Page 151 of Rosetti Family New York
I’m part of it now, this crazy, loyal, wonderful family, and I’m ready to prove it every day. They talk over each other, plans and strategies, ideas bouncing off the walls like echoes of everything I’ve ever wanted to be a part of. I can almost see the future here, and for once, I’m not afraid of it.
Besiana Rosetti, I think, and the name fits like I never thought it would.
33
Domenico
Besiana looks at me like I’ve taken a knife to her already wounded heart. The truth is, I want to keep her as far away from this as possible. Away from the docks, the warehouse, her father. I zip my coat as I tell her again she should stay at the hotel. It’s not a social visit, I say. Rafe and I are going to have a chat with Adrian, and it won’t be pretty. We won’t kill him yet, I add, but it’ll be worse. She narrows her eyes and lifts her chin.
“If you think I can’t handle it, then you really don’t know me at all.”
“Besiana,” I say, reaching for her arm.
She spins around and storms toward the door. “I’m coming.”
I follow her out into the December cold. The city lights flicker beyond the Hudson, yellow and blue against the night sky. We get in the car. Besiana stares straight ahead, her jaw set. I take a breath and start the engine.
“You know this is going to get bloody, right?” I say, breaking the silence as we drive downtown.
“With my father, it always does.” She turns to look at me, defiant.
I want to say more, but I know when I’m beat. I nod. “Fine. But you wait outside.”
We pull up to the docks. They’re mostly abandoned at this hour, with only a few late-night workers moving under the glow of streetlights. I park the car in the shadows, far from the closest streetlamp. The warehouse looms ahead, a hulking, empty shape against the river. I reach over and squeeze Besiana’s hand.
“Stay here by the entrance until I know it’s safe,” I say, but I can tell she won’t.
We step out, the cold air hitting us hard. The water laps against the docks, and somewhere in the distance, a ship’s horn cuts through the night. Besiana hugs her coat tighter around her. We make our way to the warehouse.
Inside, it’s exactly how I remember from the last time Rafe and I worked over a guy here. Crates stacked up high, dust hanging in the air, and the damp chill that always finds a way into your bones. What I didn’t expect was the sight waiting for us. Rafe is standing over Adrian, who’s tied to a chair in the center of the room.
“Missed a spot,” I say, motioning to Adrian’s bruised and unconscious face.
“Saving it for you,” Rafe says, voice deadpan.
I kick Adrian’s chair, slapping him until his eyes flutter open. He’s in bad shape already—swollen cheek, blood caked under his nose. When he sees me, there’s hatred in those pale eyes of his, but nothing else.
I smile, a slow, deliberate one. “You tried to kill me. And my father. And every one of my brothers. Now we’re going to take our time with you.”
He doesn’t flinch. Cold bastard.
Rafe holds up a pair of pliers. “Can I start with his fingers?”
“Patience,” I say. “I want him to see it all coming.”
I pull the gag from Adrian’s mouth, and for a moment he smiles. Then Adrian’s eyes shift, landing on the entrance. I turn, and I see what he sees. Besiana, standing there, staring at her father. Rafe gives me a look like what-the-fuck?
Adrian starts pleading, his voice hoarse but urgent. “Zemër, you have to let me go. They can’t treat me like this. I am your father.”
“Besiana,” I warn, “I told you this would be ugly.”
But she’s already walking toward him. Against my better judgment, I step back and let her through.
She stops in front of him. “Baba?”
“It’s going to be okay,” Adrian says, looking up at her with those bloodshot eyes. “We’ll go back to how it was before. Before everything went bad.”
Besiana hesitates, and my heart drops like a rock into my gut. One moment of doubt is all Adrian needs. He lunges forward with sudden strength, gripping her wrist and yanking her into his chest. The move is one fluid motion, a blur of speed that even I didn’t see coming. Her eyes go wide as she stumbles into him. Before Rafe or I can react, before we take a single step, Adrian is holding a knife to her throat. Son of a bitch.
