When She Unravels: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Fallen Book 1)
When She Unravels: Chapter 19

Martina’s doing something on her laptop in the kitchen when I emerge from the secured room where I left Ale. Her earthy scent is all over my hands, and I resist the urge to take one big inhale before I wash my hands at the sink.

My gut told me she’d make me fucking crazy. Maybe it’s time I start listening to that particular organ more.

“What are you working on?” I ask casually, as if there isn’t a half-naked woman currently strung up a dozen feet below us.

She’s down there, in pain. The thought of it sends a crawling sensation over my skin.

“Nothing,” Martina says.

“Have you found a culinary program yet?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

I eye her as I dry my hands. She spent four years trying to convince me to let her go abroad for college only for her to scrap that entire plan after her abduction. She was supposed to move to England at the end of the summer. Now, there’s no chance of that. Mari didn’t even fight me on it. She hasn’t been herself since she came back. My sister’s got a gentle heart, and the death of her friend traumatized her, so I know she feels safer staying here with me. But I also know college was a dream of hers.

I keep telling her to replace a good online program, but each time, she shrugs me off. I’m worried. It’s like she’s lost her spark. Cooking used to be her favorite thing, but she hasn’t made anything since she returned.

I don’t know what I can do to help her heal. But making sure that the man who took her is dead feels like a step in the right direction.

I walk over to look at her laptop and steal a piece of cheese off her plate. “Let’s look together.”

“What about the woman?”

“Mari, forget her, okay?”

She looks down at her hands. “I just… Well, she said she could explain. She did help me, Dem.”

“I know she did. But that doesn’t mean she’s guiltless, or that she’s not still helping whoever took you.” Ale knows who’s responsible for what happened, but she won’t tell me. If she was innocent and on the run, why would she hold that information back?

Our conversation its interrupted by a knock on the front door. “That’s probably Ras,” I say.

She nods and folds her laptop under her arm. “I’ll be up in my room. Nadia left dinner in the fridge, so I was thinking of warming it up in a bit. Are you going to be here?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know once I talk with Ras.”

“Okay,” she says. “Maybe we can bring some down to her too. She needs to eat.”

“I suppose she does.”

My sister nods and heads up the stairs.

I unlock the front door with the fingerprint scanner. One look at Ras’s face, and I know he found something.

“Tell me,” I say as he steps across the threshold.

He takes a black leather passport case out of the inside pocket of his jacket and hands it to me. “This was in her new apartment, hidden between the sheets and the mattress. It’s her passport. The one she said got stolen.”

“That was easy,” I mutter as I crack open the booklet. It smells brand new, as if it’s barely been used. My gaze zeroes in on her name.

“Valentina Conte.” That last name doesn’t ring any bells.

“Married to Lazaro Conte. Lit up like a Christmas tree when we ran him through the databases.”

There’s only one man who can get us access to those systems that quickly. “Napoletano is helping you?”

Ras shrugs as we walk in the direction of my office. “I brought in the big guns since I know time is of the essence.”

I give him a grateful look. “Who is Conte?”

“The head enforcer of the Garzolo clan of New York. They’re one of five families originally from Sicily. She and Lazaro got married a few months ago. Valentina shot him a few days after their two-month wedding anniversary.”

I feel a perverse satisfaction at that. “Ouch.”

“The whole clan’s looking for her.”

Ras sits down in an armchair, and I walk over to the mini bar to pour us some whiskey. “Lazaro wants his wife back?”

“I don’t know if he’s alive or not. No one’s seen him since the incident.”

“Who’s leading the search?” I hand him his glass.

He takes it and meets my gaze. “Stefano Garzolo. The head of the clan. She’s his daughter.”

Well, fuck.

“You’ve got yourself a mafia princess.”

I down my whiskey in one big gulp. This situation is getting more complicated by the hour. “What are the chances she’s here on her father’s behest?”

“Zero. He wouldn’t send his own daughter here for a job. She’s far more valuable to him back home.

There’s a bitter tang inside my mouth. She wasn’t lying about being here on her own.

“I think she really ran away with only a passport and some cash to her name,” Ras says. “There was nothing else of hers in the apartment besides a small amount of clothes. The question is why?”

What made you run, Valentina? “She told me her family weren’t good to her.”

Ras makes a face. He’s not buying it. “She was born and raised into this life. It would take something drastic to make her leave everything and everyone behind.”

“Like having an enforcer for a husband? She must have been close to all the dirty work he did.”

“I doubt he brought many of his targets home like he did with Mari.”

“I don’t know about that. Mari said the basement looked like a torture room from the movies.” She’s never seen the real ones on this side of the world.

“Maybe Valentina couldn’t stomach sleeping by a man who murdered people a few meters below their bedroom.”

That could explain why she reacted so strongly to the incident with Nelo. It reminded her of what her husband did to people.

“Maybe.” I refill my glass and sit down across from Ras. “So where does this leave us? Why would the Garzolos take Mari? They don’t have any reason to have it out for me.”

Ras looks thoughtful as he swirls his whiskey around. “It could have been a favor for Sal.”

Did our don order the abduction of my sister? I’ve been asking myself this question since the moment I found out she was taken. My gut tells me yes, after all, he had a motive. He wants to keep me in line. But Garzolo’s involvement makes me pause. “Why would they grant him this favor? As far as I know, Sal has no relationship with them, business or otherwise.”

“We’re missing something,” Ras says. “Maybe it wasn’t Sal after all.”

Ras has been warning me all along not to jump to conclusions too quickly. I’ve made a few enemies during my life, but none that would dare do this to my sister. Sal is the only one who’d have the guts to try.

Ras puts his empty glass on the desk. “You should ask Valentina about what her husband intended to do to Mari. She has to know something that could put our doubts to rest. Is she still downstairs?”

“Yes. I left her tied up there,” I say. Shame blazes over my skin.

Ras shoots me an accusatory look and drags a hand over his cheek. “Dem, you can’t leave her like that.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want,” I snap, even as I fight my entire body not to march down there and let her down.

“Sure,” Ras says carefully. “But you might get more out of her by treating her well. She’s on the run, and over the past month, you’ve helped her get back on her feet. She has a soft spot for you. Exploit it to get the information we need. Figure out exactly why she ran and offer her protection from whomever she fears,” Ras says.

“Offer her protection?” I’d have to forgive her first to do that. Why didn’t she give me the truth about herself when I asked her? She had plenty of chances to tell me who she was. I gave her a job, an apartment, my affection, and my trust.

In return, she deceived me.

But she also saved my sister.

I press the heels of my palms against my eyes.

“If you don’t want to actually do that, fine. You just need to convince her the offer is real,” Ras says. “The moment you get her to believe you is the moment she’ll tell you everything.”

I drop my hands and look out toward the sea on the other side of the window. I could lie to her, get the information that I need, and then execute my revenge. Now that I know who she is, it would be easy. I could make Stefano Garzolo feel the pain I did by killing his daughter.

Bile rises to my throat. No. I could never do that. I could never kill her.

But I have to do what’s right by my sister.

I rise from my seat. “I’m going to go talk to her. See how she reacts when she replaces out I know her name.”

He gets up. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Tell Mari you’re staying for dinner.”

When I get down the steps and see Valentina where I left her, a strange cocktail of emotions drips into my bloodstream.

Self-loathing, mixed with frustration and lust.

She’s so absorbed with her task that she doesn’t hear me. Her face is angled up, and she’s pulling on the ropes at her wrists, her jaw tense with determination.

I grind my teeth. That knot is foolproof. The only thing she’s accomplishing is hurting herself.

Her shorts and underwear have slipped down from around her knees and pooled at her feet. Those fucking legs. I want them wrapped around my waist and holding on for dear life as I pound my cock inside of her. She was so wet for me earlier. I don’t know how I managed to keep myself from sinking right into her.

I run my hand over my mouth. Cazzo. What did I come down here for? I’ve never met a woman who made me forget about everything but her when she’s in front of me.

It’s a jarring realization. She made me neglect my responsibility to Mari, which is something that can’t happen again. My duty to my sister is the most important thing to me. I can’t let anyone distract me from that.

“The only way you’re getting out of that is if I let you.”

I startle her. She lets out a gasp and then follows it with a hurt look. She’s angry with me.

I deserve it for leaving her like this.

“Any idea of when that might be?” she asks.

Instead of answering, I move toward her until I’m invading her space. She glances down at herself and blushes. I follow her gaze. She’s embarrassed by her partial nudity. I decide to take pity on her.

When I lower to my haunches, her lips part. She reddens even more as I pull up her shorts and zip them up.

“Can you please let me down?” she asks. “My arms really hurt.”

Her wrists are bright red where the rope has rubbed against them. The sight of it makes me feel wretched.

I rise up and start untying the rope, schooling my features to hide all hints of the turmoil I feel at seeing her in pain.

Relief cascades over her expression. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Valentina.”

She makes a choked sound, as if the air she just inhaled suddenly turned dense inside her lungs.

I meet her frightened gaze. “Valentina Conte. I have to say, I prefer Valentina Garzolo. It has a noble ring to it.”

The knot comes apart, and as soon as her arms are free, she wraps them around herself. Her chest heaves with a heavy breath. “How?” she whispers.

“Your passport was inside your bed. You didn’t try to hide it all that hard.”

“I didn’t think anyone would search my place,” she says weakly. I swear, it’s as if she’s shrinking in on herself. My threats don’t faze her, but me knowing her real name appears to. Why?

“Lazaro… Is he alive?”

“I’m the one asking questions,” I say.

“Please, Damiano.” Her voice cracks. “Is he alive?”

When I nudge her chin up, I see tears pooling inside her eyes. Something squeezes hard around my ribcage. “I don’t know.”

She searches my face for a long moment and then sniffs when she seems to determine I’m telling the truth. A tear runs down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb. “Why did Lazaro take Mari? Don’t tell me you weren’t curious when your husband brought a girl you’ve never seen to your home. Start talking, Valentina,” I say.

I wait while she considers what to do.

She shakes her head.

I let out a loud sigh. “Fine. I’m confident I’ll be able to get it out of your father when I tell him I have his precious daughter.”

My words hit her way harder than I expect them to, and she starts to weep. Tears roll down her cheek and fall onto her shirt.

Seeing her so upset makes me want to die.

She’s breaking me down, and I know I can’t show it to her, but in the moment, I can’t resist. I tug her into my chest. She bucks against me for a short moment before giving in and crying into my shirt.

“I can’t go back. I can’t,” she says between sobs. “Please, please don’t do this.”

I’m fucking confused. She’s acting like me sending her back is a death sentence, but there’s no way that’s true. She’s the capo’s daughter. Runaway or not, she’s valuable to him. He’s not going to harm her.

I need to figure out what I’m missing.

When I run my hand down her spine, she nuzzles her face into my chest. That makes me feel something… Fuck. It’s not a sexual thing. Pity? Concern?

I pull away. “Tell me everything you know about what happened to Mari.”

Her teary face makes me hate myself. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know, which isn’t much. But you have to promise me you won’t send me back to New York.”

Can I promise her that? I don’t know. I have no idea what I’ll need to do after she tells me her secrets, so for now I have no choice but to lie. The lie doesn’t come quite as easy as I expect it to. I clear my throat. “If you give me what I need, I won’t send you back.”

She stares at me, but my face is an unreadable mask. If she’s looking for any hints that I’m lying, she won’t replace them.

Finally, she sniffles and nods. “My husband had your sister in the basement when I got home that day. She was knocked out when I got there, but she came about pretty quickly. I asked him why my father ordered him to take her. He said it was just a job. A favor. He said she was born with the wrong last name.”

The light in the room dims as outside the sun sinks past the horizon. I step forward, close enough to peer into her eyes. She’s not lying. Goddamn it, she’s not lying.

“The wrong last name?” I whisper. There’s a buzzing tension in my body, an aggression sparked by her hint and where it leads. “That’s what he said?”

“Yes. He called her a little Casalese mouse and said she had the wrong last name.”

My eyes widen.

“I swear, I don’t know any more,” she says.

It doesn’t matter. She’s given me all the answers I need.

I know who’s responsible for my sister’s abduction.