Page 99 of Of Oaths and Secrets

Rafaele

Something feels wrong. It’s not just the nagging anxiety of being away—it’s deeper, heavier, a gnawing sensation in my gut that I can’t shake.

I glance at my phone again, checking for the hundredth time. Still nothing. The last message Nora sent was over three hours ago, right after her oral exam. She promised she’d message me once lunch was done, but the silence since has been deafening.

I sent Paolo to check on her over an hour ago, unable to leave this damned meeting. As capo, my absence would raise questions I can’t afford right now. Nora would be angry at me if I went just because I had a bad feeling. If she’s angry with me because I sent Paolo, when I get home, I’ll find a way to make it up to her. A few well-placed kisses and a couple of orgasms should do the trick.

“Someone needs to have a word with the Hispanics,” one of the dons says, breaking into my thoughts.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair, trying to focus on the endless agenda. The annual meeting of the five families isn’t something I can skip. Security demands we only meet once a year, and we have to cram everything into one long, excruciating day.

“I don’t think the Hispanics are a big deal,” I can’t help but interject.

Don Bonanno—my father’s old rival and a thorn in my side—smirks at me. “No offense, Rafaele, but you’re new to this. You don’t know how we deal with things yet. Besides, I hear the Hispanics caused quite a stir at one of your clubs.”

I keep my expression neutral, unwilling to let him see how little I care for his opinion. “I’m not sure who your sources are, Carlo, but they must share your penchant for exaggeration. It was a low-level dealer—stupid and sloppy—and he ended up dead. Hardly a crisis.” I fold my hands together, letting a small, calculated smile touch my lips. “Besides, we all know the Hispanics are the favorite target of the local police. Let them take the heat. We don’t deal the same product or cater to the same clientele. Unless…” My smile sharpens. “You’re breaking the rules and selling to kids.”

The room shifts, a few heads turning toward Bonanno. He narrows his eyes but says nothing, and I take quiet satisfaction in the tension spreading around the table.

Before anyone else can speak, my phone vibrates against the table. I glance down and see Paolo’s name flash across the screen, along with a single word that sends a chill down my spine:

911

I stand abruptly, ignoring the startled stares of the other dons. “Gentlemen, I’ll see you all later,” I say, keeping my voice calm despite the pounding in my chest.

“What’s the rush, Lucchese?” Bonanno sneers, his tone dripping with mockery. “You can’t just leave.”

I glance at my watch, letting a faint smirk tug at my lips. “Watch me,” I say coolly. “We’ve been at this for over six hours,and the remaining points on the agenda don’t even concern my part of the city. But, Bonanno…” I pause, locking eyes with him, “if you find yourself struggling to manage your business without my expertise, feel free to give me a call. I’d be happy to help you clean up your mess.”

The murmurs around the table barely register as I turn on my heel, already pushing through the warehouse doors. My phone is in my hand before I’m even outside, and I dial Paolo with a trembling urgency.

He picks up immediately, his voice taut and clipped. “Rafaele, you need to get home. Now.”

“What happened?” My words are sharp and ice-cold, but inside, I’m already unraveling.

“It’s Lucia—she’s here, and she’s hurt. Bad. And Nora…” His voice hitches. “She’s gone.”

Gone. The word detonates in my mind, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake. My grip tightens on the phone, the plastic creaking under the pressure. “What do you mean gone?” I snarl, already storming toward my car.

“She’s been taken, Rafaele. We don’t know by who yet, but?—”

I cut him off, slamming the car door behind me. “I’m on my way.” My voice is lethal, every syllable carrying the promise of devastation.

The tires screech as I pull out of the lot, the roar of the engine matching the storm building inside me. Every second feels like an eternity, my thoughts a violent spiral of fear and fury.

Paolo’s voice echoes in my ear as I speed through the streets. “Lucia managed to fight back, but they overpowered her. She’s alive, but barely. Rafaele…” He hesitates, his voice lowering. “You need to prepare yourself. They planned this. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”

I don’t reply. I can’t. My mind is locked on one thought: Nora.

When I finally screech to a halt in front of the house, Paolo is already there, waiting on the steps. His face is grim, his knuckles bloodied. Behind him, Lucia sits slumped on a bench, her face battered, her arm cradled protectively against her chest.

I don’t bother closing the car door. My steps are quick and heavy, each one fueled by pure adrenaline. “Lucia,” I growl, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Where is Nora? Where is my wife?”

She starts to sob. “I’m so sorry, Rafa. I couldn’t protect her. I— They waited for us. The driver…” She sniffles and starts crying more.

I tighten my fist. I want to shake her; I need her to talk. I throw Paolo a helpless look—my kind of violence will not help, and it seems that the gentleness I have in me is just for my wife. The wife, who is now missing.

Paolo sits on the other side of her and pulls her toward him. “She told me that it was an ambush. They were waiting for them at the restaurant.”

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