“Why should I believe you?” I ask him rhetorically and feel my own incredulity ripple through me. I feel like such a fool for believing in him earlier. I believed everything was going to work out, but I was an imprudent woman for thinking that. I have no idea why my gut instinct is telling me he had a hand in it, and I can’t fight the need to blame him. After all of his threats and all of our arguments, how do I find the strength not to see him as instigator to Zane’s shooting? “Because you’re such a man of honesty, aren’t you?”
“Amelia, Bambina, this isn’t on me!” he defends himself fiercely. “I vowed to allow you this hit. If I wanted him dead, I wouldn’t have left him half-dead. I would have made sure that fucker was stone cold dead before I left him.”
I pale at the thought of my father standing over Zane’s dead body. It’s not a pleasant view, and my heart cramps at the concept. I know my father is right – he would never have left Zane with a chance to be revived. However, I remain silent, unable to believe anyone until I know what really happened and who really was behind this.
“What else was said?” My father rises to his feet, washing away his softer exterior and replacing his father stance with the mob boss one.
“They were ambushed by an unknown assailant while out on a call nearby to here. That’s all I was able to find out.” Enzo speaks so gravely, and I can tell from the way he won’t look at me that he knows the severity of this. “They were called out to a disturbance, but it was all a hoax.”
“And Billy?” my father asks regarding our lead informant within the Manhattan PD. “Is he okay?”
“Took a bullet to the arm and side,” Enzo relays the truth of the matter. “He made a point of contacting us as soon as he could, but he’s in surgery now, too. He fought medical staff to call me.”
My father blanches at the thought of one of his most trusted men in danger. Billy is the only cop who decided to become dirty and work with the mafia. He needed money, and he has a lack in conscience that drove him to make the decision. Ever since, fifteen years ago, he hasn’t stepped out of line once. He was the one who informed my father of Zane’s latest project – The Abbiatis.
The thought of all this sickens me, but I can’t just stand here. I’m dressed to the nines, supposed to be celebrating a new year of my life, and I feel like grief is yanking at the hem of my skirt, waiting to transform me into a howling banshee.
“What about Zane?” I ask feebly, still lost in a trance of skepticism. “Please, Enzo, what were you told?”
Now, when he finally looks at me, the weight of his gaze is an enormity I wasn’t prepared for. “Lia, I don’t know much more than the fact he took three bullets to the abdomen and one to the thigh.” I can see he’s praying his strength will keep me going. “It wasn’t a shootout either. Zane had no chance to fire a bullet before he was shot in the thigh deliberately to disarm him. Billy explained how the shooter shot him in the abdomen before making a beeline for Zane.” His eyes twist with darkness. “This was calculated.”
I hiccup on a cry, and I’m glad when Carlo steps in to put his arms around me. I know I need to stay strong – after all, my father is watching – but right now, I’m in a tangled web of panic. I shakily wipe my tears away and strive to regain some poise in order to see me out of this room and into privacy away from prying eyes in this room.
“This is proof you love that man too much,” my father argues at my emotional input.
“I was about to say the same thing,” Giovanni pipes up, still relaxed and merry in our father’s chair. “You should be fucking happy this family can live on in peace without him hovering over us.”
“I don’t care,” I remark shakily, ignoring Giovanni completely. “I gave you my new plan, now you have to honor me that.” My lies swoop from me with ease. “This will grant me the chance to do what I said.” My eyes water at the thought that Zane is already dead in a hospital, but my mind tells me he’s fighting for us. “You might want him dead as soon as possible, but I want him to live just a little while longer so I can say that I felt something real before you take it fully away from me.” My statements seem to be really hitting him hard as I see the fall of Salvatore Abbiati occur. Usually he dismisses my comments, but apparently, not offering him barefaced lies is affecting his ability to remain fierce and stoic. However, seeing this isn’t cause for me to want to embrace him and ask for another deal. It won’t happen no matter how much I crack him. So, I decide to do the one thing I need to – go find Zane. “I have to get there,” I whisper and before anyone can stop me or alter my plan, I flee the room.
I don’t run and I don’t hesitate with my steps. I walk with poise, trying my hardest not to break down on myself. I just need to find my car keys and leave.
My name is called in differing voices, tones, and levels of desperation, but I listen to no one but myself.
Zane needs me.