Page 39 of To Hell

I nod curtly as my door swings open again with a slam, and this time I don’t have to turn to know it’s Cesare.

“I’m here,” Cesare announces excitedly, then struts over to the couch opposite me to throw himself on it. “Back from fabric shopping and meeting a very stylish middle-aged lady.”

Xander steps to the side, waiting for me to dismiss him.

“How did it go?” I scoot to the edge of the couch, setting my whiskey glass on the table.

“It went well,” Cesare chuckles, “I mean, they started fighting over you, pulling each other’s hair and all…”

I quirk my eyebrow. “Cut the bullshit, please.”

He snorts, “Live a little, please,” he huffs.

“Did she get what she needed?”

“Yeah, she did,” he shrugs, and I can see he has taken my little outburst to heart like he always does. He is so touchy sometimes. Or I’m just too much of a dickshit most of the time.

“Cesare,” I take a biting tone, so he sees I’m not in the mood to fuck around, “What the fuck is always wrong with you?” I snark, and he bursts into laughter.

“I rile you up for fun,” he says, reaching for his drink and taking a swig. “First off, your girl adores this woman,” he sets the empty glass down. “And the woman, Valerie, I have said she is beautiful already, haven’t I?” I grind my teeth and refuse to indulge him again. “Well, they talked about Zoe’s past and how Valerie made a collection for her and this boy named Virgilio.”

My spine spikes, shooting whirring alarms into my brain. They talked about… Oh shit… I hope it didn’t get any deeper than that.

“Long story short, the conversation inspired Zoe to get back on her feet into the fashion world, and now she wants to make a collection to honor her lost or dead friend, Virgilio,” he reaches for the decanter of whiskey and helps himself with a large pour. “She wanted Valerie to come into the venture so they could do it together but Valerie turned down the offer because she is at a point in her career where she can’t help out even if she wanted to,” he sips.

“Is that all?” I stay calm, like I’m not troubled within. Like everything he is saying won’t change the trajectory of things for Zoe. Like there is no danger attached to any of it. I will think about that later and find a way to avert it.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Valerie talked about the fact that she had made a deal with a sponsor that if she could sell five hundred thousand pieces of clothing fabric from the collection inspired by Zoe and Virgilio, she would get to keep fifty percent instead of the initially agreed ten percent of the profit. Still, it’s been over ten years since that agreement, and she only has six months until the contract expires.”

I stand, not sure why, so I clear my throat and pretend I need something on my desk.

“I see,” I try to act a little nonchalant. “We can look into that.” I circle my desk, pick up a pen, and go back to the couch. “Xander, look into this and come back with any viable information on the matter.” I toss the pen on the center table and flick my fingers for Cesare to hand me the decanter and glass.

“Okay, boss,” Xander gives a respectful bow. “I will let Tim know.”

I think I have found the perfect way to help Zoe with her dream of being a fashion designer. I was about to lose my mind trying to think of ways to help without being directly involved in the entire process.

I can’t be associated with her.

If anyone finds out about my involvement in the matter, I might jeopardize my position in the Russo clan. A lot of things can go wrong. My father can find her through my association with her. The Bratva can start a war. And then, Flavio Russo, the boss of the Camorra clan that took us in when we escaped Messina’s grasp, would want my head on a platter.

But still, I cannot pass up the chance of giving her this life.

If I can somehow get the fabrics to sell the way they ought to, and by this, I mean buy the fucking thing, Valerie can go ahead and help the way she is meant to. It’s a win for all.

“You are thinking of buying the clothes, aren’t you?” Cesare rests his elbows on his knees, studying me, and I shrug. “You know what can happen if this gets out?”

“It will be organic,” I tell him instead. “No one will know I’m involved in any way. But one thing is certain: we have to help Valerie get that money.”

He nods, “Not a bad idea,” he drops his head on his hands and scratches his hair vigorously.

“Cesare,” I chip because he knows too much pressure isn’t good for his head, especially where he is scratching; the exact spot he got hit.

“Who is Virgilio?” He stops scratching, his eyes now bloodshot as if trying hard not to cry, “Ettore, I’ve been thinking a lot about what Zoe told me this morning. Her story, the timeline of her father’s attack on Virgilio… it all fits in with when I lost my memory. And both Zoe and Valerie mentioned that I remind them of Virgilio.

The tension roils quickly in the air.

“Let it be,” I stand, needing to both end the conversation before it begins and get the hell away from his peering eyes. He is lost. I should know what that feels like, I have had my share of being lost in the world searching for her. “Go do something else, I’m heading out,” I start for the door, but he moves too quickly to get in my way.

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