The Italian, page 46
“Oh, your whore? How sad.” He tsks. “Maybe if you’d done what I said she’d still be alive. You only have yourself to blame.” He presses the gun harder into Olivia’s neck, and she cries out again. “Put the gun down, Ferrara.”
“And Sergio?”
“Ah, my boy Sergio. I didn’t mean to kill him.” He shrugs. “Pity, that.”
Contempt drips from me as I connect the dots. The puzzles finally fall into place. “Why are your drugs on my fucking yacht, Lombardi?” I snarl.
He laughs out loud like a madman. “You don’t think I’m stupid enough to get them delivered to mine, do you?”
I grip the gun impossibly tighter.
“Perfect plan.” He smiles darkly. “Set you up, wait for you to fake your death, and then kill you both for real. The world already thinks you’re dead, Ferrara.” He presses the gun harder and Olivia whimpers. “How can I kill a dead man?”
“Let her go,” I demand.
“Put the gun down and I’ll think about it.”
I know that if I don’t do as he asks, he’s going to shoot her. I also know that he’s got back up outside.
Fuck.
I can’t win this fight while standing here like this. I need to move it along.
I bend and slowly put the gun down in front of me on the floor.
“Get your hands up and kick it over to me,” he orders.
I lift my hands and kick it toward him.
A click sounds from the side as someone else takes aim.
A gunshot rings out.
One of Lombardi’s men falls.
I take this momentary distraction as a cue, and I rush them. I grab Lombardi’s gun and we struggle over it. It fires in the air. I hit him in the head hard, and his grip loosens. I push Olivia out of the way, and she falls to the floor.
“Move!” I yell at her.
The gun is held above his head as we fight over it.
I punch him hard in the face again and again.
I have never hated anyone as much as I hate this man.
I hear another five rounds of gunfire from Jennifer and Diego as Lombardi and I struggle on the floor.
I’m hit across the head with a vase from behind as another man attacks me. Olivia screams, and I momentarily lose focus at the sound of her pained voice.
Lombardi gets up and runs.
I roll onto my stomach and take aim at Lombardi. I fire off a single shot that hits him in the leg just as he disappears out of the door. Then I turn and shoot his other man who is moving over me. Once clear, I jump to my feet, pick Olivia up, and I look in the direction after Lombardi.
Did I hit him? Did I get him?
“Watch her,” I order Jennifer.
Without another thought, I take chase and run out after Lombardi. I can see the trail of blood guiding me closer.
Yes! I got him.
The trail of blood disappears into the nearby forest. I reach around to the back of my pants to find the other gun is gone.
Fuck.
I only have the knife now.
I take it out and clutch it tightly as I follow the trail of blood into the darkness.
And then, without the moonlight to guide me, I lose his trail.
I stand at the edge of the forest for a moment and I slowly walk in.
I have no idea if he’s still armed. I know I took one gun from his grip, but I don’t know if he had anything else on him.
The echoing of crickets and the noise of the waterfall in the distance are the only sounds.
I step slowly through the dense foliage.
I don’t have shoes on, and it’s difficult to walk on the uneven and sharp ground.
My eyes scan the dense landscape. Tall trees block the moonlight. Out here, it’s nearly pitch-black.
Where are you?
He would have seen me walk in with the moonlight behind me. I duck down into the foliage and crawl out of sight.
I sit still for ten minutes and slowly allow my eyes to adjust. I can soon see a lot more than I could before. I pick up a small rock and hurl it as far away as I can. It hits a tree a fair distance away with a bang.
I slowly climb to my feet and scan the forest as I grip the knife in my hand.
I see a shadow on the hill, and I creep toward it.
It’s him. I can see his chest sucking in air as he gasps for breath. He’s losing a lot of blood.
Does he have a weapon?
I hunch down and make my way toward him.
“Ferrara!” he cries.
I stay silent.
“Ferrara! Let’s make a deal!” he calls, his voice echoing over the valley.
He’s bleeding out and he knows it.
I throw a rock and it lands next to him. He jumps back in fear.
He’s unarmed.
I stand up and show myself, knife in hand as I slowly walk toward him.
His eyes hold mine. “We can be great together. We can join forces—be the strongest syndicate the world has ever seen.” He’s wet with perspiration, and he’s desperate.
I hunch down beside him. “You’re dying, Lombardi.”
He pants.
“I guess you’re not so lucky after all.”
“Enrico,” he whispers. “I’ve always admired you.”
My skin prickles. I know he would say anything to try and gain my sympathy. I glare at the lying bastard sitting propped up against the tree.
Die.
“We could run the biggest crime syndicate in the world. With your connections…and my…” He coughs, and blood splutters from his mouth.
His face falls as he realizes what’s happening, and he reaches out for me. “Help me.”
I kneel down and watch the life slowly drain out of him.
Eye to eye.
I want to see the moment he passes. I want to taste the victory of retribution.
“Enri…” He coughs, and a large amount of blood comes from his mouth.
His face falls and he grabs for me again. He lets out a pained gargling sound.
I watch on in fascination.
I’ve never watched someone die before.
I’ve seen people pass, but I’ve always fought to save them.
I’ve been frantic with words of encouragement and prayer.
I envision myself dragging his head back by the hair and slicing his throat.
I would have loved to have taken his life myself, but that would have been too kind.
He deserves to suffer.
His eyes still… and I smile.
His head drops, and I know he’s gone.
I stare at him and take a moment to reflect on Sophia.
I get a vision of her with her curves and her long dark hair. Perhaps in another life she could have made me happy.
“Enrico!” Jennifer calls.
I stand, and with a heavy heart, I turn to her. She has her gun drawn.
“He’s dead.”
I walk past her and back to the house where two local police cars have arrived. Their siren lights are flashing, lighting up the sky.
I find Olivia crying and wrapped up in a blanket. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she stands.
“Oh, thank God!” she cries.
“It’s okay,” I whisper as I take her into my arms. “He’s gone now.”
She puts her head onto my shoulder and cries as Jennifer walks back into the room.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I believe thank you is the word you’re looking for,” she says sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. I hate this woman with a passion.
“I was following Lombardi. I had no idea he was coming for you.” She shakes her head as she looks at the smashed-up room. “We have enough evidence to clear your name, Enrico. I’ll organize a transfer back to Italy for you both first thing in the morning.”
I look down at the beautiful woman in my arms. “No.”
“No?” She frowns.
“I think I might like to stay dead for a little while longer.” I smile down at Olivia. “I promised my girl a holiday.”
Epilogue
Olivia
Four months later
The sea breeze blows through my hair, and I look into the big brown eyes opposite me.
Enrico and I are standing on the sandy beach outside our house. We’re as happy as happy can be.
It’s our wedding day.
I’m in a tight, crochet white dress with my baby bump proudly on display. My hair is down, and I have a yellow flower tucked behind one ear. Enrico is wearing white hippy clothes and is completely barefoot. It’s so unlike Enrico Ferrara.
But so Australian.
We had to change locations after Lombardi found us.
After the ordeal I went through, Enrico decided that he wanted to have more time alone before we went back to Italy. He wanted my pregnancy to be as stress-free as possible. At first, it was going to be for just one month. That then turned into two, two turned into three, and now here we are, living on an island just off the Australian North Coast.
Of course, our mothers know we are safe… but nobody else just yet. We’re flying completely under the radar.
Giuliano is in training, while Lorenzo is currently running Ferrara.
For now, we can stay where we are in our stress-free little bubble.
Alone and happy.
Without enemies, bodyguards, or family.
We have never had this in our relationship: time alone.
It’s so precious, and we are savoring every second together.
We talk, laugh, and lie in the sun. We make love endlessly. This time alone in our pregnancy is his gift to me, and we are so looking forward to our baby coming along in eight weeks.
Life is surprisingly… normal.
That is, until you see the mansion we live in. Enrico couldn’t live in any other type of home.
Luxury is who he is. He’s a Ferrara to the bone.
The priest continues, “Do you, Enrico Ferrara, take Olivia Reynolds to be your lawful wife?”
Enrico blinks back his tears, and I smile softly. He’s the most sentimental man I have ever known, and most definitely a far cry from the hardened mafia boss that everybody else knows.
I get the best of him.
His undying love and everything we have been through together has all been worth it to get to where we are right now.
To where we are supposed to be.
This isn’t how we planned to do things, but we’ve learnt that no matter what happens in the world, us being together is all that matters.
It’s important to him that we be married before the baby arrives. Today is our beach wedding. We will have a Catholic ceremony in The Pantheon when we get home to Italy.
Our sacred place.
“To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
Enrico gives me a broad, beautiful smile, and I melt. “I will.” He slowly slides the gold band onto my finger, and it’s my turn to blink back the tears.
“And do you, Olivia Reynolds, take Enrico Ferrara to be your lawful wedded husband?”
Enrico gives me a sexy wink, and I giggle despite my tears.
“To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I will.” I slide the thick gold band onto Enrico’s finger, and he smiles proudly.
“You may kiss your bride.”
We both laugh. Enrico leans in and softly kisses me. It’s full of emotion, love, and hope.
It’s perfect.
Just like him.
My love, my life, my Italian.
Two years later
The sound of the music floats through the air. I look around for my family. We are at a local fête. Or as we call it here… a carnival.
People are dancing in colorful costumes, and there are food stalls everywhere. The air is filled with laughter; so much laughter.
I see a little head bopping around up ahead, and I smile.
Enrico is standing and talking to three of his friends. Our son is high on his shoulders.
Romeo is two now, and he’s the spitting image of his father with big brown eyes, and dark hair full of curls. He’s also as smart as a whip and as cheeky as hell.
I stand and watch them for a while. Enrico has a hold of Romeo’s legs, and Romeo is laughing and dancing with another little boy who sits on his father’s shoulders while the men talk.
The other man says something, and Enrico throws his head back and laughs out loud. Romeo reaches down and pulls his hair.
Enrico winces in pain.
I laugh. This child is mischievous. He’s also the absolute apple of his father’s eye.
Enrico adores him.
I’m pregnant again—six months now—and healthy and happy.
Life’s good. It’s better than good. Amazing.
We’ll go back to Italy one day, but not yet.
Enrico wants all of his children to have this childhood. He misses Italy desperately, but not at the cost of his children’s safety and freedom.
He gets it now. He understands his father and why he did what he did. It took a long time, and he’s read that letter his father left for him many times over. But I know that, on many levels, he’s grateful that he didn’t know the finer details back then. He’s grateful that his father stayed with his mother for the sake of his children, and to be there for her.
We’re both grateful that we survived what we did.
Enrico’s eyes meet mine across the park and he says goodbye to his friends before he walks over to me. He bends and kisses me softly, and then takes my hand in his.
I look up to the little boy on his father’s shoulders.
“Ciao, amori miei! Sei pronto per tornare a casa, Romeo?” I ask. Translation: Hello, my loves. Are you ready to go home, Romeo?
“Si, mamma.” He nods.
Enrico reaches down and puts his hand over my stomach.
“Ti ho detto che sei bellissima oggi?” he asks. Translation: Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?
I giggle as I kiss his big beautiful lips.
“Una o due volte.” Translation: Once or twice.
We speak Italian at home now. It’s Romeo’s first language.
We make our way to the car.
“Dobbiamo fermarci all’ufficio postale andando verso casa. Il mio pacco è arrivato,” Enrico says. Translation: We have to stop off at the post office on the way home. My parcel has arrived.
I smirk. “Cosa hai comprato?” Translation: What did you buy now?
He gives me a sexy wink as he loads Romeo into the SUV.
Enrico still buys designer everything, he just does it online now.
I’m the best dressed woman in Australia.
You can take the man out of Italy.
You can’t take the Italy out of the man.
The End.
Ferrara - Coming Soon
Giuliano
I sit at the desk in Enrico Ferrara’s office.
He was murdered last week, and I don’t know why I’ve been brought here. I’m nervous that my mother made me come.
Does this have something to do with our fight last week at the library?
An elderly man sits down at the desk beside me, while two other men are sitting at the desk, also.
“My name is Lorenzo, and this is Andrea and Matteo.”
I nod. “Hello.”
Lorenzo exhales heavily. “There are some things that you don’t know, son. You have been protected up until now, but with the passing of Enrico Ferrara, you must be told of your heritage.”
I frown.
“Your father—”
“Leave my father out of this,” I snap.
He glares at me, unimpressed that I interrupted him. “Your father’s name wasn’t Lindon.”
I frown harder now.
“Your father was Giuliano Ferrara.”
“What?”
Lorenzo and the other men exchange worried looks.
“It’s a very complicated story.” He pauses as he searches for the right wording. “Giuliano, your father lived a double life—one with your mother and you, and one with his wife and their three children.” “What? That’s ridiculous!” I scoff. “He wasn’t married to someone else. You have the wrong man.”
“We don’t. These are your two brothers, Giuliano.” He gestures to the two men and they smile sadly. “Andrea and Matteo.”
My eyes flicker between the three of them. “You’re lying.” I stand abruptly.
Lorenzo stands, too, and he pushes me back into the chair. “Your other brother was murdered last week. His name was Enrico Ferrara.”
My eyes widen as I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears.
The floor moves beneath me.
“You have been left in your father’s will to take over management of the Ferrara family empire.”
My face falls. “It’s okay,” Andrea says softly. “You won’t be alone, Giuliano.”
“We will be here every step of the way to train you and to help you with the transition,” Lorenzo says.
I stare at him as the walls close in.
That means…
She’s my sister.
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading.
You are making my dreams come true.
Find me at tlswanauthor.com
Acknowledgments
There are no words meaningful enough to thank my wonderful team.
I don’t write my books alone. I have an army.
The best army in the world.
Kellie, the most wonderful PA on Earth.
You are amazing. Thank you for all that you do for me.
Keeley, not only are you an amazing daughter, but you’re now a wonderful employee. Thank you for wanting to work alongside me. It means a lot.
To my wonderful beta readers: Mum, Vicki, Am, Rachel, Nicole, Lisa K Lisa D, Nadia, and Charlotte. Thank you. You put up with a lot and never whine, even when I make you wait for the next chapter. How I got so lucky to have you come into my life, and to be able to call you my friends, I will never know.
