Sorry for such a late update! I didn't realize it had been that long since I'd written a chapter. A lot has happened, so thank you guys for waiting!
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Tony felt completely and utterly useless.
It was a new feeling to him and it was one that was definitely unwelcome. As a man who always had control of a situation, it unnerved him to know he wasn't in control of this circumstance at all.
Francesca was his world. She was all that mattered. She was in control of this situation.
Where had he gone wrong? All he had wanted to do was protect her from that part of the world. For years he had been able to keep his family a secret to her and he was able to keep her hidden from enemies.
That time was over, and in its place remained chaos. His men were taking care of the situation, but they couldn't fix this problem. Only he could.
Worry soon began to take over him. What would he do if she left? She was also known to not take care of herself in a panic, and he had no way to speak with her. She would never give him an honest answer now. Who could he call?
With dread filling his body, he realized her only real friends had been Nathan and himself. Was that his fault? Had he isolated her like she was saying?
The more he thought about it, the worse it got. They shared paychecks, they shared a home, and both of them had nowhere to go except each other's arms.
After a hard, stressful day like these past few had been, he would unwind by simply being around his wife in any way. Tony could already feel knots forming in his back. He gave up on his dinner and stormed to the security office he'd installed when the house had been built. Tate sat in front of several monitors, eyes alert.
"Sir," Tate nodded and stood as Tony entered.
"Who were the two girls killed?"
"Maggie Combs and Tracy Frasier, Sir."
"Pay for their funerals and any other expense their families should need," he ordered, swiping a hand across his face. "Make it anonymous, please."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"Pay for the damages done to the theater as well. Please let me know when it's been done."
"Will do, sir."
"Thank you, Tate." He'd only just eaten dinner, but Tony was already finding himself exhausted. He was very worried about his wife tonight, and wondered if he would get any sleep anyway. Though he was tired, his brain would most likely be keeping him up all night.
Tony heard Tate sit back in his chair and begin typing as he turned to leave the small room.
"Ow!" He heard once he'd pushed the door open. Francesca came around from behind the door, and he fought to keep a frown off is face. It was a battle he lost.
"You could have just asked, Francesca. I would have told you what we were talking about. Or you could have just come in and listened."
"Like you'd be honest," Fran scoffed, rubbing her head with a wince. "And that's a room I wasn't allowed in, remember? God, all of this was going on in my own house. How did I not see it?"
"Well, now that you know you're more than welcome to ask any questions, listen to any conversations, and go in any rooms you'd like." Tony just wanted a hug at this point.
"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. She picked up her dishes off the floor and began to walk towards the kitchen. He aimlessly followed her, clenching his fists so he wouldn't reach out and grab her.
"If you'd just let me explain," he muttered as she turned the water on and scrubbed roughly at the plate. Fran ignored him, trying to drown out the ringing in her ears. Maybe I'm going into shock, she thought to herself. She chuckled humorlessly.
"Fran, we only had pasta for dinner, it shouldn't be that hard to scrub it off," he was only growing more and more worried. She'd accidentally hurt herself at this rate.
"Jesus, Tony, now I can't even scrub a plate correctly?"
"Now you're just picking a fight with me, Fran. All I want to do is explain."
"You should have explained this before you married me, Tony," Fran murmured and put the plate aside to dry.
"Sir," Tony whipped around to see Tate standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a few papers in his hand.
"How important is it, Tate?" Tony didn't have time for this, but recognized something could be seriously wrong.
"Eight point three." Shit. Tony would have to go speak with Tate and a few other members of his family.
"Bring them here. She knows everything." Both Tate and Francesca's eyes widened at his command. It was a risky move for Tony, but things couldn't get any worse. This would be a chance he would have to take.
"Yes sir," Tate was quick to leave the room filled with tension, and Tony motioned for Fran to take a seat.
"Look, Tony, I—"
"You wanted to know everything, Fran. This is it." He didn't know how he wanted to tell her everything. This could be a big step in helping.
Fran sat down without another word and tried to look confident. Her energy was slowly waining, and she wondered exactly how much Tony had been keeping from her. Fear took over her body that love wouldn't be enough to save their marriage.
"Sir," multiple men said at once as they entered the dining room. Fran felt shivers run down her spine. So many strange men were in her house now, but had they been here the whole time? She felt sick.
"Sit, please," Tony said quietly, "this is my wife, Francesca. Fran, these men are apart of my family." Family. The word was beginning to become a trigger for her. She gave a curt nod to the men but kept her eyes down. They began to talk around her but all she could think of was how to get out of here.
No! Be strong, this is your house!
Slowly Fran lifted her chin to look at her surroundings. Tony, Tate, and three other men all sat around the dining table. Clad in suits they all wore solemn expressions on their faces as they spoke in hushed tones.
"Speak louder, please." Her hand twitched, craving to cover her mouth after she spoke. The three strange men looked at her incredulously and she fought to keep her confidence. Their gazes switched towards Tony who glared back at them.
"You heard her. Speak louder." Their gazes lowered and Fran felt pride flow through her veins. She scowled. How could she be proud of her husband that had lied to her all throughout their relationship?
"Was there any warning?" Tony asked.
"Start over. I didn't hear the beginning." Fran was feeling confident once again. One man sighed and folded his arms across his chest. She was in a position to make whatever demands she wanted, and intended to take full advantage of that.
"There was an attack on one of our bases in Michigan, four men were killed. There was no warning, nor was there any evidence as to who did it except a green flag," the man said, exasperated.
Tony sat back with a sigh. It felt like his entire world was collapsing right in front of his eyes. His wife wanted to leave him and his men were being killed left and right. There didn't seem to be a way out of this situation, but he was willing to die trying to find it.
"Sangue Verde did this, sir, and we need your permission to proceed." The room was silent for about a minute before Fran was able to gather even more courage to speak yet again.
"Proceed with what?" Tony's eyes were the only ones that made contact with hers. She felt alone in her own house.
"Funerals and counterattacks, Fran."
"Are you joking? How can you even mention those words in the same sentence?"
"You wanted me to be honest, Fran. This is me being honest." It was as honest he could be right now. He feared if he told her too much at once she'd walk out the door and right into danger. He would do his best to not let that happen.
"That won't be happening, Tony. Dismiss them." When Tony made eye contact with Fran, his eyes widened at the intensity behind her big brown eyes.
"You have the same power I do, Fran. If you want them dismissed, do it yourself." He was testing her. She would either back down in fear and listen to them continue, or she would be herself and dismiss them.
"Get out. Now."
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Thank you for reading!
Let me know what you think will happen next!