"Hold on," Samuel sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "we need to start from the beginning. How the hell is Antonio alive?"
"And," Tommaso pipes in, "how does he know her shitstain of a father?" He jerks his head at me. "Our family has literally been at war with the Genovese fucks forever. How long have they been best friends and how did we not know?"
"I don't think they're necessarily best friends," Samuel corrects, ever rational. "They seem to at least be allies on some front."
"What's he going to do with Santo?" Nico chimes in nervously. "What if he's already killed him?"
Leah sits next to Samuel with a shell-shocked expression, and I imagine I'm wearing a similar look. As soon as Massimo started talking, we all crowded at the table, desperate for answers. But now questions and emotions are flying, and I'm worried he's going to shut down again.
"Don't think like that," Leah murmurs to Nico. "We're going to save him."
"I just can't believe he's fucking alive," Tommaso leans his elbows on the table, eyes wide and disbelieving. "I didn't think—I mean, I always knew so little about him and now he's here? Where has he been all this time? Why—"
A low groan from Massimo's side of the table sends the room reeling into silence. The Capo is leaning forward, head bent, and every single one of his muscles seem to be tensed and straining. I watch as he raises his head, exhaustion carved into every line of his face. With the soot still coating his features, he looks entirely not put together. For a man who never has a hair out of place, it's jarring to see.
It's safe to say from the stunned silence around the table that nobody else knows what to do about it either.
Samuel clears his throat, reaching out to touch Massimo's shoulder. "Hey, man—"
It's like a gunshot goes off.
Massimo jerks away from his hand, banging the table and upsetting the few glasses on top of it. Water splashes across the surface and drips to the floor.
"Don't touch me. Don't."
All of us lean back at the danger in his voice.
With a shuddering inhale, Leah shoots to her feet, grabbing a towel and beginning to wipe up the spilled water. Massimo's chair screeches as he shoots to his feet, striding quickly from the room. Tommaso and Nico stare after their brother in horror, mouths popped open.
Silence envelopes us as we sit there, trading helpless looks around the table.
Tommaso clears his throat. "Should we..."
"I think he needs to be alone," Nico whispers.
Inaction makes me nauseous. I'm seconds from taking matters into my own hands, stealing one of their cars and driving my ass straight to Luciano's front fucking door. My muscles are tensed to do just that, when a noise from the doorway catches our attention.
Massimo calmly takes his place at the table. He's still disheveled and covered in soot but he looks more like the Capo we're most familiar with, the pain and exhaustion that was previously written all over his features now gone.
Tensed muscles around the table tentatively relax, and suddenly I want to sob. I'm terrified that Massimo is too far gone, that he won't be able to survive this. We need him—his brothers need him—but how is he meant to lead us in this if nobody can handle it the second he shows an ounce of pain, of real emotion?
"Moving forward," he addresses the table, "you will listen. If you speak, do it one at a time. And do not touch me." He clears his throat, looking around at each of us. "We don't have time to waste."
He waits until everyone nods, tilting his head at me. "Your plan. Tell me more."
"Um," I say eloquently, realizing he wants me to take the lead on this. "I don't really have anything else figured out. You said we have at least a week until Santo..." I choke, unable to say the words. "I know it's risky, but my plan is the only one that makes sense so far."
"Your plan, which consists of you going in alone, figuring out how to get to Santo, free him, and get him out. Alone."
I wince, nodding. When you say it like that...
Mostly everyone is shaking their heads. "No," Samuel says, "it's too risky."
"Seriously Nina," Tommaso sighs, "if you go in there and Santo sees that we let you go along with this stupid plan, he's going to make it back home simply to murder us all."
"He's at my father's house. I know that house. None of you would know how to get around, you'd be lost and at a disadvantage. And I know Luciano. I promise," I lie, "this can work."
"What about Serpentine?" Tommaso interjects. "Why are they not here? One of their own is—"
"Serpentine is not an option," Massimo tells him. "They're not going to survive this. Antonio took control of them eight months ago. Santo has been working for our father for just as long, without knowing it. I couldn't tell him. He would've snapped and Antonio would've figured out that I know he's alive."
"I'm sorry, what?" Tommaso's hand falls to the table with a loud smack.
"Your plan is a faulty one," Massimo says to me. "But it's the only one we have at the moment."
I straighten, glad it seems like he's on my side. He's the only one who could stop me from going. But it hard—no, impossible—to ignore the bomb that he just dropped.
"You knew our father was alive this whole time."
"Our family had finally settled and obtained some sense of normalcy when I found out. We were gaining power and influence. I didn't think—"
"What the fuck?"
"Will you shut the fuck up and just let him talk?" Nico explodes in Tommaso's direction, and my eyes bug out of my head. Tommaso blinks, stunned, and he doesn't say another word.
"Years ago," Massimo continues, "I had briefly considered the possibility that when Antonio faked his death, he used Luciano to guarantee his cover was airtight. Having someone on the inside would ensure he could successfully start over. I also suspect he used some of Luciano's connections to continue some of his endeavors. Specifically, those pertaining to his trafficking rings."
When he stops talking, we look to Samuel, all subconsciously thinking the same thing—that he's best equipped to draw answers out of the Capo.
"Why would he do that? Take such measures to disappear and have a different life, I assume, only to restart the same business?" Samuel's eyes slide to Tommaso, to the anger ticking his jaw like a time bomb. I can see him silently begging Tommaso to put aside familial issues for now, to keep it together until a plan is formed.
"It wasn't for business," Massimo says. "It's merely his nature. He was likely only indulging, not running operations. He knew that Luciano would not blow his cover."
"It's a big favor. Why would Luciano do that for Antonio? What would he get out of it?"
"I can only guess the assurance that one day, Antonio would return and destroy us. Even if Antonio himself didn't realize that was what he would desire, I suspect Luciano knew that. It was an investment he was willing to make. All these years he's just been waiting for our father to come back—laughing at us, I'm sure, as he occupied us with a foolish rivalry in the meantime."
I shudder, my eyes fixed unseeingly on the table. "It is like him. Luciano will play the long game. He'd play it for his entire life, as long as he had the guarantee that on his death bed, he'd get to see it pay off."
Massimo nods once. "I didn't think it plausible at the time. There were real reasons our family and Luciano never got along. He wouldn't stop trying to expand his business into my city. All these years, as Antonio has been watching us, I've been watching him. Developing a plan." Something close to self deprecation creeps into his tone. "But I missed his association with Luciano. They hid it too well."
"I'm sorry," Tommaso interjects, forgetting to be quiet. "A plan to what, exactly?"
"A plan to kill him."
Tommaso leans back, and I know things are about to go fucking south again. "Okay, so you're saying our father faked his suicide, you knew about it, and were planning on killing him? Without letting us know any of this?"
Massimo nods. I push my head into my hands. What the fuck is going on is a constant mantra, repeating over and over in my head.
"Nina, I consider your plan the most reasonable due to the fact that Antonio holds a certain opinion of women that is quite similar to Luciano's. He will be entirely focused on Santo and you, for all intents and purposes, will be invisible. But you need to know, Antonio has—"
"Okay, no!" Tommaso shoots to his feet, his chair sliding several feet behind him. "Why the fuck are we glossing over this? You fucking knew and you said nothing? Why would you do that? Give us some answers, for fuck's sake!"
Silence greets his outburst. Tommaso's chest heaves as he glares at his brother, and Massimo rises to his feet. We hold our breath as he pushes in his chair and straightens the collar of his shirt.
"Well?" Tommaso yells, and Leah shuts her eyes, lips trembling.
Massimo simply stares.
"Fuck you!" Tommaso roars, slamming his fist into the wall. He swears, clutching it to his chest, his eyes glistening. "You have simultaneously rebuilt and destroyed this fucking family. I can't—I can't stomach it some days. Some days it's so fucking suffocating that I just want it all to end, and I try—I... Jesus, and now, Santo is dying. He's dying, and you lied to us about our father for years, and you're so robotic! You're not acknowledging the way this could be affecting us."
"How many lines did you do when you snuck off earlier?" Massimo asks. The silence that follows is a black hole, abysmal, and nobody breaths. "Did you think that would help us figure out how to save your brother?" He shakes his head. "I'm robotic? What about you? You're sick, Tommaso."
"I'm sick..." Tommaso says breathlessly, his voice strained in utter disbelief.
"Do you think I haven't known? I'm the one who's been making sure you don't spend years behind bars. I'm the one who pays off the families of the men you kill when you're behind the wheel high out of your mind. Some day, Tommaso, you'll realize you're not invincible."
At this point, my chest physically aches. Massimo's words don't match his tone; he's calm but the things spewing from his mouth ride the brink of destruction. It gets under my skin, spins me in circles as I try to decipher his intent. Because it's not blatant malice or something equally easy to spot; it's manipulation.
"I don't have time to acknowledge the way these events might be affecting you," he continues, and I wish he'd stop, that whoever he's turning into would disappear again, even if it meant he were to be stuck silently dying in front of us. This, whatever it is, is worse. "Neither do I have the mental capabilities."
With a bang, Tommaso knocks his chair to the ground as he practically runs from the room. Nico's chasing after him the next second, and Samuel follows, after leveling the Capo with a look that would probably cut into him if he had the ability to feel.
I feel sick as I tilt my head up to look at Massimo and I realize that he's unraveling again. This past day seems to successfully have stripped his usual mask from him, and the ease with which it slips on and off is terrifying in a new way.
He brings a hand to his forehead. It trembles until he mashes it to his temple, knotting his fingers in his hair. Eyes screwing shut, he makes to rip the hair from his scalp, and I stumble back in shock.
When he looks at me, eyes wild and hair sticking half up as if he's been electrocuted, I fumble around me. My fingers close around one of the empty glasses, and I clutch onto it like it's going to save me.
His eyes follow the movement. Something comes across his face then, something I'd never classify as a smile. It's a stretching of his mouth that might have once been a smile, before it was torn apart and stitched carelessly back together all wrong. All wrong.
"If you'll give me a second," he says.
"What the fucking fuck," Leah whispers, and I whirl around, forgetting she's still there, "was that?"
We watch as Massimo leaves the room again.
"I don't... okay, I didn't imagine that?"
The fear mirrored all over her face confirms that I haven't hallucinated what just happened. But it feels like a glitch. Not real. What miserable alternate universe have we been dragged into?
We both gasp as Massimo reappears, like we expect him to be wielding an axe and screaming bloody murder. I tightly grip onto my useless weapon again, but he's not the way he was when he walked out of this room. There's a large knot on his forehead, a bruise already forming, that I'm sure wasn't there before.
Or maybe I'm fucking crazy. I think I am losing it; I think everyone is.
"Meet me in my office in twenty-five minutes," Massimo orders me. We will decide on our plan tonight."
I glance at Leah, and she's giving me a 'like hell you're going to be alone with that maniac' look.
"Fine," I say, deciding I'm bringing a gun with me.
"One thing you should know, Nina," Massimo pauses, halfway out of the room. "My father has ASPD. Anything you're expecting about the way things will play out—get rid of that. You can't predict him, or anything he'll do. But I'm going to help you learn how to handle him."
"ASPD," Leah murmurs after he's gone. "Is that—"
"Antisocial personality disorder," I say, my voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. "Hey, where are those guns we almost used earlier?"
Twenty-five minutes later, I push open the doors to Massimo's office, a gun tucked into my waistband and a determination unlike anything I've ever known propelling me forward.
---
Don't ask me wtf is happening because idk! All I can say is that Simo's book is gonna be a lot darker than this one and I can't wait.
How are we feeling? Confused? Angry? Lemme know.
Thank you for sticking with me, I know it's taking EONS but in the next couple chapters we're getting to the real action! Just had to set some things up first. (;
- G