Revenge (43 page)

“Antonio.” He turned toward her, holding the
door half open. “Tell me how he is.”

He faltered, looking away from her, then he
closed the door and sat in the overstuffed chair next to the
window. “Don Lucchesi is…” He groped for the words. “He is…”
Antonio sighed and scrubbed a hand through his blond hair, leaving
it sticking up in rooster tails. “He is not well,” he finally
said.

A little jolt zinged through her. “Does he
have an infection? Is he in the hospital?”

He hastily shook his head. “He is not well
here
,” he said, tapping his chest. “His heart aches for
you.”

“Oh.” Kate sat back against the pillows piled
in front of the headboard. She crossed her arms over her stomach,
imagining she could feel the barest little bump in her abdomen,
even though it was far too early. She caressed the spot, feeling
lonely all of a sudden. She missed Enrico, missed the way he smiled
whenever he saw her, his face lighting up like the sun had just
come out. She missed the feel of his arms around her. When she
remembered his wild, infectious happiness after she’d accepted his
proposal, her throat closed up until it ached. The last time she’d
seen him, he’d been so distressed. Like all the joy had gone out of
the world. “What does he ask about when he calls?”

Antonio shrugged. “How are you. Are you
eating, is the baby well. If I know where you go when you
leave.”

She absently corrected him, feeling deflated
that Enrico wanted to know her travel plans. “It’s ‘if I know where
you will go
when you leave.’”

“
Grazie.
”

“What do you tell him? About where I’m going,
I mean.”

He gave her a blank look and a shrug, his
arms spreading apart. “Nothing. I do not know.” He looked at her
for a second, then he leaned forward, clasping his hands between
his knees. “
Signora
, he loves you. And the baby too. He is a
very good man. I do not understand this”—he waved a hand around in
the air, as if searching for the right word—“this separation from
him.”

She leaned forward too. “He lied to me. About
a lot of things. I cannot trust him.”

“If he lied, it is to protect you.”

Kate shook her head, holding his gaze. “Maybe
about some things. But this lie was to protect himself.”

“
Signora
, there must be a
mistake.”

“He killed a judge and his family. A judge
who was trying to put him in jail.”

Antonio sat back, his lips compressing
together. He crossed his arms. “That is not true.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?”

He paused. “I was not there,
signora
.
But I know him. He is not that kind of man.”

“He’s a Mafioso. He does what he wants.”

He huffed in amusement. “You think every man
of honor is a criminal.”

“Aren’t they?”

Antonio uncrossed his arms and leaned toward
her again. “Not all crime is bad.”

“Next you’re going to tell me black is white
and the sky is red.”

He took a second to process what she said,
then he shook his head. “You do not understand me. Some crimes are
necessary. For justice.”

“You mean killing in revenge?”

“Yes, that is one. That is a law of God, so
it is no crime. Not paying all of the taxes? Also not a crime. The
Italian government”—he made a face like he smelled something
bad—“is corrupt, greedy, wasteful. Don Lucchesi uses his tax money
to build schools, homes for orphans like me, and other worthy
causes. The government throws that money in the garbage.”

“That may be true. But it
is
a crime
to kill a judge for doing his job. It’s a crime to kill that man’s
innocent family. You cannot tell me any different.”

“I agree,
signora
. But Don Lucchesi
will not kill a judge. He will never kill women and children.”

“You don’t
know
that.”

He thumped his chest again. “I know in here.
That is all that counts.” He waited a beat, then said, “Don
Lucchesi believes in the old ways, the old codes of the
‘Ndrangheta. He does not sell drugs or women. He does not kill
women and children. These things are forbidden.”

Kate looked at him with interest, mulling
over what he said. It reminded her of Enrico’s slip about Carlo—“he
violated our codes.” But she couldn’t be sure. Enrico could be a
clever con artist. Like Vince.

She sighed. “I need to sleep.”

He started for the door, then walked over to
the bed instead. He sat on the edge, his blue eyes moving up her
body. She was suddenly very aware of him, as she’d been when he’d
carried her from the elevator. Her breathing quickened. He clasped
his hands together in his lap, staring down at them. “I wish my
English was perfect,” he said. Then he looked at her. “I want you,
signora. Molto
,
molto
. But I love Don Lucchesi, so I
will not touch you. I look, but I will not touch.”

She stared up at him, her mouth dry. “What do
you mean?”

“If Don Lucchesi was a bad man, I will not
work for him. And I will do what I want.” His eyes roamed the
length of her body, but his hands stayed clasped together. Then he
looked up at her, holding her eyes with his.

“I understand. Your English is good enough.
But I do not agree with your opinion of him.”

He frowned and stood up. He hesitated, then
said, “
Signora
, you must go back to Don Lucchesi. If you do
not, Don Andretti is waiting.”

Antonio must have seen her shudder, for he
said, “I am sorry. I do not mean to scare you, but if I must, I
will.
Signora
,
per favore
. Consider what I say.
È
molto importante.
”

“I will,” she said, and meant it. She
couldn’t afford to forget about Carlo. But that didn’t mean she was
going to risk her baby’s life on what she hoped and wanted to be
true about Enrico. That Antonio shared her delusion didn’t comfort
her. The boy in Antonio longed for a father, and he thought he’d
found one.

She hoped for his sake that Enrico was the
right choice. But she couldn’t take that risk herself. Not with the
baby along for the ride. No, she had to be much more
steely-eyed.

She waited for him to close the door, then
she picked up her phone. Time to call Dom. Her stomach rolled over.
Time to find out if she was on her own.

Enrico paced his study again, certain he was
wearing a hole in the Aubusson carpet. He hated this waiting.
Waiting for the traitor to be caught. Waiting for Carlo to make a
move. Waiting for Kate to leave.

Waiting for his world to crumble.

He threw himself into the chair, then leaned
forward, propping his elbows on the desk and loosely clasping his
hands in front of his face. He pressed his lips against his hands,
stifling the urge to cry out, to let loose his misery at losing
Kate. At losing everything. He didn’t see how he could stand it if
she didn’t come back to him. If something happened to her or the
child. If he lost her for good.

Losing Toni had been a horrible blow. He
couldn’t bear another one, ever. Certainly not this soon.

His chest felt empty, hollow, again. Dead
inside. He passed a hand over his aching left side, feeling the
bandage that still protected the stitches. He’d taken a bullet for
Kate, and he’d do it again. He’d do whatever it took to have her
back, to keep her safe. To get her to love him again.

He closed his eyes, tears welling up, his
throat aching. He sagged in the chair, feeling like he’d lost every
ounce of strength he’d ever possessed. He was drained, done, over
with. He couldn’t go on without her. He just could not.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, willing
himself not to cry. He hadn’t given vent to his anguish over Kate.
He couldn’t allow himself to. Not even when Antonio reported her
tears to him. If he let himself go, if he loosened the bonds
holding him together, he might never stop weeping.

He had to keep going. He had to find the
traitor and destroy him. He had to save the
cosca
. And he
had to face Carlo Andretti tonight, before all of La Provincia.

He had to do these things for all the people
depending on him. For all the people who looked to him for
protection from Carlo.

So he held on to a glimmer of hope. But that
glimmer grew fainter every day she didn’t call, every day she
didn’t return to his home.

He should go see her, should plead his case.
He wondered how she’d receive him. Butterflies in his stomach, he
picked up the phone. Antonio could tell him how she was, whether
she might see him.

Antonio picked up on the second ring. “Tonio,
how is she?” He noticed a slight hesitation on Antonio’s part, and
his pulse quickened.

“She vomited from the baby.”

“But she’s all right?”

“
Sì.
”

He relaxed. He waited a second, then said,
“I’m thinking of coming to see her.”

Antonio hesitated again. “I spoke to her
about you today.”

“What did she say?”

Antonio let out a breath. “She thinks you
killed the judge and his family.”

Merda
. Enrico felt queasy. “Did you
tell her I didn’t?”

“Of course. I told her you believe in the old
codes. I think maybe she believed that.”

“So there’s some hope?”

Again, Antonio hesitated. “
Sì
,
some.”

It wasn’t much, but he had to try. “I’ll be
there in an hour.”

Enrico showered and shaved. He hadn’t taken
much care with his appearance since Kate had left. He took care
with his clothes as well, choosing a dark blue suit he knew she
liked, deliberately playing the peacock: diamond tie pin, platinum
cufflinks, the signet ring with the Lucchesi crest, his best
watch.

He looked at himself in the mirror. To the
unobservant, he might be the same man he’d been before. But to
anyone who looked closely, the wear of the days without her showed
in the circles under his eyes, in the hollowness of his stare. He
took a deep breath, willing himself to have hope.

A Lucchesi always got what he wanted. Enrico
wasn’t about to be the exception.

Dom heard his mobile phone ring. He looked at
the display, but since he didn’t recognize the number, he let it go
to voice mail. Then Dom picked up another phone, one he was certain
wasn’t tapped, and used it to check the mobile’s voice mail. He
listened to the message, unable to believe his good fortune. He
scribbled down the number the caller left, then dialed it. When she
answered, he said, “
Ciao
, Kate. It’s Domenico. Where are you
calling from? This isn’t Enrico’s number.”

“He hasn’t told you?”

“Told me what?”

“I’ve left him.”

Most interesting. And alarming. Enrico should
have told him. “Why?”

“He’s lied to me too many times. He’s done
things I can’t condone.”

“What has upset you so much?”

“He killed a judge and his family. As I’m
sure you know.”

So Carlo’s plan was in motion. “There is more
to it than you know.”

“I don’t care about the details. He’s guilty.
You should have seen his face when Fuente told him they’d found the
missing murder weapon.” She paused. “And I’m sure I know how it
ended up missing in the first place.”

“Sometimes unfortunate choices have to be
made in this business.”

“Murdering innocent people isn’t an
unfortunate choice.”

“Why have you called me?”

He heard her take a deep breath. “I have to
leave the country. I need a fake passport, a fake American social
security number, and transportation to the nearest train
station.”

“Enrico would gladly help you with that.”

“I don’t want him to know where I’ll be.”

“So it is final then?” he asked.

He heard a new firmness in her voice.
“Yes.”

“Why do you think I won’t tell him where you
are?”

“Because you don’t want us together.”

Dom held his breath for a second, debating.
“That is true.”

“I just want to disappear. After I’m safely
away, I’ll tell Enrico I’ve lost the baby. Then he’ll marry Delfina
Andretti, and everything can go back to the way it was supposed to
be. I know how to keep my mouth shut, and I don’t know anything of
substance anyways. However, I’m not stupid; I know you’re not
supposed to let me go. So I have an incentive for you to help
me.”

“Which is?”

“I ran across something interesting while
transcribing records at the orphanage. I know about the adoption
you arranged. And I know the mother’s name. I’ve written letters to
several people that will be delivered if something happens to me.
I’m sure you don’t want this information to get out.”

Dom clamped his jaw shut to keep from
shouting and took a deep breath through his nose. Fucking nosy
bitch. She was willing to ruin his family. And that couldn’t
happen. He didn’t speak until he felt he could keep his voice even.
“I would prefer that matter to remain private, as I was
promised.”