Cassio
What the actual fuck.
“You stabbed her in the chest?”
“I wanted to crack her chest open to pry out her heart and force feed it to her,” Ana growls. She’s standing stiffly by my side as I scrub blood from her hands in the kitchen sink, having returned only moments ago. “She’s lucky I nicked an artery and she died quickly.”
The feral glint in my wife’s eyes stirs something deep inside of me, something I need to ignore so that I can clean up her mess. A public murder is never ideal, and Ana has apparently just committed one.
I knew something was wrong as soon as Armani called me, before they had even made it back to the penthouse. I assumed Ana got upset and wanted to leave early, or that they didn’t feel the building was secure enough to stay. I never would have guessed that Ana took it upon herself to end some socialite’s life. Luckily, Colton and Armani were quick to react, pulling her out of the building and beginning the cover up process.
“What did she say to you?”
“You don’t want to know,” she rasps. “I don’t want to repeat it.”
“My father and Apollo are on their way,” I tell her instead of prying. She’ll tell me when she’s ready, or I’ll find out another way. “You’ll need to talk to them, to give them details so they can handle this.”
Her gaze becomes vulnerable as she peers up at me. “Am I going to be arrested?”
“No,” I don’t hesitate to answer. “You don’t need to worry about that, I promise.”
She breathes out, letting my vow sink in.
“Are you okay, forza?” I ask softly, beginning to dry her hands. She’ll need a shower, but at least her hands are mostly clean. “Killing for the first time can be very difficult for some.”
Our eye contact breaks as she drops her gaze to the floor. “I don’t think this is the first time I’ve killed someone.”
Her words are so quiet that I almost don’t hear them, but she sounds utterly defeated as she mutters them. I don’t know whether she’s ashamed to admit it, or fearful of how I might react.
Lifting her chin with my fingers, I tilt my head. “Why do you think that?”
“Memories,” she mumbles. “They’re fuzzy—like they’ve been buried deep for a long time. But today seems to be bringing them to the surface. I think this has happened to me before. Losing my temper and… I didn’t remember, Cassio, I swear.”
“Hey, it’s all right—”
“I wouldn’t have married you without telling you if I knew,” she interrupts, eyes swimming with emotion. “You shouldn’t be saddled with a killer basket case. You didn’t sign up for this.”
“Don’t say that,” I snap, pinching her chin between my fingers. “Stop acting like I should be upset or fucking disgusted, Ana. You killed someone, you may have killed more in the past. So fucking what? You think I haven’t delivered more souls into the afterlife? I guarantee my body count is higher than yours, Wife. Want to compare?”
“How can you be so okay with this?”
“Because I know you,” I insist, moving to cup the side of her face. “If she said something so vile you don’t even want to repeat it, she clearly deserved exactly what you gave her.”
“I shouldn’t have made a scene,” she argues, frowning. “Now you have to take care of another one of my messes. Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Not even fatigued, Wife. You think I can’t handle you?”
“You’re crazy for even wanting to,” she breathes.
“Then call me crazy, baby.” My forehead drops to hers. “Cause more mayhem, I won’t even blink. I don’t give a shit if you drop more bodies as long as it doesn’t hurt you, Ana.”
“It doesn’t. That’s the problem isn’t it? It should hurt me. Normal people don’t feel indifferent about killing someone.”
“You don’t feel entirely indifferent,” I point out. “Otherwise you wouldn’t feel bad about not feeling bad.”
“God, I’m a mess.” Ana sighs, tilting her head to lay on my chest.
“My mess.”
Kissing the top of her head, I rub up and down her arms, trying to assure her further that she has nothing to fear from me. I won’t reject her or show a single sign of distaste after what she’s done. Something tells me the woman she killed made a comment about me or our relationship, and Ana’s fierce reaction only captivates me further.
“Do you know why Cole liked me so much?” she whispers, her head lifting to show me that her eyes have shifted to appear cold and haunted. “He knew that deep down… I was a killer just like him. He saw it in my eyes, and he was right. I don’t care that she’s dead, I’m glad I ended her.”
“You say that like it scares you.”
“I don’t like it,” she admits. “I don’t know who I am, Cassio. I think this is why we started the memory sorting and disassociation lessons. I don’t think it was just to help me clear my head from overwhelming information. I think Cole helped me bury the parts of myself that I couldn’t stand to remember.”
My poor girl, she’s so confused right now. Wrapping her up tight, I pull my wife into my chest and hug her hard.
Her next words muffle into my chest, but I hear them loud and clear. “I don’t want to forget this, I need to remember what I’m capable of.”
“I don’t want you to bury anything, forza. I want you exactly how you are. You don’t need to be afraid of yourself, or scared to make mistakes. I’ll always be right here to pick up after you.”
“You mean it?”
“Baby, until you started to look sad, I was seconds from kissing the fuck out of you. I like all the parts of you, feral murderous ones included.”
Her breath hitches. “Yeah?”
“Fuck yeah,” I agree, kissing the top of her head. “Why don’t you go shower off and I’ll make sure everything is set for my father’s arrival, okay?”
I reluctantly let her go when she agrees, and prepare to address my capo. As much as he is my father—and a good one—Dante Moretti is also my boss. He will neither yell or punish me or my wife, but our meeting will likely be a bit formal. We have rules for a reason, and trying not to break them is expected.
By the time they arrive, Ana has showered, erasing all traces of blood from her body. She’s wearing a pair of black leggings and an oversized crewneck sweater, with her still-damp hair braided on one side of her head.
I’ve set up Killian’s office that I’ve been using for the past few weeks, and my father, Apollo, and myself bring Ana inside to discuss the matter at hand. She doesn’t seem as gloomy as she became in the kitchen, which is a relief. In fact, she looks a bit angry again. Likely still upset with the woman whose life she took.
Dad takes a seat in Killian’s chair while I sit across from him next to my wife, holding her hand for support. Apollo surveys the both of us with an assessing stare, but his composure gives him away. Everything is going to be fine. If it weren’t already handled, he would appear more agitated. Apollo hates when things are out of order, and most people would never pick up on his tells, but I’ve known the man my entire life.
“Take us through the events of today, Ana,” Dad requests, hands interlocked on top of the oak wood. “Don’t spare any details.”
Squeezing my hand to steady herself, Ana takes a deep breath and begins. She explains about meeting her old acquaintances, even giving notes about who the girls are and what their families do. She mentions the small talk, the donation made to the orphanage, sharing pictures of Sirius and more.
“And then Morgan opened her bitch mouth and said something she could never take back,” Ana mutters darkly.
“What did she say?” Apollo asks, pinning his deep gaze on Ana. I try to give him a warning glare, but he doesn’t spare me a glance.
Ana’s hand shakes and she flexes her fingers around my knuckles. “She made comments about Cassio being a widow. That I probably have him eating out of my hand by showing him any affection. And—” She stops, swallowing hard and flicking her eyes sideways to look at me.
“It’s okay,” I assure her, keeping my tone steady. “You can tell us.”
My wife nods and turns back to Dad and Apollo.
“She said that Isobel couldn’t do the one thing women were designed to do, and that if everything was in working order for me, Cassio and I would be fine.”
The echoed words of a dead girl don’t faze me, but something else does. The realization that Ana didn’t just kill a woman for insulting her or me or our relationship. She killed her for speaking ill of my deceased wife. Of my child who only lived for minutes after his birth.
And it’s now, with full clarity that I understand Ana Moretti isn’t just my wife. I don’t just care for her. I love her.
Ana
Just relaying those hideous words makes my stomach churn. A hot tear begins to roll down my cheek, falling into my lap as my eyes drop. A crack of silence follows my story, and I don’t dare look up from my hands, staring down at them folded in my lap.
“I couldn’t let her get away with that,” I add in a rasp.
I didn’t know Isobel, but no one deserves to be spoken about in such a way. Especially not someone who matters so much to this family. Someone who they all lost tragically. Someone who Cassio…
I needed her to never be able to say another word again.
“Good,” Dante finally says, the word like a declaration of law. “That’s certainly worth the sizable check I had to cut to the governor.”
I blink, looking up at him in surprise. “You already handled it? Even before I explained…?”
The man smiles softly, blue eyes crinkling at the sides. “I take Moretti Blood Marriages very seriously, Ana. You became my daughter the day you said your vows to my son, and spilled your blood for him.”
My heart gives a funny beat.
“I didn’t expect that you would fill the role so quickly nor so perfectly but I’m glad to see that you have.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Cassio says, noticing my stunned silence.
“Apollo would like a word with you, Ana,” Dante tells him, his thick Italian accent lightening up with his soft tone. “If that’s all right.”
“Why?” Cassio demands, tensing by my side.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, patting his hand. “You know I’ll be fine. He’s your brother, darling.”
“Come on, Son,” Dante encourages, standing up to head for the door. “Share a drink with me before I have to go.”
“Do anything to upset her, and I’ll kick your ass.”
Dante chuckles at Cassio’s threat, but Apollo merely rolls his eyes.
“You could try.”
“Armani would join me,” my husband promises. Pressing a kiss to the top of my head, he follows his father from the room, allowing the door to shut behind him.
Apollo gives me an assessing look, not saying a word.
“You wanted to speak with me?” I ask awkwardly.
“Next time you want to kill someone for saying something you don’t like, agree with them.”
“W-what?” I stutter, not sure I heard him correctly.
He continues to look at me in a way that I can’t decipher. “Agree with them, bond with them, and then invite them to a private location. Once you’re secluded, then you kill them.”
“Oh.” I blink, processing the advice. “So, Dante isn’t mad at me, but you are?”
“I’m not mad,” he disagrees. “I’m taking care of you. What if she had a guard, hmm? What if someone shot you in retaliation? What if the wrong person caught you on camera?”
Guilt flushes up my neck and I frown. “I didn’t think that far ahead, I was just so furious…”
“Which is why you’re not being reprimanded. You think you’re the first Moretti to do something dangerous and illegal unplanned in public? You’re not. But now that you’ve done this, you’ll remember it. You’ll think before you act again. If Nico can restrain himself, so can you.”
My stomach clenches and my reply is a broken whisper. “You think I’m like Nico?”
First I’m like Cole and now this?
“Similar,” Apollo tells me with a shrug. He doesn’t comment on the scared tone of my question, merely answers it as he would anything else. “But no, not the same.”
Tears well but none fall as I blink them away.
“Being like Nico isn’t a bad thing, Ana.”
He has to say that. Nico is his brother, and he loves him.
Looking at the apparent despair on my face, Apollo sighs and rolls his neck. “I’m going to tell you this because you appear vulnerable and unnecessarily disappointed and I don’t like that.”
Swallowing, I meet his eye. “Tell me what?”
“Nico… Nico is my favorite brother.”
I did not expect that. In fact, I couldn’t have guessed he was going to say that if there were a million dollars on the line.
“He is?”
“Do you understand how special it is to kill without remorse? The vast majority of human beings have to be trained in order to take a life at all, and they tend to be riddled with guilt and regret following the act. Literal soldiers freeze on the battlefield before pulling the trigger and they’re actively under attack.”
Tilting his head, he pauses like he’s watching the information sink in through my eyes. “People like to think that the world is overflowing with evil, and it is, but they forget just how drastically normal almost everyone is. That’s why it’s called normal. Nico, like you, like me… we are not normal.”
I breathe out shakily, listening as Apollo continues to speak.
“Nico enjoys the kill. He thrives in a torture session, and he’s methodical even in his enjoyment of it. You don’t hesitate to kill, and you don’t feel guilty, but you worry about what that says about you.”
“And you?” I ask, voice wavering.
“I care about this family and nothing else,” he replies without blinking. “Nothing. Else.”
I don’t understand how, but Apollo seems to be making me feel better. Perhaps he’s right. Why should I feel shame for something that isn’t shameful in this family? I don’t live in the normal world, so maybe expecting myself to be normal is silly.
“Shouldn’t you not have favorites?” I blurt out suddenly. “How can you choose between so many brothers?”
Apollo laughs dryly. “Nico is my favorite brother because he’s somehow got a piece of all of us in him. He’s quiet like Remo, determined like Leon, brooding like Elio, charming like Emilio—even if he’s acting while he does it. He’s picky with his clothing like Armani, he’s calculating like Cassio, and despite his typically dark demeanor, he’s as sarcastic as Matteo. And like me, he doesn’t give a singular fuck about anyone outside of this family.”
So… Nico is his favorite, because he’s actually all of them?
Why is that incredibly sweet?
“He’s more than just an efficient and psychopathic killer. So, trust me when I tell you that being compared to him isn’t something that should concern you. You should feel proud of it.”
Maybe one day I will.
Clearing my throat to avoid getting too emotional, I stand up and nod slowly. “But just between us,” I start, trying not to grin. “Jade is my favorite brother.”
Apollo huffs. “I take it back. You’re not Nico, you’re Matteo.”
A spirited laugh bursts from my lips.
I think I’m going to enjoy being a part of this family.
Ana Moretti does have a lovely ring to it.
