I should have known.
I grind my teeth as I shake with rage.
He’s fucking responsible.
“Who is he?” Dom asks, staring at me.
“He was Cecilia’s friend. I met him once, on his birthday, at one of our nightclubs. He drugged her that night.” I flash my eyes towards Lorenzo, gaging his reaction at what I confess. “I tortured him that night for what he’s done, but I didn’t kill him because he was Cecilia’s friend. It was all well within code. We are allowed to kill rapists. We don’t stand for men who hurt women,” I defend myself.
But Lorenzo isn’t angry.
“I don’t blame you. If someone did that to my wife, I’d have murdered them slowly and painfully. It is true to our code. We would kill even our own for a crime as heinous as rape. But we didn’t know this occurred until yesterday. Leonardo never mentioned it. But he’s been acting differently for months. Disappearing, unfocused, distracted. We didn’t know why.” Lorenzo looks up at me.
“He’s been obsessed with enacting revenge on you. We went to his apartment yesterday, and it was covered in images of youand of Miss Álvarez Rivera. He’s been following you two for months. Tracking you. Compiling a pretty damning case against you. And not all of it is false.” Lorenzo shoots me a disapproving glare, and I know he knows the lengths I went through to keep and protect Cecilia.
“What does this have to do with Cecilia disappearing?” I growl, already knowing the answer.
“Leonardo compiled enough damning evidence to convict you, then grabbed her that day. He exposed everything about you to her, effectively scaring her.” Lorenzo sighs and runs a hand through his grey tendrils.
“What does he mean, Roman? What did you do?” Dom demands. “I know you didn’t tell her about the Syndicate, but was there anything else?”
Lorenzo raises an eyebrow at me.
“Besides torturing Leo, I also may have been the one to orchestrate the robbery on her apartment. But she wasn’t supposed to be there. He came at the wrong time.” I pause. “I also confronted her boss and demanded he fire her after he sexually harassed her. It was for her safety,” I confess, and Dom’s gaze darkens.
“He also blamed you for the drugging that night and claimed you tortured him out of jealousy. He claims you threatened her roommate to comply with you. And the Bratva member that robbed her, he showed her a picture of the body with your signature. It was pretty damning,” Lorenzo explains.
I feel sick as the pieces fall into place. She fucking left because that bastard framed me as a monster. Which I am, but not to her.It’s his fucking fault.
“He gave her a new ID as Emily Ricci.” I see red at the thought of her with his last name. “He also gave her twenty-fivethousand dollars, then dropped her off at the bus station. They’ve been in contact ever since.”
“Where did he get twenty-five thousand dollars?” Dom asks.
Lorenzo chuckles darkly.
“The stronzo stole from us. From his famiglia. To exact revenge on you, Roman,” Lorenzo’s voice reveals his fury. “He is no longer welcome to us.”
“Where is he? I need to find him!” I growl.
“I will hand him over. We have exacted our revenge on him, and while we normallydeal withtraitors personally, due to the unconventional circumstance, we’ve decided to give him to you,” Lorenzo says.
“Thank you, Lorenzo,” Dom says, standing up, and offering his hand. “How can we repay you?”
Lorenzo shakes Dom’s hand.
“By stopping the unnecessary violence against other families. If you’ve caused a war, we want no part of it. And since you are solely to blame, we cannot side with you. But we refuse to side with the Russians. You must make amends and restore a treaty with them. I will not stand for any casualties of my people,” Lorenzo says.
He dips his head at me and walks himself out.
Dom turns to me, his earlier calm transforms to fury.
“You almost started a war with our worst enemies over something you are at fault for!” He seethes.
“It was a misunderstanding. After what happened to Margot, it was a logical conclusion!” I defend weakly, knowing I fucked up.
“A misunderstanding? Unacceptable. Now I have to fix your mistake!” he spits out. His eyes bore into me as the severity of my mistake sinks in.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter words I never say. I never apologize. But I know he needs to hear it.
