Page 4 of Mafiosa
‘Sophie.’ Luca’s hand on my arm, holding me back, as though I would leap at the car and burn myself against the scalded metal. ‘Come away from it.’
I rounded on him. ‘Why should I?’
This message was for me. Why should I hide from it? The immediate world began to fade – the edges of it blurring black and quiet around me. I had never known animosity like this. I had never felt so passionate about anything.
I stared at the car again. I could feel my anger pounding in my ears, heating the tips of my fingers. It was catching in my chest. Pooling underneath my tongue. Prickling up the back of my neck.
Calm down.
Your time will come.
You’re going to make them pay.
CHAPTER TWOALLY
In the library atEvelina, I collapsed into an armchair and tried to massage the headache from my temples. Even after three showers, I could still smell the dead rats, the lingering smoke. It was making me sick.
I tried to quell the rush of heat surging through me, pushing my heart rate up, tripping through my breathing. I lay back, counted out a seven-second exhale. Bookshelves lined every wall and climbed right up to the corniced ceiling. Three stained-glass windows peered on to the gardens at the front of the house.
An oil painting of Evelina Falcone, Felice’s dead wife, hung over the stately fireplace, her half-lidded gaze turned towards the windows, her lips curving into a small smile. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, coming loose in tendrilsaround her face. It was like something out of the past – a Da Vinci recreation, the makings of a shrine. I had no doubt that Felice had commissioned it, that he had bought her the diamond choker around her neck. And yet, for all the wealth she must have had, her eyes held only sadness.
The library was like a place of worship, with low lighting and an array of sumptuous leather chairs, and yet there was a staleness about it too. In this palace full of game rooms, flat-screen TVs, consoles and acres of land to lose yourself in, there were few Falcones who chose to seek out solace in the library, and so it had become like a time capsule from another era. Dusty and forgotten. Silent.
Silence was exactly what I needed.
A knock at the door roused my thoughts before they could spiral somewhere violent. Nic slipped inside, his hands shoved in his back pockets. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey.’
His hair was wet, dark strands sticking to his forehead. He smelt like shampoo – not smoke, not like me. He sank into the chair opposite me. ‘What are you doing in here?’
‘Oh, you know, just seething in a fresh vat of my own vengefulness.’
He offered me a half-smile. ‘Sounds productive.’
I shrugged. ‘What’s up with you?’
He tilted his head, his mouth quirking to one side. ‘Just looking for someone to get vengeful with.’
‘You sound like you’re being serious,’ I pointed out.
‘I am.’
We looked at each other for a long moment. It was comfortable – the silence between us. It felt nice to have anally, someone who could see the ugliness inside me and didn’t expect me to shy away from it.
I broke the silence. ‘So they know where I am.’
‘They’re an embarrassment to our culture,’ he shot back.
‘I’m going to make them pay.’ My breath hitched, but I smoothed my features. I wanted him to believe me; I needed him to believe me.
‘Of course you are.’ Nic’s features had hardened into a mask of conviction; his jaw set, his eyes blazing. He sat forward, his elbows on his knees. ‘It will be a bloodbath, Sophie. Donata won’t know what’s coming. We’re going to take everyone from her. It will get rid of your sadness, when you know she’s not out there terrorizing innocent people. We’re going to stand over her and show her just how wrong she was to mess with—’
‘Nicolò.’
Nic bit the rest of his sentence off. Annoyance clouded his expression as he turned around. Luca was standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
‘What?’ Nic asked, exasperatedly.
