Mom rushed upstairs, Dad following behind her. Her wails rang through the house and brought tears to my own eyes.
Sam walked toward Dad’s office and I trailed behind him. He poured himself a drink and downed it, then sagged into one of the armchairs, looking disheveled and heartbroken. I crept toward him and touched his shoulder, wanting to give him comfort. He and Fina had been inseparable, and now she was gone.
“She chose him. She saved him,” he gritted out, and then he told me how Fina had gone to a safe house where they’d kept Remo Falcone to kill him and she’d saved him. Dante had let her go and now my family blamed my uncle for losing Fina, but she’d made her choice to leave—not Dante. He’d only honored her wish. I didn’t voice my thoughts and listened to Sam’s increasingly drunk ramblings. When he mentioned Danilo, I perked up.
“Danilo was there?”
Sam nodded and staggered to his feet to grab another drink.
“Why was he there?”
Sam was already unsteady on his legs, and I wished he’d stop drinking but I couldn’t tell him what to do. He snorted. “Because Danilo’s been dreaming about tearing Remo fucking Falcone apart since the day he stole Fina from him. We’ve all been dreaming about it, about finally getting our revenge. But did we get it? Fuck no. Dante took that from us, and now Fina’s gone just like any chance at revenge we ever had.” He downed the drink.
I’d foolishly hoped that Danilo had gotten over losing Fina, that he’d moved on, but if revenge was still on his mind that obviously wasn’t the case. “Why can’t you just move on?” I whispered. It was the question I wanted to ask Danilo.
Samuel laughed bitterly. “Move on? There’s no fucking way I can just move on. I lost her, and nothing and no one could ever replace her.” He slumped in his chair, looking like he was seconds away from passing out.
I knew Samuel didn’t mean to hurt me, and I knew I could never replace Serafina. She and Samuel had always been a unit. They were twins. Their bond was special, and I’d always accepted it. Yet, after hearing his words, I felt crushed, knowing that the same thoughts were probably going through Danilo’s mind. He’d wanted Fina, had chosen her, and now he was left with me instead. Samuel’s breathing had evened out and his eyes were closed. I carefully removed the glass from his hand and put it on the table. I left him in the armchair and crept out of the room. When I arrived upstairs, I heard Mom’s crying coming from their bedroom. For a couple of heartbeats, I hovered in the hallway, wondering if I should knock and try to console her.
But Mom was a private crier. She probably wanted to be alone, so I passed the room by.
That night when I lay in my bed, I allowed myself to cry.
After a moment of exhilarating euphoria yesterday when Remo Falcone had handed himself over in exchange for his younger brother we’d captured, after hours of seeing him getting tortured and torturing him myself, my mood had now hit rock bottom.
I raced through Minneapolis, not even sure where I was going. I’d waited for this day for months. I’d lost count of the times I’d imagined how to dismember Remo, how to bring him to his knees and make him beg for mercy. He did neither. Till the very end, his air of arrogance remained untouched. It didn’t matter what we did to him, he kept up that arrogant smirk. Maybe if we’d gotten the chance to go through with our plan and cut his fucking dick off, he would have finally begged, but we were thwarted.
After all our struggling and effort, Remo Falcone had won. Serafina, the woman he’d kidnapped and dishonored, had saved him with Dante’s help.
I’d felt an onslaught of guilt when Serafina had been kidnapped and even after she’d returned to us broken, a shadow of the girl I thought I knew. Now, anger took up more and more of my emotions, becoming almost overpowering. The instant she’d pointed her gun at us to protect her kidnapper—our worst enemy—I’d hated her. It was one thing to be born on the wrong side and to not know any better like most Camorrista, but it was unforgivable to be raised in the Outfit and defect. Woman or not. She could have sent her twins to Las Vegas and stayed where she belonged—in the Outfit.
I pulled into the parking lot of a random bar, not even sure if it was one of our own or if it belonged to the Bratva. I didn’t care. I killed the engine and got out of my car.
Inside the dingy, dimly lit bar, I downed one shot after the other. The barkeeper didn’t ask any questions or try to prevent me from getting dangerously shitfaced.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a blonde woman. My heart skipped a beat—for a moment, I thought it was Serafina. I wanted to kick myself for my own idiocy. I downed the rest of my drink and thumped the glass on the counter. The barkeeper refilled my glass without a comment. Upon closer inspection, the woman down the counter from me had no resemblance with my ex-fiancée except for the similar hair color. Every inch of this woman’s face spoke of a life full of hardships and frustrations. Serafina had lived in a golden cage. She’d never had to
