn’t been feeling okay since this morning.
Tiredness pulls at me, but I force myself to hang around in anticipation of Rafaele’s arrival. I only saw him briefly the day I returned. He came by the house to verify for himself that I was back. He asked me only one thing—if there was anything I wanted to tell him.
I said yes. Then I asked him not to blame Ras for anything. I said it was all my fault, that I was so sorry. I said I was back now and couldn’t wait to get married.
He studied me for a long moment, nodded, and left. I don’t know if he bought it, but according to Vince, no one in New York is concerned with Ras at this point. Word of Rafaele’s succession leaked in the days after I returned, and now everyone knows it’s happening. That’s the only thing anyone seems to be talking about these days.
I press my back against the wall for support and try to engage in conversation with my aunts, but I can’t focus on a single word.
My head hurts.
I just want to be back in Ras’s arms. I’m certain that if I could do that, I’d feel better immediately. Instead, I’m surrounded by my family, but I’ve never felt so alone.