Scorned Obsession (Scorned Fate)

“She can stay here,” Dad told Sandro.

Sandro paused on his way to the door and stared at me, his face expressionless and his eyes flat. It was hard to read him when he consciously masked his emotions.

“It’s up to you,” he said.

Meanwhile, Nico and Matteo had already exited the side door with Trevor, and I was glad they weren’t piling up on Sandro.

“Are you crazy? Our family needs us.”

Dad was about to say something, but I glared at him. “I’m going with Sandro. Please don’t interfere.”

“Bianca…” Dad’s eyes were tortured, but he had to let me support my husband.

“If you’re coming, we have to go.” Sandro pushed open the front door of the café and held it open for me. I hugged Dad and Mom and walked through the door without looking back. I had to be decisive.

The Expedition was already waiting for us. Sticks slid into the driver’s seat while Arnie rode shotgun. Sandro and I were in the back seat.

“Cops just arrived at the site,” Arnie informed us with a phone to his ear.

“Who’s on the phone?” I asked.

“Al. He’s calling on Griselda’s phone,” he replied.

“Wasn’t he guarding them?”

“Yes. He’s also hurt, and his phone was smashed. That’s why he’s using Griselda’s phone.”

“Is Griselda okay?” I asked.

Sandro stiffened beside me. I noticed he was quiet throughout my exchange with Arnie.

“Don’t know. It’s chaos right now. The cops are inside.” Arnie ended the call. “We need to get there.”

“Griselda called me and I didn’t answer,” Sandro finally said, voice hoarse.

Arnie looked back. “You didn’t know. It was Al who was calling you. There’s a lotta confusion about what happened.”

I squeezed my husband’s hand. Sandro wasn’t one for empty platitudes. The guilt would be there and we could talk about this later. As much as Griselda and I didn’t get along, I hoped she was okay. Even if only for Sandro’s sake.

Sandro’s phone rang, and from what I could tell, it was Tommy.

When we arrived, the police had already yellow-taped the area around Raffa’s house. Emergency vehicles crowded the streets and police herded spectators.

“Dammit,” Sandro muttered.

The last thing organized crime wanted was public scrutiny and police attention, but an event of this magnitude, happening in a popular Brooklyn neighborhood, was impossible to keep on the down-low.

“Stay in the car,” he told me. “Sticks, stay with her.”

The Expedition parked at the edge of where the yellow tape started and Sandro stepped out.

I felt Sticks’s frustration.

“Miller is guarding Griselda, right?”

“Yes,” he said brusquely. “He and Al are on Griselda. She said Gian is acting unhinged around her.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because Gian was expecting Sandro to fail. He was expecting to pick up the pieces, but Sandro is turning the organization around. Gian is pissed about it.”

“He’s mad at Griselda for thwarting his deal with the Philly mob because she faked being pregnant with Sandro’s baby?” I asked.

“That’s the gist of it.”

He checked his phone. “Miller isn’t answering.”

“You think…”

“Fuck this,” Sticks said. “You wanna check on them?”

“Yes.”

I hated waiting around and didn’t hesitate to get out. There were cops crawling around, anyway.

“Stay close,” Sticks ordered and used his massive body to shield me, keeping me on the inside of the sidewalk.

Sandro spotted us briefly, but he didn’t say anything. That was when I noticed Divina and Tommy. They were talking to someone on a gurney who was about to be loaded into an ambulance.

Oh my God, it was Griselda.

She was gripping Tommy’s hand and her brother was bent over her. Sandro was pacing behind him.

Sticks and I came up to them. “What happened?”

“Broken jaw, probably cracked ribs.” Divina sobbed. “Who would hurt a woman like this?”

“We’re going to get the fuckers, okay?” Sandro stopped pacing and growled over Tommy’s shoulder. The fury short-circuiting inside him was palpable.

“S..s…” Griselda chattered.

Despite our differences, I couldn’t bear to see her in pain. She was covered in blood. I could only imagine the carnage in there.

“I need to stabilize her,” the EMT said. “She’s going into shock.”

“Do we know where Miller is?” Sticks asked finally.

“Man, it’s a bloodbath in there,” the EMT replied and gave a shake of his head. “Jesus.”

He didn’t say anymore and continued working on Griselda, but he might as well have dropped another bomb of anxiety in our midst.

A man in a suit with a head of salt-and-pepper hair approached us. He had craggy features and his entire persona screamed hard-boiled detective.

“Mr. Scavo?” he addressed Tommy. “We would like to ask your sister questions.”

“She’s got a broken jaw, man,” the EMT snapped. “We gotta get her to the hospital.”

Griselda made a distressed sound and whatever energy she had, she lifted her arm and reached for Sandro. Sandro came forward and gripped her hand in his. “I can’t come with you, Griselda. I need to take care of this, but I will come to you once I’m done.”

An involuntary sob racked her chest, and tears spilled from her cheeks.

Tommy turned to his wife. “Divina, go with her.”

She was hesitant and her eyes pleaded with Tommy, communicating that the last thing she wanted was to get in an ambulance. Did she have a phobia of them, or maybe she didn’t want to leave Tommy given her distress not too long ago when Al was shot.

The last thing the EMT needed was to worry about her, too.

“I’ll go,” I said.

Sandro’s face was still a blank mask, but I could see the fury simmering behind his eyes. At the audacity of the people who did this. “You sure?”

I took Griselda’s hand from Sandro’s and told him, “Do whatever you need to do and find the fuckers who did this.”

The detective shot Tommy a meaningful look. “We need to talk.”

A slight relief swept through me. Of course, this was in the Brooklyn area controlled by the Rossis, which meant they controlled the cops.

“Sticks. On Bianca.” Sandro turned to Arnie. “Call our men and have them guard the hospital.”

“She will have two police escorts,” the detective said. “I had to take Al into custody.”

Tommy and the cop exchanged a look again.

The EMT and his partner loaded the gurney into the ambulance.

Before I climbed in, Sandro gripped my arm. “Thanks for doing this.”

What was left unsaid was…despite my feelings about Griselda.

I had a role to fulfill as Sandro’s wife.

“She’s family,” I told him. “Take care of the men. I’ll take care of Griselda.”

Sandro

I watched the ambulance drive away, along with two police escorts. I knew those cops. They were on our payroll. Sticks and Arnie followed in the Expedition.

Still, I was unsettled not having Bianca in my sights during a powder keg situation, but I was facing the biggest challenge as the Rossi boss. Our enemies wanted to expose the weakness in our ranks. At how easy it was to hit us. But how, exactly? Raffa had top-notch security around his house. He’d been living in it for decades through all the mob wars between the Five Families.

No one could get in unless someone let them in.

Did Gian cut a deal with the Manhattan Albanians and Raffa told him no? He got pissed and shot Raffa? It didn’t make sense to me. Gian rarely did his own dirty work. I tried to recall the crew under him. One soldier stood out who had a trigger-happy finger.

One shot was all it would take to start a gunfight.

I recalled the time Raffa dared me to end his miserable life. Did he goad Gian or one of his men to shoot him?

The CSI and medical examiner vans arrived.

I dragged a hand down my face and exhaled a gust of frustration. A painstakingly long evening loomed before us with the number of bodies inside. When we first arrived, we were told that seven people were dead. Al had confirmed Uncle Raffa and Gian. He said he was on the second floor when he heard the one and only gunshot and Griselda started screaming. He thought for sure Gian had shot Uncle Raffa because they were in a heated argument before they locked themselves in the study. A meeting I knew about because Gian was bitching again about not being boss. Al said he was shot running down the stairs. He fell down the rest of the steps and lost consciousness. He woke up to a sobbing Griselda and a bullet-riddled house.

“You okay?” I asked Tommy after he talked to the detective. Since Tommy had been dealing with the police on behalf of the Rossis since Frankie’s reign, I let him handle our connections in law enforcement.

“No, man.” He dug the heel of his hand into an eye. “I can’t believe this shit.” We were standing side by side, but facing opposite directions. “This has to be the Albanians. We shouldn’t have left any of those fuckers alive.”

“And we will get them if they did this. But how did they get in?” I felt for Tommy. I really did. He must’ve been feeling like he let his sister down. Just when things were looking up, we were hit again. What Albanian nest did we miss? I was sure we sent all of Doku’s loyalists running. “We need the surveillance in the house. Who has access to it?”

“Gian, Al, and Griselda,” Tommy answered.

One of our capos approached us. “I’ve got my men heading to King’s County hospital.”

“Do Sticks and Arnie know?”

“Yes, Bianca informed them.”

My wife had her shit together more than anyone here, stepping up while I made sure Tommy didn’t go off the deep end. His uncle Al was in police custody and hopefully that would only be for show. This shit needed to be contained in Brooklyn.

“Sticks is asking after Miller,” another soldier said.

“They’re not bringing the bodies out yet.” My chest constricted at the thought. Sticks and Miller were like brothers. I was telling myself that I assigned him to Griselda because he was club security, but the truth was I still didn’t want him around Bianca. “It’s going to take a while.” I sighed. “I’ll respond to him.” My phone just buzzed with the same question from Arnie, who I was certain was trying to keep Sticks calm. And now I was worried about Bianca because old reliable Sticks was getting rattled too.

I caught sight of Nico and Trevor making their way through the crowd. When Bianca’s dad asked his daughter to stay with the De Luccis, I almost gave in. But Bianca wanted to do her part for our organization. I couldn’t keep her behind the De Luccis safety net because that would mean I didn’t trust her enough to handle herself.

But I wouldn’t reject their help. This wasn’t a competition for Bianca’s affection.

My phone buzzed again. The Toronto Albanian fixer.

I answered the call. “You played me.”

“I didn’t,” the fixer answered.

I moved out of earshot of everyone. “Really? You told us we got every one of Doku’s loyalists.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting we double-crossed you.”

“The evidence is proving otherwise.”

“I don’t have all the evidence, but I would look into your man, Crowe Miller .”

Dread knotted in my gut, and acid churned up my throat. “You’re reaching.”

“That’s the best lead I have.”

I ended the call and walked toward the detective Tommy was talking to.

“We need to go in there and identify the bodies.”

The detective glowered at me with a trace of incredulity. “That’s not gonna happen. Look around you for Chrissakes. Everyone’s on their damned phone, filming this circus. I can’t risk jeopardizing the investigation. Who are we looking for?”

“Detective.” A uniform rushed towards us. “The ambulance got hit.”

That knot of dread twisted into fear and fury. The familiar mist of red whenever Bianca was in danger crowded my mind and bled into my eyes.

“What?” the detective and Tommy growled.

“Our officers are down and…”

“My wife.” But my years as an assassin taught me restraint. Otherwise, I would have grabbed the cop by the collar and gotten thrown into jail for assault. Still, I crowded him, close enough that I was in his face. “My wife was in that ambulance.”

“Jesus Christ, Rossi.” The detective shoved me aside. “Are you lookin’ to get arrested? Cool it, huh?”

Nico and Trevor appeared by our side. I pivoted away from the cops and tried to call Bianca, but it went to voicemail. I checked her proximity dot, and it wasn’t pinging. Chills crawled all over my skin and my pulse pounded in my ears.

“The ambulance got hit,” Nico said.

“I know,” I clipped. “Bianca’s not answering.”

The detective exhaled heavily. “Goddammit. I should throw every single one of you into jail for your own goddamn sake.”

“Then let’s go,” Nico snapped. “Or I’m gonna leave your ass here.”

“You guys can’t interfere,” the detective yelled after us, but he had his own shit to handle as other uniforms vied for his attention.

“Try to stop us,” I muttered. I called Sticks. Nothing. “Fuck!”

A blacked-out Nissan Armada was waiting for us. I didn’t realize Tommy was following me until he spoke, “What do you want me to do?”

“Identify the dead.” I got into the SUV.

“Griselda…” he choked out.

But my thoughts were only focused on Bianca. “I’ll call you when I have news.”

I shut the door and leaned against the headrest. My temples were throbbing, probably from all the jaw clenching and teeth grinding I’d been doing. I inhaled a couple of calming breaths before I said, “Any luck trying to get through to Bianca?”

“No,” Nico answered. “Matteo is putting our men on standby. Do we know who would hit the ambulance? Albanians⁠—”

“My Toronto contact is pointing to Crowe Miller.”

“Miller?” Trevor spoke up. “Huh…”

“That huh better mean something.” I went through my contact list again until someone fucking answered.

“I did a background check,” Trevor said.

“I’d expect you to.”

“It passed from what I could tell, but something seems cagey about him.”

I replayed every interaction with the man. When the club started rebuilding, he’d become more of Griselda’s security than Bianca’s. But Sticks trusted him, and that was why I allowed Miller to guard Bianca sometimes.

I continued trying to call Bianca, Sticks, and Arnie, but no one was answering. But it wasn’t long before I had my answers. And the worst scenario greeted our eyes.

An overturned ambulance.

Two cop cars were facing the wrong direction of traffic with bodies of the cops sprawled on the ground.

The Expedition Sticks was driving was riddled with bullets and the front tire was flat. Bulletproof glass could only withstand so much. Jesus. Whoever did this had an arsenal.

Nico and I ran toward the ambulance. My mind went through a reel of things I should have done with Bianca. Should I have left her with the De Luccis? Should I have forced her to divorce me?

Should. Should. Should.

I got to the ambulance first and ripped open the door. Blood splatter was everywhere. Sirens howled in the distance. The EMT at the scene was slumped over, probably dead.

No Griselda. No Bianca. But there was too much blood.

My heart pounded as my lungs pumped out more ragged breaths. “She’s not here.”

My body sagged against the vehicle, suddenly sucked of strength, but my mind vomited all possibilities. “She’s not here,” I repeated.

Relief.

No.

Anger.

No.

But someone was going to die.

My eyes zeroed in on the skid marks that could have belonged to their attackers.

“We need to leave,” Trevor said. “Cops are two minutes out.” The sirens were getting closer. “I got Sticks and Arnie in the back of the Nissan.”

“He’s right,” Nico, who’d been a quiet ball of tension beside me, finally said, “let’s get out of here.”

We regrouped in one of our Harlem warehouses. Arnie and Sticks were being treated for gunshot wounds. I called Sloane because the mob doc was on duty in the ER and couldn’t get away immediately. I trusted her more anyway.

But we had confirmation that the mastermind was Crowe Miller.

Sticks had a hole through his side and a concussion. He hit his head on the pavement when he got shot. “I can’t believe it, brother. Even if he had a mask on, I could tell it was Miller leading the bunch of men who attacked us.”

“Who was with him? Recognize anyone?” I asked.

“All were wearing masks,” Arnie gritted as Sloane extracted bullet fragments from his upper shoulder. “But I heard some of them shout at each other. Albanians, boss.”

Nico was pacing behind us like a jungle cat, casting us glares every few seconds as he brooded.

Trevor had fired up his laptop and was digging into more information about Miller.

Tommy and Divina arrived with a bunch of our soldiers. “They’re transferring the bodies to the morgue.” Tommy looked at me. “No Miller.”

“Is that even a question here?” Nico snapped.

“What’s De Lucci doing here?” Tommy moved toward him.

“You want to question why I’m here?” Nico headed him off. “My sister is fucking missing.”

“So is mine,” Tommy snarled.

And my wife is missing, I wanted to yell at them, but this wasn’t a pissing contest, and someone—me—needed to keep his head in the game and make sure no one went off half-cocked resulting in a bunch of us getting arrested. Because if that happened, I was really going to lose my shit.

“Now is not the time.” I stepped in between them and addressed Tommy. “We have seven dead. One in police custody. And these two are injured.” I nodded at Arnie and Sticks. “Trevor is the best I know at gathering intel.” I didn’t need to add that Trevor had access to government databases the mob couldn’t touch. “We need to find out Miller’s true identity.”

“You think he’s not this Crowe Miller?” Sticks asked. “We did his background check and he’s kosher⁠—”

“There’s something I’m looking into,” Trevor interrupted brusquely.

My phone went off with an unknown number.

My breath snagged as I answered, “Rossi.”

“Calling you back with a video call.” The line went dead and rang again. I gripped my phone so hard it was a wonder it didn’t shatter in my hand.

Miller’s face filled the screen. It was as if a snake had shed its skin and I could see its malevolent, serpentine stare.

“Hi, boss.”

“Where’s my wife?” I shouted, keeping my head on straight be damned.

“Oh, she’s taking a dip.” He turned the phone away from him.

The roar started in my head. Loud and so full of rage, it pressed against my eyes. If I thought I was living in a nightmare, it was only the beginning. Life and death meant nothing to me. I chose life only because of Bianca. The world would cease to exist if she wasn’t in it. Because if she wasn’t in it, I would take myself out. I wouldn’t live in a world without my Sunlight.

“Bianca…” I said her name with ragged anguish.

She was in a swimming pool with her wrists cuffed above her head. The water was at her neck level, but there was a commercial hose gushing water into the pool.

My eyes blinked.

I couldn’t even speak after I choked her name. It took all my strength to remain upright and not crumble in front of the fucker.

“You fucking asshole,” I snarled. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to end your miserable life.”

The phone switched back to Miller. “I’m fond of Bianca, but unfortunately, she was too precious not to use for my ultimate payback.”

“For what? Tell me what for? Do you want money? I can give you money.”

He laughed again. “I have enough. Why don’t you ask Divina?”

My eyes whipped around, and Divina shook her head and whispered, “I was going to tell you.”

Did Divina betray the family too? My head swam with fucked-up thoughts. Nothing made sense, except one: “Exchange me for Bianca. It’s me you hate. Take me. Don’t hurt her. Whatever I did to you, she doesn’t deserve this. Please. I’m begging you. Take me instead and do what you want.”

“The great Alessandro Rossi is begging?”

“I won’t fight you. Do whatever you want with me. Set me on fire. Mutilate me. Dismember me. Anything. Just…spare her…”

“Well, see, I would love to see you beg on your knees and crawl over hot coals before I tear you apart. But you’ll just die in a few days.” His smile was cruel. “But seeing your loved one die before your eyes and you’re helpless to stop it? That image will torment you for the rest of your life.”

“Don’t do this!” I roared those three words and could feel my neck muscles seizing. My hands wanted to reach into the phone and strangle the life out of that miserable fucker.

“Ask him why,” Trevor said.

“Oh, why?” Miller asked, hearing his question. “Are you trying to find out my motive, Rossi? Isn’t drowning one of your favorite methods as a hit man?” He made a funny face. “Oh, wait, you murdered too many people that way to remember.”

My hearing went in and out of focus like a faulty radio. Rage like I’d never experienced locked every sinew of muscle because Miller was right. Once I’d established my mark deserved to die, they ceased to exist to me as a person. I erased most of them from my memory and they became a number.

I remembered some of them. Like the arms dealer I killed the night I crashed into the frat house, but that was largely because of Bianca. Miller would forever be etched in my mind as someone I couldn’t wait to rip apart. Once I got my hands on him, his death wouldn’t be easy. Because the only person I loved was being tortured with drowning. It had become my worst fucking torture. More than the time I was strung up in a Russian prison, my back shredded with a whip. No torment could compare to this…watching Bianca fight for her life.

Nico had been shouting for a while, but my men had held him down.

The cogs in my brain started turning. If it was one of my jobs…How long ago? Did he team up with Doku loyalists? That meant he knew about my Doku kill.

“This is about revenge.”

“I’ll let you stew on that. Meanwhile, I’ll text you the website where you can watch your wife drown. Enjoy your life.”

The screen went blank.

“Miller,” I gritted. A text message came and there was a link.

My thumb hovered over it.

Could I bear to watch Bianca die?