Page 79 of My Dark Ever After
This turncoat was inside Raffa’s family or his inner circle.
My stomach turned over at the thought of Renzo, Carmine, or Martina being the mole, and my gut immediately discarded it.
They would not cause Raffa harm under any circumstances.
I could not believe Annella, his housekeeper, or his cook would either.
Which left his sisters, their husbands, Leo, Tonio, and whicheversoldatihad access to Villa Romano and the palazzo. It irritated me that I had not thought to ask more questions about the structure of the Camorra’s security. That I hadn’t been more involved with helping Raffa end this Judas scheme at once.
“So you tried to kidnap me in Impruneta?” I asked, trying to fit the pieces together.
Gaetano frowned. “No. This was our first attempt. Though we did know the Grecos had sent an assassin to Romano’s palazzo, we were assured you would not be hurt.”
“And what about Philippe? Has he worked for you this entire time?” I demanded, infuriated on behalf of Raffa.
“He does not work for us,” Ginevra spat. “He is a soldier of the Venetian. It was Philippe who came to us with the plan.”
A growl rose in my throat, shocking me. I swallowed it back and spoke through bared teeth. “Well, he was not doing it to help you. He was doing it to hinder Raffa. I can assure you I was not kidnapped”—though, technically, Raffa had coerced me to come back to Italy, it was truly for my own safety—“and I would like to return to Raffa immediately. He will be out of his mind with worry.”
“Cara,” Ginerva said, sliding forward in the chair beside me to grab for my hand as she had on the train. This time I did not let her take it. “You are so young. You don’t realize what made men are like. They will do anything to skew things in their favor. Even manipulate innocent girls like yourself.”
“Please,” I said acidly. “I am a twenty-three-year-old woman with a master’s degree. I may have been sheltered most of my life, but in the last few months I have seen men murdered, killed one myself, helped incriminate the Greco family, and fallen in love with a mafioso. I know myself and my relationship much better than you do.”
“I am your family,” she snapped.
“My father didn’t think so,” I countered coolly. “Or else he would not have left you for America. You are strangers, and while I can appreciate your motives may have been kind, I am asking you now to return me to Villa Romano and my chosen family.”
When I looked to Gaetano, his brows were raised, and I had a vague impression that he was impressed with me. Too quickly, that expression dissolved into sadness.
“I am afraid we cannot. You are too valuable a tool to be used against us. So you shall remain here until we can decide what must be done with you, and with the Venetian, if what you say is true and he has manipulated the situation for his own gain.”
“So you are my kidnappers now?” I hissed. “So much better than the Venetians and the Grecos and the Romanos, aren’t you?”
This time when Gaetano grinned, it spread like a knife wound across his face, filled with bloody intent. “As you said, you are still a stranger to us, child. And you have not proven any kind of loyalty tothose who share your blood, so we shall not either. Eduardo, take her downstairs.”
I turned, but hands were already coming down on my shoulders, wrenching me to my feet. Eduardo wasn’t large, but his grip was like iron manacles around my wrists as he started to drag me from the room.
“At least let me call Raffaele,” I asked. “He’ll come for me, and you said you don’t want to start another war.”
“He won’t come for you,” Ginevra said, a pity in those eyes that were so like my own. “You’ll see.”
Raffa’s voice echoed in my thoughts.
Il mio posto felice. My happy place.
La mia cerbiatta. La mia stella cadente. La mia cacciatrice.
My little fawn. My shooting star. My huntress.
There is nothing I would not do for you.
Even start a war.
Chapter Eighteen
Raffa
We were too late.
