Page 27 of The Don's Soulmate

“Please,” I whisper, facing him. “Leave. I swear, I’ll be alright. Thank you… for everything.”

A flash of pain crosses his face.

Then, he nods, and sidesteps towards the exit, his men drawing back, their weapons still trained on us, ready to defend their boss in case we break the stalemate.

“Mind you,” my father warns, staring at Ettore. “Never speak to my daughter again. From today, she’s dead to you.”

“Like hell she is,” Ettore says from the doorway. “She will be dead if left with the likes of the men you choose for her. ThisMancini could take better care of her than any of the alliances you have planned for her.”

I gasp, shocked at how far this has gone. Ettore truly has no fear, and while I appreciate all he’s done for me, he can’t truly think my father would forgive this slight to their ability to protect me.

“Ettore,” I whisper, shaking my head, begging him to step down. “Please…”

“Don’t worry,” he says, anger simmering in my direction

“I’m leaving,” he locks eyes with me and turns back to the door.

But then, I notice my father raise his fist in the air. Recognizing the signal, I scream. He’s not prepared to let Ettore simply walk out. Not after showing such disrespect.

Guns click into place. Ettore turns.

The sound of gunfire shatters my fragile truce.

Screams and shouts fill the air.

In the ensuing chaos I watch, horrified, as my brother clutches his arm: bleeding, pale and shaken.

Chapter 12

Ettore

The wrought iron gates swing open. Before our convoy can arrive to a stop, car doors are forced open. Men screaming, men groaning, men pulling out the few who are too weak to walk on their own.

The staff rushes forward to receive us. The emergency medical personnel have been alerted and are on stand-by with wheelchairs, hurriedly getting those that need help to the basement. Of course, taking them to any hospital is out of the question.

I get out of the car, my right-hand man Luca by my side. A few medics rush over to check us over. I turn to Luca, and under hushed breath ask how many we left behind.

“Three,” he tells me.

I clench my fists in rage. Salvatore D’Amici made a grave error in trying to shoot us just as we were leaving. Even in a world of crime, there is honor, and the man clearly showed he has none. We lost three men in a war to the D’Amicis tonight and in retaliation for what? Because I was kind enough to save his daughter for him?

Instead of bowing and licking my boots in gratitude, he dared attack me. There will be retaliation for this.I swear it.

As for his daughter…

Despite knowing better, I feel angry towards her. The whole time, Carlotta stood there like a deer in the headlights, placating, soothing. She should have told her father and brother what the truth was yet she bit down on her tongue after allowing that Ugo Caputo to do what he did.

Perhaps she has it coming her way.

Or maybe,a smaller voice in my head says.She’s just afraid of the men in her life.

Regardless, what happened, happened. And now, we have to make arrangements to get the bodies back.

“Have our men negotiate with D’Amicis to retrieve the three bodies we left behind. Shall they refuse, involve our priests. Those men deserve a proper funeral,” I tell Fio.

Fio nods quietly. The man really doesn’t speak much.

Once our priest reaches out to Salvatore’s, there’s no way he will deny his priest. Our families might be complicated, but we’re pious to a fault. Given the many sins we commit, it’s customary to offer a confession or two when we can, after all.

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