Ruby Fever EPB, page 26
Christina, on the other hand, looked so pleased with herself, she was almost triumphant. She focused on Alessandro, slowly crossed her arms, and smirked at us as we approached. Alessandro marched to the patio so fast, I had to almost run to keep up. He stopped in front of his mother. The countess rose.
“Where are my sisters?” Alessandro asked. His voice chilled me to the proverbial bone.
His mother flinched.
“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” Christina asked.
“Be quiet.” He dropped each word like a brick on her head.
Countess Sagredo flinched again.
Alessandro pivoted to her. “The girls?”
“Back at the villa,” she said. There was a slight tremble to her voice.
“You left that old viper in charge of their safety, knowing he doesn’t give a damn about them because he can’t sell them yet.”
The goon on the left, a huge broad-shouldered brick of a man, cleared his throat and said in Italian, “Your grandfather says hello.”
Oh. So those were not Christina’s goons. They were the grandfather’s goons.
“Remember, Lilian,” Christina said, “we talked about this. This is what’s best for him. Stay strong.”
She had no idea what kind of volcano was about to erupt.
Alessandro stiffened for a fraction of a second and slowly turned toward Christina. His voice was permafrost. “I told you to be quiet. Did you not understand me? Don’t speak again.”
She glared at him. “You don’t have the authority to order me around. I didn’t come here to entertain your infantile notions. Our Houses have a business arrangement, one a grown man would honor without being cajoled like a child. Your refusal to accept facts forced me to bring your mother here. The least you could do is treat us both with courtesy.”
“It’s good that you remember we are adults,” Alessandro said. “Last time I checked, no one except me has the right to negotiate on my behalf. I’m not anyone’s property. I’m not for sale. Whatever bargains you made with my grandfather have nothing to do with me.”
“The payment has been made,” Christina said.
“That’s your problem.” He turned away from her.
“Don’t turn your back on me.” Christina’s voice rang out. “You will regret it. You are not the only Prime here. If you need help remembering your manners, I will gladly remind you.”
And she’d graduated to direct threats. I pulled out my phone and texted Mom.
Please don’t shoot her.
The Artisan smiled.
“She is rude, arrogant, and naïve,” I said to him. “But there are worse things.” Come back from the killing zone. We have bigger enemies to take care of.
Christina turned to me, clearly trying to think of a good comeback.
Alessandro tilted his head. “Make me regret it, Prime Almeida. Impress me.”
Magic snapped around Christina like an invisible whip being cracked. She struck at him, a golden blade in her hand. He sidestepped, rammed his elbow into her face, knocked her leg from under her, and wrenched the blade out of her fingers as she fell.
Lilian gasped.
Christina scrambled to her feet, her nose bleeding.
Alessandro tossed the sword over his shoulder like it was trash. “Again.”
She summoned another sword and lunged. He leaned out of the way, checked her extended right arm with his left forearm, grabbed her wrist, locked his other hand on her other wrist, crossed her arms, and twisted. She hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
What the hell kind of move was that? I would have to make him show me later.
“Again,” Alessandro snapped. “With feeling.”
She leaped to her feet and spun like a ballerina. I felt her magic fire through her sword. It shot out in a crescent in front of her like a huge blade of golden light and missed. Alessandro had moved out of the way, twisted around Christina, and snapped a kick to her left thigh. She cried out and went down on one knee.
“Again!”
She rose, her face skewed by anger, and locked her teeth, her eyes blazing with rage.
He was being remarkably careful with her. All of it hurt, but none of it resulted in a permanent injury.
Christina flicked her wrist. Two golden blades appeared in her hands. She charged, slicing. He leaned back. Her golden swords carved the air half an inch from his face.
Alessandro snapped a kick to her other thigh. Chassé Italien, a powerful forward stomp, perfectly timed. Chamber the knee to the outside and drive the heel into the opponent’s leg like a piston. Christina went down again.
I’d seen him cripple a man with that kick. If you delivered enough force in just the right place, you’d cause permanent damage to the kneecap.
Christina scrambled to her feet and screamed. It wasn’t pain, it was outrage. He’d humiliated her, and he had done it unarmed.
At least she was still walking.
“Not good enough,” Alessandro told her. “Whoever led you to believe you are ready to fight a real opponent has done you an enormous disservice.”
“I hate you!” she snarled.
“Already? We haven’t even walked to the altar.”
He flicked his fingers. His magic twisted around him, delivering weapons into his right hand in a shower of orange sparks, a katana, a machete, Winchester, Little Brother, a tactical sword one after the other. He walked toward her, dropping the swords and guns the moment they touched his fingertips, leaving a deadly trail behind him.
His fingers closed about a short black blade. He’d summoned my favorite gladius. He spun it lightly, letting the blade glide over his fingers like it was glued to them by some mystical force.
“This idiotic nonsense is over,” he said.
Of all the swords at his disposal, he’d chosen that one to end his engagement. I got the message loud and clear.
Christina took a step back. Tomorrow both of her thighs would be bruised, and she would need help to get out of bed. Her nose had stopped bleeding—Alessandro must’ve barely tapped it, but her eyes were still watering, and he’d thrown her on the ground none too gently. Right now, her whole body was in pain, but the sting to her pride was much worse.
The goon on the right with a ruddy thick face stepped forward. The bones of his skull crawled.
Lilian slipped off the bench and raised her arms in a smooth elegant move. Orange sparks clutched at her fingertips. Two guns barked in unison and the goons fell to the patio.
Leon fell off his bench. She was holding a SIG P226 in one hand and a Glock 17 in the other. She’d copied his guns.
Lilian glanced at the two men bleeding onto the stone. “I’ve waited a very long time to do that.”
Um . . . What just happened?
Alessandro stared at his mother. Christina’s mouth hung open.
Countess Sagredo arched her eyebrows at Christina. “You heard my son. Run along now.”
Christina woke up, clenched her fists, opened her mouth to say something, changed her mind, and took off across the patio. One of our guards stepped out from behind the bushes and trailed her.
“Leon,” I said. “Please give us some privacy.”
“Nice guns,” Lilian told him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Leon picked himself up and walked away.
Lilian gently lowered the two guns onto the stone bench and turned to Alessandro. “To answer your earlier question, your sisters landed in Chicago last night. Your grandfather has no idea where they are.”
He just looked at her, mute.
“Well?” Lilian asked softly. “After all this time, do I not get a hug?”
Something broke in Alessandro’s gaze. He stepped over the blood and hugged his mother.
Lilian sipped a glass of mineral water. She seemed different now. The meek air had vanished. Some of the fragility remained, but it was an entirely different kind of vulnerability. Lilian Sagredo was fragile like a very sharp stiletto. You could break it, but the blade would slice your hands to ribbons in the process.
Alessandro sat across from her, the wrought iron table between us. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“Would you like me to . . .” I started.
“Stay,” he said. “Please.”
Lilian smiled at me. “I don’t mind. Go ahead, Alessandro. Ask.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She sighed and traced the rim of her glass with her delicate finger. “I hoped to avoid this conversation because you worshipped Marcello. A lot of little boys worship their fathers, especially if they are as cool as Marcello was. Your father could be breathtaking. I suppose it can’t be helped.”
She paused.
“Marcello was an attentive husband and a caring father. He showered us with attention, and he made us feel special. But when it came to the matters of money and succession, he had no thoughts of his own. He opened his mouth, and his father would speak through it. Franco Sagredo is a monster.
“The moment I landed in Italy, your grandfather took my passport for ‘safekeeping.’ The next time I saw it was two days ago. I was very naïve. My parents were older, and I grew up as an only child, cherished and sheltered. Franco seemed kind and caring, and his wife was this sweet lady who was always smiling. I thought I was lucky to have such kind in-laws.
“The first time I realized there was a problem, we were on a holiday in Greece. Marcello met some friends, another couple. We went shopping, and he bought me a beautiful necklace among other things. The next day his friends continued with their vacation, and Marcello gently explained to me that we would have to return our purchases, because it wasn’t in our budget. I couldn’t understand it. I had married into a wealthy House and brought thirty million dollars’ worth of stocks to our marriage. We’d been married for less than six months. How could we be tight on money?”
Lilian’s smile turned bitter.
“I convinced myself that Marcello was simply frugal in the way rich people are sometimes. After you were born, I wanted to visit my parents so they could see their grandchild. I was told it was unsafe. I attempted to access my accounts and found that I was locked out. I didn’t know it at the time, but your grandfather had me declared mentally disabled. Franco had done a very thorough job of it, complete with medical opinions from two different doctors and eyewitness testimony. He was given complete control over my finances. He had my passport, he had my money, he had my husband in the palm of his awful hand, and you were barely two months old. I was trapped.”
“And my father was fine with that?” Alessandro asked.
Lilian pressed her lips together, obviously choosing her words carefully.
“You know exactly what kind of man Franco is and how much pressure he could apply. You had me and Marcello for the first ten years of your life. We did our best to shield you and allow you to grow into an independent child. Your father had nobody. From the moment he was born, Franco dominated every minute of his life. Marcello was brave and kind, but if you tried to argue with him, he would simply fold like a wet paper doll. I had fallen in love with him, and I refused to give up. I naïvely thought I could pry him free. And then he died. He left us and the day after we buried him, Franco came to our side of the villa and took you away.”
Lilian’s voice caught. She cleared her throat.
“I fought for you. I was told that I was no longer necessary. The heir was born, and I had produced two daughters, who could be sold off to prop the family up. I was expendable. I needed to be grateful for being allowed the privilege of access to my children.”
This was so horrible.
“I turned to your grandmother for help, and she pretended that she couldn’t understand me. I was desperate, so I tried to kill your grandfather.”
Alessandro drew back. “Mother! He’s too strong.”
“I found that out. I never had the kind of training he had. I did my best, but he nearly killed me. He may be old, but his magic has only grown with the years. I managed to escape that fight and I had disguised myself, so when he stormed into our side of the villa, I pretended I had no idea what he was talking about. He suspected me but he couldn’t prove anything and killing me would be inconvenient. My parents are still alive, Alessandro. He wanted my inheritance. That’s when he assigned guards to me to ‘protect’ me and the girls in case Marcello’s killer came back.”
Lilian looked down at her glass.
“I’d made a friend,” she said. “A local woman about my age. Her name was Ginevra. She had two little boys. She was hired to clean and cook for us. Those two men killed her in front of me.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Lilian’s voice shook with barely suppressed anger. “She had no magic, she was not a threat, she didn’t provoke them in any way. They shot her in the head so I would stay in my lane.”
Alessandro’s face was a rigid pale mask.
“You know how little I saw you after that. Once a week if I was lucky.”
“And every time I would come over, you would tell me how important it was that I went out with the right friends and attended the right parties.” His voice was quiet.
“Your grandfather viewed it as a wedding advertisement, but I wanted the world to love you as much as I did. I wanted you to be famous and adored, because I knew that sooner or later you would rebel, and I had to make sure Franco couldn’t make you disappear. If you had suddenly vanished because your grandfather locked you up, there would be a crowd of people looking for you and asking unpleasant questions.”
Alessandro squeezed his hand into a fist under the table. I reached out and put my fingers on his.
“That night I begged you to leave with me,” he said.
Lilian wiped a tear from her left eye. “If I tried to leave with you, none of us would escape. If I gave you any indication how things truly were, you would’ve stayed. You are so loyal. You would have never abandoned us. I saw a chance to save one child, so I shoved you away as hard as I could. I would do it again, no matter how much it hurt us both.”
“I bought the debt,” he said quietly. “Most of it. There’s only seventeen million left.”
“I know. I also know that you have supported us for years and how you did it.”
“Bianca told you,” he said.
Lilian sighed. “Sweetheart, you smuggled thousands of euros into the villa and entrusted them to a fourteen-year-old. She had no idea what to do with the money. I found it stashed all over her room, in her pillow, in sanitary products, taped under her dresser . . .”
Alessandro put his hand over his face.
“After Tommaso died and your sister took over as your broker, did you never wonder why Bianca was so good at what she did?”
Tommaso was Alessandro’s first broker. He was the one who taught him the business side of assassination.
“No,” he said.
“We tried our best to get you to quit, but you were relentless. You had this terrible need to punish murderers, so all we could do was make sure you did it as safely as possible. I’m so glad you stopped.”
“How did you get out?” he asked. “Why now?”
“Last year you helped a man, Lander Morton.”
The Pit affair. Lander’s son was murdered, and we had solved that mystery.
“You’ve met Lander before,” Alessandro said. “I remember seeing the pictures of you and Father on a yacht with him. He had a case of ginger ale delivered to you because you were pregnant with me and had morning sickness.”
She nodded. “He reached out a few months ago. He is sick and worried about what will happen to his grandchildren once he passes. He has a great deal of money, and he uses it well. He did his research, realized the situation we were in, and he and I made a deal. He would provide me and the girls with false identities and help us escape, and in return, you will ally yourself with House Morton. I’m sorry I obligated you without asking, but I was desperate. Bianca is twenty-two, and Franco is shopping her around like she is a brood mare.”
Franco Sagredo needed to die in the worst way.
Lilian leaned forward, her expression pained. “I delayed this as much as I could. I had her pretend to be sick. I used the money you sent to pay off a clinic to assess her as infertile and started a rumor about it, but this last winter he had her independently evaluated against her will and mine.”
A typical trip to a gynecologist was not the most pleasant experience. To be dragged into an examination room against your will knowing that you will be sold right after . . . I clenched my teeth.
“He is moving forward with her engagement. I had to get her out,” Lilian said. “We were scheduled to leave next week, but then Franco decided to fly me here so I could guilt-trip you. I had been meek and obedient for many years and since he had the girls, he thought I would do as I was told. We had to accelerate our plans. Morton’s people got them out. By now Franco has to have realized it . . .”
Alessandro reached out and took his mother’s hand. “It’s fine, Mother. It will be fine. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked at him, her expression soft. “Because you would try to kill him, Alessandro. He is very strong.”
“So am I,” he said.
“I can’t take that risk. You were finally free of him. How could I drag you back in?”
Alessandro shook his head. “Somehow I have given the women in my life the impression that I must be protected.”
I needed to change that subject fast.
“House Baylor has no problem allying with House Morton,” I told her. “We will honor your commitment. It’s a small price to pay for your safety. You are welcome to stay here as long as needed. I’m very glad you are here.”
“Thank you,” Lilian said.
They were so similar, Alessandro and her, both churning with emotions, sitting across from each other with guarded expressions on their faces. I needed to give them space. He said he wanted me here, but now he was using me as an excuse to not discuss things and they both had a lot to say to each other.
