Malavita (23 page)

His eyes frosted over. “I got justice for my family.”

For a long moment she forgot to breathe, and it seemed her heart ceased to beat. She’d made excuse after excuse, she’d opened her heart, for a boy who didn’t want to marry her. A boy who didn’t care about her at all. A clever boy who’d taken advantage of her feelings and tried to use them to drive a wedge between her and Papà. “I’ve been such a fool,” she whispered. “I believed you when you said you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

“You broke the contract! You never wanted this marriage.” Tears rose to her eyes and she dashed them away. It all made terrible sense now—he’d romanced her despite his true feelings, and those had leaked out often enough that she should have known better.

“It’s true that I didn’t want it—at first. But once I got to know you—”

“Enrico Lucchesi with Antonella Andretti, the ugliest girl at school? I was delusional.” She opened the car door and scrambled out, her face flaming. That very first time he’d seen her, weeks ago at their breakfast, the look on his face then—
that
had been how he truly felt. He’d learned to cover it up, and she’d been fool enough to overlook every lapse. She’d done this to herself.

A car door slammed behind her and she sped up her steps toward home. “Toni!” Enrico called.

She made the rudest gesture she knew at him, but didn’t say a word. She was done with Enrico Lucchesi. Done. But if she tried to put that into words, she’d cry. And she’d never cry in front of him again. She’d never let him know just how deeply he’d wounded her.

“Toni.” Enrico took hold of her arm and swung her around. “Listen to me. I didn’t break the contract.”

“You killed those men!”

“The contract forbids our
fathers
from shedding blood. It says nothing about me doing so.”

“You know what the contract
means
. You
know
it. Even if you think you’re being clever, even if you get away with it, you were willing to risk our future for what you wanted most. And that
wasn’t
me.” Her voice broke in the most humiliating way, and she wrenched her arm free of his grasp.

Hunching her shoulders, she continued on her way. She’d trusted him, she’d given him her heart, and he’d given her what? A few kisses, a few false moments of happiness?

He caught up to her again. “Toni,
per favore
. I love you.”

She whirled on him. “You love me? You don’t know what the word means! You lied to me, Rico. You said you wanted this marriage. You never did. You led me on, you made me feel—” She choked on the next words, but forced them out anyway. “You made me feel
beautiful
. You made me feel
loved
. But it was all a lie.”

“You
are
beautiful. And I do love you. I don’t know how to prove it, but you just have to trust me.”

“My father was right. The Lucchesis have no honor.”

Enrico’s face darkened. “I did what I had to. If our positions were reversed, wouldn’t you have done the same?”

“
I
never would have said I loved you.”

“That wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t.” He looked so miserable, she almost believed him.

She crossed her arms. “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.” She swore her heart hurt, actually physically hurt. She closed her eyes. “Take me home.”

His voice, a hoarse whisper, almost undid her. “If that’s what you want.”

Without another word, without looking at him, she stalked back to the Ferrari and got inside. When they stopped in front of her house, she started to open the door, but Enrico grabbed her wrist.

“Toni, please. I beg you.”

“How many second chances do you think I have in me?”

He frowned. “When you put it that way, I feel like a shit.”

“That’s because you are one.” She yanked the door open and got out. Then she leaned back inside. “I hope you realize what you’ve done. Because maybe then you’ll grow up. And no other girl will have to suffer like I have.” She slammed the door and stormed into the house.

It didn’t take her long to find Papà. He was walking in the garden out back, smoking a cigar. As soon as she saw him, she burst into tears. He took her in his arms and stroked her hair. “What’s happened?”

“He did it, Papà. He killed them.”

“He admitted it?”

She nodded, wiping at her tears. “He never cared about me. You were right.”

“I am so sorry,
dolcezza
,” he murmured, his touch comforting, his voice heavy with sorrow. “Did you tell him the marriage was off?”

“No. But I’m sure he can guess.”

He stepped back from her and held her by the shoulders. “You will need to be strong for a while longer then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a plan.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What plan?”

“You just need to take the boy back. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Take him back? He
humiliated
me!”

“He won’t ever be able to do so again.”

A suspicion formed in her mind. “Why do you need me to take him back?”

“The wedding needs to go on. I need them vulnerable.”

Dio
knew Enrico had been horrible to her, but he’d had reason. And he never would have had that reason if she hadn’t done her father’s bidding in the first place. “Papà, no. I’m angry with him, but I don’t want him dead.”

“You want to marry him then? Because that’s the alternative.”

What if Enrico
did
care for her? What if he hadn’t been lying about that?

Her father took a draw on his cigar. “You can’t have it both ways. Do you want to marry him or not?”

So much hung on a simple yes or no. Just one word. She hesitated. How could she truly know Enrico’s heart? There had to be a way. “I need a while.”

“You don’t have long. The wedding’s in eleven days.”

“But what about the contract? If you break it—”

“If all the Lucchesis are dead, who will complain?”

A movement at the edge of her vision caught her eye, and she turned toward it, making a show of thinking for her father’s benefit. She saw it again. Enrico was peering at them from behind a hedge. The chrome of the gun in his hand glinted in the slanted evening sun, and her heart seized.

What was he doing here? If he’d been intending to kill them, why hadn’t he done it?

“Give me a day to think.”

“Of course,
dolcezza
.”

She waited until her father went into the house, then she marched straight for Enrico’s hiding place.

If all the Lucchesis are dead, who will complain?
Carlo’s words reverberated in Enrico’s ears. He raised the gun, but it shook and he dropped it back down.

Could he take Toni’s father away from her? Could he condemn her to suffer the pain he’d suffered?

If he didn’t, no one in his family would be safe. Even if killing Carlo cost him his own life, his father would be safe. Dom and Francesca would be safe. Nico would be safe. And Toni—Toni would find someone else. Someone who could put her first. The way
he
should have. A lump closed off his throat. He wished he could explain himself to her. He wished she could see the truth in his heart.

He wished he’d never hurt her.

But Carlo Andretti had to die. There was no other choice.

Enrico shifted position behind the bushes, getting ready to take aim again, and Toni’s eyes locked on to his position.
Madonna
. Had she seen him?

She was hesitating over ending the engagement. Did that mean she wanted him back, or just that she didn’t want him dead? Carlo seemed to be leaving the choice up to her. If she went through with the marriage, could Carlo be trusted to abide by her wishes? Or was he deceiving his own daughter too?

As soon as Carlo went inside, Toni beelined for Enrico’s position.
Merda
! He froze. It had to be a coincidence. She couldn’t have seen him...

She had. “Rico,” she hissed as she neared him. “What are you doing here? With a gun?”

He slipped the weapon in his jacket pocket and stood up. He didn’t want to lie to her, so he said nothing. She stared up at him, her eyes narrowed, her full lips pressed into a thin line. “You were going to shoot him. Weren’t you?” When she put a hand over her mouth to cover her trembling lips, he looked away. “You were,” she said, her voice cracking.

He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t stare that raw pain in the face. “What else am I supposed to do? You heard him.”

“You didn’t know that when you crept back here. You truly
don’t
care about me. And here I was, wavering once again, actually considering taking you back.”

He met her eyes. “If I
didn’t
care, I would have shot him in front of you.”

“So you’d spare me that. How generous.”

“You think I haven’t been agonizing over what his death would do to you? I’ve felt that pain. I still feel it. Every. Single. Day. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to run the risk of your brother coming for me and then having to kill him. I don’t. But what choice do I have?”

Her face blanched when he mentioned Dario. “You’d shoot Dario too?”

“If I had to.”

The look she gave him was so full of loathing he wanted to crawl under a rock, where he belonged. “I’m sorry, Toni. It’s the truth. You know they feel the same way.”

“This has to
stop
. It has to. You say you love me. Then prove it. For me, for my sake, one of you has to be the better man. And it won’t be my father.”

“So it has to be me.”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on his face. “Swear it, and I will know that you love me. Swear that you will keep the peace, that the
faida
dies with our marriage.”

He wanted to say yes. But… “Your father can’t be trusted to do the same. He could still intend to kill me and my family.”

“He won’t. Trust me, he won’t.”

“If I do as you ask, I’m putting my life, my father’s life, the lives of my cousin and his family, in
your
hands, Toni. You are certain?”

She arched a brow and crossed her arms. “So how does it feel, being the one who has to trust?”

“Frightening.”

And then she said something that surprised him to the core. “I am probably the biggest
idiota
who ever walked the planet, but I want to believe in you, Rico. I want to believe that your feelings for me are real.”

Hope lit a spark in his chest. “They
are
.” He paused. “They always will be.”

“You will trust me, then? You will let my father live?”

He thought of Mamma, Primo, and Mario, who would never be fully avenged. He thought of Nico, who would be safe only if Enrico stayed a virtual stranger to his son.

Could he truly set aside his hatred of Carlo? Could he gamble with the future of everyone related to him by blood? Could he put his faith, his trust, in the slender girl who stood before him, a girl he’d betrayed and manipulated? A girl who still loved him, who still believed in him, despite everything he’d done?

“I put myself in your hands, Toni.”

She took a faltering step forward, then another, and then she was in his arms. Where she belonged. She clasped him close, her body shaking. “I have never been so scared, Rico. I thought you were going to say no.”

“I thought so too.” He hugged her tight and spoke, wanting to lighten the mood. “But how could I deprive you of giving me my fourth—or is it fifth?—second chance?”

She chuckled and punched him in the side, hitting one of his many bruises from the attack on Gennaro. “Ouch.”

She stepped back and wiped her eyes. “Are you trying to tell me I’m being a fool, trusting you?”

He shook his head. “You are one of the smartest people I know, Toni. And I’m honored that you are willing to trust in
me
.”

“I will always give you a second chance, Rico.
Dio
help me.”

He laughed. ‘You’ll probably need that help. I don’t know what I’m doing from minute to minute.” He sobered and touched her cheek. “But I do know this. I love you, Antonella Andretti.”

She gave him a wide smile, and he couldn’t stop from kissing it off her lips. She molded her body to his, and every cell in his being responded. Every cell rejoiced. In eleven days, she’d be his.

In eleven days, if all went as planned, the
faida
would be over, and their families would know peace.