Page 11 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
She turns, once more the stoic head of the Ricci family. Of course, I know differently. Adelina was once the naïve one, while her sister was the favored child, chosen to lead. Perhaps Eduardo simply respected that she was older because he surely must have seen that Adelina would have been the better choice. Gabriella came face to face with Enrique Bianchi once, and it terrified her. She backed down almost instantly like a dog with a boot on its throat. Meanwhile, Adelina, the one who was kept out of the mafia, the one who should have been weak, willingly married the creature just so she could slay him.
We walk down the hallway and into an office. Gabriella takes a seat at the desk that looks entirely too big for her. A painting of Eduardo Ricci with two little girls hangs on the wall directly behind her, reminding everyone in the room that she has some very big shoes to fill.
A couch sits to one side of the room, and I go to it, taking a seat. Lorenzo sits on the other end, and Adelina slides between us.
“So, you killed Enrique Bianchi,” Gabriella starts.
Adelina stiffens, her fist balling against her thigh. “I put a blade in his throat.”
Gabriella smiles. “I’m so proud of you, Lina.”
The same smile doesn’t reach Adelina’s face. Instead, she looks…haunted.
“I’m going to move to take control of the Bianchi family business,” Adelina says.
Gabriella’s brows pull together tightly. “What?” She trips over the single word.
On a deep sigh, Adelina pushes to her feet and shifts until she can face both Gabriella and me. “I have a target on my back. I can either run from my enemy or control them.”
I almost believe that she actually wants this, but I know better. Nero is skilled at making the most flawed plan seem like a great idea.
Gabriella snorts. “You think they’ll allow Enrique’s widow to run the family? The one who made herself a widow, incidentally.”
“I never said it needed to happen willingly.”
“War? Lina, we are not in a position to take on the Bianchi’s again. Nero won’t back me now—”
“No, he’s backing me. But I need your help.”
A tense silence descends over the room. Gabriella stares at her sister, and the muscles in her jaw start to tic.
“It’s not personal, Gabi.”
“Just business?” Gabriella pushes to her feet and rounds the desk. She seems to grow taller with each step and looks every inch the mafia leader, in her tailored, black dress and power heels. How deceiving looks can be. “Be careful with Nero Verdi, little sister. His loyalty only goes as far as your ability to serve him.”
Adelina holds her sister’s gaze. “As with any ally.”
There’s another tense beat before Gabriella nods. “What do you need?”
“A meeting with Matteo Santori.”
Gabriella frowns. “Santori. Why?”
“No one can stand alone, Gabi. I may have Nero, but I am very much alone here in Sicily. He approached me at the engagement party. I believe he was offering me an out from Enrique.”
More of Nero’s convoluted plans? No, I don’t think so. This is Adelina working off her own back. She doesn’t trust Nero. Clever girl. I almost smile.
“The Santori’s aren’t strong, Miss Adelina,” Lorenzo says. “You know they’re small business. Cannabis and party drugs, mainly.”
“Father always said they were honorable and loyal to a fault.”
He nods. “That they are.”
“I don’t need power and money. I need loyalty.” Adelina’s gaze shifts to me, ocean-blue eyes a swirling void of calculation. “Sasha, can you find out who would be next in line behind Enrique?”
I push to my feet, tension gripping my muscles. “I’m not here to help you, Adelina. Your war is your own.” Now both sisters are staring at me. “I’m here to protect you at Nero’s request. If you want someone dead, then pay me and it will be done. Beyond those two tasks, I do not work for you.” I walk toward the door, and no one stops me as I leave.
I make my way outside the house before crossing the gardens. Velvety grass rounds the side of the house and stretches away until it reaches the edge of the cliffs. Below, the ocean rhythmically kisses the rocks, and it’s almost soothing. I take a seat on a small stone bench only a few feet from the edge. The sunshine bathes me in warmth, and I close my eyes as I inhale the scent of the sea.
I don’t want to be here. I know my indifference will be threatened in her domain, in her constant presence. I think Sicily will probably always remind me of her. The sun, the sea, the cobbled streets, and terracotta-tiled roofs. We ran through Sicily and Italy together.
I still remember the first ferry ride from Naples to Ischia. The way she stood on the deck of the boat, the sea breeze whipping her hair away from her face. I thought her skin was like golden sunshine, and there was a wildness in her that reminded me of the ocean itself. She made me peer out of my self-imposed prison of restraint. She made me want to experience just a taste of that wildness. And before I knew it, she had unlocked the door and dragged me into the chaos with her. Just when I thought I liked it, she tore herself from me, leaving me to face it alone. I had managed to get back into my box and close the door, but being with her, here, the lock is rattling. I can’t go back out there, so I can’t help her. She’s a job, nothing more. That is how I stay within these bars. I can’t be invested in her fate anymore.
