The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,58
would be Sophia Rocchetti, Donna of Chicago, and he wouldn’t be an FBI agent.
A s soon as the private jet took to the skies, I turned to Alessandro and asked, “Did you know that Konstantin has changed his mind? He plans to remove the Falcones, instead of the Lombardis.”
Sergio, Nero, Toto and Oscuro all looked away.
My husband cast them hard glares, before saying to me, “Konstantin told me recently he’d had a change of heart.”
“A change of heart? A change of heart! That is an acceptable thing to say about buying shoes, Alessandro. It is not okay when discussing removing families from power,” I hissed. “Especially when one of those families is allied with us, via marriage!”
“I know you are worried about Elena,” he tried.
My temper was rising hard and fast. The stress of what had I just done, paired with my depleting adrenaline, had left me angrier than usual.
I didn’t want to snap in front of Alessandro’s men, but their opinions of me didn’t really matter. They had to respect me due to my connection with Alessandro. They weren’t Chicago politicians or socialites, just my husband’s soldati.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I demanded. “We are meant to be teammates. Did you think I wouldn’t notice when we went to visit Konstantin and there are a bunch of Falcone bones on the driveway? Or perhaps that when Elena told me her entire family had been murdered, it wouldn’t occur to me that Konstantin had anything to do with it? It was just a bunch of coincidences.”
Alessandro worked his jaw, then barked, “Out!”
All his men jumped to their feet and disappeared further down the plane. My father-in-law gave me thumbs up as he went.
If I had been in any other mood, I would have laughed.
When they were gone, Alessandro said to me, “I didn’t tell you because I knew you were nervous about coming to Washington and sneaking into the FBI’s headquarters. I had every intention of telling you after.”
“It is not your job to pick and choose what I can and cannot handle.”
His eyes flashed. “Yes, it is. I am your husband. I will always be your husband before your partner in crime.”
I jabbed a finger at him. “If anything happens to Elena, I will hold you personally accountable.”
“This is what being king is, Sophia,” he warned. “You have to make hard decisions. Decisions that hurt the people you love and care about, in order to protect them from greater threats.”
“And what greater threat am I protecting Elena from, Alessandro?” I asked him. “The Falcones? The Tarkhanovs? Us?”
“Konstantin has promised not to touch a hair on her head,” Alessandro replied. “She will be returned to Chicago immediately. She will not be a wealthy widow—Konstantin will take Thaddeo’s assets—but she will have her life and safety.”
That calmed me down. Like water on fire. “Can we trust him?”
“He gave his word. He also knows that if he harms her, I will take it as a direct attack and act accordingly.”
I leaned back in my chair, breathing deeply. I realized slowly that I needed to pump, which was just great. On top of everything else, I had to pump.
I sighed. “I’m going to go and cool down. Don’t—” I said when he began to rise, “follow me. I just need five minutes.”
Alessandro’s eyes were dark. “I would have told you, my love. We both agreed not to keep secrets; I have not broken that deal.”
I knew that. I really did.
I had acted irrationally, embarrassingly so. The first sign that Alessandro had been leaving me out, keeping me out of the loop, had sent me into a tailspin. After years of struggling with my ambition, I had finally gotten into a position where I could flourish—all thanks to Alessandro.
Perhaps I hadn’t gotten over my childhood of hiding my true self as easily as I thought I had. Or perhaps being so close to my sister had upset me in ways I couldn’t identify.
To show him all was forgiven, I kissed his head, running my fingers through his hair before leaving. I could’ve sworn I saw him visibly relax.
When I returned, all five men were leaning over a laptop.
“Anything interesting?” I asked.
Alessandro lifted his head, eyes flashing. I smiled at him. We’re good.
He nodded. “We’re going through the documents you stole from the FBI. There are a few things we didn’t know. Like where their lair in Chicago is situated.”
“Anything about Adelasia?” I came around Alessandro’s back, loosely wrapping an arm around his neck. He