The Rocchetti Queen (The Rocchetti Dynasty Book 3) Page 3

  I laughed. If only she knew...

  “A re you excited to leave the house for the first time?” I asked Dante as I strapped him into his car seat.

  Dante didn’t respond.

  “I’m excited,” I told him. “Your dad and I are going to take you to the park. And Polpetto’s joining us.”

  “Is he talking back?” came Alessandro’s voice.

  I shot him a look over my shoulder. “He won’t learn how to speak if we don’t speak to him. I read it in a book.”

  My husband bowed his head, but still look incredibly amused.

  A few days had passed since Nero showed up with Ophelia, marking exactly one week since Dante had come into the world. It was strange to think that Don Piero had only been dead for a week, that his funeral had just been the other day. Especially in my post-partum haze, when time seemed to be slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

  Today was a strangely warm October day, the sunlight bouncing of the red and orange leaves. Alessandro didn’t have to work, so he was joining Dante and I on our first trip out of the house. I knew Alessandro had things to do, but after expressing my anxiety about leaving the house with Dante, he had magically become available.

  Our little family got into the SUV, joined by an obnoxiously large picnic basket and two bodyguards in the vehicle behind us. Polpetto sat on my lap—I didn’t trust him in the back with the baby.

  My phone buzzed and I checked it.

  “Why are you frowning?” Alessandro asked as he pulled out of the street.

  “Chiara di Traglia texted me.” She had invited me to lunch with her, but I knew it wasn’t my company she sought. “The di Traglias are not happy about Adelasia. They’re desperate for information.”

  My husband rubbed his mouth. “I know.”

  “Has Nero had any more luck?”

  “No. It’s like she vanished into thin air.”

  I scratched Polpetto’s belly, and his tail wagged happily in response. “Has your brother said anything?”

  “If he has, it hasn’t been to me. I imagine he is trying to find her as well, so he can marry her and legitimize the baby.”

  Having an heir would give Salvatore Jr another leg-up in the competition. That was the only reason why he had turned his attentions to poor Adelasia.

  “Do you think Salvatore has a chance?” I asked. “Of being the next Don?”

  Alessandro tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “You and I will be the next Don. So, it doesn’t matter.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” I reminded him gently.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  I thought about it. “Well...Salvatore Jr has been in charge of security for years, hasn’t he? Meaning the soldati know him probably the best out of all the Rocchettis. They may very well offer him their support.”

  “You’re right,” Alessandro said. “We’re going to change that.”

  I smiled, unable to stop how warm my heart felt whenever he listened to—and agreed with—my opinion. “I’ll handle the wives. I already know most of them.” I held up Polpetto, who vibrated in my hands from excitement. “Isn’t that right, my darling?”

  He yapped in delight.

  We left the gated community. In the rear-view mirror, I could make out Oscuro and Beppe following in the Range Rover.

  “I have a meeting with the Historical Society next week. Hopefully, Salisbury will show his face.”

  “Has he still not left the house?”

  “He has a delicate ego,” I laughed. “Are there any leads on who shot Don Piero?”

  The atmosphere in the car grew heavy quickly. I hadn’t meant to point out the Outfit’s failure, but the sooner we found out who killed Don Piero, the better. Especially in terms of gaining favor with the Outfit, which would help our rise to power.

  “No,” Alessandro said eventually. “We have figured out where they shot from, but there were no cameras–or eyewitnesses.”

  I could tell it was weighing on him. Not only because his grandfather had been assassinated, but because Dante and I had been in the firing line.

  The act itself rose a lot of questions about how strong the Outfit was. If we couldn’t protect our don, who could we protect?

  “I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves soon. These things never stay secrets for long,” I said.

  Alessandro didn’t answer.

  I looked over to him, opening my mouth, when I caught sight of his expression

  His eyes were trained on the rereview mirror, darkening rapidly. He looked over his shoulder, fingers tightening on the wheel.

  My husband’s entire body seemed to tighten, to ready. It was the same look I imagined a lion made just before it pounced.

  “Put on your seatbelt,” he growled.

  “It’s on. What’s—?”

  Alessandro ramped up the car, foot to the floor.

  I looked over my shoulder just in time to see two unfamiliar cars speeding up to us. One reached the Range Rover, hovering on their left. A window rolled down and—

  “They’ve got a gun!”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, they fired, barely missing Oscuro. The Range Rover swerved, clipping the front of the second car.

  My stomach dropped.

  I snapped my head back to Alessandro.

  This was not a situation I could do anything about. I did not know how to shoot a gun, how to scare these two cars away. Manipulation and patience would do absolutely nothing in this situation.

  All I could really do was put my trust in Alessandro.

  I twisted in my seat, peering down at my son. Dante was...fast asleep. His little fists were curled, and his eyelids scrunched up tight.

  “Sit down,” snapped Alessandro, swerving the vehicle. We took a corner almost on two wheels, nearly sending me flying into the window.

  Polpetto yelped furiously.

  Behind us, the bodyguards’ SUV fell back, locked into combat with one of the enemy cars. Seeing an opportunity, the second car revved up and began advancing on us.

  I stashed Polpetto by my feet, who immediately slipped under the seat, shaking. Then I unbuckled my seatbelt and began crawling to the middle seat.

  “Sophia, I swear to God—”

  I managed to climb over Dante’s baby seat before tripping at the last second and landing roughly on a seatbelt.

  “Shit—Ow—”

  “Are you okay?” Alessandro asked, taking another corner like a NASCAR driver.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, sitting up and belting in. Dante was still peacefully asleep. “We need to protect Dante.”

  My husband took the car over a curb, almost taking out a lamppost. Furious yells and horns followed us as we sped away. “I know that!”

  I braced my hands on either side of Dante.

  I had the sudden clawing sensation of not being able to protect my son. Alessandro couldn’t very well pull over and let us out. Whatever happened was completely out of my hands. I didn’t get to decide the outcome, not like everything else in Dante’s life—–in my life.

  I stared at the back of my husband’s head.

  Alessandro would do whatever it took to protect Dante, and I. Would that change how he reacted in this situation? Whoever had decided to attack had chosen a time when Alessandro was with his wife and son.

  My grip tightened.

  “Sophia, in the backseat, there is a blanket. Under the blanket, there are some guns. I need you–”

  I was already up on my knees, bending into the back. Alessandro wasn’t kidding, beneath a heavy gray blanket was a considerable collection of firearms.

  I grabbed the first one I saw.

  The last time I had held a gun was on my wedding day, I realized abruptly. I had forgotten how heavy they were, how brash to the touch.

  I yanked it over, moving it to the front seat.

  Alessandro took it with one hand, flicking off the safety.

  “We need to change places,” he barked.


  “You are not starting a shootout with my son in the car!” I almost shrieked.

  “We don’t have much of a choice! Now, take the wheel!”

  I scrambled into the front seat and into Alessandro’s lap. He waited until both my hands were on the wheel and my foot next to his on the accelerator, before untucking himself from me and getting into the passenger side.

  As I buckled up, I narrowly missed an old lady pushing her shopping cart. “Shit!”

  Alessandro rolled down his window, the rushing wind blowing into the SUV.

  The city grew closer and closer, the streets growing busier and the skyscrapers blocking my view.

  Alessandro didn’t seem to notice as he leaned out the window and fired.

  The sound resonated through the inside—and woke Dante up.

  My son let a piercing wail, as pitched as the gunshot. Immediately, my breasts began to grow heavier.

  This is not the time! I hissed to myself.

  “It’s okay, baby!” I called back, swerving. “Shh, shh, it’s okay—Alessandro!”

  Alessandro snapped back, just before a bullet pierced the air where he had been. He swore loudly before leaning out and aiming once more.

  Screams from pedestrians began from outside, barely audible over the sound of my son crying.

  Alessandro fired once again.

  Suddenly, there was a screech of tires behind us, then the sound of metal clashing with metal.

  “Got them!” Alessandro said.

  I pressed my foot to the brake a little too enthusiastically, and we skidded for a second before the SUV stopped.

  In the second of silence, I could suddenly feel my entire body. The pounding of my heart, the rushing of my blood, the constriction of my lungs. A scream, or a sob, was working its way up my throat—

  Dante let out another wail.

  “Are you okay?” Alessandro demanded. He grabbed both sides of my face, his hands smelling of gunpowder. “Sophia!”

  “I’m fine. Go...go and see who it was. Before they get away.”

  Alessandro didn’t move.

  I pushed at him lightly. “Go. Now. Or it was all for naught.”

  He kissed my forehead and checked on Dante before sliding out of the car and storming away.

  I unbuckled Dante, holding him to my chest. He whined in my arms, unhappy and frightened. And from the smell of his diaper, he was also uncomfortable.

  Outside the car, I could make out Alessandro whipping open the crashed car’s door and yanking out whoever was shooting at us. Blood coated half their face, their pale skin broken up by cuts and scrapes.

  A roaring sound caught my attention and I spotted a familiar Range Rover speeding around the corner, almost taking out a row of parked cars.

  Relief flushed through me. From the looks of it, Oscuro and Beppe were okay.

  We were okay. My husband, my son, Polpetto, myself.

  I buried my face into Dante’s bald head. His skin was soft and smelt of his baby oil.

  Carefully, I slumped back into the passenger seat, gripping my son, and just held him. He relied on me for everything, from protection to nourishment. And for the first time, I wondered if I could actually give those things to him.

  Should we have waited to bring a baby into this world? Not that Dante had been at all planned—in fact, lots of measures were taken to ensure he was never born

  And yet, my son had come into the world. He had been born the same day Don Piero had died and at a week old, he had been in his first dangerous car chase.

  I smoothed down his hair, kissing his little forehead. His cries had quieted, now his face was scrunched up in annoyance.

  “It’s going to be okay, my baby,” I whispered. “Daddy and Mama are going to keep you safe.”

  Polpetto poked his head from beneath the seat. He leaped up beside me, burying into my legs.

  “Oh, my brave Polpetto,” I nearly laughed.

  A few minutes passed and Alessandro called my name. He approached the passenger side, face dark. “Would you like to see them?” he asked.

  I held Dante closer to me. “Yes.”

  Alessandro nodded curtly. In the distance, I could hear sirens growing closer and closer, but my husband did not look concerned in the slightest. What were the Chicago PD going to do? This city belonged to the Rocchettis.

  Oscuro and Beppe had pulled out both of the perpetrators, taking their guns and pushing them to the ground.

  I glanced around the street. No one had taken their phones out or tried to approach. Most people had begun to disperse, with the exception of a curious few who kept their distance.

  Neither of the men looked familiar. Both had similar pale features with pale, watery blue eyes and crooked noses—brothers, perhaps? Tattoos peeked out from under their dark clothing, pledging allegiance to their organisation.

  Oscuro tossed Alessandro two wallets. “French names.”

  Alessandro scanned the two driver’s licenses, his jaw tightening.

  “Corsican Union?” I asked.

  “So, it seems,” he confirmed, his dark eyes dancing to me.

  Police cars began to arrive, the blue and red lights flashing over the crash scene. A few officers paused when they saw Alessandro and looked to their superior, unsure how to proceed.

  “Let’s go,” Alessandro said to me, pocketing the wallets.

  “Are we going to take them, boss?” Beppe asked.

  “Not in broad daylight,” I interrupted. “Let the police take them, and then watch, because whoever comes to claim them issued an attack on our lives.”

  Alessandro grinned at me. He instructed Beppe and Oscuro, “Leave them,” before leading me back to the car.

  I buckled Dante back in, who was not pleased in the slightest, but managed to not scream the car down.

  We decided to forego the picnic, instead returning to the safety of the gated community.

  When the police chief of the Chicago PD called to confirm who had paid the bail for the two Corsican Union men who had attacked us, Alessandro was out of the door before he had even hung up.

  “Alessandro—oh, these men!” I hurried out of the kitchen. “Teresa!”

  Teresa popped her head up from over the stair bannister. “Mrs Rocchetti?”

  “Can you watch Dante for five minutes? I think my husband is going to commit a felony—before lunch!”

  “I have him,” she confirmed. Teresa never missed an opportunity to spend some time with Dante. “Go, go. Before he kills someone.”

  I raced after Alessandro. He was already halfway down the street, his lengthy strides eating up the sidewalk.

  “Who bailed them out?” I called but he didn’t seem to hear me.

  Alessandro beelined straight for Enrico’s mansion and it hit me.

  She has ties to the Corsican Union.

  “Oh, Saison,” I half-pleaded, hoping it wasn’t true.

  I reached Alessandro as he got to Enrico’s mailbox. He turned his dark eyes to me, not looking surprised to see me.

  “Are you sure you should be running so soon after giving birth?” was the first thing he said to me.

  “I’m fine.” A lie. I was in a considerable amount of post-partum pain. “What are you going to do? There is no point rushing in there without a backup plan.”

  My husband smiled briefly. “This is no longer a strategic situation. Now, it is time to handle this like a gangster, which, if you remember, is my specialty.”

  “I know, I know. It just feels so brash...”

  The front door opened and Enrico stepped out, scowling. He was dressed in a simple pair of khakis and sweater, but I could make out the outline of his weapon at his side. Behind him, a delicate face appeared, Saison Ollier. From the way her eyes widened when she saw us, I knew immediately who had sent the guns after us.

  Alessandro stepped forward, me at his side. “We met your mistress’s cousins, Uncle,” he said. “Unfortunately, they were not very nice.”

  I linked my
arm with Alessandro’s. To an outsider, it would look like I was a little afraid and seeking comfort. But from the quick look Alessandro gave me, he understood why I did it.

  We were a team, husband and wife. There was no part of my partner that I did not see and did not love. Whether the man who called me beautiful when I first woke up or the bloodthirsty gangster. This man was mine and I would support him through anything.

  Including confronting his power-hungry uncle and his mistress.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Enrico hissed, “but I would suggest you get off my property, boy.”

  “Two Corsican Union members attacked my wife and son,” Alessandro growled. “And guess who paid for their bail, Uncle? You. Enrico Rocchetti.”

  He scowled. “I did no such thing. I have been home all—” Enrico fell silent, his eyes drilling through Saison. Saison stared back at him, her expression growing paler and paler. “You had my credit card.” He didn’t sound like he believed it.

  “Oh, Saison,” I said.

  She flicked her eyes to me, then back to Enrico. “I did it for you!” she blurted out, knowing she was caught and pleading was the best way to get out of this. “You should be the don. I was getting rid of your competition—”

  I felt a sliver of embarrassment. I had been prancing around, so focused on my own ambition, my own inability to fit into the mold of a traditional mafia woman, that I forgot about the other women around me. Of course, they, too, burned with ambition and used their men like pawns in this patriarchal world.

  I had learned a valuable lesson in underestimating the woman around me. Even the ones I hadn’t expected, who had never really been a true part of the Outfit, or seemed too cowed to ever do something so daring.

  It was a shame I only just learnt this about Saison. We might’ve bonded over it—or at the very least, I could’ve used it to my advantage. Because, now, unfortunately, I didn’t think Saison was going to be around for much longer.

  “I didn’t ask you to do that,” warned Enrico. “Violence is not the only currency in this world, especially since killing Alessandro would still leave Sophia.”

  I was kind of flattered Enrico considered me another threat to deal with.

  Saison was flushed. “Please, Enrico. You don’t understand. I love you. I want you to be king—it’s what you deserve. Not some crazy idiot or a dressed-up savage—you.”