Çhapter 1
Sins That Follow You Home
Salvatore's POV
"Hit him again."
The sound of bone against knuckle echoed through the room. Raffy cried out, folding in on himself, blood dripping onto the concrete floor.
I stepped closer, walking slow, and every sound I made deliberate.
"Where is my money?"
Raffy shook his head violently. "I swear, Salvatore, I don't have it. I don't."
I crouched in front of him, meeting his eyes. "You and Jimmy were given two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. You don't misplace that kind of money."
His breathing hitched. His gaze flicked, just once, toward the door.
That was when I knew.
I stood. "Say his name."
Raffy swallowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I nodded to my men. Another blow landed, harder this time.
Raffy screamed. "Okay! Okay!"
I leaned in. "Say. His. Name."
Tears streamed down his face. "Domenico."
Enzo Domenico.
I straightened slowly, fury tightening in my chest. "You took my money to him."
"He promised us…" Raffy choked. "He said you were finished. That Sicily was changing. That I'd be protected."
I laughed, sharp and humorless. "Protected by a man who poisons his own streets."
Raffy sobbed. "Jimmy went to meet his people. I swear, Salvatore, I didn't know it would go this far."
I pulled out my knife, not rushing, letting him see it.
"You didn't steal from me," I said quietly. "You sold me."
I checked my watch.
7:00 p.m.
Too late already.
"Boss," Andrew said carefully, "we have to leave. The dinner.."
I sheathed the knife.
I looked at Raffy one last time. "You chose the wrong family."
I turned to my men. "Finish it."
I did not stay to hear the shot.
However, I heard the gunshots and I walked away, my men following me.
.
We drove to the hotel, it was my brother's pre wedding dinner and I had to be there.
We got out of the cars and my most trusted bodyguard Andrew followed me in.
The rest of my men waited outside.
I entered the ballroom.
"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen." My mother was saying as I reached the entrance.
She was radiant, dressed in a deep emerald gown, her dark hair pinned up elegantly. She caught sight of me at the entrance and her smile widened instantly.
"You came, Salvi."
Of course I came. She didn't know what I'd been doing ten minutes earlier. She didn't need to.
She pulled me forward gently. "This is my son, Salvatore." She said, as she introduced me.
I looked around at her friends, some of them I already knew, others I didn't.
I just wanted this to be over.
"I am Salvatore, it's an honor to meet you all." I said to the guests and took a seat next to my mother.
A lie, but a polite one.
I took my sit at the table, beside my mother.
My mother placed her hand gently over mine. "Relax, tesoro. Tonight is family."
My mother had this aura about her that was peaceful. She was a good woman.
I always tried my best to be the best son I could be to her, despite my line of work.
The rest of the guests started taking their seats at the large, beautifully decorated dining table.
I looked to my right and saw my brother Alessandro with his fiancée, Sofia.
He was the youngest, next to me.
We looked very much alike.
My father was not here, he died when I was 15 years old.
He was killed by a rival mafia boss.
I took over the business when I turned 18.
We were soon served our first course.
"Where is Francesca?" I asked my mother.
My mother took a sip of her wine, her eyes searching the room.
"I'm not sure, maybe she's running late." She replied, and then turned to Alessandroo and his fiancée. "Sofia, how was your trip to Spain?"
The conversation continued as I sipped on my champagne. I saw my mother look at her wristwatch and back at the entrance.
My sister was late. She always did this, and my mother hated it. I could see that she was getting worried.
I sighed in irritation. Where the hell was she?
I was about to excuse myself to call her when the doors of the ballroom opened, and in walked Francesca. My mother stood up abruptly, her hands on her hips. "Francesca, where have you been?"
My sister was dressed in a white dress and she was stunning.
Francesca gave a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I'm late. I was working on a project and I lost track of time." She apologized and walked towards the table.
My sister was a model and an aspiring actress. She had been in some movies, but nothing big yet. She gave my brother and Sofia a hug, then greeted some of our aunts and uncles, and finally made her way to my mother and me.
My mother was not having it. She grabbed Francesca's hand and pulled her into a chair. "Sit."
I laughed, and my sister looked at me, glaring. She knew she was in trouble.
My mother turned to one of our relatives. "Mama Rosa, please pass the platter to Francesca."
"Mama, I'm not hungry." Francesca protested, but my mother was not listening to her.
"You haven't eaten all day, have you?" My mother asked, concern and anger in her voice.
"No, I haven't." Francesca replied, looking down at her lap.
My mother shook her head. "You need to eat, Francesca. You are looking rather pale, you've lost lots of weight" She said, her tone firm.
Francesca sighed and picked up her fork reluctantly. "Yes, Mama." She replied.
My mother looked at me, then at Francesca, her expression softening. She placed her hand on Francesca's cheek. "We worry about you, cara. You need to take better care of yourself." She said softly.
Francesca smiled slightly. "I know, Mama. I'm sorry."
My mother nodded, then turned to me. "Salvi, when will you get married?" She asked, and I rolled my eyes.
I was 30 years old, and this was a common topic of discussion in our family. My mother wanted me to get married as soon as possible, but I was not interested.
"Mama, please, I told you, when I find the right woman, I'll let you know." I replied.
She sighed. "You need to settle down, Salvatore. You're not getting any younger."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm only 30, Mama, I have time."
She shook her head, then turned back to Francesca. "And you, young lady, need to start thinking about your future. You can't be modeling forever." She said.
Francesca looked at me for help, but I just shrugged. I wasn't getting into this argument again.
My mother continued to talk to Francesca as I watched them, a smile on my face. They were always arguing about something, but I knew that they loved each other deeply.
The evening wore on, and the guests started to leave. My mother hugged Francesca and kissed her cheeks.
I hugged my sister goodbye and walked to my car with my men.
But something caught my eye before I could leave. Francesca had excused herself from the table more times than usual, clutching her stomach and pressing a hand to her mouth as if she might be about to faint.
She smiled at my mother's questions, waved them off, but I noticed the slight wobble in her step and the way her hand trembled when she poured herself a drink.
As I sat in my car and we drove away, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my stomach.
Francesca's words kept replaying in my head. "I'm fine, Salvatore. Stop worrying so much."
She was strong, and she could handle herself. But something inside me was telling me that something was off.
I decided I couldn't just drive away and hope it was nothing. Turning back, I told my men to follow, and we drove straight to her apartment.
I got to her apartment and I used my spare key to enter her house.
I heard someone crying in her room and I pushed the door open.
My heart sank at the sight before me.
Francesca.
My baby sister.
She was lying on her bed, her body shaking with sobs.
"Francesca? What's wrong?" I asked, my voice shaking with worry.
She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
"I… I'm pregnant, Salvatore," she said, her voice breaking.
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.
I was stunned. Francesca had always been so responsible, so careful. How could this have happened?
"Who is he?" I demanded, trying to keep my anger in check.
There was fear in her eyes, "Massimo, Domenico's son."
I hit Francesca hard on her face.
"How dare you Cesca, sleep with that vile pig!"