“What are you talking about?” I spit. “Enrico is dead.”
He throws his head back and laughs out loud. “You poor deluded child. Enrico Ferrara is alive and well, living comfortably on an island somewhere in the Caribbean.”
What?
My heart begins to sound in my ears.
Can’t be…he’s alive?
“It is time for retribution!” Lombardi cries out loud. “An eye for an eye.”
I stare at him horrified; he’s gone completely mad.
“He killed my only son. Stole my ancestry line, something I can never get back,” he yells in a dramatic fashion. “Cut me so deep that I’ve never recovered.” He takes a slow drag of his cigar as he seemingly contemplates his next sentence. “And now I am going to kill him,” he says calmly and then looks over at me and waves his cigar toward me. “And you.”
I’m crippled with fear, my eyes well with tears.
“He will be here.” He looks at his watch. “In approximately twelve hours.”
What?
How does he know that?
I look over to Carlo who is sitting in the corner, a cigar in his hand and his eyes fixed on me. “How could you?” I whisper through tears. “You were our friend.”
He raises an eyebrow and inhales and then, as if thinking, he rolls the cigar in the ashtray.
“A deal’s a deal,” Lombardi says to Carlo. “You have kept your side of the bargain and delivered her to me and now I will deliver what was promised to you. I give you my blood.”
Huh?
He walks over to Carlo and picks up a knife from the table and cuts the palm of his hand. Blood runs down his hand.
What the fuck is happening right now?
Carlo stands, he takes the knife and cuts his hand the same way.
I wince, the brutality of this is too much.
They shake hands, palm to palm. Blood to blood.
Lombardi pulls Carlo into a hug. “Lead wisely, my son.” He kisses his cheek.
“Yes sir, I will,” Carlo replies. “You have my word.”
My eyes widen in horror…what?
Lombardi turns to the other guards in the room. “Meet your new leader.” He holds his hand out. “Carlo Bernetti. Our next generation.”
They all bow their head in a mark of respect.
What the fuck?
Carlo takes out his phone and dials a number, he waits while it rings. “It is done.”
Who’s he talking to?
“I want a team sent down.” He listens again. “Snipers.”
What?
“We are at the second location.”
Wait…what was the first?
“Enrico Ferrara is Lombardi’s kill, do you hear me? Nobody is to take that from him,” he continues.
He listens again with a cool detachment, and it all becomes crystal clear.
Carlo has already been running Lombardi Industries from afar.
For how long?
Dear God.
He listens again. “Have the chopper ready.”
Lombardi coughs, it’s loud and rumbly, deep from his chest. Carlo’s eyes rise to him and he walks over and gently hits Lombardi on the back to help him get his breath. An intimate act that depicts their closeness.
Lombardi is dying.
He keeps coughing, struggling to regain control, and Carlo takes the cigar from him and puts it down in the ashtray as he talks on the phone.
“Have a nurse on the chopper,” he says calmly, he pats Lombardi’s pockets and pulls out a bottle of pills, he takes two and passes them to Lombardi who swallows them whole.
Fuck.
Lombardi really doesn’t have long.
He has nothing to lose, that makes him more dangerous than ever.
“I’ll be going ahead with stage three.” He smiles darkly as he listens. “I will, don’t worry.” He listens again. “I’ll call you when it’s done.” He hangs up.
Stage three? What’s stage three?
I watch him, I’ve never felt so betrayed.
Anna.
Dear God, Anna.
The gorgeous man who Anna loves…is pure evil.
Carlo kisses Lombardi on both cheeks. “You are in safe hands; another team will be here soon. I’ll be back when it is done.”
“When what is done?” I ask as my eyes flick between them.
Carlo’s cold eyes meet mine and he smiles darkly. “My first task as the Lombardi leader.”
What’s that?
My eyes search his.
He walks up close, leans down, puts his mouth to my ear and whispers, “I’m going to kill your beloved Giuliano.” He grabs my face and licks it. “Now, while he trusts me.”
Oh no….
Giuliano does trust him.
I struggle in my chair to get away but I’m tied in place. “No,” I cry. “You can’t. Please. Don’t touch him.”
He gives a nod to the other men and then walks toward the door.
“What about Anna?” I cry. “She loves you. How could you do this to her?” His step falters and I know I just hit a nerve.
Maybe the only nerve of decency that he has left. Still facing the door, he says, “I’ll be back for Anna.”
His silhouette blurs.
“I look after mine,” he replies coldly before walking out the door, it slams behind him with a bang.
Giuliano
I look around the mountaintop, searching for an answer.
“What the fuck is going on?” Alex cries as he looks around in horror. “Bruno.” He drops to his knees to check for a pulse.
Our other guards walk around, guns drawn as they search.
The snow is coming down and while Valentino weeps over the body of his girl, I know I don’t have much time to work out what went on here. Falling snow is about to cover everything. My eyes skim over the surface of the mountain in search of clues.
Footprints.
There are a group, they were standing here.
I look over to where Bruno and Giovanna lie, this is where they stood when they shot them. There is a large dent in the snow with blood, as if someone was hit and knocked over. I study the size and shape of the hole in the snow.
Francesca.
From there, I can see there was a struggle, she put up a fight as she was dragged up the hill. I survey the whole area, six sets of footprints in total.
I look out over the snow-covered mountain and then follow the footsteps up and over the mountain. There I find the chopper rail marks, there is no snow on the trees around here, the chopper blades have blown it all off. I get a vision of the horror that went down here.
Francesca.
I run back to Valentino. “We have to find phone service.”
“I’m not leaving her here,” he cries. “This is all my fault.”
My heart breaks for him. “You stay with her. I’ll send someone.” I turn to the guards. “Stay here with him.”
“But you….”
“He needs you more. They’re gone. I’m safe,” I yell, I turn and begin to run down the mountain.
I slip and slide and somersault and fuck me…I hate fucking snow.
I roll my ankle and near knock myself out. I have to zigzag down the mountain, it’s too slippery to go the quickest route.
Why the fuck didn’t I go skiing with her?
My hands are burning from the ice…and why the fuck aren’t I wearing gloves?
I slip again and fall hard and flat on my ass. I try to get up and fall again, I try again and fall even harder.
Fuck!
I pant as I lie in the ice.
What the hell are these stupid fucking shoes I’m wearing?