Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Emelia

The second I see Massimo’s face, I know something’s wrong.

Something happened.

The look in his eyes and the paleness in his olive skin are enough for me to push aside my fury over where he spent our wedding night.

It’s late afternoon, and he’s just coming home. I push past the fact that his hair is scruffy like it would look if he spent the night in bed with that woman.

He walks into the bedroom, moves right up to me by the window, and takes my hands.

He holds my gaze. I know for sure something really bad must have happened.

“What happened?” I ask, afraid to hear it, not knowing what he’s going to tell me to break me.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Emelia. Something bad happened.”

I stare back at him trying to preempt what he’s going to say. He wouldn’t look so broken if something happened to my father, and I don’t think he would look like that either if he cheated on me.

I don’t think he would say sorry. Come to think of it, I can’t recall him ever saying that word.

“What happened?” I ask again.

“It’s… Jacob.”

I pull my hand from his, and a breath leaves my lips. “Jacob… What happened to Jacob? You said you let him go.”

“I did. I did let him go, but I don’t know what happened. I got a call this morning, um… Emelia, he’s dead.”

My knees give, and I fall to the ground with my mouth open. A gamut of emotions swarms my body and shock flies through me, slamming into every crevice of my being.

“No… no.” I shake my head.

He gets down on the ground and stares back at me. “I’m sorry…”

My hands fly to my mouth as the tears come hard.

Jacob.

My Jacob is dead?

It can’t be true.

“He can’t be dead. You told me…” My voice hitches when I remember in perfect clarity what Massimo told me. “You monster. You told me I’d never see him again. This is what you meant?”

When he left here last night, he looked enraged, ready to kill. I back away from him on my hands until I can stand, then I back out of his way.

“No. I didn’t kill him. He was shot. He was… somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be and knew things he shouldn’t.”

I cry harder. Poor Jacob.

This can’t be real. My poor friend. And why did he die? For me.

Massimo reaches out to touch me, but I back away.

“Where did you go? How convenient that you should leave me after the way we argued, and then my best friend turns up dead today? Where did you go?”

“I was at the club all night.”

“Club. You actually went to a club on our wedding night?” I shriek.

“My club. Renovatio.”

My eyes snap wide. I know that club, not because I’ve ever been, and not because I knew it belonged to him. I heard Jacob’s friends talk about it. It’s a strip club.

I raise my hand and slap him so hard my fingers leave a mark, just like that day weeks ago.

“You bastard. Not even a full day of marriage, and you spoilt it. I hate you. I shouldn’t know you. I don’t know why you couldn’t have found some other way of getting even with my father. Fuck you.”

I don’t care what I say to him. My soul is broken. My best friend is dead. Jacob tried to warn me I was in danger, and now he’s dead.

“Emelia-” He reaches for me, but I rush away from him

“Get away from me. Get the hell away from me.”

The door opens, and Candace stands there looking in to see what’s happening. I run straight into her arms and cry, feeling my body break when I think of Jacob.

He’s dead. I can’t believe it. I just can’t.

And it’s my fault.

It’s my fault he’s gone.

I hear his words now. Him telling me he loved me. I didn’t say anything in return. I couldn’t because I gave the wrong man my love.

The monster.

“Do you want some more?” Candace asks, glancing at the empty cup of hot chocolate.

She made it extra sweet, and Priscilla made cookies. They both said sweet things were good for shock. Mom used to say the same thing.

“No,” I croak. It hurts to talk.

We’ve been out on the terrace for a few hours now. I’ve already gone through a box of tissues and a plate of cookies that I know were delicious, except my taste is off and I couldn’t taste the sweetness.

I ate just to do something with my hands, and chewing seemed to distract me from the pain of loss.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“No, thank you for sitting with me. I… don’t have many friends. I just had him. All my life, it was just the two of us.”

“I understand. I’m so sorry he’s gone. I’m so sorry,” she says.

She knows I think Massimo did it. She also knows I know she doesn’t believe he did.

“Thank you.”

“Emelia, talk to me. I think this is the one day when you can truly talk to me and not a damn thing will be said against either of us. I’m all ears.” She nods.

I dip my head and bring my arms in, as if I’m trying to hold the rest of my heart together. When I look back at her, I see nothing but genuine care in her eyes.

“I just wish I never got dragged into this mess. Jacob would still be alive. He was from our world. He knew not to do certain things, but he got freaked because he thought I was in danger. He would have done anything for me.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Emelia. If he was from our world, then he knew the risks. I feel like an asshole for saying that to you, but it’s true, and you can’t blame yourself for something you have no control over.”

“I just feel so awful.” I stare at Candace and decide to ask the question on my mind about Massimo. Maybe I just don’t want to believe he could hurt me so badly. “You don’t think Massimo killed him?”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t. Maybe if this was a few weeks ago, I mean, before he knew you, I wouldn’t question it. It would be my first thought. Something changed him when you came along. Yes, he was hard work, and yes, he’s still a hard man to deal with, but… I don’t think he killed him. It would hurt you too much.”

I shake my head at her. “He doesn’t think of me like that.”

“I can’t speak on that, but I’ve known him long enough to know him as a person. I don’t agree with most things he does, but if there’s one thing you can count on Massimo for, it’s telling the truth. Either he’ll tell you the truth, or he’ll say nothing. It’s his one saving grace. He’s not a liar.”

I press my lips together and gaze out to the sea as the gentle breeze touches my cheeks.

Massimo isn’t a liar…

I can’t think right now to process anything, even if I know she’s right.

In all the time I’ve known Massimo, he’s never lied to me.

Sleep never came last night. I spent the time re-reading Jacob’s messages.

The ones I never answered.

All one hundred of them.

I went to the room and sat by the window, never moving except to go to the toilet and get a drink of water.

Massimo didn’t come back to see me. I don’t even know if he was home or if he left and went back to his club. God… I can’t believe he owns that club.

I push it all out of my mind. Shit like that means nothing given what’s happened to Jacob.

I need to see his family. Even if I have to swim across the sea, I have to see them, see how they are. I can imagine his parents and his brothers being devastated. Everyone loved him.

The door creeks open. I look over to see my dear husband walking in.

So, he is here.

I accepted in my mind that maybe he didn’t kill Jacob, but I’m still mad because this is still his fault. He walks over to me as I look at him. I don’t know what we’ll argue about today. I want details though. I want to know more.

“I came to check on you,” he says.

“Did you just get back from the club? Were you there all night, again?” I ask, unable to hide the fury in my tone.

“No, I didn’t. The other night, I wasn’t with anybody. I went to my office, and that is where I stayed all night. I have footage of me being there, but I’m not going to take it that far. When I tell you something, I expect you to believe me,” he says, cool and even.

I look away from him. He, however, chooses to sit in front of me so I can’t escape his hard blue gaze.

“I didn’t kill him, Emelia,” he says. “I don’t have an alibi in regard to the proposed time of death because I would have been driving, so unless a camera picked me up enroute to the club, I’m a little screwed when it comes to whether you believe me or not, but that’s my word. When I said you weren’t going to see him again, I didn’t mean this. Can I please ask you to think about what I’m saying?” His gaze clings to mine.

I draw in a breath and nod slowly. I’m not ready to be okay with him yet because things are far from okay. They were never okay to begin with.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“I need more information. You said he was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be and knew things he shouldn’t.”

“Emelia, I wanted to give you some context. But I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Why?”

“There’s a reason we keep women out of business. There are some things you shouldn’t know.”

I’ve heard that mantra before when my mother would ask my father questions.

“Would the Syndicate have killed him?” I want to know that.

“No. I don’t think so. But I’m looking into it.”

I hold his gaze. Hearing that lessens the tension.

“Thank you…Can I see his family? Please. They’re like my own. I just want to see them.”

“Yes.” It’s the first thing he’s ever agreed to so quickly. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. Thank you, but maybe I should go by myself, if that’s okay.”

“Okay, but you have to go with the guards. Now’s the time to be more careful than we ever were.”

I can’t argue with that.