Page 85 of Capo

Twenty-Seven

Luciano

I never knew that the pain of loss could be so physical. My soul aches with the loss of Elena. My body feels the loss of Chloe’s soft shapes. I didn’t think when I had Dustin call my pilot. I just knew I had to see her, hold her. It turns out it was the best decision I could have made. I feel clean somehow, my mind clearer. I wish I had brought her with me, but I can’t. The war isn’t over. As soon as I board the plane, I call Nathan.

“How’s Christiano?”

He groans. “Oh my fucking God. Do you know what time it is? Why don’t you call the hospital instead?”

“I’m calling you.”

“He’s stable. Still medicated. They think they can ease up on the sedation soon.”

“So… this is good news?”

“Yes! I’m going back to sleep now.” He disconnects.

I sneer in frustration and tap Matteo’s phone number instead. He sounds a lot more alert. “Uncle?”

“Is the plan still on schedule?”

“Man, I heard you left town.”

“Who snitched?”

He hesitates.

“Don’t keep things from me. Dust?”

“No. I called your house. Talked to one on your staff. He mentioned you had left. Did Elena really die?”

“Yes,” I snarl, renewed pain stabbing my chest. “I’ll be back in time. Don’t fucking worry about everything.”

“I don’t wo—”

I disconnect and call Eric. We’re closer to each other’s time zones with him being in Moscow. “Are you holding it together? I just got off the phone with Matteo. We’re still set to go tomorrow night. West coast night.”

“We’re ready, Luci. They’ve been on the move, but we’re tracking everyone. We’ll send them all to Hell.”

“That, we will. Talk later.”

I disconnect and hesitate, my finger hovering over the contact, then I make the call. Alessandra answers and I tell her to give the phone to Chloe. I fucked up Elena. I can never make that right. I’ve fucked up the brilliant, compassionate woman in that little white stone house in the mountains in Sicily. If she’s ever going to forgive me, I have to start giving her something.

This is as much for her as it is for Elena. I hope my old friend would have approved.

“Sal—Luciano?” Chloe sounds confused and a little sleepy. Her husky voice sends a tingle through my belly. I wish I could have stayed.

“I’ll set your brothers free, Chloe. They’re not in my service anymore. Goodbye.” I tap the call closed before she says anything. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t do people services. I don’t make people happy. I rule with my fist. I don’t want to hear ‘thank you’ because I don’t know what the fuck to answer.

I get a few hours of sleep on the plane. The rest of the day, we finish our preparations.

It’s time.

We’re armed to the teeth when we move through the dank corridor in the apartment building where the four remaining Russians reside. As we approach the front door it opens, and a girl steps out. She’s one millisecond from getting blasted to pieces as she opens her mouth to scream. Wearing a mini skirt and a tiny top that show more skin than they hide, I immediately know she’s just a prostitute. Her legs are bruised, as are her arms, and she doesn’t even look to be of legal age.

I raise my hand and put a finger to my lips, shaking my head, holding her gaze to see that she understands. Her eyes dart between the five of us, then she nods, her eyes wide and frightened. She won’t make a fuss. She’s got nothing invested in these guys. Judging from the fresh marks on her skin, she’ll probably go celebrate their timely deaths.

Cocking my head for her to get the fuck out of here, making her jerk into action, I then turn my attention back to the now conveniently open door.

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