“Oh?” Haynes perks up, eyes sharpening. “And where was he?”
“At his family home,” I answer smoothly. “It seems theCapo dei Capiis rounding up the ranks after discovering that one of his men was beating his wife. Badly enough that he eventually killed her. Right in front of their daughters, no less.”
“And where is this soldier now?”
“Gone. Left town before the Outfit could exact their wrath.”
Technically, it’s not a complete lie. Sure, Marcello spent the weekend in my bed and not at home with his father and the other Outfitcapos,like I’m implying. But the meetingdidhappen. I’m sure of it. Vincent Romano wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m just tweaking the timeline a bit.
After the few details Marcello confessed to, it didn’t take me long to cross-reference the brutal domestic violence case with local hospital records. That’s when I discovered the woman who lost her life and left two small children behind had been married to none other than Elio Zappa’s muscle, Aldo. The same Aldo who once baited Marcello into a fight and got his teeth punched out for it.
What surprised me most wasn’t the brutality of it, but how fast Vincent Romano stepped in to avenge the poor woman’s death. Not only that, but he made sure to protect her young girls.He made arrangements with family he could trust, not allowing social services to fuck their process up, ensuring they wouldn’t fall through the cracks due to bureaucracy or apathetic and overworked social workers.
Since Vincent couldn’t save their mother from the hardship she endured, he felt it was his duty to protect her daughters anyway he could.
There’s honor in the way he handled the situation. And a part of me believes that there is honor in the way Marcello dealt with Aldo, too.
When I started this case, this type of information would be enough for us to get a warrant not only on Marcello, but on the boss of the Outfit himself. It’s just the smoking gun Haynes has been dying to get his hands on.
I could tell Haynes everything right now and implicate Marcello in Aldo’s murder. That he had all but confessed to killing him. That the blood on his hands isn’t a thrown-away metaphor. It’s a fact.
However, I don’t say a word. Not because I condone murder, but because sometimes true justice comes too late, if at all. And when that happens, the world needs protectors who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty to ensure that those most vulnerable are always kept safe.
Marcello Romano isn’t the cold-blooded killer that I initially believed him to be.
He’s a protector.
So, if I can protect him now, against the likes of Haynes, I will.
Now and for as long as I can.
When I get home, I’m not surprised to find Marcello waiting for me. Nor am I surprised he doesn’t ask me where I’ve been at this late hour. Our relationship has been based on half-truths and omissions so far. And it’s working for us.
“Come here,” he orders from the couch, his light blue eyes all the confirmation I need to know it’s him making the demand and not his alter.
I drop my bag on the floor and walk toward him with a smile on my lips. A little yelp leaves me when Marcello grabs my waist and pulls me onto his lap the second I’m within reach.
“Hi,” he greets, staring deep into my eyes, the tension from meeting Haynes fading away instantly.
“Hi yourself,” I laugh, cradling my arms around his neck.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, his gaze lingering on my face as my fingers play with the ends of his hair.
“I grabbed a protein bar at the gym.” His frown is immediate.
“That’s not food,bella,” he mutters, displeased.
“I disagree. If I can find it in a grocery shop, then it’s food.”
“You can also find Drano there, but I wouldn’t recommend drinking it.”
I laugh out loud because I know he’s being dead serious. Marcello doesn’t do sarcasm.
“Tell you what? I’ll avoid the cleaning supply aisle from now on, okay?” I retort, pressing a small kiss to the tip of his nose.
That’s all it takes to make Marcello melt, his frown lines fading from his gorgeous face.
“Let me make you something,” he says, standing with me still wrapped around his waist.