Alphonse shifted his gaze to me as he pulled away from Dante. “Nico Moretti.”
“The one and only,” I responded.
“And who’s your friend?” He tipped his chin toward Luca, who stood slightly behind me.
“I’m Luca. Nico’s cousin,” he replied, unflinching under Alphonse’s scrutiny.
“Hmm.” He nodded before shifting his focus to Dante. “Why does it seem this isn’t a friendly visit? If my supposedly dead friend brought the Chicago don to my doorstep, it means things cannot be good.” His expression tightened, furrows carving into his forehead. “I hope you’re not bringing his bullshit into my home.”
Dante exhaled slowly. “We need your help, but I need you to keep your head.”
“Don’t talk to me like I need training wheels.” The muscles in his jaw tightened as if he was fighting to keep his temper in check. The air crackled with tension with the potential for an explosion. “You know me better than that.”
Dante swallowed hard, the tension coiling tighter in the room. “It’s about Angelica.”
“What about her?” Alphonse’s features hardened into a mask of stone.
Dante took a shallow breath. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but…she’s dead, Al.”
“I’m aware of that,” he stated firmly, gathering his composure as if recalling a painful memory that was too hard to bear.
We all froze at his words.
“Wait. What? You knew?” Dante questioned.
“Yes,” Alphonse replied, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “As you may recalled, I orchestrated a decoy, involving four of my most loyal men, believing it would draw the attention away from her father, but it didn’t work.” Alphonse shook his head. “Her father’s men...were ready and killed them all. She never had the chance to escape.”
Dante stared, his brow furrowed. “Is that why you never contacted me with updates? Because you thought she was dead?” he asked.
Alphonse nodded. “Not only that, but I thought you and your brother were also dead.”
“No, Al. You were given misinformation,” Dante insisted.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Alphonse shot back. “Just spit out whatever the hell you were going to say.”
“She lived, Al.”
“You lie,” he accused, his voice rising.
Dante held his gaze, his expression solemn. “I would never lie to you Al. Not about this. Not about her.”
Alphonse’s chest heaved. “But the decoy...” he whispered. “None of my men survived to tell me if you, Malik and Angelica made it out safely.”
“The decoy worked,” Dante stated.
Alphonse’s breath hitched. “What are you saying?”
“We had a secondary contingency in place,” Dante explained. “Your men noticed several of her father’s guards following the decoys, so at the last minute, Malik arranged a more secure, less obvious route for them to take. That diversion was just the trick to throw the guards off their trail.”
“She was alive?” Alphonse’s tone turned frigid, demanding.
“Yes. Angelica… she made a life for herself in Canada just like you wanted.”
“What happened to her?” Alphonse hissed.
Dante stepped back. “They found her, Al. And they…” He choked on the final words, tears welling in his eyes. “She was murdered this past spring. I’m so sorry, Al. I’m so sorry.”
Alphonse reared back, his expression shifting as if the ground beneath him had crumbled. It was clear that Gigi’s mother had meant everything to him, and losing her had carved a deep wound that would never truly heal.
