Page 34 of King of Omen

‘Still, this Omertà cleansing has escalated into all-out conflict; we need to strike back before they think we’re weak as shit,’ Valerio grunted.

‘Found out anything more?’ I asked him.

‘It was either Carlo and Ricco Abrazzio, or both who called the hit. According to whispers on the ground, they didn’t want you dead, just scared so you’d reconsider walking away.’

‘Fuck the pair of them in particular,’ I growled. ‘We could go after their family. But do we want to sink our resources into fighting a gang war? Or can we, remaining true to the Omertà code, stop our clandestine funding of his fugitive life? It’ll flush him out of hiding and put him in jeopardy. We can only hope it also leads to his capture, which might provide closure for us.’

My brothers took a moment to mull over my idea.

‘I vote the latter,’ Alessio said. ‘Let’s shut down our taps to them.’

I jerked my chin to my brothers on screen. ‘Should anyone still come after us, perhaps it’s worthwhile calling in a few favours to cover our asses if required. Regardless, if the Abrazzios come for us again, they will pay with blood, no less.’

A week later, after my doctor’s clearance, I left Naples.

Throughout the entire flight back to Australia, I was aching, sleepless and cranky as shit.

As we winged over Asia in a private plane, I tried to stay as still as possible in my chair.

I spent most of it half up in my expansive seat, shifting, twisting, unable to find a comfortable position for my bandaged flank and shoulder.

Mauri, who sat across from me, lifted a brow. ‘Do you need a pillow, relaxant, or meds?’

I shook my head and sucked my teeth, irritated at the situation. ‘I’ll survive.’

He gave me a sceptical, narrowed glance, unwavering as he monitored my every move with a vigilant eye.

When I did discover a spot to recline in without too much pain, my mind wouldn’t rest.

So I used my free, healthy hand to root around my jacket pocket for the trio of precious objects that had saved my ass from sure death.

I discarded the lighter and cigar case, pulled the envelope to my nose, and breathed in.

Mia’s letter had become my omen, a symbol of beckoning hope, a delicate yet potent tool of destiny.

The scent of her perfume calmed me, soothing me almost to sleep.

Letting out a heavy sigh, the tension eased from my body, and the sharp pain in my chest dulled somewhat as I finally let go, the events of Napoli seeming a distant nightmare.

I traced the edges of the envelope with my fingertips, over the slight singe where the bullet had grazed it.

Mia’s face flashed through my mind, her eyes brimming with affection and understanding. It was sheer madness that the memory of her was the only thing calming the storm raging inside me, this churning, relentless need for escape.

Caught between wakefulness and dreams, her name echoed through my thoughts like a whispered promise. Even as her face floated before my closed eyes, framed by her gleaming auburn hair and her lilac eyes filled with the warmth and softness I fuckin’ needed right now.

Mauri’s voice broke through my musing. ‘Boss, we’ll be landing soon.’

I sensed the plane descending and sat up to witness Sydney waking to a fresh dawn.

The city spread out beneath us, a patchwork of lights fading as the sun peeked over the horizon. Casting a warm glow over the urban landscape, from the stunning Harbour Bridge and Opera House to the glittering tapestry of treelined avenues and parks.

The metropolis appeared peaceful up here; best of all, it was like coming home, which was strange given that I’d hardly spent time in Australia.

What made it home was the promise of a new future and perhaps, if the stars aligned, the love of a good woman, one woman in particular. Fuck, I deserved it.

The wheels touched down on the tarmac, and we taxied to a stop. The hum of the engines faded into silence as our attendants prepared us to disembark.

I gathered my strength and pushed myself up from the plush chair, the lingering ache in my chest protesting the movement.

---