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God knows what he intends to do with the baby when he gets his hands on him. At best, he forces Rafe to step down in exchange for the baby's safety. At worst…well, the possibilities are too fucking grim to consider.
And Aurelia has been living with them weighing on her mind for months. She's been tormented with the possibilities for weeks, knowing if she does what Brio wants, she rips an innocent child from her brother's arms and condemns him. And if she doesn't, she condemns her mother to death. It's no wonder she's been so afraid to trust anyone. He made it fucking impossible for her to trust. How could she when the consequences of telling anyone the truth meant killing the woman who raised her? He fucking put that on her—made her live for months believing that she'd be responsible for the death of a child or the death of her mother.
I'm going to rip him apart for that alone. Every fucking moment of torment he's visited on her mind, he'll pay for in blood and flesh. I want him howling in agony.
But Rafe has a right to know exactly what's been going on, too. He's the Capo. This is his family. But make no mistakes about it. When Brio dies, I intend for it to be by my hand.
"He's plotting against you," I murmur, my voice pitched low. "I've got proof."
"You're surprised?" One of Rafe's dark brows arches. "I've been waiting for that shoe to drop since Elio dropped dead. Figured he'd have made a move long before now."
"He did. We just didn't catch it."
"What kind of move?"
I hesitate for a moment, reluctant to tell him the particulars out here with half a dozen of Chicago's Finest milling around. He isn't going to take it well, and I'd rather not have an audience for this shit.
La Cosa Nostra business is La Cosa Nostra business. That's always been our way. We don't parade it out in the streets. We don't involve the cops. We handle it behind closed doors.
But we're past that now because we've got two potential crises on our hands, and we need all hands on deck.
"He kidnapped Aurelia two months ago," I say, my voice flat. "He intended to use her against you. It didn't work out for him."
Rafe stops walking, turning to face me. "What the fuck, Mattia? How long have you known about this?"
"I've known bits and pieces for the last few days. There are reasons I didn't tell you, but believe me, Rafe. This isn't the place you want to discuss them." I cut my eyes at the nearest cop, silently reminding him that we have an audience. "I'll tell you everything you want to know as soon as we're finished here, but you need to call everyone in for this. Nico included."
Rafe eyes me for a long, silent moment, a muscle in his jaw ticking. And then he mutters a curse. "You better fucking hope we can trust her."
"She's my wife," I growl. "We can trust her."
Rafe's expression morphs from disbelief to fury in a heartbeat. "Married? You're fucking married? When the hell did this happen, Mattia?" His voice is a lethal whisper, meant only for my ears, but it carries the weight of a looming storm.
"Three days ago," I answer, my tone level. I understand exactly why he's pissed that I kept it from him. After everything this family has been through, we don't keep secrets, not like this. And this isn't some small thing. It's major. He doesn't even know just how major it is yet, either.
I'm fully aware that when he does know the truth, things will never be the same between us again. He's been the closest thing I've had to a brother for as long as I can remember. It's going to hurt like hell to lose that. But I don't regret my choice. It was the right one. Even if he never agrees, I'll stand by it. Even if he kills me for it, I'll die with a fucking smile on my face because she's mine.
"It was necessary, Rafe. It ensured her safety—and ours. I'll explain everything, just not here."
"You didn't fucking think to mention this yesterday? Or, I don't know, at any point in the last three days?"
"It's complicated. Far more than you realize."
Before he can respond, Luca jogs toward us, his face a mask of frustration. "The warehouse is a total loss," he mutters. "But the fucking cops aren't playing nice. They have questions for us. I'll hazard a guess that ninety percent won't have anything to do with the warehouse." He pauses, glancing between the two of us as if only just sensing the tension. "Lover's quarrel?"
"Mattia got married three days ago and failed to mention it," Rafe growls.
Luca's eyes widen as he processes the news.
"You got married without telling any of us? What the fuck, Mattia? Didn't we just go through this shit with Domani?"
Before I can respond, Rafe's hand shoots up, signaling for Luca to back off. He turns back to me, his jaw set. "I'm calling a meeting. We'll deal with this then. Right now, we need to focus on the immediate situation." His voice is clipped, authoritative. The Capo dei Capi has spoken.
And he's mad as hell.
Unfortunately, I don't have high hopes that anything I tell him in the meeting is going to improve his mood any.
Cazzo. This is a fucking shitshow.
