Chapter 80

I sped through my streets, too lost in ire to give a shit about the slick roads. I just wanted to get home and keep an eye on Alessandra after hanging up with Alfonzo Silva. But before the call ended, I made it clear to Las Vegas how I didn't share Franco Zanetti's idea of progress.

Progress. The old man wanted progress. It was laughable.

There had to be something I was missing.

Something I'd overlooked.

It was unsettling, and my demon warned.

Because all Franco Zanetti was provoking was for this war to continue against my city after I would kill Giuliani. And it drove me mad not seeing or understanding his end game aside from pride.

Now I would have to face him in my own home, knowing the troubles he continued to cause. Because men kept pouring, and we were starting to get hit from all angles.

Then, there was the shift I felt. The sway of power like a sound of crumbling dust falling off a pick as it slowly chipped my empire.

I pulled my car onto the deep and gravel road that led to Leonardo's home. I had to calm down. I needed Leonardo's advice and thoughts before I could lose control with the Zanetti that slept in my bed. I couldn't share this with her.

"Leonardo?" I roared as I opened the front door.

All the lights inside were off. Nothing had been disturbed and an uncanny silence traveled through the house, causing a rousing alarm to settle. The dread engulfed my body as I glanced at the chair he spent most of his time in, empty and without a mug resting on its side table under the darkness.

Darkness. It shouldn't be dark. The house should be covered with lit lamps. The low static sound of the radio he kept on through the day should be humming through the walls. Instead, it was too quiet, haunting.

"Leonardo?"

I picked my phone out of my pocket and shot Nate a quick text as I walked through the silent halls.

Where's Alessandra?

Nate texted back immediately.

She was last drawing on her iPad. Feet over your desk.

She was last.

Not last. Now.

I peered into the kitchen. It was empty.

"Leonardo!" I yelled.

My phone vibrated against my palm.

No change.

A slither of constraint diminished in my chest, but I couldn't shake off the worry feeling.

Don't lose sight of her. I texted back and pocketed my phone back.

I didn't attempt the upper floor. It always remained vacant, forgotten. Instead, my feet pushed through the hall straight to his bedroom door. I pushed the door open to the smell of disinfecting alcohol and woods, and my body froze.

"Leonardo?"

Immediately, I rushed to his body as he sat slumped against the side of the bed. A low whistle of air escaped from the tube far within his reach, and the oxygen tank lay sideways by the corner.

He still wore his sleepwear. Leonardo never made it out of his room this morning.

No, no, no.

My hands shot to his face, cupping his soft wrinkled skin. It was cool butI slipped my fingers to his neck and pressed down.

One.

Two.

I counted through the trembles that coursed through my fingertips, and as I stared at his closed eyes, calm features, and slouched shoulders without the feel of his heartbeat, mine drummed loudly, raging inside its cage.

"Come on, you bastard!" I cupped his face and shook him.

Breathe.

I took a deep breath, balled my fingers, and tried again.

One.

Two.

Three.

I laughed.

It was faint, subtle, and yet, it meant life. I pressed my fingers deeper to count each beat and pulled his head onto my chest. I reached for the air tube on the floor and maneuvered the tangled cord to place it under his nose and around his head.

My fingers fell, knowing his heart rate was low and weak, and I sat with him for a minute longer, trying to calm the dread that wouldn't dull even through relief. I needed to carry him to his bed, but the urine smell filled my lungs. Leonardo soiled himself. Angered by the thought of how long he had been alone weighed me down. I helped him back against the bed to find a fresh pair of silk sleep pants.

I moved swiftly, changing him, and once I pooled his old clothes on the floor, I picked him up and carried him over to the bed. My phone rang as I stared at him as he slept, and I answered while covering him with a blanket.

"Yes." I scratched my throat.

"The plane will land shortly," Elio's voice broke through the receiver.

"I'm aware." Leonardo shifted his head. "Bring Mrs. Carmine to Leonardo's and call Camille."

"Massimo."

"Do it." I hung up.

I watched the rise and fall of Leonardo's chest. It grew stronger as the minutes drifted by and all I did was stare at the man who once took me from hell while I couldn't take him away from his.

Tires cruised loudly outside, and I stood over him. I placed my hand on his forehead, feeling the warmth returning, and slid my palm over the peach fuzz on his head back.

"I never feared you, but I feared for you."

I looked at him one last time and stood. Every step I took away from him felt wrong. However, I couldn't stay, his pride wouldn't allow anything more, and the Mafia in his blood wouldn't appreciate me if I stepped away from my duties.

It was our way of life.

Elio and Mrs. Carmine exited the car and rushed under the rain to meet me on the covered front porch. Her face was stricken in worry as her hands clenched together to her chest. Elio held her elbow as she walked up the stairs.

"Camille will be here shortly," Elio said without emotion, and I tipped my chin with gratitude knowing the nurse would be staying with him along with Mrs. Carmine.

"Is he alright?" Mrs. Carmine rushed. "I stopped by early this morning, but he was still sleeping, and with tonight's dinner, and the wedding tomorrow, and all the preparations, and-"

"He's stubborn, Mrs. Carmine," I cut off her panicked rambling. "Leonardo is now in bed. Please make sure he eats something."

"Of course." The dull blue hue of her eyes stewed over his well-being.

"One last thing," I added. "You changed his clothing, understood?"

"Mio, Dio," she uttered before agreeing with a tilt. "Yes, sir."

Mrs. Carmine quickly slipped inside, and I watched her back as she scurried deeper into the house.

"Is he alright?" Elio said behind me.

"For now."

"Should we call the doctor?"

There was nothing they could do, no medicine to help, and no further treatments as cancer had eaten him away rapidly.

"No."

"Want to talk about it?"

I faced him.

"No."

I walked away into the heavy rain and got into my car while the daunting feeling of turmoil broke through in rage.

"Massimo?" Alessandra's sweet Italian accent called out for me.

I turned toward the opened walk-in closet door as I secured the last cufflink and met her vivid emeralds. She ranted about flower arrangements and the dinner menu as she walked closer. Her tongue rolled thick as it always did when she was flustered. Her hands waved all over, expressing the stress she wouldn't admit to as her family would be shortly arriving.

She hadn't changed as I had asked, and my eyes roamed over the silk champagne dress that slipped over her curves and the thin straps that held the fabric loosely, dipping low into the swells of her breasts. Her long bourbon hair teased her glowing skin as it lay in messy and taunting soft waves.

Alessandra was a wicked sight of spirit and sin, both a desire of mine.

My dick twitched, growing hard at the mere sight of her walking before me, the diamond on her slender finger, and the long black nails I wanted to feel puncture my back. And as I looked at her bow lips, stained in red without the need for lipstick, I wanted to taste the cherry flavor they promised.

"Everyone is here on our side," she continued.

Our side.

My dick was now stiff and heavy inside my pressed pants.

"But Leonardo hasn't made it yet. Should I search for Mrs-"

When she stood in front of me, I grabbed her by the back of her neck. Her eyes widened, and her tits swelled against my chest.

"He's unwell and apologizes for not making it tonight."

Alessandra's mouth parted, and her hands flew to my arms, nails gripping, and blood rushing her cheeks.

I had her twice this morning, but it wasn't enough. I needed another taste, another touch to lose myself deep inside her while everything else felt unsteady.

I wanted her.

"Is everything al-"

I shut her mouth with mine, running my hands furiously over the dark curtains of her hair and brought her face, her body, her fucking soul closer.

Alessandra didn't hesitate. No, she, too, craved the high our bodies would reach and the unleashing of our troubles onto one another. Her fingers fumbled with the button of my pants as I ravaged her lips and neck with my mouth. I pulled her hair, stretching her neck as she freed and tugged my dick with her delicate fingers.

Our hands were wild, rough as they touched, and our kiss was carnal, hungry.

I couldn't hold on longer with her hand pumping and her sultry sounds of need. I flipped and bent her over onto the glass top of the island cabinet, pushing my weight against her back. She gasped loudly at the forceful shift of our bodies. I brushed her hair to the side of her face as I pressed her cheek against the cool glass. While I had her pinned beneath me, my free hand slipped her dress up and over her round ass.

Alessandra was bare, only a lace knife holster wrapped around her right thigh. My chest rumbled deep in appreciation for the depraved sight of the glistening blade and her naked flesh she had covered in just a thin silk dress. Alessandra spread her legs apart, and the motion caused her ass to wiggle and rub my dick, and I groaned.

"Per favore," she begged in Italian.

I gripped my dick from its jerking need and placed it near her entrance.

Thrust.

I gave her what she wanted. I took what I wanted, and I beat my dick deep inside her over and over, losing all control inside her damning body.

"Massimo!"

Alessandra cried, and I closed my eyes, listening to the slaps of our flesh and the sounds she couldn't hold.

I clutched her side as I rammed inside her and lowered my mouth to her ear.

"That's right, cara mia, you will take it all."

I bit the sensitive spot behind her ear, and she whined.

"Ahh."

"Every sore step you take, you'll think of me," I whispered. "And every word your swollen lips utter when you speak to your brothers, you will remember who bruised them."

"Yes!"

"And while you sit in front of your father, my cum will run down your leg, and you will remember you are mine."

"Sì!"

My hand reached her front, and I rubbed my palm into her sensitive bud, pressing and extracting out her screams that only took me deeper.

"Say it,cara mia." My voice lowered with warning. "Say it out loud. Say who you belong to."

"You!" she cried. "I belong to you."

My balls tightened as a shrill ran in my spine hearing her affirmation, and I emptied myself inside as I heard her scream in union to our deal.