Page 69 of The Fixer

“What happened?” she whispers. “Because something did, didn’t it?”

“Yes. Domenico got into a fight with a Russian outfit. They paid a protection fee to transport drugs through Venice, but he decided it wasn’t enough. He doubled the price, and when they wouldn’t pay, he arranged to have their shipment intercepted by thecarabinieri.” My voice is flat. “The Russians fought back. In the resulting shootout, Nikolai Smirnov, the Bratva heir, was killed. His father, Gregor, discovered Cartozzi’s betrayal and wanted to send a message.” I swallow hard. “On my wedding day, the moment Patrizia and I finished exchanging vows, a hired gunman entered our church and opened fire. Patrizia died from a bullet meant for me.”

“Oh God, Leo.” Tears well up in Rosa’s eyes and spill down her cheeks. She wraps her arms around me, enveloping me in her softness. “I’m so,sosorry.”

“She bled out right there in the church,” I continue, forcing myself to relive that painful memory. The hail of bullets that met Patrizia at the church. The look of confusion in her eyes as she clutched her stomach. The red,redblood spreading over her white wedding dress. “She died in my arms on what should have been the happiest day of my life.”

She swallows a sob. “Oh, Leo,” she whispers brokenly. “I wish I knew what to say.”

I cup her cheek and kiss her on her lips. I’m upsetting her and should stop, but the dam has burst open, and I cannot hold back the flood of words. “I was responsible. I didn’t pull the trigger, but I might as well have. I put her in danger the day Iwent to work for Domenico Cartozzi.” I sit on the chair and tug Rosa on my lap. She’s crying for me, and it breaks my heart. “I also took a bullet that day. I was in the hospital for three months. When I got out, I tracked down the gunman, Luigi Ferlito, and killed him.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “He had a wife and a child. I wanted to kill them too.”

“But you didn’t.” There’s no doubt in her voice. She’s utterly convinced of my ability to do the right thing.

“You sound so sure of me.”

“I was there when Angelica was kidnapped,” she replies. “I saw the look in your eyes. You didn’t hurt them, Leo.”

Rosa believes in the innate goodness of people. “I wanted to,” I reply. “Not the child, never the child. Children are always untouchable. But Ferlito’s wife. . . I wanted to kill her. I wanted to put a bullet in her brain with every fiber of my being. I was ready to pull the trigger.”

“What stopped you?”

“It wouldn’t have brought Patrizia back.” I tighten my grip on her waist. “Killing Ferlito was justice. Killing his wife would have been vengeance. Besides, there were other targets, people who deserved to die.While I was recovering in hospital, the situation with the Russians had become an all-out war. I stayed long enough to ensure we won, and then I went to Cartozzi and announced I was out. I was still a nominal member of the Mafia, but I was no longer part of his inner circle. And there I stayed until Antonio Moretti came along and took the throne from him.”

She’s quiet for a long time. “You’ve been dreaming about her death,” she says. “That’s what the nightmares are about?”

“It’s not her death I’m dreaming about, principessa. It’s yours. Night after night, I dream that a gunman interrupts our wedding and kills you. When I’m not with you, I have guards shadowing you. Against her better judgment, I’ve made Valentina hack into the cameras at your gym. I’ve even gone so far as to plant a tracker on your phone. I’m trampling all over your privacy and your autonomy because I’m a paranoid fucking wreck. I love you. If something were to happen to you, I would shatter.”

She twists around to stare at me. “Say that part again,” she whispers.

“Doubling guards, cameras in the gym, tracker on your phone.”

She punches my arm. “Not that part. The other part.”

I intercept her hand before she can punch me again and bring it to my lips. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the day on the beach when I told you that the only way you could save your brother was by marrying me, and you replied that it wasn’t a hardship because I was easy on the eyes.”

Tears roll down her cheeks. “Well, you are,” she says. “I wasn’t lying about that.” She brushes them away with the back of her hand. “I love you too. You probably already know that, though, because unlike you, I wasn’t being inscrutable.”

I feel a smile break out on my face.She loves me.I just told her I was responsible for Patrizia’s death, and she’s not running away screaming. She’s sitting on my lap, her head nestled into my neck, andshe loves me.I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. “You’re not worried about the risks of being married to me?”

She answers my question with one of her own. “Why do you work for Antonio Moretti?”

“Cartozzi lurched from conflict to conflict,” I reply. “He was like a toddler throwing a tantrum. So many people died because of him. So many innocent people’s lives were ruined because of his hubris. It’seasy to fight. Any idiot with a gun and a grievance can do that. It’s a lot harder to maintain peace. I work for Antonio because he never loses his temper, and he’s never erratic. But most importantly, he realizes how destructive war is, and he’ll do everything in his power to avoid it.”

“There’s your answer then,” she replies calmly. “You didn’t kill the wife of the man who murdered your bride, Leo. And you broke Simon’s wrists, but you left him alive. Justice, not vengeance. That’s why I’m not worried.” She makes a face. “Besides, it was Hugh’s actions that sucked me into your world, not yours. If I’m going to be mad at anyone, it should be him.”

Full of surprises. Every single time. “And you’re not angry with me?”

“For what? Because I found out through Annalisa that you were married before? Because you wouldn’t tell me about the nightmares?”

“You knew about Patrizia? Why didn’t you confront me?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me yourself. And you did.” She kisses me gently. “Leo, I can’t even begin to put myself in your shoes. Your wife was murdered at the altar. Nothing in my life even comes close to the trauma you’ve suffered. Of course, I’m not angrywith you—I have nothing to be angry about. As for the guards, if you feel like I’m in danger?—”

“You’re not. The guards, the cameras at the gym, the phone tracker—that’s my paranoia. Spina Sacra is tearing itself apart, and they have too much going on to bother with us. You have no reason to be afraid.”

She studies my face. “But Max Guerra is here, and he’s connected to them, isn’t he? How does he fit in?”

Something niggles in the back of my head. “Who knows?” I reply. “Guerra’s an enigma. I thought he was working for Santini, but then he said he works for Ciro Del Barba, but that story doesn’t ring true either. Valentina compiled a file on him. The guy’s a lone wolf, and he doesn’t stick around. He wanted to talk to Hugh, but he wouldn’t tell me why. He thought Hugh knew something.”

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