“Fuck that,” I snap and with my gun drawn, I step over onto the yacht. “Surrender and you will live,” I call as I creep up the deck.
Carlo twirls his hand in the air to signal for us to spread out. We sneak along the sides of the deck and I can hear music playing in the distance. It sounds like traditional Italian accordion music.
What the fuck is going on here?
“Hello,” I call.
Val’s eyes hold mine. “Trap,” he mouths.
I nod, something is off here. I peer through the window into the cabin, it’s empty.
“Check the engine room,” I whisper.
Carlo walks past me and disappears up the stairs, Val crouches and skulks up the front. I look around as I try to work out what the fuck is going on here?
The engine is off, the yacht is just drifting along.
Is the anchor down?
There are drinks and cheese and biscuits out on the table as if people were just sitting out here on deck.
Where are they now?
I slowly walk inside the cabin and my heart drops.
Antonio is on the floor, a bullet through his head.
Dead.
I squeeze my gun harder, who the fuck did this?
“Clear,” I hear Carlo call from upstairs.
“It’s empty,” Val calls, “There’s nobody on here.”
“There is somebody,” I call back.
Carlo and Val come down and stop when they see it. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Carlo whispers.
Val bends down onto his knees and looks him over. “I think we found our traitor.”
24
Six weeks later.
Giuliano
The blood rushes to my cock as I watch the hot ass in the tight white dress and I sip my drink to hide my smile.
Francesca.
No matter how long I watch her dance, I’m always in awe.
The hottest woman in the world…is marrying me. All my Christmases have come at once.
Life is good, fucking great actually.
Francesca wanted to move into our Lake Como house while she plans the remodel, and I have to agree with her, it’s been a great decision. I’ve found a happiness in that house that I never knew existed. It doesn’t matter how dated it is, it’s our home. The one we are creating together.
Now that we’re out of the shadows, we can socialize. The seven of us are going out to restaurants and clubs every weekend, we even went away to Ibiza last weekend.
I never thought I would have this, a friend group where my wife would be an integral part of it. My social life has always been so male orientated, it’s different now, the dynamics have changed….and for the better.
Francesca and Anna have become close with Giovanna, Val’s girl. They even hang out through the week sometimes without us boys with them.
Slowly but surely, my family…is becoming her family.
Her family though…. I mean, her mother still fucking pisses me off, some things will never change.
“Another round?” Val asks.
“Yep.” I sip my scotch and he disappears to the bar.
Carlo’s phone vibrates on the table in front of him and he answers, unable to hear, he puts his hand over his ear. “What?” he says as he screws up his face. “Say that again?”
He listens and then his eyes find mine, he smiles broadly. “Are you sure?” He laughs. “Excellent, thanks.” He hangs up and clinks his glass with mine.
“What?” I smirk, he seems very happy with himself.
“Lombardi’s dead.”
“What?” I sit up, suddenly interested. “Are you sure?”
“He died today.”
“Fuck it, I wanted it to be at my hands,” I snap, infuriated.
“That’s why we haven’t been able to find the fucker, he’s been in hospital dying from cancer. The audacity of the fucker.”
“Are you one hundred percent sure?”
“Lombardi Industry have a week of mourning starting tomorrow. All their brothels are closing as a mark of respect.”
I think for a moment, “So…he did actually have cancer?”
He shrugs. “Must have.”
Val returns carrying a tray of drinks. “What?” he says as he sees my face.
“Lombardi’s dead.”
“What?” He falls into the chair. “Who?”
“Cancer.”
“Fuck….” He says shocked.
Carlo holds his glass in the air to symbolize a toast. “To us.”
Val and I chuckle, typical Carlo, everything comes back to him.
“To us.”
Francesca
Giuliano lies on the couch watching television and I sit on the chair with my pen and pad in my hand. My mind is in overdrive. “What about if we put a huge arch window in the far wall next to the entry?” I talk to myself out loud.
“Aren’t you supposed to be finalizing the hotel plans not thinking of more ways for us to demolish this house?” he murmurs, distracted.
“Yes, I’m nearly done with the hotel, thank goodness they let me do everything remotely.”
“Well, you weren’t going back to Rome, that was for sure.”
I go back to my topic. “What do you think about the arch window? A really huge one with the metal gable.”
He glances over. “That wall?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would you want to put a window in that wall?”
“So that when we put our Christmas tree up you can see it from the front.”
He smirks as his eyes stay fixed on the television. “Why are you so obsessed with Christmas?”
“Because it’s my favorite time of the year.”
“You’re like a big baby.”
I smile broadly. “I was thinking for Christmas Day, we could go to church and then my mother’s for breakfast but then come back here for the rest of the day. What do you think?”
He looks over at me, “Or….”
“Or what?”
“Or we could go to Switzerland and get married.”
My eyes widen. “That’s a choice?”
“Why not?” He shrugs casually. “You always said you wanted to get married in the snow.” He stands and goes to retrieve something from his office, he returns and passes it to me. It’s a brochure from a resort in Switzerland, there’s a glass atrium chapel in the side of the mountain, nestled in the snow. It’s incredible and looks like a fairy tale.
“Oh my God…,” I whisper in awe as I study the brochure.
“We could get married on Christmas Eve night, that way your favorite time of the year would be mine too.”
My wide eyes rise to meet his. “But…everyone.”
“Is on board, ready and waiting to come with us.”
“They can come too?”
“Of course, I already asked them.”
I stare at him as my mind begins to race a million miles per minute, “That’s only a month away, I have so much to….” I stand and begin to pace. “I need a dress and then there’s the….” I put my hands in my hair. “Jules, I don’t think I can pull this off in only a month.”
He stands and takes me into his arms, he puts his hand under my jaw and brings my face up to meet his. “Francesca.”
“What?”
“I want you as my wife.”
I smile goofily up at my handsome man. “I want that too, more than anything.”
“Do you want to marry me in Switzerland on Christmas Eve or not?”
“Yes.” Excitement bubbles in my stomach. “I do.”
“Then.” He kisses me softly. “We will make it work.”
We.
I smile goofily up at him. “What exactly are you going to do?”
Who is he kidding? I run our whole lives.
“Fuck you until you’re calm each night,” he replies casually.