I feel like I'm going to throw up. Like my insides are tightening into knots. And it hurts. Jesus Christ, it hurts.
It's been a long time since my family was under attack like this. Honestly, I can barely remember it. But I am painfully aware of the fact that we have never fought a war without losing someone important.
My grandparents. My parents. Uncle Antonio. The list goes on and on. And the longer it takes for my mother to call back, the worse the dread is.
But I slap on a smile like I always do and I make good on my word to Ryan. I climb into the running town car right outside the gates. Duke's already in the back seat and offers me a smile.
"Hey there, princess."
"Hi, Duke."
"No dance today?" he asks as the driver closes my door.
"Not today," I reply simply.
The driver takes off and I turn my attention to the window. Winter is in full force now. The entire landscape is pure white. Snow covers the ground and trees, the only exception being pathways people have shoveled clear.
"Elle," Duke nudges my arm. I glance at him only to furrow my brow.
"Want to try?" he holds out a tupperware.
I eye up the brown circles with trepidation, "what is it?"
"Peanut butter covered bananas," he pushes the container closer. "I know you're a fan of both."
I don't feel like fighting with him right now and that's exactly what'll happen if I don't just give in. So I take one and pop it in my mouth.
"Good, right?" Duke takes one for himself.
"Yeah," I have to concede. I reach over and take another.
I can see Duke in the corner of my eye. He's trying to hold back a smile, poorly, as he watches me eat. I choose to ignore him and look out the window again.
"Did you end up putting together a study guide for the English exam?" Duke asks.
"Not yet," I reply, still facing the window. "I'll do it this weekend."
"Share it with me?" he asks.
"Of course," I wave my hand dismissively.
"Hey," Duke puts his hand on my forearm. I look down at it before trailing up his arm to his face.
"Are you okay?" he asks. "You've been off since we came back from New York."
"I'm fine," I flash my trademark smile. "There's just a lot between exams and my recital."
"Didn't you just have a recital?" he asks.
"This is the big one, though," I reply. "It's kind of make or break."
"When is it?" he asks, drawing his hand back.
"The weekend before exams start," I inform him.
"Is your dad going?" he tucks the now empty container into his backpack.
"Probably," I shrug. "I hope so."
"What about that boyfriend of yours?" he continues to question me.
"I haven't told him yet," I admit.
It's the truth and if I'm being honest, I don't think I want Rome there. He's not even really my boyfriend, nor do I have any desire for the other dancers to meet him. Most certainly not if my father is going to be in attendance.
"You're a really talented dancer, Elle," Duke says earnestly. "You're going to do great."
"Thanks," a genuine smile tugs at my lips.
He gives that lopsided cocky grin and my chest tightens. But not in a bad way, not the way that anxiety feels like it's eating me from the inside out. Whatever it is that caused the sensation is new to me.
The driver parks the car outside the corporate building and hurries to open my door. I step out, uttering a quiet thanks, and start for the entrance. Duke is at my side in a second, holding open the glass door.
The receptionist looks up as we enter. She smiles politely before picking up the phone. Duke and I take our, now typical, seats in the lobby. I'm not sure how he starts his day here, but mine always begins with Rome being as openly flirtatious as possible.
Apparently today is no exception.
Rome strides towards us with a smug grin, "my love. I always enjoy when you wear your uniform here."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes and stand, "I didn't have ballet so I didn't bother to change."
Rome places his large hands on my waist, practically encapsulating my entire form. I play the part, draping my arms around his neck and putting on a love sick smile.
"I have so many ideas with you wearing this," he says, loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. He has to be doing it on purpose. "Or, parts of this."
I quirk a brow and drop my voice to a whisper, "stop."
His brows furrow for a moment but he quickly composes himself, "let's continue this conversation privately, hm? My office?"
"Sounds like fun," I purr. I know how to fake flirt, I do it all the time just for fun. But doing it with Rome is different.
He's so fucking confident. Like he's convinced that if he's flirtatious enough, I'll change my mind and actually sleep with him. I think that's secretly his plan. That I could tolerate; that's the way most boys I've met approach me.
But there's something about seeing Duke's face. The hurt and defeat. I hate it.
Rome urges me towards the elevator, steering us directly in front of Duke. I can't find it in myself to look him in the eye. This feels worse than anything I have ever done to him before.
But I don't have the luxury of worrying about Duke or my friends or even myself really. Not today. Today the only thing I need to focus on is how I can help my family.
"So, l'vitsa," Rome says, closing the door to his office. "How did it go with the Irish boy?"
(Lioness)
"I killed him," I say passively, sitting on the couch next to the windows. "Got information first, though."
"That's my girl," he smirks, sitting in the chair across from me.
I roll my eyes, "I'm not yours."
"As far as everyone else is concerned, you most certainly are," he counters quickly.
"It's an act," I remind him firmly.
"Haven't you heard of costars falling in love?" he leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Especially when one is so fucking sexy and the other is richer than you could even imagine."
"And which of the two categories do you fall into?" I quip.
"I suppose both," he tilts his head. "But you do as well."
"Can you stop? Please?" I sigh. Much like the other men who I manipulate, I usually tolerate this banter to a degree. But I just can't today.
His face drops, "what happened?"
I shake my head, "family shit."
"Like what?" he pushes it. "Your dad or something?"
"Sorta," I run my hands down my face. "They're under attack, in New York."
The air in the room shifts and I look at Rome. I can't quite decipher his face. Something between concern, excitement, and righteousness.
"How do you know?" he finally asks. I take a deep breath; he can't help if I don't tell him.
"I gave them a heads up," I tell him. "When I tortured that Irish guy he gave me a whole bunch of information. Including plans for a raid. I told my dad, right away, but I guess he didn't want to listen."
Rome nods slowly, like he's deep in thought. I start picking at my nails, an old nervous habit. I'm not sure what my next steps are here. I just want to know that my mom and sisters are okay.
"What a fucking jackass," Rome breathes out. My gaze snaps to him. What?
"What?"
"Of course the big bad Luca wouldn't listen to you," he says with a dry laugh. "What an egotistical asshole."
I shift in my seat uncomfortably. I may not be on good terms with him at the moment. And sure my siblings and I have talked our fair share of shit. But I've never, and I really mean ever, heard someone speak about my father like this.
"I don't know what he was thinking," I shake my head. "Maybe the guy gave me bad info. I don't know the details yet."
"Wait," Rome holds up his hand. "You said they."
I nod, "my mom got involved so they must've attacked my house. My sisters must have been home too. I just-"
"Do you want me to send my men?" he cuts me off.
I reel back, "Excuse me?"
"For backup," he clarifies. "I have men in New York. Just give me the word."
I can't help but laugh, "you really think your men are stronger than my fathers?"
"Hey," he exclaims. "It doesn't hurt to have extra support."
"And what will my father do when your men show up?" I scoff. "He'll kill them, all of them, just for the record."
"Fine," Rome holds his hands up in defeat. "Don't say I didn't offer to help."
"There's gotta be more I can do, though," I insist. "Even from here."
"Not really," he shakes his head. "Not unless you've got other connects in the states."
"Fuck," I breathe out, sinking into the seat. I can't just do nothing. There has to be a way for me to help.
"Let's take your mind off of this," Rome suggests. "What do you want to learn today?"
Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. I dig around in my bag before pulling it out. I don't bother to check caller ID.
"Hello?"
"Tesoro," my dad sighs on the other end.
"What happened? Is everyone okay?" the questions come out hurried.
"We've got it under control," he says vaguely.
"How's mom?" I ask. She was the one who was supposed to call me. She better fucking me okay. I'll never forgive him if she's not.
"She's fine, your sisters too, for the most part,"he says.
"For the most part?" I repeat his words.
He sighs, "Cat got hurt but it's not bad."
Tears prick at my eyes as I whisper, "perché non mi hai ascoltato?"
(Why didn't you listen to me?)
"Isabelle, I'm sorry-"
"Why?" I cut him off.
"Is that really the conversation you want to have right now?" he questions. I swallow hard, it's really not.
"How's Gio and Rosa and them?" I ask. They live at the compound, my cousins too. And I know that was target number one.
"They're fine too," he trails off slightly.
I rise to my feet and begin to pace, "who's dead?"
"Why would you think someone is dead?" he counters quickly.
"I'm not fucking stupid," I huff, adding. "And I know when you're being careful with your words."
It's quiet for a beat before he says, "it's Charlie."
I stop moving entirely, "è morta?"
(Is she dead?)
"No, no," he replies.
"Well?"
"She got shot," he states.
"And?" I push him. Because it's never as easy as that.
"And she lost the baby."
I nod slowly and feel heat begin to course through my veins. He didn't listen to me. He refused to fucking listen to me and now Cat is hurt and Charlie's baby is dead. It's not my fault or even the Irish that this happened. It's on him.
"You're such an asshole," I practically whisper.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out. "I'm sorry, Elle. I should have listened to you, I see that now. I just- fuck, I'm so sorry."
My hands curl into fists, nails digging into my palms, "does Ryan know?"
"No."
"Is anyone going to tell him?" I grit out.
"Rocco will probably call once he leaves the hospital," he says slowly.
Remember earlier? When I said I was going to kill someone but I didn't know who? I've got an update for you; I'm going to kill my fucking dad.
"Sei un cattivo leader," I spit out. "e un padre ancora peggiore."
(You're a bad leader. And an even worse father.)
"Isabelle!"
"I fucking told you," I scream. I can't hold back the anger, even if I wanted to.
"I told you what was going to happen! I told you when, where and even fucking who and you didn't listen to me! You knew they were going to attack our homes. You knew that my sisters, your daughters, would be caught in the crossfire. You knew that mom would step in and fight. And you still took the fucking risk! You still refused to believe for even a fucking second that I know what I'm doing and I know what I'm talking about!"
"Isabelle."
"No."
"I know I fucked up but I am still your father," he states. "Do not speak to me like that."
I bite on the inside of my cheek before replying, "fuck you, Zio Luca."
My chest is heaving when I hang up. My ears are ringing and my vision is slowly inching with black. He didn't listen to me and now my sister is hurt.
I turn on my heel immediately and storm towards the door. I need to get to Ryan before he gets that phone call. I'm not going to break the news to him but I need to be there when someone does.
Because it's going to go one of two ways; he'll be so angry that he blacks out or he will be so distraught that he stops speaking. Both things have happened before.
"Where are you-" Rome calls out after me but I keep moving.
"I need to go," I say vaguely over my shoulder.
I don't bother with the elevator and take the stairs two at a time. As I round the landing on the second floor, I collide with someone else. Papers go flying and I land firmly on my ass. I push my hair out of my face and glare at the other person.
Duke.
I have never seen someone look more worried than he does right now. His eyes are wide, looking me over, while his lips are slightly parted. Like he has something but nothing to say all at once.
I clamor to my feet and grab my bag. I need to get back to campus. I need to get to Ryan.
"Elle," Duke grabs my wrist. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I yank myself free. "And I don't have time for this."
I continue down the stairs to the lobby. The receptionist looks at me confusedly when I stand before her. Her typical cheery attitude is now one of concern.
"Are you okay?" she asks softly.
"I need a car," I state flatly. "I need to go back to campus."
She nods, picking up the phone, "give me one minute."
I whip out my phone and open the text thread with my brother.
Me: where are you
Demon Spawn: ur not my mom
Me: where
Demon Spawn: practice tf
Me: is Ryan there?
Demon Spawn: yeah
Me: I'm omw
Me: stay with him
Demon Spawn: what happened?
Me: talk when I see you
As I tuck my phone away, the receptionist gestures to the front doors. I offer a half smile before jogging outside. I hop in back and without a word the driver takes off.
It's not a far drive but Jesus Christ does it feel long right now. My leg bounces uncontrollably the entire drive. By the time we reach the gates of Montrose I've bitten most of my nails to the quick.
The second the car stops, I jump out the door. I maintain my hurried strides across campus. I can't even register the other students walking around. I beeline for the athletics building.
I can smell them before I see them; the boxing team that is. Most of the team is spread out working on punching bags or footwork. I spot Enzo refilling his water bottle against the far wall.
I scan over the sweat soaked boys until I land on Ryan. He's in the ring, sparring with one of his teammates. He doesn't look exceptionally angry or sad; he must not have gotten the call yet.
"It's the princess," one of his teammates calls out. Both Ryan and Enzo's attention snap to me.
I walk further into the room, more and more eyes falling on me with each step. They both stop what they're doing entirely, even as the coach yells at Ryan, and come to stand at my side.
"What happened?" Enzo demands an answer.
"Not here," I whisper my response.
"C'mon," Ryan grabs both me and my brother by the bicep and all but drags us out of the room. He maintains his tight hold until we get to the emergency escape.
"Did Mom call?" Enzo immediately asks.
I shake my head, "Dad did."
A look a fear washes over both of their faces. Ryan's the first to speak, "is everyone okay?"
"Cat got hurt," I state. Enzo's eyes widen and I continue, "Dad said it's not bad but she still got hurt."
Enzo turns away quickly, "Sto per vomitare."
(I'm gonna throw up)
"So he didn't listen to you," Ryan shakes his head incredulously.
"No," I reply simply. It's only a matter of time before-
Ryan answers his buzzing phone on the first ring, "Rocco?"
I watch him carefully. His face drops, eyes glaze over. The hand holding his phone is shaking but he doesn't move an inch.
I glance at my brother who also watches on in concern.
Ryan hangs up and clears his throat, "Charlie got shot."
"What?" Enzo exclaims.
"She lost the baby," he continues. "She's alive but she's-"
His voice cracks, tears spill down his cheeks. I wrap my arms around his swiftly, pulling him into a tight hug. He holds me firmly against his chest and buries his face in my hair.
"It's going to be okay," I whisper.
"She hasn't woken up yet," he chokes out. "Rocco said she's in the ICU."
Fuck. I wish Dad had told me that part. This is worse than I thought.
"I need to go home," Ryan pulls back suddenly. "I need to find who did this. I need to fucking kill him. Watching him fucking bleed out and die."
The more he talks the louder he gets and the more likely it is that people are going to hear. Enzo seems to catch it as well.
"Ry, you need to calm down," my brother firmly says. "People are going to hear you."
"I don't fucking care!" Ryan exclaims. "Fuck it! Let everyone know that I'm a fucking mobster who's about to go kill a motherfucker!"
A door opens down the hall and I glance over my shoulder. A few members of the track team curiously stick their heads into the hallway. I face Ryan again and take a steadying breath.
I reel my hand back and slap him across the face. His rant stops and he looks at me with wide eyes. I grab the collar of his shirt, forcing him to lean closer.
"Rocco will handle it," I remind him. "There is nothing you can do that he hasn't already done."
Fresh tears well in his eyes, "what if she dies?"
"She won't," Enzo interjects. "Same thing happened to Gio years ago and he's fine. Charlie is going to be fine."
I release Ryan and take a step back, "let's go to take a walk."
He nods solemnly, "let's go."