“I’ve been informed that Luca Marzano and the O’Hanlon girl have arranged an alliance.”
The breath catches in my lungs, and for a second, I’m drowning.
An alliance. That means they’re engaged. Luca was telling the truth.
I steady myself, bringing my hand up to curl around my necklace. “How lovely for them.”
“It’s nothing more than a power move,” he continues. “With both Marcus and Damon Papparado dead, Evie O’Hanlon has control of the Irish and the Italian branches of her family. Marzano saw his chance and took it.”
“Okay…” I struggle to contain both my irritation and my hurt. “Did you bring me all the way from California to tell me this?”
He looks at me from over the rims of his glasses, the expression in his eyes dampening my momentary boldness. I press my lips together, refusing to offer the apology he silently demands. After a moment, he continues.
“I’ll not sit by and let that Irish bitch take everything the Italians have worked for. I don’t fully trust the young Valachi Don—“
“Angel.”
“Yes, Angelus. They married into the Papparado and O’Hanlon clans, so there’s the chance he’s formed secret alliances.”
“Even with his sister dead?”
Recently, the Valachi family went tits up. The old Don Valachi died, and in the absence of young Angel, Damon Papparado seized temporary control by marrying the daughter, Luciana ‘Lulu’ Valachi. His boldness did not please the Commission, though, and both he and Lulu ended up dying at Angel’s hand. It turned out that Angel had been secretly working for the Commission all along and was able to step right into the vacuum created by Damon’s and Lulu’s deaths.
It was a cautionary tale for all of us who had ever considered defying the power of the Commission.
“Especially with his sister dead.”
“What do you want, then?”
The pen taps against his desk as he eyes me consideringly. “I believe it is time to unite the Scarpetta and Marzano families.”
Anger gathers within me with the speed and force of a tsunami. Sensing my unrest, Baccio whines, and I sink a hand into his fur, anchoring myself.
“Are you—”
—fucking kidding me right now?
I clamp my mouth closed on the words, knowing my father would hear nothing but the disrespect. “What are you saying, exactly?” I ask instead.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be dense, girl. Break them up, of course. We will form our own alliance.”
I feel ill, physically sick of the smell of God complex in the room. “That’s why… But you sent… You know that would have happened years ago if you hadn’t interfered in my and Luca’s relationship.” All these years spent away from my home, away from my family and friends… being forced to become an entirely different person…all of it was for nothing.
Father waves his hand, the pen glinting in the light. “Yes, well. Things change. I had expected Enzo to wed the Valachi girl, but if that fell through, my goal was to arrange something between you and Angelus. But then he disappeared, and everything went to shit.”
The chess moves are staggering, the logic behind them ill-conceived at best and crazed at worst.
“Angel is back now.” I don’t know why I bother to remind him. I have no interest in being linked to Angel. I shake my head.
Father notes the movement of my head, and his expression hardens. “Angel is Commission, even if he doesn’t yet have his seat. I can’t control him. Luca is an Untouchable now, and he can give me what I need. You did as you were told back then. You’ll do it now, too. Ruin their engagement and cement your own alliance.” He looks down at his desk and shuffles a stack of paper. “That will be all.”
With a sharp inhale, I turn on my heel and leave the room, Baccio trotting at my side. I shouldn’t be surprised that he would go to such lengths, manipulate me in such a way, but I can’t deny the stab of pain his maneuvering generates.
Luca was the one man I loved. The one person I trusted with everything—my heart, my body, my legacy.
The one thing I’d ever truly wanted. It was crippling when Father took him away.
I’ve spent the last five years doing my best to forget him and everything he meant, and now…this? It’s unconscionable. It’s the work of someone who has never loved and never lost.
And now I have to choose…again. My family or Luca. Despite the appearance of this making a way for all my dreams to come true, I’m not so foolish. If I do as my father bids, I’ll be right back beneath his thumb.
If I don’t…well, I might as well pack my bags and leave. For good, this time.
I head out to the back gardens. I need the cliffs today, need the stiff wind rolling up from the river to clear my head.
Seeing Luca in person yesterday brought everything back. It’s all still there—every ounce of passion and pain.
I don’t have what Evie O’Hanlon does, though. I don’t have her power; I don’t have her connections. I can’t give Luca those things.
And how can I give my heart to him again on command, knowing it’s a sham? How can I separate love and duty and still emerge unscathed?
Chapter 5
Luca
It’s showtime. The black tuxedo was crafted by our family tailor and suits the function I’m about to enter. Two of my men trail close behind, but not so close as to spook all the top dogs that will be here tonight. The police commissioner will be here, along with politicians, judges, and a few celebrities. It’s a world of money rubbing shoulders with influence and corruption.
Tonight is the annual NYPD fundraiser event, held at the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum located at Pier 86 on the Hudson River. The water laps against the Intrepid, and spotlights situated around the massive aircraft carrier shoot beams of light into the air, letting everyone know the party’s here. To me, it’s overkill, but so are most things in New York City.
The red velvet rope that stops people from entering the museum is lifted once each guest is cleared on the checklist. I approach, and my men fall in behind me. Having only two security men with me leaves me feeling unprotected, but arriving with a huge entourage would draw unwanted attention.
“Luca Marzano,” I state my name. Before it’s even out of my mouth, the red rope is lifted, and my men follow behind me as we walk up toward the entrance of the museum. The moment we step through the door, I accept a flute of champagne. Soft music plays from a live orchestra. Platters of finger food are being carried around the room, and I decline each time. Figs with goat cheese aren’t exactly my thing.
“Luca.” Judge Friar offers me a hand, and I accept. He’s a man you want on your side. Recently, he kept one of my men out of prison. A mere misunderstanding. My man was at the wrong place at the wrong time and accused of murder. A low-ranking member had thought he would get a fistful of money and safe passage to another land. He’s now resting at the bottom of the river, and as he was the only witness, the charges were dropped. A very easy decision for Friar.
“John.” I use his first name and smile fondly at the aging man who will soon retire. But not until I say so. Not until whoever takes his place is coached in all things Marzano and knows his place. Not until then will I allow John Friar to retire—a fact he doesn’t appreciate, but a few choice words about his family’s safety changed his mind quickly enough.