Diavolo (Devil’s Playground #1)

24. Chapter 24

24

Gazing into the gun's deadly barrel, Elyse's nerves pulsed along a razor's edge. Both hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Cara probably believed she held the upper hand. But Elyse wasn't going to let her win. In a roundabout way, her past as a surgeon had prepared her for this very moment. Elyse thrived in high pressure situations. Operating rooms often led to life or death emergencies that demanded solutions in a matter of seconds.

Fuck Cara .

Bitch could take her little mind games and go choke on glass. Elyse refused to die tonight. She wasn't about to let Alessandro die, either. Her will to survive kicked in, and another solution emerged. She took the briefest of moments to assess the playing field. Cara stood about three feet away from her while they were, at least, several hundred feet away from Alessandro. It seemed unlikely for the bullet to spare her at such close firing range, but it was possible that Cara might miss Alessandro. How good of a shot was the woman? Elyse didn't want to risk her husband's life on unknown odds. She was, however, willing to risk her life for a chance to save them both.

In the next second, Elyse chose to act, sprinting forward in a burst of speed and recklessness. It seemed to catch Cara off guard. Elyse swiveled away from the redhead's outstretched firearm and latched onto her opponent's wrist from the side. Her fingers tightened around the velvety sleeve of Cara's gown, digging sharply into the flesh underneath. Hurriedly, Elyse sank her teeth as hard she could into Cara's forearm until the other woman shrieked with pain and dropped her gun. Elyse held on until blood stained the velvet, and she tasted metal on her tongue. A stray bullet cracked through the air as the firearm clattered to the ground.

With murder in her eyes, Cara snarled at Elyse like a rabid beast, "Fottuta puttana!"

Elyse's shoulder stung a little, but she chose to ignore the pain. She stayed laser-focused, scrambling over to swipe the dainty L-shaped pistol before Cara could reach it. The weight of such a small weapon felt surprisingly heavy in her hand. Elyse gripped the handle firmly and dashed away from the veranda back to the ballroom. Loaded gun in hand, Elyse didn't know the first thing about handling a weapon. All she cared about was getting as far away from Cara as possible. Mariposa had been right. This bitch was fucking crazy . But maybe she was crazier. She could still taste Cara's blood in her mouth.

A large crowd gathered around the chaos like circling hyenas. Monte and Luca rushed onto the scene with their guns drawn. They aimed their barrels at Cara. Alessandro followed closely behind them with his weapon in hand as well. Pure, unadulterated fear and fury marred Alessandro's handsome features as he hastened to Elyse's side, eyes wide, brimming with relief, as he took in the sight of her as though she was an apparition.

"You are alive," he whispered hoarsely, "I-I thought..."

Before Elyse could find her voice, she felt wetness trickle down her arm. She glanced over to her shoulder. Rivulets of crimson trailed down her skin. Elyse's eyes grew wide as a series of disconcerting observations slammed into her. Her shoulder was bleeding. Cara tried to kill her. She could've died.

" Mierda ," Elyse muttered under her breath.

Alessandro's gaze locked onto her shoulder as well. He demanded, "How badly are you hurt?"

Elyse answered after taking a moment to assess the damage, "Don't worry. The bullet only grazed me."

She used her hand to apply pressure to the wound. Elyse then handed Cara's gun to Alessandro. He glared at the weapon for a good, long moment as though it was a vile, cursed thing. Then, he tuck the gun inside his blazer. Cara's moment of madness seemed to set off a switch inside him. Alessandro's eyes flickered peculiarly. His demeanor suddenly withdrew into a void-like state. Emotions were wiped clean. The abruptness of this shift was more than a bit frightening. Was he upset with her? Elyse eyed him with trepidation. Wheels were clearly turning in his mind. Alessandro glanced over to Monte and Luca. He ordered, "Portala in macchina. Adesso." Take her to the car. Now.

Monte and Luca ran over to collect Elyse, using their bodies to shield her from the other guests. They started herding her away, but she resisted them.

"Hold on," she insisted, "I want to see how this plays out."

Elyse twisted her head around to keep her eyes on her husband. Her heart thrummed with fear. Blood continued to drip down her arm. Alessandro's soulless gaze was now fixated on Cara. His voice sounded eerily calm when he addressed his old lover, " Sai che questo significa guerra ."

Elyse strained to understand his Italian.

Something about war?

Tears began to trail down Cara's face. " Non volevo farlo, amore mio.Domenico me l'ha fatto fare ."

Were they talking about Domenico Berlusconi, Cara's brother?

" In ogni caso, non mi interessa.Ecco la mia risposta. Fanne ciò che vuoi ."

Do with this what you will?

Elyse wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. She'd missed the first part of Alessandro's response. Then, without warning, Alessandro raised his gun to Cara and pulled the trigger. Cara screamed bloody murder as the bullet nicked her shoulder in the exact same spot where she had marked Elyse. An eye for an eye. Gasps filled the ballroom.

He remarked, " La prossima volta non mancherò ."

Chills ran down Elyse's spine as she registered the full meaning of her husband's words.

Next time, I won't miss.

Monte and Luca started ushering her toward the front door again. Elyse let them guide her away. The heightened, numbing spike of adrenaline from her earlier tussle with Cara had faded. Senses returned to normal. Her arm was beginning to sting like a motherfucker. She needed to disinfect the wound and bandage it up. Pain shot up and down her arm in surges of discomfort. All of a sudden, though, Elyse's attention snapped back to her husband and the redhead. Cara was screeching again. The pain seemed to unlock something mutinous and broken in her. She switched to English, spitting at Alessandro loud enough for Elyse to hear, "You shot me over that stupid American bitch? Is it because she speaks English? Is that why you married her? Ever since your father sent you away to England, you have obsessed over their fucking language . Well, I can speak English, too!"

"No need to be so dramatic."

"How could you choose her over me, my love?"

"Because you are no longer useful to me."

"Did you ever love me?"

"You know I am not the kind of man who believes in love."

"Kill me, then, if you are man enough!"

Monte and Luca led Elyse around a corner into the hallway. She could no longer see Alessandro or Cara, but she could still hear them.

" No ."

"Why not?"

"You are worth more to me— alive . For now."

"What about your wife?"

"What about her?"

"It does not bother you at all that I tried to kill her tonight?"

"I only care that you disrespected me through her."

The indifference in his tone wrenched Elyse's heart. Was Alessandro bluffing to maintain appearances? Or was there some truth here?

"That is all?"

"That is all."

Elyse walked down the hallway alongside Monte and Luca. With each passing step, Alessandro and Cara's voices faded more and more.

"You do not care for your pretty doctor? There were rumors. I assumed you might have married the bitch for love."

"That is where you are mistaken. I married my wife because she is a Graviano. My allegiance always lies first with the cosca . Not a woman."

This chilling declaration was the last Elyse heard as she exited the villa with Monte and Luca. It held an echo of Valentina's advice. She didn't know if Alessandro had been speaking out of leftover anger from their fight. Or if he genuinely meant every word. Regardless, it fucking hurt to process everything. Or maybe the pain from the wound was finally getting to her.

Nils pulled up in their car. Elyse winced when Monte and Luca helped her into the vehicle. She sat alone, nursing her shoulder, for ten minutes before Alessandro joined her. Once her husband slid into the backseat, he handed her several clean towels. "For you."

"Thank you," Elyse grunted as she pressed them to her injury.

Alessandro studied her with the same unreadable expression that he had worn inside the ballroom. Their eyes found each other. For several drawn-out beats, he simply stared her down without uttering a sound. She felt uneasy under the weight of his gaze. "Yes?"

Finally, Alessandro reached over to clasp her hand. Her husband's touch felt warm and familiar, but his words from moments ago still left her chilled inside. My allegiance always lies first with the cosca. Not a woman.

"I almost lost you tonight," he stated in an almost inaudible whisper.

Her heart throbbed thickly in response. This was true. Cara nearly sent her to an early grave. Elyse paused. "But you didn't. I'm still here."

Alessandro signaled to Nils to head home. As the car started to move, he scooted closer to her. "This can never happen again. I was too fucking careless."

Elyse's mind began to spiral. First Carmen. Now Cara. These women were truly psychotic. Elyse felt like she was going insane as well. She tried to reassure herself by reassuring him, "No one could've predicted Cara's intentions tonight. What matters is that I survived."

We survived . Elyse realized, then, that she had put herself in the line of fire for this man. The same man who, supposedly, only thought of her as a Graviano, as a means to an end.

"I made you a target when I married you."

The Mancinis crossed her mind. "I already had a target on my back before I became your wife."

Alessandro sighed. "I—"

She probed, "What?"

He looked away and didn't answer her. Alessandro didn't say another word for the rest of the drive. He simply held her hand, tightly, desperately, as his thoughts seemed to drift away from her reach. What the hell was going through her husband's mind? Alessandro's cold detachment was such a contrast to his optimism mere hours ago. Before their heated quarrel had driven him away. Sword and shield? What a sad, pitiful joke. All it had taken was a crazy bitch with a tiny gun to sever their bond. After tonight, the Vitales' alliance with the Berlusconis appeared good as dead as well.

They were still holding hands when Nils pulled up to their palazzo, but Elyse had never felt more distant from Alessandro. Her heart sank. Her shoulder ached. Her mood darkened even more. How were they going to bring down their enemies in this sorry, divorced state?

As Alessandro and Elyse walked into the grand foyer of their palazzo, Malina was waiting for them, wringing her hands anxiously. The moment the housekeeper noticed Elyse's red-stained towels, she hurried over with worried eyes, exclaiming, " Signora Vitale! Your shoulder!"

Elyse winced. "Don't worry, Malina. I'll be fine."

"Come with me," the older woman offered, "I will help you—"

Alessandro interrupted the housekeeper, "No need, Malina. My wife is hurt. I will be the one to assist her."

Malina's pale blonde eyebrows rose in approval. "Of course, Signor Vitale ."

Elyse and Malina's eyes met briefly. The two women shared a speculative, conspiring look before the latter bowed out. As Malina's form retreated down the marbled hallway, a wave of lightheadedness overtook Elyse. The blood loss was getting to her. She swooned and stumbled a little. Instantly, Alessandro's hands came to her waist to steady her.

"I'm alright," Elyse mumbled as she righted herself, slipping from his grasp. "Thanks."

His eyes lingered on her, but, still, he said nothing. Together, Elyse and Alessandro retreated to the master bedroom. The strain and tension from their ride home continued to thrum from her husband. Once they reached their room, Elyse tried to block him out and let her medical training take over. Her injury was now throbbing quite painfully. Upon closer inspection, it appeared her graze wound featured a proximal corner with faint stippling, stretching almost two inches and one-sixteenth of an inch deep. Again, the damage wasn't too serious in light of everything else that could've gone wrong— like getting her brains blown out —but it needed to be sterilized and bandaged up to prevent infection. Alessandro cleared his throat.

"Sit," he said to her, nodding toward their bed, "and tell me what you need me to do."

"Can you get my medical bag?"

He immediately went to retrieve it. In layman's terms, she proceeded to walk him through each step. Alessandro helped Elyse disinfect her shoulder and apply the gauze. Through it all, her husband remained quiet. Intensely focused. He kept his touch meticulously gentle on her raw-looking pinkish, reddish, fissured laceration, wincing every time he made her wince as though it stung him, too. Alessandro then assisted Elyse in getting undressed. His hands and palms and fingers grazed her bare skin. Even while her green dress puddled to the ground, there was nothing sexual in his touch, only warmth and tenderness. He helped her to bed, and climbed in beside her.

At this time, her husband reached for her hand again, clasping it tightly in his palm. His other hand danced around her body, touching, feeling, but, again, not in a lustful manner. He avoided his favorite parts of her body—breasts, nipples, inner thighs. If anything, her husband only seemed to be seeking comfort? Elyse's brow creased at this turn. Was Alessandro ready to talk about their argument? And everything else that had gone to shit tonight?

She decided to try him. "Are you still... upset?"

" Sì ."

"With me?"

" Sì ."

At least, he was honest. She whispered shakily, "What can I do to make it up to you?"

Desperation clung to her voice. Alessandro rolled toward Elyse, taking care not to hit her injured shoulder. "Can we not tonight?"

Pain flashed across Elyse's face. "Alessio..."

His expression grew tight as well. "Go to sleep."

"But—"

" Per favore ."

The plea in his voice nearly broke her.

"Fine," she relented sadly. "You win."

" Grazie ."

Alessandro turned down the lights. For over an hour, they shuffled and shifted awkwardly beside each other, communicating their pent-up stress and unresolved emotions through movement, not words, until a restless slumber finally drew them into its fold.

Four days dragged by in this tense, strained manner. During this time, the more Alessandro pulled back from Elyse, the less she knew how to bridge their divide. Elyse had never seen her charming, attentive husband hold himself in such an unreachable way. They lived under the same roof and slept in the same bed, but the pair of them might as well have turned into strangers. Alessandro saw to his affairs with his men. Elyse saw to hers, learning her new duties alongside Malina and the household staff.

Every time Alessandro glimpsed Elyse's shoulder, a frown would deepen across his face and his mood would turn heavy and pensive. Yet, ironically, it was her injury that brought them together each day. They only spoke when he helped to redress her bandages.

"Does it still... hurt?"

"It's getting… better."

"Good. I am... relieved."

These short, clipped conversations between them left much to be desired and even more unsaid. Each in their own miserable way, husband and wife seemed stuck, caught, and paralyzed by the barrage of nerve-wracking events that had transpired since their wedding. Death, violence, and unrest loomed over their consciousness.

Alessandro's stoic, rigid demeanor didn't give way until day five when Elyse's wound was mostly healed and scabbing over. That evening, something seemed to snap in him. Alessandro joined Elyse, unannounced, in the middle of her shower. She was stunned to see him, but she didn't send her husband away. As hot water hit their naked bodies and steam lifted around them, Alessandro pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely. Consumingly. Their bodies knew each other in a way their minds and hearts had yet to master.

Breathless and dazed, they touched and fondled and teased one another with an intimate frenzy that somehow felt like anguish and bliss rolled into one. Their hands roamed everywhere. Sweet, soft curves rubbed up against hard, solid muscle. She gripped his cock. He teased her clit. Moments later, Alessandro hauled Elyse out of the shower, still dripping wet, and tossed her onto their bed.

This time, there was very little foreplay or finesse in his seduction. Alessandro quickly slipped on a condom, shoved her legs wide open, and drove himself home. His cock thrust into her too fucking hard and too fucking fast. Elyse whimpered as he pounded her ceaselessly. The brunt force of him heightened the slick, maddening friction between them. Every balls-deep thrust was felt to her core, ramming away until it grew to be too much, too much, too much , yet, somehow, still not enough . Pain and pleasure crackled through her body, scorching her senses. Elyse's eyes rolled back, squeezing shut, as her hips struggled to snap and roll in time to his feverish rhythm, chasing after their fast-approaching climax as though their lives depended on it.

Alessandro seemed to be pouring every ounce of his soul into this glorious, manic fucking as though he might be able to fuck away the tension and heartache that had plagued them these past few days. His large body caged her. Hard muscle tensed and strained all around her. Her hands snaked around his neck as he bent down to kiss her. Then her hands drifted away. Boldy, Elyse explored his scars, lingering on the star-shaped wound that adorned his stomach, and stroked his wrist, tracing the winged blade he'd inked in her honor. He kept kissing her through every intimate touch and every adoring caress. His mouth and tongue felt like velvet and sin on her lips, tugging and pulling and tasting until she could barely draw breath. Her head swam with the delirium. Euphoria radiated from her core. Elyse had never felt more alive.

She came like a tempest. He came like a storm. Together, they became chaos incarnate.

Afterward, Alessandro rose from the mattress to toss away his condom. He returned to bed a short while later. He folded her into his arms. She rested her head upon his chest.

"I missed you," Elyse whispered over the thud of his heartbeat.

"I know."

"Is that all you have to say to me?"

" No ."

She waited for him.

"I cannot lose you," Alessandro stated. "That is what I have come to realize these past few days."

A tremor of hope rose inside Elyse. "You're not angry anymore?"

"I do not know if I was ever angry with you," he sighed.

"Then... why did you distance yourself from me?"

He hesitated before answering, "I needed to think."

There was another lull on his end. She waited some more. Alessandro continued with a grim expression, "That night, when the gun went off, I looked over and saw you with Cara on the veranda. My heart fucking stopped . Hell, even now, I cannot breathe whenever I replay that moment in my mind."

Elyse reached over to caress his cheek. "But I'm fine. I'm alive. I didn't die."

Alessandro gazed at her. For the first time ever, her man looked utterly helpless, lost. "Not this time, but what about next time? I did not know it would be like this. I thought... I could keep you safe."

"I am safe."

His jaw clenched, unclenched. "My authority as capo is being challenged left and right. I am ashamed to admit it, but you have married an incompetent man, Signora Vitale ."

Elyse frowned worriedly. "What are you talking about?"

Her husband was beginning to look as though he had lost his shine. Alessandro gave her a sad smile. "I had my men look into some matters for me these past few days. Everything is clear now. Carmen's party was merely the first strike. But Mariposa's party was a declaration of war."

Elyse demanded, "Who's trying to start a war?"

"Carmen and Domenico."

"What?"

Elyse's frown deepened as her mind began to work. Was Alessandro suggesting that Carmen had secretly aligned herself with Domenico Berlusconi He explained further, "They used Cara to threaten you. To hurt me. You are my weakness . Carmen knows it. Domenico knows, too."

An unsettling suspicion rushed over Elyse. It soon transformed into a bombardment of eye-opening realizations. To start a war, one needed to fan the flames. Insurrections could only spark after the firing of the first shot. Had Cara's overdose been a ruse? To give the Berlusconis a reason to break their alliance with the Vitales? It seemed Carmen and Domenico intended for Cara to die that night. Elyse's stomach churned with disgust at this possibility. If it proved true, she'd stomped all over their plans by saving Cara. Was this why they sent Cara to kill her at Mariposa's party?

Anxiously, Elyse ventured to ask, "The Berlusconis never wanted to make peace with us, did they?"

"They are out for blood," Alessandro confirmed quietly. "I believe Domenico intends to challenge me. He wants to be capo . And Carmen is now allied with him."