Chapter 7 Untitled Chapter

Salvatore

Salvatore stood by the window in his private study, a glass of bourbon in his hand. Vito stood near the door, his arms crossed, watching his him with a hard look.

"Are you sure about this, Salvatore?" Vito asked "Are you really sure about making her your queen?"

"I've never been so sure of anything," he said without turning.

Vito took a step forward. "The Marcellini family won't like this. You agreed to marry Vittoria Marcellini three years ago. You're engaged. This could start a war."

Salvatore took a slow sip of his drink. "Let them try."

"The Marcellinis might not be bigger than us, but they aren't people we should make enemies of either," Vito said. "Our family has ruled Italy for generations. Every family is waiting for us to slip so they can drag us down. We should be making more allies, not enemies. First the Bianchis, and now this? All for a stripper?"

Salvatore turned around slowly. His eyes were cold.

"Careful, Vito," Salvatore warned, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "It would be wise to hold your tongue if you value your life."

"I'm your second in command," Vito said, not backing down an inch. "I've been looking out for you since we were boys. This road you're on will lead to your destruction. You've been obsessed with this woman for two years. She makes you weak. And a weak Don cannot lead."

Salvatore snapped. He grabbed a knife from his desk and threw it.

The blade grazed Vito's cheek and hit the wall behind him. Blood welled up on Vito's face, but he didn't flinch. He wiped it with the back of his hand.

"The next time you call me weak, I'll aim higher," He said. "Leave me."

Vito gave a small nod. "Think about what I said."

He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Left alone, Salvatore walked over to his desk. He reached under the wood panel and pressed a small button, turning off the alarm for the secret hallway connected to Carmella's room.

He leaned back against his desk and waited in the dark.

Come on, gattina. Show me what you've got.

_

Carmella

It was 2:00 AM. The estate was dead silent.

Carmella stepped quietly out of the bedroom closet. She had found a hidden metal latch behind a row of heavy coats, opening a narrow stone hallway inside the walls.

She smiled. He made a mistake leaving this open. 

She crept down the dark path until she reached a wooden door that was slightly open.

She peeked inside. It was a huge study. High bookshelves, a mahogany desk, and big glass doors leading out to a balcony. Through the glass, she could see the front gates of the estate far off in the distance.

Freedom.

Carmella crept into the room, staying low. She checked the top of the desk, looking for the keys to the estate gate.

Nothing. The desk was empty.

Where are they?

A soft metal sound echoed from the dark corner near the bookshelves.

Carmella froze.

Salvatore stepped out of the dark. He wore a black shirt, unbuttoned. A drink in one hand. A set of keys spinning around his finger in the other.

"Looking for these?" he asked.

She pulled her hand back and stepped away. "You... you were waiting for me."

"Of course I was," Salvatore said. He set his glass down on a small table and began walking toward her, slow and steady like a predator. "Did you really think I'd leave a hidden door unlocked by mistake?"

"You set me up."

"I wanted to see what you'd do," he said.

He kept getting closer. Carmella backed up until the desk hit her legs. He stopped right in front of her. So close she could feel the heat off his body.

His thumb brushed her lower lip. He didn't look away.

She let out a soft breath.

His eyes dropped to her mouth. Then back to her eyes.

"Stay here with me. Stop running. You could have everything you ever wanted. Money. Power. Protection... Me."

For a second, she felt it. A pull. He was handsome. Powerful. Looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Then she remembered how he had kidnapped her and dragged her here against her will.

Fuck him.

Carmella lifted her foot and stomped hard on his shoe with all her strength.

"Fuck!" Salvatore pulled his foot back.

Before he could grab her, Carmella shoved his chest and ran.

She slammed the closet door, locked the latch, and leaned against it, breathing hard.

Her hands were shaking.

Round one to me, you bastard.

The next morning, sunlight filled her room.

Carmella was sitting on the bed when the door unlocked.

Two women entered carrying a wooden breakfast tray. The older woman had a strict face and a neat grey uniform. She looked at Carmella and gave a stiff nod.

"Good morning, Ms Russo, I am Rosetta," the older woman said. "And this is Teresa."

She pointed to the younger girl behind her. Teresa was probably around her age, with soft brown hair and pale skin. Her hands were shaking slightly as she held a small basket of fresh fruits.

Carmella watched her closely. Teresa avoided eye contact, bit her lip nervously, and flinched when Rosetta spoke.

The weak link

Rosetta set the tray down on the table and said, "Don Morello left for Palermo this morning. He'll be gone for three days."

Carmella's eyes brightened slightly. He's gone for three days.

"Thank you, Rosetta," Carmella said softly, her voice polite and gentle.

Rosetta looked at her suspiciously, surprised by Carmella's sudden change in attitude. "Call if you need fresh towels or anything."

As Rosetta turned to leave, Teresa accidentally bumped the edge of the table, making the teacups rattle.

"Watch what you're doing, girl!" Rosetta snapped at her.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Rosetta," Teresa squeaked out, her cheeks turning red as she looked down at the floor.

"Go to the hall," Rosetta ordered.

Teresa hurried out, looking completely defeated and nervous.

Carmella watched the whole thing, a new idea taking shape in her head.

Screaming at Salvatore got her nowhere. Stomping his foot was fun, but it wouldn't get her out of the front gates. But Teresa? Teresa was scared, and easy to manipulate 

If Carmella couldn't get the doors, she would use the girl.

She would act nice and soft. Make Teresa like her until she got the information and security keys she needed to run.

Carmella picked up her fork and took a small, bite of her food.

Have a nice trip to Palermo, Salvatore. When you get back, I'm going to be gone.