The Bloody Bride (The Rocchetti Dynasty) Page 8

  I picked up my bag from the sink. “I wish I could help but I really must be going.”

  Dupont stepped in front of the entrance, blocking my path. My heart began to speed up.

  “I suggest you let me pass, Agent Dupont.”

  “Or what, Mrs. Rocchetti?” He asked. “The mafia does not teach their women how to fight.”

  I stared at him. “What would I need to know how to fight for, sir? Now, I ask you respectively, please let me pass.”

  Dupont looked disappointed. In me? In himself? I wasn’t sure. He pulled out a card from his back pocket and passed it to me. “If you change your mind, please do not hesitate to give me a call.”

  I didn’t take it. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Excuse me—“

  He stepped to the side, blocking me.

  I didn’t even think, just screamed, “OSCURO!”

  Before Dupont could even register what I had said, Oscuro came bounding into the bathroom, Polpetto under his right arm and gun in his left hand. When he saw Dupont, he snarled like a beast.

  “Careful.” Warned Dupont. “I am still a federal agent.”

  “Agent Dupont was just leaving.” I said. “And if he knows whats good for him, he won’t bother me again.”

  Dupont eyed Oscuro. He looked down at me. His eyes begged me to reconsider his offer but I looked away.

  After a second, he left. Oscuro watched as he went out through the second door, his jaw tight.

  In the silence of the bathroom, I rubbed my face. I had the overwhelming urge to cry, which was ridiculous.

  “Ma’am?” Oscuro prompted.

  I looked up. “Sorry, Oscuro. I’m not going to cry, truly…”

  He shifted on his feet. “It’s not that, ma’am. It’s just…I have to take you straight to the Capo. He needs to know everything that happened.”

  “Of course.” I stumbled over the words. “Of course. Where is he?”

  “At the circuit, ma’am.”

  Chapter Seven

  Circuit di Chicago was a huge speedway that Don Piero had built when he first came to the country. It use to be an illegal dirt track, but now the track was a huge multi-million business that saw thousands of races every year. Nearly 600,000 thousand people could fit into the arena and more than a dozen cups had been hosted here.

  Papa use to let me follow him to the track a few times a year. He would put me up in one of the boxes while he worked out business. I use to sit there and watch with slight horror and wonderment at the cars. They use to go so fast.

  I hadn’t been back in years but the track hadn’t changed much.

  Oscuro led me through the building surrounding the track. Most of the offices were below the seats, except for the main office which was at the top of the private boxes and overlooked the entire speedway.

  I was surprised they were at the speedway. Winter made it impossible to race, since a thin sheet of ice covered the track. And it would’ve been too cold to sit outside for an extended amount of time. The hallways were silent, only Oscuro and I’s footsteps to be heard.

  “The Capo is upstairs, ma’am.”

  “It’s so quiet in winter.” I laughed. “When my father brought me here, it was always so busy.”

  “The speedway will open again in March.”

  Oscuro led me up to the top floor. The office was a huge room, with windows stretching out along the back, revealing the track below. A wooden desk sat in the middle, with two lounge chairs before it. Half-empty bookcases covered the walls, with hundreds of photos of cars decorating the rest of the space.

  Alessandro sat at the table, his attention on the computer.

  “You may go, Cesco.” He said.

  Oscuro bowed his head. He glanced at me with a hint of pity before disappearing behind the doors.

  For a moment, there was only silence. Then Polpetto barked at Alessandro, obviously recognising him as the master of the house.

  “Hush,” I whispered.

  Alessandro ignored Polpetto and turned his intense eyes to me. “Sit.”

  I did as I was told.

  Getting closer to him was not something my body wanted to do, but I forced myself to hide my fear. He would only react to it.

  “You were approached by a Fed.” He said, his voice calm but that didn’t fool me.

  “I was.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I went into the public bathrooms at the park—while Oscuro and I were walking Polpetto. He entered through the staff entrance and approached me.”

  Alessandro leaned back in his chair. Suspicion entered his eyes. “Did you know he was there?”

  “In the bathroom?” I frowned. “Of course not.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  I smoothed down Polpetto’s hair. “He offered to put me into witness protection if I worked with him. He said he was going to bring down all the crime organisations in Chicago and I could help him by telling what I knew.”

  “And how did you answer?”

  Something about Alessandro’s tone irked me. Surely he didn’t think I had betrayed the Outfit? I would be in a lot of danger if he did. “I denied any knowledge of any crime organisations in Chicago and asked to leave.”

  “And did you? Leave?” Alessandro asked.

  “No. He blocked the doorway. That’s when I called for Oscuro.”

  “I see.” He watched me. “Why did you not call for Oscuro when you first spotted him?”

  I searched his face, trying to figure out what was happening in his mind. But his expression revealed nothing.

  “I was overwhelmed but also did not want to arise suspicion. My first tactic was to try and convince him I knew nothing about the mafia and had no connections to it. Normal women do not usually have bodyguards.”

  “I am sure he already knew who you were.”

  “He did. He called me Sophia Padovino, but he knew about our marriage. He mentioned it.” I frowned. “He seemed to know a lot about it, actually.”

  “Feds do their research.” Was Alessandro’s cold reply. “Anything else?”

  I stared off at the windows. Snow was beginning to fall. And I had thought February would signalise less snow. Clearly I had been wrong. “It was odd. It’s almost like he knew me? He expected me to take him up on his offer. He actually got quite angry the more I played dumb.”

  “You are now a Rocchetti. He would know who you are.” Alessandro said curtly. “I imagine the entire Organised Crime Unit does.”

  That fact made me feel a little light-headed…and a little smug.

  “What do you think he wanted from you?” Alessandro asked, as if he already knew the answer. “Why do you think he targeted you?”

  I flickered my eyes back to Alessandro. “I assume because he is under the impression that I would know a lot about the Outfit. The nitty-gritty details that could warrant an arrest.” I frowned. “But we’ve been married for barely a week. What would I know?”

  Alessandro shrugged slightly. “Perhaps Dupont wanted you to be an informant.”

  “He never said…” The agent had only offered me sanctuary. But what good would I actually be to bringing down the Outfit? I didn’t know a lot and the things I did know were from overhearing conversations over the years. Nothing that could be used in court.

  I had seen the Rocchetti’s murder the Gallagher’s. But my word against theirs? And the local police certainly hadn’t dared to arrest them. Not even they would back me up if I got up to the stand. Plus, I had also murdered someone. Isn’t that why to be brought into the mafia you had to murder someone? So you couldn’t defect to the police without being charged.

  Something caught my attention. “How did you know the agent was named Dupont?” I asked. “I never said his name.”

  Alessandro looked slightly amused. “For every piece of information they have on us, we have ten times as much on them. Plus, Oscuro recognised him. Dupont has been poking around ever since he joined the FBI three years ago.”

  I smiled thinly
and muttered out, “Of course.”

  “Anything else you remember about the meeting?” He asked.

  I ran over the interaction. Dupont had seemed like he really wanted to convince me to defect to the police. He had called me by my maiden name. He had known about my marriage to Alessandro and Alessandro’s reputation. He had even known that women were not trained to fight. Though, this could all be public information.

  “No.” I murmured. “We didn’t speak for very long. Not even a minute.”

  Alessandro stared at me. “I hope you’re telling the truth, Sophia. I am sure I don’t need to tell you what happens to traitors of the Outfit.”

  “I would never—“

  “Save it.” He cut in. “I’ve heard those words thousands of times and they have never proven to be reliable.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Alessandro rose suddenly. So graceful and predatory. He walked around the desk and leant over me, holding himself up with one hand. His presence surrounded me.

  My heart began to pound loudly in my chest.

  “Are you sure you can say you would never betray me?” He asked. Alessandro put his face right in front of mine, our noses nearly touching. I felt like I was going to faint. “Weren’t you even the little bit tempted? I bet you’ve imagined it. Life out of the mafia. You would be able to go to college, choose your own husband. You could get a job, walk around without a bodyguard.”

  On their own accord, my eyes flickered down to his lips before back up to his dark eyes. They were too intense, too knowing. I swallowed loudly. “I live only to be a good wife to you and a good mother to your children.”

  A slow smile grew up his face. “Oh, you are perfect, aren’t you. So perfect I bet you haven’t even thought about leaving.” Alessandro leaned closer, our noses touching. Sweat began to prick at the back of my neck. “Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone. Have you ever thought of leaving?” I opened my mouth but he cut me off. “And no bullshit, wife. Lie and I will not be happy.”

  Alessandro had me backed against a wall and from his expression, he knew it too. I could either give my usual obedient answer and risk his anger, or give my truthful answer and also risk his anger. His expression intensified like he could read my mind.

  I swallowed. “It is all in jest…I would never actually leave.”

  His eyes flared. “Tell me. Were you tempted to take Dupont up on his offer?”

  “Not Dupont, no.” My voice was soft.

  “Then who?”

  Just be honest, but not to honest, I told myself soothingly. Before I knew it, the words were falling out of my mouth. “My sister. In her senior year of high school, she really wanted to go to college but Papa said no. I was tempted then…I thought about leaving with her. But that was many years ago.”

  A strange look had come over Alessandro’s face. “Your sister.” His tone was tight. “Your dead sister.”

  I looked down at my lap. Pain gripped my heart. “Yes, my sister.”

  Alessandro wasn’t done with me yet. “Why did you not leave then?”

  “We were young girls, what did we know of the world? We had never had jobs, or even handled a bank account. And to leave my family?” I shook my head. “It was just young girls imaging something different. There was no weight behind the words.” “Of course not.” He sounded angry again. “You would never do something so rebellious. Not my perfect wife.”

  I kept my eyes trained on my lap. Polpetto looked back up at me.

  Alessandro drew back. I began to breathe properly again.

  He didn’t sit back down, just leant on the desk. I looked up to see him running his dark eyes over the track. The silence weighted heavily on me. “Oscuro mentioned the track opening up again in March.”

  “If the weather is good.” Alessandro cut his eyes down to me. “Why is your dog wearing shoes?”

  “Oh!” I held up Polpetto, showing off his booties. “They’re his snow booties, to protect his little feet from the cold. Aren’t they adorable?”

  Alessandro looked like he wanted to call them many other words, but not cute. “He looks ridiculous.”

  “He does not.” I scratched Polpetto’s belly. He immediately rolled onto his back, revealing his belly.

  Alessandro walked around to the back of the desk. “I have a meeting with my men. Oscuro will escort you home.”

  I knew when I had been dismissed. I rose with Polpetto in my arms and began to walk out of the office. When I made it to the door, Alessandro called out.

  “Sophia?”

  I paused and turned to look back at him. He wasn’t looking at me. His entire attention was on the computer in front of him.

  “Next time, you call for Oscuro immediately. You do not bother with a little chat. Am I clear?”

  Even though he wasn’t looking at me, the intensity behind the command was clear. “Of course. It won’t happen again.” I left before he could give out anymore commands.

  The funerals for Paola Oldani, Tony Scaletta and Nicola Rizzo were all held within the same three days. It was easily the most depressing seventy-two hours of my life.

  All these deaths had occurred at my wedding. They had been innocent guests and that had led to their deaths. They hadn’t been on the field or in the line of danger. Just sitting in the pews of a church during a marriage ceremony.

  My guilt was crippling. I tried to be the perfect guest. I brought food for the family in my best dish and spoke to every family member individually.

  But I knew what I was to them. Perhaps not the cause of their loved ones death, but definitely a contributing factor.

  On top of that, the church had been repaired—thanks to a generous donation from the Outfit—and was the church the funerals occurred in. Each time I looked around, my mind flashed back to my wedding day. To the warm blood on my neck, the gunshot wound in my side. The fear, the smells.

  The feeling of ending a life.

  Alessandro did not show any reaction…nor did any other Rocchetti.

  I stood and sat with the Rocchetti’s during each ceremony. People avoided our little group, staring at them with awe and fear. Some small part of me felt a twitch of smugness, of power. But I shoved it down.

  “Such a terrible day.” Don Piero said. He was sitting on my right, with Alessandro on my left. Everyone else was a bit irked about me sitting so close to the Don but he had insisted he needed a ‘soft’ presence for such a day. “Such a waste of life.” We all made noises of agreement.

  I found it hard not to think of my sister’s funeral. Whenever I looked over the sea of black, heard the priest’s sermons or even heard dirt hit the coffin, my mind flashed back to my sister. I remember Cat being lowered into the ground, her disappearing from me forever.

  The last time I had seen her she had been so healthy and bright. I had refused to see the body, not wanting to blemish my memories of her. But perhaps I should’ve. Maybe it would’ve helped me severe the connection between us, helped me move on into the land of the living.

  It’s in the past now, I thought. Two years come March.

  When the priest stepped away from the podium, Don Piero rose. He hadn’t said anything at the other funerals. His sons, Salvatore and Enrico, also stood with him. All the Rocchetti’s wore calm masks, whereas the rest of us were slightly confused.

  I glanced at Alessandro.

  He looked down at me. Something in his eyes told me to sit forward and play calm.

  Don Piero went to the front of the church, while his sons disappeared. He stood beneath the Mary Madonna and stretched his arms out. He commanded more of the church than the Priest did.

  “My people, I am devastated to stand before you in such circumstances. We have been attacked, my family and yours. Blood was shed during one of our holiest ceremonies.” Don Piero shook his head. “I promised you revenge and it is revenge I grant you now.”

  There was movement to the side. We all watched as Salvatore and Enrico walked back into the chambe
r, but now they were holding a man tightly between them. The man struggled and fought, but was nothing compared to Toto the Terrible and Lil Rico.

  The church was silent as they dragged the man to the podium. Even the Priest seemed lost for words.

  Don Piero leaned down, grabbed the back of the man’s head and ripped it back. The man had a strong face, though badly beaten. His hair was a dirty red, almost matching the colour of his bloodshot eyes. On his neck was a tattoo with the cross and the words IRISH PRIDE.

  “Behold, Gavin Gallagher!” Don Piero shouted. “Son of Angus Gallagher. Angus Gallagher who attacked our loved ones and spilled our blood.”

  The crowd began to fidget.

  I bit my lip. I knew where this was headed and it was not going to be easy to clean off the marble.

  Don Piero dropped Gavin’s head and rose to the crowd once more. “I promised revenge and now I grant it. By killing our loved ones, Angus has ensured we must kill one of his.”

  A sense of understanding crossed over the crowd. Men began standing up, hungry to be the one who ended the Gallagher’s life. Children were shoved under the pews, and told to cover their ears.

  “Down, my men.” Don Piero said soothingly. “Your desire for vengeance is understandable, but perhaps no one deserves this kill more than…” He gestured to the front row. “Anthony Scaletta, son of Tony Scaletta. Come up here, Anthony.”

  Anthony was a young boy, perhaps only fifteen. He was long and lanky, with ruffled brown hair and large eyes. But a strange anger had settled over him, causing his youthful face to tighten harshly.

  Don Piero pulled out a gun from his back pocket and passed it to Anthony. “This man helped orchestrate your father’s death. Nicola Rizzo’s death. Paola Oldani’s death. Does he deserve to keep breathing air, when they do not?”

  “No.” Anthony’s voice hadn’t broke yet but that didn’t stop him from sounding terrifying. “No, he does not.”

  “No, he does not.” Agreed Don Piero. He gestured to Salvatore and Enrico. They released Gavin and he collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. “Do what you must do, Anthony.”