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“Anyway, we, ah, started spending more time together and I hired her to work at Rossi Vineyard. Apparently, Durant didn’t like that. He started following Hannah and she’d get upset and call me.” Well, until that last time. She didn’t call and, instead, willingly got right into Durant’s car and went to dinner with him. My already unsteady gut churns.
“It makes sense,” Milano says. “Caleb has always been a vengeful fuck who doesn’t deal well with rejection.”
“He’s always been jealous of us and our control,” Aldo DeLucca, Alessia’s father, adds. “Personally, I don’t do business with him and I never will. He’s an arrogant prick who can’t be trusted.”
“So we make sure he’s no longer a threat. To any of us.” Miceli looks out over the others. “We start by destroying his business.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Gabriella Bianche asks. She’s a feisty one. Cousins to Rocco Bianche who Micelli killed after he’d kidnapped Alessia.
“It’ll work,” Enzo responds. The two of them stare at each other a moment too long and I wonder if I’m the only one who notices the tension there. Hmm, very interesting. I’m going to have to ask my little brother how he feels about the lovely Ms. Bianche.
“Then we take him out permanently,” Miceli states, interrupting my thoughts. “Anyone have an issue with that?”
No one says a word.
“Good.”
Until recently, I’ve stayed out of the meetings and political BS when it comes to the Five Families. I know what we all do, what we’re capable of doing, yet I’ve kept my distance and ignorance. But sitting here now, seeing how things are handled and how they get done sends a chill down my spine. Honestly, I’ve never been happier to be the second-born son. If I have my way, I’ll focus on running our legit business, Rossi Vineyard, and leave the “permanent” stuff to the others. I was never meant to be a mafia leader and I’m quite content that role fell to Miceli.
The ruling families are more bloodthirsty than I knew and they would never let an enemy usurp even a fraction of their power or hold on the city. And, though I normally don’t feel the need to defend my territory or fully embrace the breadth and depth of the mafia power my family holds, I remember the rage I felt at the restaurant earlier. How I stormed up to Durant and wanted to kill him. Wanted to destroy him with my bare fists. He brings out my mafia blood, making it boil, and when I picture his smug face, I know I’m just as capable of doing the horrific things that everyone else in this room is, too.
If Caleb Durant touches one hair on Hannah’s head, I will end him. Permanently and with zero remorse.
17
HANNAH
I’m not sure if I eventually passed out or just cried myself to sleep. Whatever the case, my dreams are filled with Vin and he’s always just out of my reach, disappearing the moment I reach out to touch him.
At some point, morning comes and it’s Saturday, so I tuck my knees up to my chest and don’t worry about getting up or going to work. I’m still trying to decide if I can stay and work for Vin, but I don’t see how that’s going to be possible. It’s just going to be too damn painful to face him every day. I don’t think my heart can take it.
Drifting in and out of sleep, putting off getting up, I start having strange dreams about Caleb. I’m back on the auction platform and, this time, Vin doesn’t come to my rescue. Caleb ends up winning me and as he’s dragging me out, I scream for Vin.
Jumping up from the nightmare, my eyes pop open and I breathe a sigh of relief. It isn’t real, just a dream. Suddenly, a loud banging fills the air. Or, maybe someone’s been banging for a couple of minutes now. I’m still fuzzy from sleep so I’m not sure.
“Hang on, I’m coming,” I grumble, shoving my sleep-mussed hair back. Everything sways when I stand up and I give myself a moment to get steadied. Pain throbs through my head from drinking too much and my bleary eyes take a moment to adjust.
When I finally reach the door, I hear a woman saying my name. Who is here so early? I wonder and pull the door open. My gaze lands on Carlotta and there’s a beautiful woman with long, dark hair standing beside her.
“Carlotta? What’re you doing here?”
“We’ve come to mediate,” Carlotta announces, walking past me. “Hannah, this is Alessia, Miceli’s wife.”
“Um, hi,” I say, watching as they stroll into my dark apartment and begin opening the blinds and windows.
“Ugh, you need some fresh air in here,” Carlotta states, wrinkling her nose. “It smells like a winery.”
“That’s being polite,” Alessia says. “More like a brewery.”
They eye the empty wine bottle still sitting on the coffee table.
“One bottle isn’t that bad,” Carlotta comments. “I’ve drowned my sorrows in more than that before.”
After clearing away the empty glass and bottle, they fluff the pillows on my couch and sit down. Looks like this is going to turn into an interrogation whether I like it or not.
“Can I wash up first?” I ask, looking from one woman to the other. My teeth have a layer of scum on them and my face feels crusty from all the salty tears I cried.
“Please,” Carlotta says, plucking a bottle of electrolyte water from her large handbag. “You need to hydrate, too.”
