The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,59

squeezed my wrist.

“No, nothing.”

Toto spotted Alessandro casually holding my wrist, a strange look flashing over his eyes. Almost jealous, but not quite. Did he miss being able to hold someone? Toto was not celibate by any means, but a casual hook-up was not the same as building familiarity with somebody, a relationship.

Like he’d had with Aisling.

I was still in contact with Aisling, our conversations brief and awkward. The longer I went without telling her about Toto’s request, the more it weighed heavily on me.

It’s not your place, Alessandro had told me when I’d asked him about it. Let my father figure out what he wants to do with his mistress, alone.

I know, I replied. I just feel like they’re purposely trying to be miserable.

Let them.

Mean.

His eyes had flashed and dipped down to my lips. So I am.

That conversation had led to hours of moans and sweat and—

Sophia, this is not the time, I warned myself, already feeling myself flush. Alessandro being so close and smelling so good did not help.

“There were files with Dante’s birthdate,” I said. “Let’s have a look at those.”

“Perhaps Catherine is feeling very aunt-like these days,” Nero pointed out.

Sergio snorted.

Alessandro shot them both hard looks. They sobered immediately.

My husband scrolled through all the files I had copied, a wealth of information. He found the file called 27th of October and clicked on it. A single file popped up—a video.

He clicked it.

The screen stretched, showing a grainy image. The camera was situated high up on a building, looking down at the familiar Chicago streets. I could make out the roof of a building, as well as a hospital to the side.

It was daytime.

The video moved quickly, already edited to speed up the playback. Soon, a figure moved into the frame, carrying a heavy suitcase, comically fast. The figure moved around the roof a few times, buzzing from place to place like a bee. They looked like they were trying to find the perfect spot. Eventually, they did.

The figure crouched down and opened their suitcase. Their hands disappeared before coming back up, holding a huge gun.

They readied themselves, pointing the sniper in the hospital’s direction.

A cold feeling began to grow inside of me. I very much wanted to turn away, to seek comfort in Alessandro or hold my son in my arms. I felt like I was watching something bad begin to happen, like seconds before a car accident, but I couldn’t turn away.

The sniper spotted their victim. Very carefully, they rested their finger on the trigger, waiting.

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue and gold. A woman leaped out of the shadows, diving for the sniper.

She collided with them just as they pulled the trigger. The gun moved with them both, changing direction.

The sniper and woman hit the ground. They got the better of her quickly, revealing themselves to be a man–their face was so familiar, too familiar. Before he could lay another punch on the woman, a blond-headed man popped up out of nowhere and shot at the sniper.

The sniper got away, swinging themselves over the side of the building.

Instead of going after him, the man crouched down by the woman, dragging her to his chest and rubbing her back. The video ended with them locked in each other’s embraces, looking at each other like there was no one else in the world.

Alessandro looked at me. “You okay?”

“My sister saved me.” As soon as the words were said aloud, I knew I couldn’t take them back. “The sniper was going to kill me but...she stopped them.” And instead, Don Piero had been shot.

“I know that boy,” Toto said, eyes still pinned to the screen. “That’s one of your brother’s soldati.”

“Raul,” Alessandro said. “Raul Andolini tried to kill my wife.”

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. Another failed assassination attempt. I was either cursed or very, very blessed.

My husband tightened his grip on me, like I was going to disappear into the past, the what-ifs.

All I wanted to do was hold my son.

“Why would your sister do that?” Sergio asked me, not rudely.

“I’m not sure.”

He twisted his lips but said nothing more. I saw his eyes go down to his phone, like he was expecting a message. But we were on a plane, so there were no new messages.

I combed my fingers through Alessandro’s hair, the act comforting. “Let’s keep going through the files. I want to see if they have anything on the Corsican Union or Adelasia.”

Alessandro clicked off the video and continued scrolling.

Nero asked me, “Were