Page 16 of Scar

Brando leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regards me thoughtfully.

“A thirteen-year-old overdosed over on Hibbit’s Corner,” Brando informs me, adjusting his watch.

“They’re making their move to take control,” Lucky adds. “With the old man gone and Don Marone out of commission, they think they can push us out. They want to sell drugs, Scar. They’ve already started pushing their agenda, trying to poison our territories.”

A cold fury settles over me. We’ve always stood against the drug trade, and this is a good enough example of why. Allowing the Lucianis free rein to flood our streets with narcotics would result in chaos.

My mind races, formulating a strategy. We need to send a clear message, but not before we have what we need. Who was behind the attack, and who their allies are. Because you don’t do something as foolish as hitting a Gatti stronghold without having the blessing of some heavy hitters.

“Confirm that it’s the Lucianis muscling in.”

My voice is filled with steely determination as I fire off a to-do list. Without assigning any brother to a task, they already know who does what. We have our rhythm so organized; we work together like a well-oiled machine.

“Pull up all footage of any known associates within a thirty-mile radius of the armory. And hit the streets for that product that’s floating around – find out its origins and who it belongs to.”

Rafi speaks up for the first time, his voice calm and measured. “I’ve heard whispers about a new player in town,someone with connections in South America. If the Lucianis have partnered with them, we’re dealing with a much bigger problem.”

I nod. We’ve tried to keep Rafi out of the family business. One of us must have clean hands. But he’s proven over the years to have the best intel we can possibly get. Being part of the college crowd affords him access to people we wouldn’t ever have access to otherwise.

After my brothers leave the room, I stay behind, sitting at my desk as I contemplate our next step. The Lucianis are not a family to be trifled with, but we’d faced worse before. I find it curious that they would pick now to make their move, but it isn’t altogether implausible. The one thing I know for sure is I would not allow my family’s legacy to be tarnished by the poison of the drug trade. If we let this one vice into our city, every other bloodsucking trade would be next to follow. And I can’t let that happen. I won’t let it happen.

CHAPTER 15 – ALLEGRA

I lounge on the chaise on my balcony, gazing out at the vast gardens that stretch as far as the eye can see. Rows and rows of perfectly trimmed bushes and hedges, vibrant flowers in full bloom, and winding paths leading to hidden fountains and statues create a dreamlike atmosphere. The trees cast long shadows on the lush green grass, while the sweet scent of jasmine floats through the air. This tranquil setting has a calming effect on my mind, loosening knots in my muscles and allowing me to breathe easier.

But even in this peaceful haven, I cannot escape the haunting sound of Scar's voice echoing through every room of our house. To silence his words, I’ve spent the entire day outside. But they linger like a corrosive acid in the pit of my stomach. Our argument, fierce and raw, has only added another layer of strain to our already precarious marriage. Sometimes I can't decide who hates the other more.

Despite Scar's absence, I can still feel his presence like a heavy weight on my shoulders. The anger that fueled my defiance is beginning to fade, leaving behind a weary sense of resignation. I am tired; tired of fighting, tired of hating, and tired of being nothing more than a pawn in a game I never wanted to be a part of.

As the warm sun kisses my skin, my eyes drift shut not in sleep but to escape into unspoken thoughts.

In my mind's eye, I replay our confrontation. Scar's fury was palpable, like violent waves crashing against a rocky shore. But beneath it all, there was also fear. It was the first time I had ever seen it so clearly - his underlying terror that I might find solace or affection in someone else's arms. It doesn't make sense to me because our marriage is simply a contract fulfillment for him. But then again, he hasn’t been one to allow me anything that would bring me happiness or fulfillment.

It's hard to understand what drives Scar - what makes him so angry. Despite acting like he despises me; his jealousy is always simmering just below the surface. Does he see me as an object to be owned and eventually discarded?

At times, I catch glimpses of something different in his gaze - fleeting moments where it seems like there may be more to him than the monster he portrays. As I reflect on our recent confrontation, these memories come back with a clarity that makes me uneasy. Could it be possible that there is more complexity to Scar than meets the eye? Can a creature like him truly have feelings or care about anything besides himself and his empire?

I let out a heavy sigh, feeling torn by conflicting emotions. Hatred requires so much energy to maintain - it burns hot and bright but leaves destruction in its wake. And as each day passes, I find myself less willing to feed its flames.

Scar is undeniably a monster, but perhaps he is not beyond redemption. And though it pains me, I retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom, my mind swirling with emotions. I pace back and forth, trying to make sense of all the turmoil inside me.

How could I feel so torn about a man who wants to destroy me? I despise him. He's taken everything from me - myfreedom, my dreams, my identity. But the more I try to suppress my emotions, the less I feel hatred and the more I feel an intense desire to understand the man who is now my husband. My enemy. My sworn nemesis.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I struggle with these conflicting emotions. This isn't like me. I'm not the type of woman who lets a man like Scar Gatti get under her skin. I am strong, independent, capable of standing up for myself. But Scar...he's different. He's a storm that I can't seem to escape.

My feelings for him are changing and it frightens me. The lines between love and hate, desire and disgust, are becoming blurred. I caught a glimpse of his vulnerability, a moment where he let his guard down, and now everything I thought I knew about him is being questioned.

But then I remember his cruelty, how he forced me into this marriage against my will. He kidnapped me from my home without letting me pack any belongings. I can't forget that. And yet, as I sit here with my heart racing, I can't deny one truth: Scar Gatti is now a part of my life, for however long he wants me to be alive.

I can't deny our physical attraction either. It's impossible to ignore; even a blind person could see it. But there has to be more to this...this twisted relationship. How could I want someone who I despise with every fiber of my being?

This place, this life, is my prison and there seems to be no escape in sight. Scar has made it clear that he intends to keep me here and in some strange way, I've come to terms with that reality. Maybe...just maybe...I can find some kind of peace with Scar. Not because I want to, but because I must. For my own sake and for the sake of my future.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. Juliana's voice comes through, telling me that Don Gatti wants me in the den. My heart jumps into my throat – what does he want now?

“Don Gatti requests your presence in the den.”

I look up at Juliana, trying to read her face. She’s inscrutable. She has no idea why, she tells me, but she purses her lips in a way that tells me I probably shouldn’t defy him again today.

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