{FRANCESCO}
I stood in front of the wall-to-ceiling window, my hands behind me, staring out through the glass, watching the sun set over Manhattan.
I should have been celebrating, the first part of my plan having succeeded. But the mix of emotions I felt put me on edge.
The sun was bloody and cast a dark ember blanket on the whole of Manhattan, a stark reminiscence of the recently spilled blood.
I exhaled slowly and looked down at my hand and at the itching skin of my healing knuckles which were still a light rouge colour. A faint smile appeared on my lips suddenly.
At least, for all it mattered, one good thing happened today. That meant one piece of shit less in this goddamn fucked up world.
The door behind me opened suddenly and Julio walked in briskly, seething with rage and another expression that was not so easily discernible.
Was it anxiety? I couldn't tell.
"The news is now every where," he said.
"What news?" I asked just for the sake of asking.
"Are you kidding?" Julio demanded through gritted teeth, shooting me an incredulous glare. "The news about the cops discovering Bernoulli's body."
I exhaled and rubbed my temple with two fingers, suddenly feeling the incoming headache.
"I bet that old fucker is already on his way here," Julio fumed, beside himself with anger and frustration.
I cast a glance at my reddish knuckles again and faced Julio.
"How much do you think he knows?"
Julio's palms slid over his face slowly and he let out a groan through them as he slipped into a couch. "He knows that Bernoulli was last seen in the wedding."
"How did he know that?" I asked.
"Apparently, Bernoulli had told one of his sentinels that he had his eyes on Stephanie. The sentinel saw him follow her into the garden. And a few others saw you walk out with her."
I groaned and ran my fingers over my face.
But Julio was not done.
"This won't be good, Francesco, especially when you announce your engagement."
I nodded in agreement and walked into the lounge. I chose an armchair beside the sofa.
"Well, Rocco won't be so stupid to spill accusations without proof."
"As I said, he's on his way here," Julio said. "And as for spilling accusations, he would most likely have a backup here."
I tipped an eyebrow and cbuckled. "You mean Vinci."
Julio nodded. "Your uncle might see it as an opportunity. He'd be the one to stop the war between the families."
"By throwing me to the sharks?" I asked, my face turning grim.
"That would be a way to get rid of you without having to get his hands dirty."
I clenched my teeth. "I still suspect Vinci's the one behind the attacks on our clubs. It's usually his style to jeopardize my business without taking a direct hit."
"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he was even the one behind Bernoulli's murder. Then he would have tipped the police and pointed out where the body was...and then spoke to Rocco about it."
I was willing to agree but before I could voice out my opinion, the phone on the desk rang. I muttered a curse before standing up to pick up the phone and turn on the speaker.
"Rocco Bernini's here to see you, sir," Vera, my receptionist said.
I exchanged looks with Julio. We both knew this was unavoidable.
"Send him upstairs," I instructed.
"Right away, sir."
I dropped the phone on the table and rubbed my temples. "Call Ricci and Guilio. But tell them to stay outside."
Julio looked at me incredulously, the look you gave someone who was suggesting something insane. "Are you crazy? There's no way Vinci is out there alone. Wouldn't it be better to–"
"I'll deal with him on my own," I said. "Leave the boys outside. I cannot make him think we're enemies. Guards in my office will only assure him of his suspicions."
"That's a very risky move," Julio said, working his jaw.
"And it's the only way to handle it," I said calmly, a faint smile curving my lips.
He held my stare for a minute then nodded and walked out. "I'll join Guilio and Ricci outside, just in case–"
I returned to my desk after he was gone and I sat down in my chair, caressing my elbow in deep thought.
I had known that beating the hell out of Bernoulli Bernini would have its consequences. I had debated whether I should leave him in some dark alley to bleed out. But I had enough enemies already. Antagonizing the entire Bernini family would only add more to the numbers.
So I had....
Footsteps echoed through the corridor–four people. I had expected that much. The doors slid open and Vinci Bernini strode into my office, flanked by three sentinels. He stood there for a while, dragging his fingers through his dark brown hair. He clenched his teeth, his face pale.
I rose from my seat and bowed my head an inch. "My condolences."
He walked closer, his hands fisted as he halted in front of my table.
"I heard you sent him to that river," he hissed.
Alright. An outright accusation.
So it was straight to the point then.
I scanned the three guards who had taken a wide stance behind him. I knew they left their guns outside–standard procedure–but no doubt each had at least a shiv or a dagger hidden somewhere.
"You heard wrong," I said and a wide smile stretched my lips as I spread the lapels of my suit, proving I was unarmed. "I'm willing to have a conversation and I promise you I'll be honest. But your men have to leave."
Vinci worked his jaw, his fists still clenched. A few heartbeats passed, then he motioned at his guards with his chin. Without a word, the three men turned around and walked out.
One problem solved. I could have breathed a sigh of relief.
"You want a drink?" I asked Vinci, pointing over my shoulder with my thumb at the bar behind me. "I need one."
He told me with a tight nod that he needed one too. He watched me pull out a bottle, pop it and fill the glasses. I set them on a coffee table and sat on an armchair.
Finally, he walked to the table, picked up his glass and sat on the sofa opposite me.
"I wanted to kill your son," I admitted bluntly and watched him tense, his fingers curling around the glass as if to crush it. I left him to boil inside, savoring every moment of it as I took a sip from my glass. Then I went on.
"I made him bleed...quite severely. I broke his nose and maybe a rib or two, but he was very much alive when my boys dropped him off in front of your residence."
"How do I know you're not lying?" he strained through his teeth.
I leaned into my seat lazily, before I reached for my glass. "Start by checking the surveillance. North Gate, Monday, around two in the morning."
Vinci stared at me suspiciously for a while. "Even if you didn't kill him, your actions led to his death. I demand an explanation. You owe me–"
"I owe you nothing!" I interjected. "Bernoulli touched what belonged to me and he paid for it."
"You mean that McMahon bitch?" Vinci scoffed. "I heard she was willing to spread her legs for just about anyone as long as the price to pay for it was right."
It was my time to boil.
I leaned forward and dragged my finger over the silver edge of the coffee table until I heard a distinct click.
"Careful, Vinci Bernini," I strained through clenched teeth. "I'm lenient because of your loss. But insult my fiancee one more time and you'll learn what it looks like when I run out of my patience."
"My apologies," he said, bowing his head in a purely mocking gesture. "I should have known that your taste in women is not as...refined as ours."
"Ours?" I echoed.
Vinci huffed out a mocking laugh and leaned in the sofa. "You're only half Italian. You're no pure blood; you're a mongrel among us."
"So you're suggesting that Giacomo's heir is a mongrel?" I queried, keeping my voice as even as possible even as I traced the surface under the table with my fingers.
"I hope you didn't find it insulting," Vinci chuckled. "I'm only stating the facts."
My fingers reached the leather hilt and curled around it. Vinci was too busy swigging tequila, he didn't know how close I was to sending his head flying and ending his life.
Unfortunately, I was supposed to dissolve this conflict, not turn it to an open war. A part of me desperately wanted him to give me a reason to...
"I take it you're no longer so angry," I said.
He shrugged. "The tequila did a good job. But I still demand compensation for beating up my boy."
I clenched my teeth and drew another breath. "I told you, Vinci. Your son was sniffing, Bernoulli touched what wasn't his. I have every right to do what I did and even more."
"He was a Bernini!" Vinci growled. "The bitch should be grateful he even picked her–"
My wrist moved on its own.
One second Vinci was spitting venom and the next he was deathly pale as my knife drive into the sofa, barely an inch away from his face. His throat bobbed nervously and his gaze drifted slowly down to his crotch where a wet patch was beginning to form on his pants.
I rose from my seat and leaned towards him, struggling to ignore the reek of his urine.
He had just cost me a sofa.
"See?" I said. "I nearly lost my patience. If you still don't understand the situation, just bear in mind that I was generous enough to spare your life." I smiled and patted his pale cheek. "I might even invite you to the wedding. You and your family will show up and bow before my Stephanie. Only then will this insult be forgiven."
"How dare you?" he hissed.
"If you won't do it, then I'll only be forced to make you bury your remaining sons. And that's the last thing your wife will see before I make her a widow."
"How dare you?" he snarled. "This...this means war!"
"It's a conflict you started," I said nonchalantly. "You started this conflict running your mouth insulting my wife in my territory. If this war begins, it will be on you. And I promise it won't be a war you can win."
He jerked to his feet and tossed the half-empty glass of whiskey to the table. "I appreciate your...kindness. The Bernini...will show up at your wedding."
"I'm glad to hear it," I said with a nonchalant smile, enjoying watching him rattle with rage.
He pulled the lapels of his jacket together, hiding the shameful patch on his crotch as he strode towards the door. His sentinels surrounded him as soon as the door was open and he stepped out, and his Italian expletives and curses echoed through the hall as he headed for the elevator, escorted by his guards.
A moment later, they were gone and Julio appeared inside my office.
"Should I be worried?" he asked, his hawk eyes noticing the sofa with the knife sticking out of it.
"Not if Vinci's smart," I replied.
"And if he's not?"
"Then the war is coming and Stephanie will be one of the Bernini's first targets."