Fighting With Light (The Coldwell Brothers #2)

48. Aelia

48

Aelia

Ben and I sit on the plane next to each other. He’s no worse for wear. In fact, he looks… rested. We drove from California straight to Las Vegas, Nevada, and then grabbed a plane back to Boston. Ben hasn’t said a word, and I’m afraid to tell him to keep his mouth shut because he might just tell my dad everything simply out of spite. So I remain silent and let my mind drift to last night.

Liam carried me out of the water and straight to bed. He made love to me as if he was never going to see me again. My heart twists at the thought. He wiped my tears and I left my mark on him. We gave each other everything, so if it was goodbye, then it was the best we could have had. I told him over and over again I would come home to him, that this pain would be worth it, and the pain would heal.

I’m not sure he believed me, and I’m not sure I believed my own words, either. My father is unpredictable, especially when angry. It’s why I had to pull bullets out of my brothers because he sent them on a run they weren’t ready for. If he believes he has been wronged, then he will make sure everyone knows it. I’ve seen things that I don’t like thinking about and have buried deep. I know what he’s capable of.

***

Romeo was waiting for us at the airport. I hugged him tight and Ben assumed his quiet bodyguard duties. We ride in silence back home, and I mentally prepare myself for what I have to say. I know I have to come up with an excuse for why I was gone so long. Other than I’ve been seeing a man, which will make me look like a slut in my father’s eyes, but I don’t care. I will look any way I need in order to be done with him, and still keep my mother safe.

Romeo pulls up into the long curved driveway and parks the Bugatti next to the fountain. And they say crime doesn’t pay.

“He’s pissed, Aelia. Just tread carefully and don’t snap back. You know that always makes it worse.”

I nod and Ben opens the door for me. My feet pause and I look at him carefully, trying to judge what he’s going to do when that door opens. He looks me in the eye and dips his head once. Maybe that means his loyalty really is to me and not to my father. I guess I’m about to find out.

The front door opens and one of the henchmen steps to the side, allowing us in. I look to my right, Mom’s wing, and force my feet not to move in that direction. If my brothers were able to draw my dad’s attention away from her, the last thing I want to do is bring it back.

High heels click down the hall and into the sprawling Italian marble-floored foyer. There are two staircases on each side of the entry to the back of the house. The right staircase to the right wing of the house, the left to my father’s side. A super model-looking woman clicks into the foyer and she looks down her nose at me. She’s likely a prostitute that’s simply paid better and is good at organizing things. My father has had whores for most of my life. He was done with my mother long ago. But in my world, divorce is never an option. There are people on the side. Some don’t even bother trying to hide it, one of them being my father.

“Your father wants to see you and Ben upstairs in his office immediately.”

I squeeze my hands into fists, forcing myself not to flip her off. “Wow, whores are employed as part of the welcoming committee now. I wonder what else Marco Costa will come up with next!” I say in fake excitement.

She sneers and flips her hair, clicking back the way she came. I probably shouldn’t be so mean…it just slipped out. This place brings out the worst in me.

Ben stands silently beside me, and I glance at him one more time before I start climbing the left staircase. All I can do is pray now. I have a plan in my head. Let’s hope I can get away with it.

I walk down the hall to my father’s office, the third door on the right. It’s like a red door in my nightmares. As a child, just wanting to be closer to her father, I ran to him one day and threw the door open, only to find him with a woman who was not my mother. I ran away, leaving the door open and hearing his disgusting grunts all the way down the hall. It no doubt scarred me.

Another time, for some reason, my child mind decided I should try again, only I knocked this time. He told me to come in, and I walked in to find him with a knife at a man’s throat. He stared at me as his knife sliced through the man I had never seen before, and I watched in horror as blood poured from his throat as he gasped for air, and I just froze. My father wanted me to see what he did to people that crossed him.

At the time, Romeo was just walking past and grabbed me and took me to my room. But it was too late to protect me. That was the first time I had seen a man die, but it would not be the last in my twenty-nine years of life. I learned my lesson that his office was a place I never wanted to be ever again. So I never went back, but it didn’t matter because I saw more than any child should ever have to.

I lift my chin and force my hands to stop shaking and remember what I’m here for. There is a plan in place, and I have to complete my part of it, or Liam and I will never have what we have fought and bled for. I will not fail.

My knuckles rap on the door and I take one more deep, clean breath, letting the cold, calm apathy slip over me as if I’m underwater.

“Come in,” he commands.

I open the door, and Ben follows me inside, leaving it open. My father is wearing his classic four-piece suit, just like my brothers, and his dark Italian hair is slicked back to perfection. There’s a reason a parade of women have been in and out of this house. The Costa family is easy on the eyes. My father is a good-looking man and so are my brothers. My mother and I are the side pieces, but we are beautiful .

“Where have you been?” he spits.

I flip my nails back and forth, looking at the blood red on them. It felt fitting. “Around,” I sigh.

“Give me your phone,” he says.

“No,” I tell him. I haven’t had a chance to text Liam to tell him that I’m okay. I didn’t want to risk it in front of Ben or my brother. I haven’t had a moment alone since we left California. I’m sure he’s tracking it, but it won’t work if it dies.

“Now!” he yells.

I don’t have any other argument to give him, so I reluctantly hand it over, and he drops it on the ground. The screen shatters, and he takes the heel of his shoe and slams his foot down on it multiple times until it’s in pieces all over the floor. I force the bile crawling up my throat back down and try not to burst into tears. That was my only connection to Liam. I blink a few times and push the emotions down.

“Now that your distraction has been removed, look at me when I am speaking to you.”

I lazily drag my eyes up from the floor to him, and his expression says everything I need to know. He’s beyond pissed, and I get to be the punching bag. While he stews, I look around his office for where he keeps files. It’s not like he has a filing cabinet. He’s sneakier than that.

If he doesn’t have actual papers, he has photos, and anything that he does have that’s electronic can’t be accessed by the internet because it doesn’t have a power source. Floppy disks and USBs can’t be hacked unless given power, and those sit in the safe and I know I’ll never be able to crack that or have the time to figure it out, so I have to find another option.

There are expensive vases on the built-in bookshelves with books that I doubt he’s ever read. There’s a gun in a glass case proudly displayed and a gun sitting on his desk next to papers that I can’t read from here. I study the desk a little longer, wondering if there’s a false bottom on it like the movies .

“Look at me!” he yells. But before I can answer again, he sets his sights on Ben, who stands behind me. “Benjamin, do you have an answer? I requested a check in and I was ignored. Do you have an explanation for that?”

I open my mouth to answer for Ben because he legitimately doesn’t have the answer. When things got wild in Colombia, I forgot to do a check-in, and I know that’s where I messed up.

Then my father picks up his gun and fires. The bullet lands between Ben’s eyes, and he drops to the floor. It all happens so fast that it’s all I can do to keep my mask of total indifference. I didn’t like Ben, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him to die. His blood is on my hands now, and I have to carry that burden.

I take a deep, quiet breath and blink away the tears behind my eyes. I will not show weakness in front of this man. I step my Louboutins to the side from the growing pool of blood and lift my chin.

“You know what, Aelia, I don’t care where you were, but your days of gallivanting around the world, pissing me off, and wasting my money are over. The time has come for you to take a husband and solidify the strength of the Costa family.”

I look him in the eye and say, “No.” I’m surprised he’s not yelling at me for being with Liam. That just goes to prove that he never paid attention to me, except to make sure I wasn’t killing myself. However, that did cross my mind.

It would be the ultimate way to get back at my father, but then the longer I thought about it, the more I felt like that would mean he wins. I am a pawn in his eyes. But what he doesn’t understand is that I am a queen. I knock over every pawn in my path.

He scoffs and drops his gun with a thud. “An agreement has been made. This is your duty as my daughter. You knew this was coming, so prepare yourself because we are going to Italy next week for your wedding.”

Keeping my chin lifted and my hands loose at my side despite my heart thundering in my chest. “No,” I say again.

Spinning on my stiletto, I take a careful step around Ben and force myself not to look at his body, and leave my father’s office. At least I know where to start looking .

I walk down the hall to the east wing of the house to my mother and keep my steps confident. I can’t collapse yet. Not now. I know he’s either watching me or listening to my heels click on the wood floor.

Mom’s door is closed like it usually is, and I lightly knock and open it. The curtains are drawn, and I see her laying in bed, safe. A sob bursts from my lips, and I kick off my heels and slide into bed next to her.

Mia Costa is a beautiful woman, but her light has vanished. I wish that I could bring it back somehow. But I think the only way for that to happen is if my father is gone for good. Seeing the women and the violence she has over the many years as his wife has ripped her apart from the inside. He’s never laid hands on her, but he didn’t have to. These wounds cut just as deep as a slap.

“Mama,” I whisper.

Her bleary eyes open and barely focus on me. She probably took something to help her sleep. They droop again and I stare at her in the dark. There’s a nightlight next to her bed and the dim, yellow light highlights her sunken eyes and pale skin. Another needle goes into my heart, and I gasp at the pain. Those seem to hurt a little more than others. Silent tears fall down my face as I watch her sleep peacefully. One of the only places she doesn’t hurt.

I listen to every slow breath and make a plan to get into my father’s office. I can’t wait around, especially when I don’t know what to expect each day. Being a mobster is a twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week type of job. But he’s human, and he has to sleep. The question is when.

I end up falling asleep next to Mom, and I don’t think she even knows I’m here. I don’t know what time it is and look for a clock, but there isn’t one in her room. I bet she doesn’t even know what day it is. Carefully sliding myself out of bed, I tip toe to my room across the hall. It’s how I left it, with off-white walls, lavender purple comforter, warm wood furniture, and gold accents. My closet full of clothes is to my right and it connects to a large bathroom with tile that looks like mother of pearl tile in the shower and a freestanding stone tub.

The clock on my nightstand reads one in the morning. Hopefully, he’s asleep. I hurry into my closet and change into some pajamas. If I’m caught, I can just say I couldn’t sleep from the jet lag, and being in PJs will help sell it. My stomach rumbles and I sigh. Or I can just say I’m hungry because it’s true.

After changing, I wash my makeup off and quietly leave my room with the mini iPad I found in my desk barely charged, but enough to take pictures. I take a few steps and stop to listen. The house is quiet, but that doesn’t mean someone isn’t awake. My brothers are in the west wing and may likely still be up. I take a few more silent steps in my sock feet and listen. Still nothing.

Keeping my distance from my father’s office, I kneel down and check to see if the light is on between the floor and door. My heart feels like it’s beating so loud it’s going to give me away, but the light is off, and I think the coast is clear. Getting to my feet, I tiptoe as quickly and quietly as I can. Resting my ear against the wood, I listen for any signs of movement, just in case.

All is quiet so I hold my breath and open the door, wincing as it squeaks.

It’s dark, and he’s not in here. Phew.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I start looking for anything that could give us the evidence we need to put my father away forever. Before I reach for anything on the shelf, I study it to make sure I put it back exactly where I left it. My father is a very careful man, and I won’t take any chances.

After memorizing where everything goes and using the moon as my light source, I reach for the first book on the shelf and flip through it. It hilariously is the Bible. I don’t think my father has read this book a day in his life. Next is an old book in Italian. There are four more, also in Italian, and then the last few were on business, in other words, not helpful. I carefully drag my fingers over every shelf looking for a hidden button, false side or bottom, and nothing. I check the decorative vases and even around the gun on display. Nothing.

After that I look behind each picture on the wall. One of the safes is behind the picture, but I know it’s not an option.

As I set the picture exactly back where it was I hear a thump and freeze. Then it’s quiet again, it wouldn’t surprise me if one of my brothers, likely Alfie, has a woman over.

Feeling safe enough to keep looking, I check under the couch against the wall and the seats that sit in front of the desk—still nothing. The last place to look is the desk. He’s got to have something there. I start on the right and check all the drawers, which have mostly junk, some handcuffs, pens, blank paper, and loose bullets scattered throughout.

Next is the center drawer. I pull it out slowly and it creaks. I freeze and listen; maybe it wasn’t as loud as I thought it was. There was a notepad and some pens sitting in here, but that’s it. I pull those out and then skim my hand over every inch of the drawer. My finger catches on a little dip in the wood with a small hole only big enough to fit your finger in it.

I curl my finger gingerly, lifting the corner, hoping it’s not broken and there is something to find. I wiggle it a little, and the bottom pops out.

Using my iPad to give me more light, I shine it on a stack of five papers and a few large blown-up photographs. There’s even some tape that looks like fingerprints were lifted from something. That’s…interesting.

Carefully pulling the papers out of the drawer I read what’s on them and almost drop the iPad. I found it.