Raffaele
I prepared myself as we were landing to deal with Asimina's wrath. My intention to bring an end to the priest the moment we landed wasn't construed well. I certainly understand her worry and her little tantrum, although amusing, was heart-warming. My men stood back, leaned against the Morelli fleet waiting for me to settle my wife. My smile lingers at the thought of my woman. She is something else!
"I've been your wife for just over a week, and in that time, Raffaele, you made me the happiest I have ever been, only to shatter my heart later. Two days ago, you almost died. If you go for those priests tonight instead of coming home with me, I will divorce you!" She emphasized.
I love her fire! Mostly I love how easily she gives in to me. Pinning her roughly against the car had her melting. Mariano and Matteo escorted Asimina and our son safely back to the property before joining us. I want nothing more than to be at home with my family, but this needs to be dealt with. Those priests must die tonight.
"Is Mina on your mind? Brother," Tommy muses.
"Who else would be?" I respond.
Shifting in the passenger seat, I slouch further into it. The pain in my chest has subsided, a tingling sensation remains. I've learned to tolerate the pain and keep going. Unlocking my phone, I flick through the endless pictures of Asimina. I'm dependent on her for serenity. I start a video of her first night home with Nathan. She lays him on her bed and holds the phone, recoding his little yawns. "Hi, sweetness," she kisses his cheek. "I'm going, to be honest with you. I have no idea what I'm doing."
From this angle, her profile is visible. She lays down next to him, lifting the phone; she looks into it and continues to speak to our son. "I promise I will try my hardest to be a good mother to you. The last thing I want is to make a mistake."
Sighing, she turns her head, glancing at our son. "I'm sorry, baby. When you're older, I will show you this video. I can only hope you won't see me differently. It's my fault; no one is here. I didn't fight hard enough, and I lost your brother. I'm ashamed." She drops her phone; I can now only see the ceiling; her shaky voice breaks me. "I don't deserve you, but I will fight since I have been blessed with you. I will make you proud of me."
I hit pause on the video. These clips are incredibly difficult to watch. The agony in her voice alone cripples me.
"You keep watching those videos," Stefano makes a point of saying. What he wants to know is why?
"I need a reminder of what a single mistake caused her. How much I hurt her and how much I lost," I answer the question in his head truthfully.
"She has come a long way since then." Reminding me, he was a witness to it all.
"She has. I agree, but it doesn't change the facts," sliding my phone back into my pocket, I turn my body around to look at my brother. "I never thanked you or Jaz for the support you both gave her."
"Mina became family. Even before all of this," rubbing his eyes, he says, "let's not forget what she has done for me."
Nodding, I open my door, stepping out of the car. It's been a long couple of days; I'm keen to end this. Straitening myself up, I walk towards the property. Not many priests can afford a mansion. The security system was easy enough to hack. My boys sent the surveillance into a loop. Father Santino has no idea the devil stands at his doorstep.
Signaling my boys, they effortlessly unlock the front door. Half follow me, and the rest make their entrance from the rear door. Fiendishly smiling, I walk through the hallway. Not one religious symbol decorates the interior.
The walls are a crisp white, with endless frames. Every picture is of Santino on vacation. While he was on sandy beaches, children were executing, kill contracts filling his pockets. No Morelli man has clean hands; I especially have the blood of hundreds on mine. The only difference, I don't portray to be anything less than a monster, nor have I used children to deliver my evil deeds.
Sweeping my eyes around the around, I focus on my victim. He's still oblivious to my presence. Cutting into his steak and drinking his wine, he remains content. Turning to his left, the sight of my men alarms him. Jumping to his feet, he attempts to run in the opposite direction, only to halt his movements when he sees me.
"Father Santino," I take a step down, heading towards the dining room. "It's time to dance with the devil."
My men's movements are far too quick when the good Father turns and draws his gun; my men fire a shot through his hand. His ear-piercing screams are worse than a woman's. Tightly he continues to hold on to his only weapon, using his uninjured hand. Closing the space between us, I grip the gun from his grasps, slamming it into his face, splitting his nose in the process.
Disorientated, he shakes his head. Calmly, I pull out a chair taking a seat; my men force him to his knees, directly in front of me. "Tell me, Father, did you believe you could end me?"
Trembling with rage and pain, he spits, "C'è un posto speciale all' inferno per te - there's a special place in hell for you."
Leaning my elbows on my knees, I clasp my hands together. My lips curve, and with immense satisfaction, I respond, "Sono d'accordo. Il trono all' inferno e' destinato solo a me - I agree the throne in hell is only meant for me."
Nervously he laughs, attempting to disguise his fear. "Pensi di poter reclamare l'istituto? pensaci di nuovo? - You think you can claim the institution? Think again!"
Inching closer to his face, I focus on the sweat droplets forming on his forehead while listening to his breaths falter. "Non credo di poterlo fare. L'ho già reclamato, e' mio - I don't think I can. I have claimed it. It's mine."
"Quella puttana di tua moglie ne paghera' il Prezzo - that slut wife of yours will pay the price."
The mention of Asimina has my blood boiling; no one threatens my wife, and no man disrespects her. Balling my hand into a fist, I deliver a nose-breaking punch, dropping the priest to the ground. He has a delayed effect and screams out in pain a minute later.
Tommy walks over, fisting the priests' jumper, restoring him on his knees. "He contained the Demons urges until you mentioned his Sweetheart. Big mistake Father!" He mocks. Standing behind the priest, Tommy takes hold of the coarse rope. Taunting the priest, he wraps it around Santino's neck tight enough to make his eyes bulge.
"Dario," he grits, struggling against the rope. Raising my hand, Tommy loosens his hold. Santino falls onto all fours, gasping for air. "Dario will come for you," he dripples as he speaks.
Motioning Leon, he turns and heads outside, returning moments later, dragging Father Dario in, dropping him on the floor next to Santino. "This father, Dario?" Leon smirks. His eyes widen at the unrecognizable face in front of him. "A work of art, is it not?" Crouching, Leon narrows his eyes.
Raised in the institution, he grew to have a special kind of hate for each organization member. Only a few kids from his age group survived, one which he saved, winning her freedom. To this day, the priests believe the girl was killed.
"Pisano," Santino shakes his head, "we were your family."
Smirking mockingly, Leon grabs hold of his head. "No, father, you four were my abusers. When I failed on a task, I was locked in a dog cage like a fucking animal." He glances down at Father Dario; the priest groans out in pain from the multiple razor hacks on his face. His broken ribs make it difficult to breathe. Averting his eyes to me, Leon waits for permission. He has waited five years to end at least one of his tormentors.
I nod.
Drawing his gun, placing it on Dario's temple, he pulls the trigger. Santino turns and spits on him. Leon retaliates quickly, delivering a thundering punch to his jaw. "Il giorno arriverà quando I Morelli's ti puliranno le mani e poi capirai che siamo tutto quello che hai avuto - The day will come when the Morelli's will wipe their hands of you, and then you will realize we are all you ever had."
Tommy tsk the priests, "Blood or not, Leon is famiglia."
A cruel smile hugs the priest's lips, "Anche tua madre ti ha abbandonato - even your mother abandoned you." spitting blood on the floor, he says, "non sei altro che un bastardo un prodotto di una relazione - you're nothing but a bastard, a product of an affair."
Leon's eyes narrow. He wasn't given any information about his parents. The institution burned all previous documentation and forged new records for each child. "What do you know about Leon's parents?" Tommy questions, glancing at me.
The priest remains mute whether he answers or not. The result doesn't change; he will die. Crouching, I focus on the man. "I will find out. Leon will get answers."
His eyes narrow. He swallows but doesn't break his eye contact. Mark takes steps towards me, handing me a brown leather journal. The priest's eyes widen, "You recognized it," I sneer.
Standing to my feet, I open the book, sure enough, the names and details of all their loyal assassins. "You, along with everyone in this book, will die. The institution will be under my control."
Handing the book to Stefano, I order, "Once we are done here, have the boys kill every assassin on this list."
Diverting my eyes to Tommy, I nod. Taking hold of the rope, my brother wraps it around the priest's neck. Reflexes have Santino taking hold of the rope in a desperate attempt to loosen Tommy's death grip. My brother grinds his teeth; his knuckles turn white and continues to strengthen his hold. Santino's body starts to convulse. Those bulging eyes are full of terror; seconds before death, Tommy releases his hold; Santino falls forward, gasping for air. Crouching, I pull out my knife from my ankle holster. Stefano steps forward this time, taking hold of the priest. Without further warning, I drive my knife through his left ear. Santino's eyes immediately roll backward, his mouth hangs open while saliva runs down his chin. A pool of blood rushed out of his wound, staining my hand as I hold the knife in, twisting it deeper. Stefano releases his hold. Santino's body plummets on top of his friends.
Standing to my feet, I walk over to the sink. Washing the blood off my hand, my brows pull together in thought, with Santino's comments towards Leon. Turning to face the boys, I order, "kill everyone on that list tonight."
Nodding, they concur. I proceed to walk past the boys. Tommy hands me the keys. I have one stop to make before I head home for the night. "Call Paul, tell him I'm on my way."
Tommy nods.
I roar the engine to life and head straight for the Institution. It's no longer an orphanage; it's now registered for government purposes as a second chance shelter. Homeless adults between the ages of eighteen to thirty-five can seek refuge. They are given a room, food, all necessities, and of course, training and coaching. The exact nature of the skills we provided are well concealed. Within six months, they will earn enough to provide for themselves. However, they will be bound by contract and continue to work for the Morelli's and train for a minimum of twenty-four months as assassins and guards.
My mother has arranged for all children under eighteen registered to Saint Mary's orphanage to be relocated to credible homes through permanent adoptions. The thoughts of foster homes after Stefano's experience weren't an option. Arriving at the institution, I kill the engine. The building is currently undergoing renovations to meet the Morelli chain of business standards.
The door opens as I step towards it. "Raffaele," Paul acknowledges, holding the door open for me.
"Which way to your office?" I question.
He points toward the double doors to my left, "through there."
Entering the space, I scoff. Father France's old office is prestigious. An oak wood desk with intricate carving sits in the middle of the room, directly in front of an arched window. The remaining walls have built-in bookshelves, with a range of first additions.
Dragging a chair in front of the desk, Paul walks over with two glasses and a bourbon bottle, pouring me a drink. "Is the office space to your taste?"
"Hardly," Paul responds and glances around. "That's the least of my worries." Rubbing his face, he lets out a frustrating breath. "We currently aren't at full compacity; we only have eighty or so recruits living on the premises. Once the renovations are complete, we will double."
Nodding, I lean forward, swirling my drink. "Speak to Antonio regarding funds to support the institution. He will allocate the budgets. You and I will meet weekly until you settle into the role." Sculling my liquor, I glance at Paul, "I need you to do some digging. I need the records of all past assassins. Everything and anything you can find within these walls. Understood?"
Nodding, he refills my drink, "I want the top floor to be set out as a penthouse that will be your residents."
"A room is fine," he retorts.
Standing to my feet, I place my glass on the desk, clasping his shoulder. I order, "the top is to be renovated into a penthouse. That will be your residence."
"Will do," he agrees. "I will start going through files tomorrow."
"Whatever you find is not to be shared with anyone other than me," I instruct. He nods once more in understanding.
Satisfied with his response, I spin on my heels to leave, acknowledging the man as part of my crew as I walk towards the door, "Welcome to the Morelli empire, Paul."
* * * * *
I bring the car to a stop in front of our home in Santa Barbara. It took two years to have this place renovated and incorporate some of Asimina's favorite things. I wanted it perfect! Petro, Bianca, and her sisters were an immense help. In the time we spent apart from her, this was everyone's focus. This is the first property that isn't just a safe house; it's a home. Nodding at the guards patrolling, I use my thumbprint and access code to enter the house. The lights are off, and no sound is heard. In any other case, fear would be crawling at me. However, Matteo and Mariano advised she was heading to bed when they dropped her off.
Making my way upstairs, I glance at the pictures Asimina has already hung. She had spent a week in this place with the boys while hiding, adding her little touches through the house. Pictures of her and our son remind me, every decision I make needs to be carefully thought out. Walking down the hall, our bedroom's light sweeps from under the door—blissfulness, another new feeling rushing through me. Thoughts of Asimina and me with our children in this house give me a sense of serenity. Opening the door, my eyes fall on the bed Nathan sleeps in the middle. His arms and legs are spread out; his mouth hangs open, he softly snores.
Picking him up in my arms, I'm careful not to wake him. Walking to his room, I place him gently into his bed. Snoring, he turns to his side as I throw the blanket over him. I plan to cherish each one of these moments, where his innocents' shines.
Closing the door, I head back into our room, throwing my jacket and shirt off. I turn on Nathans baby monitor before placing my gun in the drawer and head towards the bathroom. Asimina is relaxing in a steamy bath, eyes closed and headphones on. She is yet to notice me.
Unbuckling my pants, I toss my clothes to the side and head for the bath. Opening her eyes, my sudden appearance startles her. "Raffaele," she pouts as I climb in the bath on the opposite side of her.
"Did I scare you, Sweetheart?" A devilish grin curls my lips.
"A little," removing her headphones, she attempts to stand.
I lean forward, seizing her wrist. "Where are you going?"
"I'm finished. It's all yours." Her attempt to loosen my hold is a fail.
"Judging by the temperature of the water, you only just ran this bath." Tugging on her wrist, I demand, "Sit down." She blows a breath but complies. Curling into the corner, she brings her knees to her chest and avoids me. It's pissing me off, "Drop the anger towards me, Asimina."
Scoffing, she rolls her eyes, "You gave me such a hard time, Raffaele, the night before our wedding. I went to that church, not knowing if you would show. You're still recovering, and yet you went out looking for those priests." She shakes her head in disappointment.
Sliding across in the large bath, I pull her on top of me. She tenses, trying to wiggle away. I easily overpower her. "You're right," she meets my eyes, her body already surrendering. "Next time, I promise I will take my nurse's advice and wait until she is satisfied before returning to business." She bites her bottom lip, fighting back the smile my words are forcing. "I needed to bring the assassin attacks to an end. For you, our son, and myself. I know what it did to you." Tangling my fingers into her hair, I force her to keep eye contact. "I know how scared you were about losing me." Leaning in, I graze my lips over hers; a warm, muffled moan escapes her as she presses her body against mine. "It's over, Sweetheart. You can rest easy."
Gently biting her bottom lip, my hold on her tightens. I hum as I dominate our kiss. Running my tongue slowly in her mouth, I savor Asimina's sweet taste. The effect she has on me is ecstasy. My body numbs yet springs to life simultaneously—my heart thunders with each of her soft breaths. There is nothing or no one I have been more desperate for.
Pulling away, I give her a chance to suck in a breath, "I love you," I mumble, running my eyes down her body. Untangling my fingers from her hair, I order, "Ride me!"
Yay or Nah?
Thoughts on Leon?
Thoughts on Raffaele?
Asimina?
Thoughts on Tommy and Stefano?
Paul?
The priests?
The last chapter will be uploaded at the end of this week. What will happen?