Page 65 of Forced Arrangement

Guiseppe grabs Angelo around the neck, pressing a gun to my husband’s temple.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Angelo

The muzzle of the gun is cold where it rests against my temple. My mind works furiously as I look at my wife. She bolted up out of the chair she was slumped in, but halted dead when she realized that Guiseppe could kill me in an instant.

“I knew that you would have a trick or two up your sleeves,” Guiseppe says nastily.

He starts to back away from the room that Sophia is standing in, dragging me back toward the deck of the ship. Sophia follows slowly, cautiously, her hands spread in front of her to show that she doesn’t have a weapon. I notice that one of her eyes is swollen shut and she is covered in cuts and bruises. I feel impotent rage seeing her in this state.

“Guiseppe, it doesn’t have to be like this,” she says placatingly. “I don’t need to keep my father’s holdings. I really will sign them over to you. You can have it all. The Agostini name is a shell, a husk, without my father.”

Guiseppe snarls and drags me after him up the stairs. “I don’t believe either of you for a second,” he announces, forcing me more quickly up the stairs. Sophia trails after us, her eyes wide, her chest heaving a little as she draws breath. She must be in so much pain.

I hear a clamor of sound and notice from the corner of my eye that Franco and a few of my men have come out of their hiding spots to stand behind Sophia.

Guiseppe wrenches his arm more tightly around my neck, making me cough as I try to breathe. “Don’t you fucking make a move to help your boss,” he hisses. “Big brother has things under control,” he goes on.

He drags me up the last flight of narrow, metal steps and the breeze off the water hits us, tearing at our clothing.

“You see,” Guiseppe says nastily, “I never really intended to justtradeyou power for power. You’re all fools if you thought I would ever do that. No, I think it’s time for a new era for the Cosa Nostra. An era without worries about who is of pure blood or who is good enough to lead. After all, if the hand that holds the gun is steady, who cares about the color of the blood flowing through its veins.”

He laughs wildly, pleased with his own logic. We’ve come right up to the edge of the ship opposite where the gangway leads down to the docks.

“You’ve heard of the old-fashioned cement shoes trick, I presume?” Guiseppe says in my ear. “Well, when you own a ship like this one, you can just sail out of port to take care of business and ‘accidentally’ lose a shipping container over the side. Easy peasy. So tidy. I love the advancements in technology that are available to us now, compared to my youth.”

I let him ramble and look at Sophia. She has been slowly, carefully moving around to the side of us. Franco and the othermen are clustered in front of us, clearly trying to make sure that Guiseppe doesn’t notice her absence.

“I’m going to kill you both, as it turns out,” Guiseppe goes on pragmatically. “Maybe them too, I guess. They annoy me. There’s plenty of room in the container for all of you,” he tells us, dragging me back a few more steps.

I can see Sophia getting ever closer, her steps silent, her eyes intent on Guiseppe.

Suddenly, he wraps his arm around my neck so tightly that I see spots floating in front of my vision. He shoots Sophia, who cries out and crumples to the deck.

“Bitch!” he snarls, then waves the gun in the direction of Franco and the others, who had started swarming forward. “Stay there, or I will kill your boss as well. I’m not done explaining myself to all of you. It feels good to be heard, you know. No one ever fucking listens to me.”

His arm relaxes slightly as he speaks and I look down at Sophia as best as I can. She’s still lying flat, but I can see her fingers curling as she gathers herself, ready to move. Heartened by this, I start struggling as hard as I can, trying to get free despite the lack of oxygen that is making me clumsy and slow.

Guiseppe is strong for an older man, and tenacious. Perhaps his insanity is giving him super-human strength. I feel his arm slipping, but then the gun is pressed hard to my temple again, digging in.

“Fine!” Guiseppe shrieks in my ear. “If you don’t want to listen, you can simply fuck off and get out of my way!”

I feel his fingers move as he prepares to squeeze the trigger, but then, suddenly, his arm falls away and he screams loudly, the sound making my ears ring.

I stumble away dizzily, the blood rushing back into my head as he releases me. I land hard on one knee and look back to see Sophia with her teeth clenched in Guiseppe’s hand that isholding the gun, hanging on for dear life as he pummels her with his free hand.

Blood is running down her side from the wound in her shoulder and her lips are red with Guiseppe’s blood as she grinds her teeth together as hard as she can. They stumble dangerously toward the railing, Guiseppe fetching up against it and nearly tumbling them over the edge.

My heart practically stops as he tries to throw Sophia over the edge, but she grabs onto his arm more tightly, refusing to let go. He drops the gun, grappling with her with both hands. I see it lying so close to me, but before I can make a move to snatch it up, Sophia lets go of Guiseppe’s hand and dives for the gun. He kicks at her, a stream of florid Italian curses spilling from his lips as he cradles his hand.

She takes a blow to the side of her head, but she seemingly ignores it, falling on the gun and picking it up.

She sits on the ground, staring up at Guiseppe, who is cradling his wounded hand and glaring at her. Slowly, Sophia rises to her feet, covered in blood, clearly in pain, her long, dark hair tangling in the wind. She holds up the gun with a steady hand despite the blood coating her fingers and the injuries to her hands.

“Sit on the railing,” she says to him, her voice flat, calm, in control.

“You fucking bitch!” Guiseppe roars, looking at his injured hand “My hand!”

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