22| Truths

Chapter 22

Alice

I'm so stupid, so fucking stupid. Why didn't I see the signs? There were so many of them, all in my damn face, and like an idiot, I didn't even think to put everything together because I was wrapped up in my head.

The signs were there: the random cuts on his face, the week-long trips, the random gunfire I used to hear in the background. Alessio's fucking relentlessness in bringing a gun into the house.

It was all there, but I ignored them-every single one, writing it off as him being a good worker, maybe even a worrisome husband. But it was all wrong.

What kind of man who almost never forgets a thing and who seems as nimble as a cat hit his head on a fucking cabinet. I've been in their break room with him. He knows every inch of it like the back of his hand.

I look at Charlie in the back seat, fast asleep, making my heart wrench. You don't deserve this, Charlie. You didn't deserve to see my cry like that or for you to be locked in a goddamn closet. I let out a yawn.

God, I need to find somewhere to sleep. It's one in the morning now. I eye my duffle bag, which holds my phone. My phone hasn't stopped ringing since I began driving for about two hours now. Alessio's name has been popping up excessively, followed by Aria's.

How dare he. How dare he use Aria's phone in an attempt to call me.

He knows I don't want to speak to him. There's nothing for him to say to defend himself for what he's done to me, the secrets he's kept from me-his wife!

Aria's name pops up on the screen again. A photo of us together, sitting side by side eating a burger, is etched on the screen. Our happiness was captured by none other than the head murderer himself.

Aria...fuck. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, willing my eyes to stay open as I drive down the road.

I thought she grew up in a poor household, living on her own-stealing money and swindling people. I didn't even fathom that she could be capable of what Alessio does. She was holding a gun as if it was nothing at all. And the blood...she didn't even blink at it. Aria wasn't afraid. She wasn't even fazed.

Fuck...she's twelve.

When I was twelve, I was just running around with my friends being a kid, eating ice cream, and watching scary movies I was too young for. I went to amusement parks had my first kiss-things kids do. I didn't have guns pointed at me, let alone have one in my hand like a phone.

My phone rings again, fucking Alessio! Stop calling me. I pull to the side of the road and grab my phone.

Fifty-six calls from Alessio.

Forty-three from Aria.

And countless text messages all saying the same thing.

Please come home.

I am sorry.

I wanted to tell you.

We've been together for almost five years. If Alessio wanted me to know, then I would have already known by now. But he didn't. He didn't want me to know.

I click four letters L-I-A-R before hitting send and forever block Alessio's number.

Then almost instantly, I get a call from Aria, who I know is Alessio in disguise. I answer the phone, "what, Alessio!"

"Alice, where are you?"

I laugh, actually laugh. "Why does it matter to you? We're done as far as I'm concerned," the words hurt when they leave my mouth. I didn't want this. I didn't want to break up with him. When I made my vows, I meant them every single word, but he's a murderer.

And I can't stomach lying next to him every day, being inside of me, whispering he loves me when he does such atrocious things. I can't stomach it. I can't allow it to be my reality. The way he killed those men, so expertly, so cruelly without a hint of humanity inside of him-I can't live that way.

I refuse to.

"Alice, no...we can't be."

"You lied! You told me you were some CEO for a paper company, but that's a lie, right?" He's silent. "Right Alessio! Be honest! Tell me who you are, tell me how you're a goddamn murderer."

"Yes, fuck...yes. The company I work for does not sell paper. We-we're a murder for hire that travels across the world killing powerful underground people." I feel sick.

"So...everyone, they're-"

"Yes," he says, cutting me off. "Every single person in there has blood on their hands."

Trust me, you and Alessio only know a small portion of who I am and my reactions.

"Oh God, and Leo own it?"

He sighs, "yes...he does."

Lie, after lie after fucking lie. I hang up the phone and immediately call Leo. "Leo! How long? Why? I thought we were friends!"

He's silent, "I take it he informed you," he says with a hint of irritation.

I run a hand through my hair. "I'm so confused. How do you even know Alessio? Where did you find him?"

"Alice, that's a long story."

"Well, you better start because I found out my husband is a killer, and so is one of my oldest friends."

He clears his throat, soft baby-like murmurs come through the phone. Any other day, it would soothe me, giving me a large dosage of serotonin that would plant a smile on my face for the rest of the day. "Well, where do I start."

"From the beginning would be helpful," I say, full of venom.

Leo begins the bloody sad story of Alessio, his first love, Jace, and him. It's a sick story filled with way too much death and too many sacrifices a person has to make that led Alessio to a comfy chair in a murder corporation.

"And your family," I say hoarsely. "Are you telling me you and Jace and Mr. and Mrs. Morte are-"

"Yes, we are."

I start to shake. This is crazy-too crazy. I stayed at their house. I went to their family functions. We vacationed together. For all I know, they were torturing people in the basement. Hell, based on the shit Leo just told me, it's more likely there was than the chance they weren't.

I hang up without another word.

Alessio, Leo, Tara, Odette, Damien! Killers! Murderers.

I turn on the car and continue driving. I'm tired, so fucking tired. I go until I stop at an express hotel that can't have more than two stars during my erratic packing other than packing things that don't match in the slightest. I did manage to grab my wallet.

I can at least pay for things.

I walk into the hotel. It's shabby-a poster place for prostitution, drug smuggling, and everything else but a slightly better facade than a motel. I open the back door for Charlie, and he follows close behind me as I arrive at the hotel front desk.

She eyes Charlie and my bag. I already know what she's going to say. No pets are allowed, but I'm not leaving Charlie. He is the only honorable and honest thing in my life.

I put five hundred dollar bills on the counter with my platinum card next to it. She eyes it and then me, silently confirming that she'll let us in. Money talks, even more so than any rules.

"Would you like a single or a double?" She asks.

"Whatever's available," I say.

She types on the computer swipes my card, then hands me a room key and my credit card back. She takes the bills on the counter as soon as the room key hits my hand. "You're in room 412." She motions to the elevator, and I go for it with Charlie in tow, not before taking a few meat-related snacks for Charlie and instant ramen from the small convenience store next to the hotel front desk.

I get onto the elevator and click four, readjusting my duffle bag on my arm. Charlie wags his tail. His eyes are bloodshot red, and I know he's tired. Hell, I'm tired.

I was sleeping for one moment. Asked my husband to get me a few snacks, next thing I know, I had a gun to my head, and my husband and childhood friend were murderers.

I walk down the hall, following the numbers one by one until I reach the door. Unlocking it, I'm shown one of the shabbiest hotels rooms I've ever seen.

It'll work.

I make sure the door is locked, followed by deadlocking it and placing a chair in front of it. I look down at Charlie whose already taken his spot on the end of the bed, blissfully asleep almost instantly.

God, I wish I was like him, sleeping with not a care in the world without the images of those men with bullet wounds in the middle of their forehead every time I close my eyes. I shred off the clothes I threw on and get in the shower. I use the hotel soap, branding the vanilla scent onto my body, letting the bits of blood that were clung to my body go down the drain.

I shake at the sight of all the blood. How many times has he done this? How many times has he watched blood go down the drain-human blood from the people he has killed.

How many people has he killed?

Hundreds? Thousands?

I get out of the shower, quickly drying off. I put on my clothes in record time to combat this hotel air conditioning. My phone rings again, making me stiffen.

Alessio, it can't be anyone but him. What number is he using now? I wouldn't pass him getting a new phone just to call me. There's nothing for him to say, nothing for him to do to erase what he is, what he's done.

I look down at my phone.

Mom.

My eyes begin to water, and I immediately answer the phone. "Mom," I cry out.

"Baby, what happened? Alessio has been calling me all night, asking where you were. I would have responded sooner, but I was on a plane and got over thirty missed calls from him when I turned my phone on. What happened? Did he cheat on you? Is that it? Because we will end him. I only need to make two calls to take everything from him. That little company he runs will have our names on it by the end of tomorrow."

I chuckle. "God, I wish he was just cheating on me." I would know exactly what to do. But this? There's no tutorial on how to deal with finding out your husband is a murderer.

"Huh?" Mom says.

I clear my throat. "Mom, Alessio...he's a murderer." She's silent. "He works for Leo, and he...no that whole Morte family are a mafia family-like guns, drugs, and money type of Soprano bullshit."

"Alice..." she says.

"And like mom, we're friends with that family. We ate with them! Laughed with them and had so many momentous moments, and it's like it was all a lie. I-"

"I knew," she says, stopping my rant.

"What?"

"I knew...I knew since I was a little girl about the Morte family."

"What, mom, what the hell are you talking about? What do you mean you knew about the Morte family."

"Because," she curses under her breath. "Because Alice, our family is not good people either," Mom says. She sighs, "our family, to be more specific, is a part of an organization of families called the twelve," she says. "We control most of the American soils underground world."

"Mom...what? You-" I comb through my hair with a shaky hand. This is too much.

"I had no intentions of ever telling you," she quickly says. She lets out a deep sigh. I hear the fumblings of covers in the background as if she's getting comfortable.

"Once upon a time," she starts. "long before me, our family has been involved with this lifestyle. Since I was a young child. Me and your aunt and uncle have been 'trained' or groomed for this lifestyle. All the businesses and whatnot are a front for an over-arching life filled with dirty things. Alice...my sweet girl. I had intentions for you to be involved from the very moment I looked into your beautiful eyes as a child."

I have nothing to say to her confession. This has to be a joke, a big joke. My family, being a part of this shit.

Lies, more lies. Every single thing I knew about my life.

"The reason for your constant summering and hanging out with the Morte brothers was because once you were to marry Jace Morte and combine our families, but you showed no interest in him."

I ball my fist. So, my childhood was just a form of grooming me? To be some type of bloody mafia bride? "Are you serious, Mom? An arranged marriage! Underground world! This is so fucked!"

"Honey," she sighs. "If- it's a generational lifestyle, one that I've lived through, and I know from an outside eye how crazy it sounds. But-"

"Crazy! It's more than crazy. It's insane, inhumane!"

"Alice, this is the life our family has built. You weren't even supposed to be a part of it. You're not a part of it."

"But funny enough...I am," I cry. "And my daughter and husband are too, and they're in deep, so deep that a little thing like murder doesn't even faze them. A gun was pointed towards my head today."

"What?"

"Yes! And then I watched my husband kill four men without a care in the world. I can't live like this!"

"Alice... I know this is hard, but this is a good thing."

"How is this good? In what way is this good, mom!?"

"Because...Alessio can protect you. Something like before will never happen again."

"Like before?" I ask, what is she talking about.

She curses, "there's one more thing I haven't told you. Fuck..."

"What?" I cry. What possibly else is there to talk about? What else is there for her to say to me to make my life even more hellish?

"Your accident," she holds in her breath. "I am such a failure as a mother. Your accident was planned. Someone was trying to kill you and your father."

"What?" I say, my words breaking as they come out. I run another hand through my hair.

Hell, I went through hell all because of this world, this lifestyle my mom and family want to live. My father...he died because of this. I almost died time after time again-suffering to even eat a tiny morsel of food because of this life.

"Alice-"

"Mom, do not ever contact me again."

And I hang up the phone and break it before someone else could call me again.

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