chapter 59

× WARNING ×

Content below intended for mature readers.

Read at your own risk. ×

◆ MILES ◆

Shoot the bastard? Watch the guy murder his own brother? Or shoot the bastard after watching him murder his own brother?

Miles weighed the pros and cons. Pacing behind him, his Mamma Eleana could barely contain her panic, shouting at the outrageous display of violence right in the middle of the pristine dining room.

The last person they expected to arrive here in the estate went on throwing punches at his victim. A stream of profanities. Loud grunts of palpable fury. Cries of terror and pain. The stoic armed guards surrounding the scene...

Everything looked so out of place. Miles gripped his gun but stayed put.

His best guess: Lorenzio had been enjoying an early dinner with Eleana, clueless that his brother would find him here and try to beat him to his untimely death.

Miles shushed his mother as they kept a safe distance from the Tomassini heirs. Let it all play out? Or interfere and possibly get himself killed?

"Leo! Ferma--" Lorenzio struggled to shield his face with his arms, nose already bleeding from the assault. Bright red streaks of his own blood now smudged his cheek and lips.

"Stupido! Tradictore! Figlio di putta--"

"Leandro, fermati! Per favore!"

"Mamma, stay out of it." Miles kept his panicking mother hidden behind him, but Eleana went on pleading for Leandro to stop using his brother's face as a punching bag.

"He's going to kill him!"

"Calm down."

"Look at him!" Eleana pointed at Lorenzio's curled up body as his arms desperately shielded his face from Leandro's furious jabs. "Berto, per favore!" she shouted to Lorenzio's bodyguard, who could barely get near his bosses out of cowardice.

Miles kept his ground. Muttering reassuring words to his Mamma Eleana wasn't enough to calm her down, clearly.

Her audible breathing sounded like she was about to start sobbing. Outright violence. Right before their eyes. His mother was not used to any of this. "Maxim, per favore..."

Did Leandro find out? That his own brother was just telling him and Ricchar that he was willing to send Leandro to prison? That Lorenzio had confessed about that night he visited one of their biggest warehouses in Florence and he caught Leandro and their men moving containers out to different locations?

What's worse? Lorenzio found out that the containers served as temporary prison cells of homeless teenagers captured against their will. Lorenzio also said he'd demanded answers, but Leandro only threatened to hurt him if he didn't stop meddling in their illegal transactions.

Hence Lorenzio deciding to give Ricchar some private information about Leandro's itinerary, so they could intercept future transactions Leandro and Stefano had been planning for their drug and prostitution rings. The assholes probably got bored with illegal arms deals in the black market. So now they're dipping their filthy hands into the human trafficking scene.

"Maxim, he's killing his own brother!" Eleana tried not to shriek but sounded like she was crying now.

Fuck this. They didn't need another senseless murder in their yard. "Leo!" Miles sighed and took a step forward, cocking his gun at the terribly disturbed psychopath. "Basta con le stronzate e vattene!"

At his loud command, Leandro stopped bludgeoning his own brother's face in. The guy got up from his knees to regard him, as if bothered by his sudden display of authority. "Vuoi morire o cosa?"

Great. Now he had to reason with a psychopathic murderer.

The lunatic stood over his injured brother's limp figure on the floor. Leandro stared at him and Eleana. He even grinned, the dangerous glint in his eyes enough for them to suspect which contraband he'd been snorting before he and his entourage got here.

"Get out. Kill him in your own house." Miles kept the gun pointed at the guy's face, stepping forward to show off he wasn't intimidated. Another murder in their territory? He did not sacrifice his peaceful, violence-free life in Brescia just to end up behind bars for someone else's mindless crime.

The grunts of pain coming from Lorenzio assured him the guy was still conscious and not fatally hurt. For now.

Miles wanted to sigh. Well, good enough that the guy was still in one piece. He was in no mood to dig a secret grave tonight.

"What's that?" Leandro smirked at him for a tense second. The veins along his brawny arms and neck threatened to pop while he clenched his fists. "You're telling me  what to do now?"



Miles ignored the slight tightening in his chest and the heavy gut feeling of something much worse happening soon if he said the wrong words. The psycho wasn't pointing a gun back at him, but Leandro was armed, too. Always.

No doubt about that. His bodyguards were definitely strapped as well. Miles pulled a face at the thought. One wrong move, his entire family would be mourning him and his Mamma Eleana first thing. The only good thing about this was that Mykaela wasn't here right now to witness all this bullshit.

"Vai! Come va il giro?"

Ricchar. Finally. Miles almost let out a breath of relief at the sound of his cousin's oddly cheery voice. The fuck took you so long?

At the sight of the actual owner of the house sauntering into the rather crowded dining area, Leandro stepped away from his brother whose arms still covered his head. Bloodstains now painted Lorenzio's sleeves a bright red. Lorenzio kept mum but watched his brother's every move.



Seeming totally cool and the least bothered, Ricchar ignored the scene. Ricchar even handed a glass of wine to Leandro, now seeming done with his unwilling victim for tonight. "Va bene?"

"Sì." Leandro wiped the sweat off his forehead with his bloody knuckle, his broad chest heaving as he caught his breath. He spat at Lorenzio and turned to grin back at Ricchar. "Non preoccuparti per lui."

Miles kept the gun pointed at the bastard but Leandro completely ignored him the moment Ricchar cut in.

"Ucciderlo sarebbe il contrario di dargli una lezione." After loosening his dark tie, Ricchar glanced to Lorenzio and simply nodded at the bodyguards. The security men immediately helped Lorenzio up to get him away from the irate brother, their big boss.

"Mio stupido fratello continuano a prendermi in giro." Leandro didn't bother throwing a glance at his brother and proceeded to drink the wine.

At this point, everyone in the room fell dead silent, merely watching the scene transpire before them. Not one of them dared to speak.

Playing the welcoming host, Ricchar put an arm over the psycho's shoulder to guide him away from them and his injured brother. Ricchar then led Leandro towards the tall patio doors. "Allora, possiamo parlare dei vostri investimenti? Del posto?"

◆

◇ KEL ◇



"What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to him. Ask him what he wants."

Mykaela narrowed her eyes at the phone nearing her face. It was hers, the one Miles gave her some months ago. Stefano took it from her about half an hour ago, while he was torturing Niccolo senseless.

Fortunately, Niccolo was still conscious beside her, weak but looking stable enough. Hopefully he wouldn't pass out from severe dehydration or his internal injuries.

The smell of his sweat had already mixed with the scent of blood that had trickled from his nose down to this chest. She'd helped him stop the bleeding while Stefano watched and kept himself busy in the corner with his phone.

"Talk to him? Miles?" she asked when she took the phone. She tried not to frown, no longer in the mood to play games. Her arms, legs and back hurt. What else did Stefano want her to do just so she could get out of here? They'd been stuck in the basement for about an hour and Niccolo needed medical attention now.

Was Miles okay? Was his mother okay? What was all the ruckus about?

Stefano walked away to sit back on the old desk in the corner. He glanced at Niccolo, who was still sitting on the floor with his handcuffed wrists behind him. "No."

"Then who?" she muttered, confused beyond words.

"Someone you must know by now."

"Call the number, Kel." Breathing through his swollen mouth, Niccolo nodded at her weakly after a grunt, obviously still in pain.

"What number?"

"The last call on the list."

Missed call? Why? She looked through the call logs. Her chest constricted for some reason. Why did Mr. Falco want her to talk to someone on the phone?

A different-looking number appeared on her screen, right on the top of the last call list, just as Niccolo said. It wasn't a local number.

"I don't know who this is," she murmured before glancing up to find the boss watching her every reaction. Possibly her every movement, too.

The basement remained dim but the coldness in his gaze rivaled no other. "I'm sure you've met him before." Stefano put on a crooked grin, his legs crossed as he watched her from afar.

Was it Andrew? One of Andrew's phone numbers?

"Call the number. Speaker mode, please." Stefano's tone sounded encouraging now, almost too calm, opposite of his true nature -- the ruthless side of him she just witnessed barely minutes ago. Every time he talked, his deep voice fairly echoed throughout the basement. As if his presence wasn't already bone-chilling enough.

Stefano Falco didn't point a gun at her but she didn't have to be told twice. She knew her ground. He was the alpha, the mafia boss. Mykaela knew better than to oppose. She dialled the number, switched to speaker, and waited.

The muffled rings echoed a bit, cutting through the silent tension in the poorly lit room.

"Ask him how he's doing and what he wants." Stefano gave her another fake smile, as though he was telling her everything would be fine if she just cooperated fully.

The ringing stopped. Someone picked up. A noiseless few seconds later, a not so familiar voice spoke. "Mykaela?"

At the sound of the mystery man's voice, Stefano perked up and listened in. He nodded twice to tell her to talk to whoever it was on the other line.

How did mystery guy know it was her number? She hadn't been handing out her new number to strangers since Miles had told her to keep it more private. "Yes. Who's this please?"

"Hello, dear. It's Ilya. Andrej's uncle."

The reply near froze her to her core. It was an odd kind of shock. It perplexed the heck out of her, but a dull ache in her gut told her this was not some random catch-up. Phone in her sweaty hand, she glanced to Niccolo. "Uh...hi, Sir. How have you been?"

"Apologies if this took you by surprise."

"No. No problem," she replied without stuttering, thankfully. The tightening in her chest wouldn't go away, for some weird reason. "Did Andrew give you my number, Sir?"

"Yes. Have you met up with him recently? He's in Los Angeles now, with Elizabeth. I believe."

Drew was still in L.A. with Beth? Why the heck didn't he just run for the hills to keep both him and Beth safe? Keep them away from prying eyes and ears? "Uh...no, Sir. We haven't talked, since we met up in Serbia."

"I see," Ilya replied monotonously, his accent still sounding more English than Russian. He was a full-blooded Russian business tycoon who owned a lot of land and companies. Typical head honcho from a clan of businessmen, as far as she recalled.

What now? She looked up from the phone to regard Stefano in the other side of the room.

He simply grinned at her, as though telling her to keep talking with Andrew's uncle.

For what particular reason? She had absolutely no clue. "How have you been, Sir?" she asked the person on the other end, actually curious. Last time they'd seen each other in person, she noted the older man had a few symptoms of early onset cirrhosis. She never asked to confirm it, though.

"A little unwell but coping. Thanks for asking," replied Ilya, his voice sounding a tad hoarse. "Are you still studying in New York, dear?"

"Uh..." She looked to the boss again.

Stefano only nodded his head and made a hand gesture for her to keep chatting. He was now texting on his phone, his gray head of hair concealing his bearded face.

"Yes, Sir. It's our graduation in a couple of months."

"Great to hear. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"I'll be in New York for a business trip next weekend. Do you have time to spare then?"

Next weekend? Drew's uncle was coming to New York? He wanted to meet up with her again? Why? Would Drew be there? The loud thumps her heart made inside her rib cage just hastened her intakes of breath.

Sitting beside her and listening to the phone conversation as well, Niccolo nodded at her to continue.

"Uh, sure, Sir. I'll try... I'll find time next week. Would you be traveling alone? Are you meeting up with Andrew?"

"Not sure. I'll call you then, Mykaela?"

Whoa. Another meetup? Just like that? She looked to Stefano, who now gave her a thumbs-up and another forced smile. "Sure, Sir," she replied to Andrew's uncle. "No problem."

"Take care, dear."

"You too, Sir." Puzzled and nervous, she tapped the red icon. The call ended.

"That wasn't bad at all, Mykaela." The big bad boss leisurely walked towards her and Niccolo, his leather boots making dull noises against the cement. An untrustworthy smile drew lines on his bearded face.

"Why do I have to meet up with him?"

"I'll tell you everything you want to know real soon. Just do what I need you to do." Stefano stepped closer to her and stroked her hair. Then he tucked his gun under his belt and murmured something to Niccolo. "Maxim doesn't need to know about this. Is that clear, Mykaela?"

"Sì, Signore." As if she had a choice.

"Alright. So, could you check on Lorenzio? He seems to be feeling unwell." Stefano took out his phone and called for his bodyguards.

The men would accompany him out of the basement and probably leave her alone here to deal with Niccolo.

Stefano gave her one last smile and headed for the stairs. He had no problem ignoring Niccolo's seething glare. "Leandro and I need to sort out some issues. See you all later this week. Be safe."

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