Chapter 41

LUCA

For a second I thought it was Freya saying my name, as she was the only person allowed to call me that. But this voice didn’t give me the sparks that hers usually did. It couldn’t be her.

I turned quickly, only to see Angelina emerging slowly from the darkness, an odd smile on her face.

I raised an eyebrow. “What did you just call me?” Bruzzatore came to the surface, angry at the disrespect we’d just received from her.

Her smile only grew. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against a nearby tree. “Did I ever tell you where I grew up, Luca?”

~So Angelina has a death wish?~ I crossed my arms and tilted my head.

~Okay, I’ll play along.~ “No, Angelina, I don’t think you did,” I said grimly.

“You know, it’s kind of a coincidence actually,” Angelina said, laughing slightly as she stepped away from the tree and approached me. “I grew up in Naples—right around the area that you just came from.”

I actually hadn’t known that, which was strange. I’d thought I knew everything about her when I asked her to become my destra. “You told me you were from Toronto,” I said.

“Tsk-tsk, Don. You really need to get to know your family members better,” she said, coming to stand right in front of me.

“I moved to Toronto with my mom when I was eighteen. ~Il resto della mia vita l'ho passato a Napoli con il mio fedele.~”

~The rest of my life I spent in ~Naples~ with my father,~” I thought quickly.

~So she speaks ~Italian~.~ I was starting to think I didn’t know my destra half as well as I thought I did.

“You’re right. I didn’t know that,” I said, “because you didn’t tell me.” I stepped closer to her. “Why?”

She laughed softly. “Just you wait. I’m getting to that part.”

She looked me up and down slowly, as if she was sizing me up. “I actually think you met my dad while you were in Naples. He’s the destro of the mafia family there.”

My brows knit together. “That’s not possible. I barely left the hotel while I was in Naples. I was too busy taking care of your donna.”

“Carlo Medici,” Angelina said. “My father’s name is Carlo Medici. Ring a bell?”

I sucked in a quick breath. That was the name of Freya’s stepfather—the man I had nearly killed.

“You’re telling me that your father, Carlo, is the destro of one of the biggest mafia families in the world?”

“Was,” Angelina spat out bitterly. “He ~was~ the destro of one of the biggest mafia families in the world. But he’s not anymore. He had one encounter with you and your bitch ~destino~—”

A roar ripped from my throat, and I lunged for Angelina without a second thought, fully intending to remind her of her place. No one got to speak about my ~destino~—their donna—like that. I was about to grab her throat and slam her into the tree behind her when she held up a hand and blinded me with an intense white light from her flashlight.

I lost balance and stumbled to the ground, trying to blink the stars out of my eyes. Before I could recover, I felt a sharp stab of pain in the side of my neck. I roared and grabbed Angelina, pinning her to the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I roared.

My vision cleared, and I saw her grinning up at me from the ground. “Let go of me, Luca.”

Suddenly, I was jerked backward, and I was forced to let go of Angelina. It was like my body was moving on its own, fire instead of blood coursing through my veins.

“What the fuck?” I yelled. I looked at Angelina, who was just watching me with a smile on her face. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“Quiet,” Angelina said, and my mouth immediately slammed shut as if someone else was controlling it. “Now help me up, will you? The ground isn’t very comfortable.”

I moved robotically and helped Angelina up, despite me wanting to wrap my hands around her throat.

~How the fuck is she doing this?~

“Jeez, you really have anger issues. You need to work on those.”

Bruzzatore thrashed in my mind, trying to get free, but it was no use. There was something holding him back from taking control.

Angelina cleared her throat. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, my father had one encounter with you and…well”—she paused and chuckled menacingly—“my darling stepsister…”

~Freya…~ ~I thought frantically.~

“And the next thing you know, he was magically stripped of his position as destro and found beaten to a pulp in an alley.” Her expression darkened deeply, all humor leaving her voice as she spoke her next words: “And now he’s dead.”

I sucked in a breath. Carlo was dead? That couldn’t be possible! I had sent some men to teach him a lesson, but I’d never ordered them to kill him. Freya had begged me to spare his life, and I had planned to keep my promise.

Another thought hit me: ~What about Freya’s mother?~

“Didn’t know that, huh?” Angelina said bitterly. “You sent your stupid little minions to beat him nearly to death and then didn’t bother to check up on him afterward. You just left him to die; you didn’t even care. And all for what? Because he hit your precious little ~destino~? He died—was killed for one simple mistake.”

She shook her head. I could see tears forming in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

“And to think that I actually liked you,” she continued quietly. “I respected you. I trusted you as my don and wanted to work under you. It’s why I chose to be your destra. But you no longer deserve my respect. I never thought you were capable of doing what you did. You’re going to pay for it now,” she said, her tirade ending abruptly.

She circled me slowly. I was still defenseless, unable to move or open my mouth to speak. And it was pissing me off. She came to stand in front of me once more and grimaced when she looked at my face.

“There’s another thing you don’t know about me, Don.”

I raised my eyebrows at her questioningly. Bruzzatore cracked his knuckles in my mind.

“Do you remember the day you appointed me as your destra?” she asked.

I thought about it. I should have remembered it. It was a very important decision—one that I hadn’t made lightly. But the harder I tried to remember that day, the more it seemed to slip from my memory. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. I was still unable to talk.

Angelina sighed. “You may speak now. Just don’t interrupt me, and promise to listen quietly.”

My jaw slackened painfully.

“I don’t know how you’re fucking doing this, Angelina, but let me move right now before it’s too late. You’re skating on extremely thin ice.”

She rolled her eyes. “Add ~terrible listener~ to the list of things wrong with you—along with ~murderer~ and ~egotistical asshole~,” she snapped.

I clenched my teeth together, trying to break free of whatever she was doing to me, but it was no use.

“We’re far past that point,” she quipped. “It was over for you the second my father drew his last breath. Now, let’s get back to my question: do you remember the day you appointed me as your destra?”

I swallowed a vicious reply, instead opting to say, “No. I don’t remember that day.” I ground my teeth together. “Why can’t I remember that day, Angelina?”

Her smile only grew. “Oh, you’re about to find out just how little you really know about your destra.” She began circling me again. She held out an empty syringe, a drop of blood—my blood—rolling down the needle. My neck throbbed at the sight of it.

“What do you think this is, Luca?”

“A drug? Some kind of paralysis?” I asked, my brain working in overtime. She must have used this same drug on me the same day I made her my destra. That’s why I couldn’t remember.

“Use your head, idiot. Would a simple paralysis drug let me control you? Pat your head and rub your tummy.”

I did so, unwillingly. Her voice compelled me to do as she said, and I was powerless to resist.

She laughed sadistically as she made me act like a fool.

“Now what could possibly force someone to listen to everything I had to say? What family has the means and the desire for something so dangerous?” Angelina smiled, waiting for me to connect the dots.

“The Rossis,” I whispered, my eyes going wide. “The mind control serum!”

“Such a crude word for it,” Angelina shook her head. “But yes, that’s essentially it. It compels you to do what I say. What members of the Rossi family say. And the dose I gave you was just a taste. It’s capable of much more.”

“Why?” I groaned, trying to fight the invisible shackles of the drug coursing through my veins. “Because that’s what family does, Luca. They stand up for each other. They ~avenge~ each other. And yes, the Rossis are family. Distant cousins to the Medicis, to me and my father, but family nonetheless.”

Angelina smiled and ran a finger down my face.

“And you’re about to find out just how powerful we are…”