Chapter Four
I swallowed the sharp breath that had caught in my throat, forcing my muscles to relax despite the tension clawing at my spine. My uncle sat there, still as stone, his piercing gaze locked onto mine like a predator sizing up its prey.
I summoned some courage. Straightening my shoulders, taking a step forward, I forced a calm, neutral expression onto my face.
"Uncle," I greeted, my voice smooth despite the undercurrent of unease. "What brings you here?"
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he studied me with a forbearing patience that was more intimidating than outright hostility.
Then, low and laced with authority, he spoke, "Francesca Andrea Marino" his voice thundered. "What have you done this time?"
The way he spoke my full name sent a shiver down my spine. He only did that when I was in serious trouble. I tilted my head to one side, feigning innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
His eyes didn't flicker. "Don't play games with me, Francesca. I know you're the one who's been committing the murders that have been making the headlines."
I maintained my face impassive, though a slow, half-amused smile was trying to pull at my mouth. "That's a pretty serious accusation, Uncle. And why do you think you're so certain?"
His jaw clenched. "Because I know what you can do." Before I could get a chance to reply, he continued. "I met with some of the mafia leaders today. The men you killed worked for them at different times.
Now they are seeking out whoever it was, not out of sympathy for the dead, but because they wish to know if the killer is a danger to them. You're putting yourself in danger, Francesca."
I folded my arms, holding his gaze steadfast. "I can handle myself."
His face dropped into shadows. "This isn't just about you," he snapped, his voice lowering to something more raw, more personal. "All you've done since your parents died is chase ghosts, dragging yourself deeper into a war that will never end. And now, you're in more danger than ever."
He exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at me again, his voice quieter but no less intense. "Don't be irresponsible, kid. All I've ever attempted to do is look after you and your brother. If anything happens to either or both of you, I'd never be able to live with myself."
Guilty pangs wracked my chest for an instant before I pushed them away. "Don't worry yourself about me," I said, sitting beside him with a sullen look on my face. "I know what I'm doing."
His silence hung between us, weighed down with unspoken horrors. And then, finally, I added, "And I know who killed my parents."
His head snapped up. His eyes, ever so controlled, blazed with something un-readable. "What?"
I met his gaze, my voice unwavering. "I tortured those men and before I killed them, they gave me a name."
I leaned in a fraction, letting the force of my words sink in between us and when he had gottenhimself together, I dropped the bomb.
"Vincenzo Lombardi."
My uncle frowned, the name dancing in his head like a ghost from the past.
"Vincenzo…" He shook his head tightly. "The name rings a bell, but I don't know where I've seen him before."
I glared at him. "He's powerful, well-connected, and deadly. And now,fate brought him to my door step. I report directly to him."
His eyes grew cold, frightened even. "What are you saying?"
I exhaled. Standing up, I walked around the couch and sat down in the chair opposite him. "The Hospital referred me to him today," I explained. "His man was injured and he wanted the best. And now, I've been appointed his personal surgeon."
My uncle's expression grew stern. "Francesca, listen to me, this is a mistake. Working that close to him? It's not safe. Please, you have to leave this job."
I nodded my head. "No."
His lips were set in a hard line. "You're playing with fire."
"Then let me burn," I shot back, my voice steady. "I'm not walking away from this, Uncle. You know who he is now. I have searched for answers all my life, now that I finally have it, I will not turn away."
"Then atleast let me take care of it. You've done enough locating him, do not put yourself in the limelight."
My eyes scrunched up as I thought about what he had just said. "I will not leave this job, let me be your informant. I'll supply you on the things I can obtain but I cannot simply relinquish my post."
Silence reigned between us once more. He stared at me, seeking to spot a weak link in my resolve. But I did not yield.
Finally, he sighed and massaged his temple. "Fine," he growled. "But you need to be careful, Francesca. And you need to promise me something."
I arched a brow. "What?"
"You will never hurt Vincenzo or make him think you're there on business. If he even gets a whiff of your real motives, you're dead meat."
I glared at him. "I promise."
But even as I said it, in the recesses of my mind, I knew, some promises were to be broken.
The sound of the door clicking shut behind my uncle still echoed in my head as I flopped back down on the couch, rubbing my temples.
He was right about one thing, I'd raised some eyebrows. But that was what I wanted, wasn't it? Let them take a sneek peak. Let them wonder.
I could use a shower.
I dragged myself over and walked across the room, stripping off my clothes and dropping them in a bunch on the floor as I made it to the bathroom.
The hot water pounded against my skin, beating the tension out of me, but my mind refused to settle. I was thinking about Lombardi. About his weakness. About how easy it would be to slit his throat in his sleep if I wanted to.
But that wasn't the plan. Not yet.