The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,69
“Very well. And Salvatore Jr...He has dishonored my family.”
“The kill will be mine,” my husband said. “But you are welcome to do whatever you want with the remains.”
Speaking of the devil, Oscuro poked his head into the nursery, features set. “Your brother is here, Alessandro. He has come for his son.”
Alessandro leaned down to me, hand to my cheek.
“One more to go,” I whispered, knowing this final obstacle to be one my husband would have to face alone.
“My love.” he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Let us go and accept our dynasty.”
The Chicago Outfit stretched over the snowy gardens, wrapped up in coats and scarfs, shivering but not willing to go inside. From the children to the women to the Made Men, everyone in the organization was ready, waiting. All these people I had grown up with, fed, and been fed by in return. And here was the final moment, the climax.
Tonight, a new Don would be crowned.
Salvatore Jr stood in the middle of the crowd, waiting.
People stepped to the side as my husband made his way through them, parting like the Red Sea. But instead of a prophet of God, they were making way for the Godless.
“Where is my son, brother?” Salvatore Jr asked, voice cold.
“Adelasia is dead, in case you were worried.”
“I know that,” my brother-in-law said. “She didn’t put up much of a fight apparently.”
I saw the di Traglias shift in the crowd.
“Now, where is the child?”
“Worry about yourself right now, brother,” Alessandro’s voice was deep.
Salvatore Jr’s features did not shift. “Do you challenge me finally, little brother?”
Everyone held their breath.
I pushed to the front of the crowd, ignoring the comforting words and praises my way. Snowflakes fluttered down, catching in my hair, but I couldn’t feel the chill.
Alessandro bared his teeth. “To the death, brother.”
His brother nodded. “To the death, brother. Winner will be Don of the Chicago Outfit.”
“Don of the Chicago Outfit,” my husband agreed.
For a moment, the world was quiet, still. The snow itself seemed to relax and watch.
Who was going to be the next king? Who would lead the Rocchetti Dynasty into a new golden era? Who would be the next Don of the Chicago Outfit?
Then, like a crack of lightning, both Alessandro and Salvatore lunged.
They met in the middle.
I had never seen a fight like this. Not at the church where I was married, or when Alessandro and Toto had destroyed my foyer.
They were both fighting for their lives, their future. Salvatore Jr was older and strong and emotionless, but my husband was fueled by wrath and ambition.
Fists flew, knees cracked.
In the moments where there was a break, just a second where they weren’t trying to kill each other, I could see blood pooling from both of them and sweat covering their skin.
Neither of them seemed to notice, too lost in the fight to care. Both were filled with such rage and hate and need to kill that it was jaw-dropping to watch them fight.
They snarled and growled and roared. They punched, jabbed and swiped. Some moves were so fast that I didn’t know they had been made until I heard the thud, saw the flash of blood.
“You want to play like this, little brother?” Salvatore Jr asked, wiping his bloody nose. He flicked his hand to the side, staining the white snow red. “Do you really think you can be king, Alesso?”
“Do you?” laughed Alessandro, wild and filled with rage. “You are devoted to nothing, worship nothing.”
“And I suppose you do?”
My husband grinned ferally. “Oh, yeah, I do.”
In another flash of movement, the two collided, going down to the snow. The crowd moved back as they neared, gasping as blood scattered, staining scarves and coats.
I saw Salvatore reach back, clocking Alessandro straight in the throat.
I gasped, covering my neck, the phantom pain shooting through me.
Alessandro turned to me, in the middle of the fight, like he had heard me and met my eyes.
The whole world seemed to pause.
Those dark eyes took me in.
All I could think about was our wedding day. When I had taken his hand, terrified for my life, and looked up into his eyes. The Rocchettis had been monsters to me, creatures of shadows and nightmares. But now I was one, I was married to one, I had birthed one.
I had been so frightened. But now when I looked into his eyes, fierce love and devotion gripped my heart. This angry man had taken one look at the ugly creature beneath my beautiful golden exterior and fallen