Page 5 of Where Wild Hearts Dance
When she’s satisfied he doesn’t have a scratch on him, the whites of her eyes take me in. “C’mere Tess…”
I walk into her arms for the second time this evening. My movements are mechanical. It’s like my limbs have shifted into autopilot. My brain has shut down but my body is still going through the motions.
Mrs. Falconi sobs into Fed’s shoulder and I press my forehead into his chest. It solidifies against my skin and something shifts in the air.
His voice is low and filled with conviction. “Papa…”
“He’s okay, Federico. He’s just dealing with—” A choked breath halts her words.
“I know Uncle Mario’s dead,” Fed confirms. “We saw it happen.”
She looks up, her eyes wide. “H-how? You should have been here, in your room.”
“It doesn’t matter. What happened?”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Mario was stupid. He was so stupid…”
“Why were the Di Santos here?” There’s a bitter clip to Federico’s tone.
Mrs. Falconi falls quiet.
“Mama,” Fed’s voice is uncharacteristically deep and firm. “Tell me the truth. Why were they here?”
A long pause is filled with stuttered breaths before Mrs. Falconi responds. “Your papa is behind on the lease for the offices and the storage facility.”
Fed’s throat bobs against my hair. “Why?”
“We had a theft. One of the warehouses was broken into and half our equipment was stolen. Your papa had to buy more urgently, so he wouldn’t lose the contracts—it’s become so competitive out there. He didn’t have enough left over for the lease. He hoped they’d understand, give him some grace.”
“And did they?”
“I don’t know, Federico. Your papa… He’s cleaning up his brother’scorpse. I can’t ask him yet.”
“Why did they kill my uncle?”
Mrs. Falconi lifts her head and gaze flits between me and Fed. “Because he wasstupid.” When neither of us responds, she continues. “Who the hell walks into a room of Di Santos and pulls out a gun, Federico? Let alone pulls the trigger.” She shakes her head and tears roll down her face. “Only Mario Falconi,” she finishes, her voice cracking.
I stay in their embrace for a few minutes longer, the tension in my body making me rigid, then say the words I should have said an hour ago.
“I should really head home.”
Mrs. Falconi releases a shuddering sigh and tips my face toward her. “I’m so sorry Contessa. After everything you’ve been through…”
“It’s okay,” I reply, with a small, hopefully reassuring smile. In truth, I just want to get out of here. While I haven’t personally witnessed bullets being fired until now, I live every day with the aftereffects of murder, and the stark reality of it is threatening to singe my skin.
“I’m really sorry about your uncle.” My tone takes a sharp dip. “And for what the Di Santo’s have done.” Bronze eyes and a heated glance flash across my lids but I blink the image away. “They all deserve to go to hell.”
Mrs. Falconi’s eyes widen. It’s practically unheard of in this city to say a word against the Di Santos. They’re supposed to be our saviors, maintaining law and order in the city and keeping crime at bay. But they’re nothing but criminals themselves. Criminals and murderers. Barely even human beings. They’re the same breed as the Marchesi’s, who killed my mother. They all deserve to die slow, painful deaths.
I don’t care how that heated glance pumped something effervescent into my veins, or infused my bones with a moreish warmth. It was just a look. And I live for the day I can show the owner of those bronze eyes he’s worth nothing, to anyone.
“Please accept my condolences.” I shake my head sadly, then I walk out of Fed’s room, down the stairs and out of the Falconi residence, unbeknown to me for the very last time.
Contessa
My head is full of dark memories as I leave the dance studio the next evening. My bones and muscles ache from trying to get the routine right. Antonio made me repeat the moves over and over for what felt like a hundred times.
It’s no secret he thinks I’m a loose cannon on the dance floor. If I got a dollar every time he told me I “simply won’t be taught,” I certainly won’t need to dance for the money.
