His Revenge (Smoke & Mirrors Duet #1)

Prologue

LEO

Memory

“At thirteen, I couldn’t tell you how to shoot a gun, but I could land a punch. Landing the punch is not as important as being able to take one”

S he was younger than me and while I was not a man yet by my father’s standards, I would have done anything to protect her. Claire was the light of my life and the only person that I truly got to be myself around. My father’s expectations did not touch our time together throughout the years. I understood that she was a secret from the rest of the world, but to me she was the sunshine on the horizon. My sister was the only hope I had for any real childhood, at least until that night. The night I defied my father and lost everything.

Her crimson hands were shaking as they gripped onto my white shirt like a lifeline in the night; as if she would die if she let go of me.The room was pitch dark around us like the absence of light would protect her from the horror in the room across the hall. Nothing could protect her from the atrocity she had already seen. While I couldn't have known in that moment the full extent of what happened, I learned the details in the years to follow. I had never felt fear to my core like I had when she called me crying, inconsolable, and almost impossible to understand.

The raw pain in her voice was evident and I knew that whatever had happened that she needed me now, not in five hours. It had been years since I dared to interrupt my father, but today it didn’t matter that he was in a meeting. I knowingly broke the rules and willingly accepted his anger and the future punishment to get him to bring me to her. At thirteen, my transportation options were limited and none of the family drivers would move an inch without his approval. When I opened the door to his conference room every head swiveled to look at me. The flash of anger in his eyes spoke volumes to what my punishment would be if I was wrong, but she was worth it.

“Father, it’s an emergency. I need to speak with you.” I spoke, having pushed false bravado into my voice to keep it from wavering. He did not verbally respond, just stood up and walked to the hallway with Enzo right behind him. The moment the sound proof door was shut, I told him what I knew and that we needed to go to Claire.

“If you are wrong about this, you will pay in both your blood and the blood of others. You are a man and future leader of this family, do you accept your punishment if she is being dramatic?” He questioned, but without having faltered I nodded in agreement. We left immediately from the meeting and the house but every second was agony. It was a silent ride over and I knew that if I was wrong about this, I would pay with both pain and death.

When we entered the apartment we found her crying over the still warm body of her mom, trying to shake her awake. My dad had instructed me to bring her to her room and calm her down before her screaming summoned the police. While it was always understood that the police were on our payroll, it was important not to draw unnecessary attention to help situations like this go away quietly. Based on his instruction, I picked her up and hauled her away from her mom dragging her to the room across the hall.

Scanning her small form, all I could see was how much blood coated the front of her shirt. The deep red staining was not new to me even at that age. My urge to know if she is okay shifted into overdrive, but she was unresponsive to vocal commands.

Even with the experience I had at the time, I could not bring her back to the reality she wasn't ready to face. Using my hand, I lightly checked along both of her arms and gingerly over her ribs seeking any potential injury she may have received that the adrenaline is dulling. No matter how hard she held on, I could not save her from what she witnessed, but I could envelop her in my arms.

At that moment, I understood just how small she was compared to my large frame. Even at thirteen, I was almost a head taller than her. The blood and what looked like skin under her nails told me that she fought the person who tried to touch her. Using a calming breath to steady myself, I pulled her closer to reassure her that she was safe now. The feeling of her trembling in my arms stirred the rage deep in my chest.

Even from the other room I could hear my dad's voice drift in when I concentrated on the words he whispered. He was speaking to his bodyguard, Enzo, about the next steps for Anna’s body and how they would cover up what occurred here from the public. She may not have been my mother, and there was no love lost between us, but she didn’t deserve this.

Before I could even process what had happened to Claire’s mother, Enzo had Alex, the detective on our payroll, on the line. I would recognize that nasally voice anywhere. This was all happening too fast to process everything around me. What are they going to do with Claire? She has never been allowed at the compound before. My first thought at the time was that maybe her mom dying would grant her the privilege of staying in the family home.

Barely above a whisper, I heard my father utter, “This is my fault, Fabbri warned me that if I didn’t negotiate with him and the scum that I would pay for it.” I may not have been integrated into the family business but I knew the name and what it meant.

“This wasn’t what you wanted, but Anna knew what loving you meant even if you never loved her back. There was no way we could have seen this level of brutality coming. Not with your wife abroad visiting family again.” Enzo comforted. As soon as the words had left his mouth, the whole apartment went silent. My mom. We had no idea if she was okay or if this level of violence had extended across oceans. The only sounds aside from our breathing was the sound of the call attempting to connect to my mom in Italy. My breath caught in my chest, waiting to hear her voice.

“You have reached Maria. Please leave a message and…” her voicemail rang through and all you could hear was the quiet sobs of Claire. No. No. My body went numb as I attempted to reconcile what her phone going to voicemail meant. I begged and pleaded for it not to be my mom. It was not a secret that their marriage, like so many in our world, was not a bond of love but one of blood and alliances, but she was my light. The softer side to his hard and emotionless parenting style. My mom was the only person in my life other than my sister who cared about me without being paid for their time.

My father tried his call again without her answering. He finally called my grandpa and spoke to him in rushed Italian. My stomach sank with every short answer. I knew I should have paid more attention to the bits that my dad has tried to teach me over the years. When the call disconnected and I heard Enzo speak, my whole world shattered beneath my feet, crumbling my heart with it.

“My condolences,” spoken barely above a whisper as Enzo confirmed the worst.

Both Claire and I’s tears and the blood from her were actively soaking through the fabric of my shirt as she whispered the details of what she witnessed. She was only left alive to send a message. My little sister, well half-sister, would never be the same happy girl after this. My rigid edges were a byproduct of being raised under my father's thumb as a prodigy for the family business. Even the strength my father demanded was difficult to maintain in the face of what she saw.

The state in which she had to see her mom will never leave her, and I could never make this right for her. She would be haunted by the memories of what they made her watch. Each word she uttered pushed my anger to new extremes. You cannot simply say no to someone as powerful as they are without any consequences.

Hell, her mom should never have had to go through something so barbaric. She didn’t even understand some of what happened, just that her mom kept screaming and begging for them to spare her daughter's life. The dying breath of my father’s one true love was to save the child they made together. While she got her wish and they spared her life, they didn’t spare her the trauma that came with what she saw.

His voice startled us both when he finally spoke again. “Get her changed and cleaned up. She is coming home with us tonight.” I knew in that moment that any vengeance less than ridding the world of all that made this happen would not quench my thirst.

Before we left the apartment I looked into her eyes and spoke clearly so that even with the trauma she would remember each word. “Claire, I promise that no matter what happens, I will make sure that the men who put you through this will pay for it with their lives.” This was the one promise I would beg, barter, steal, and die to keep. She needed a spark of hope for revenge without having subjected her to more violence. She was so young but bright. She didn’t deserve the feuds she was born into, all because she has the blood of Angelini in her.

“You promise?” she whimpered, tears still shown in her eyes. There was no hesitation. I didn't consider what future I wanted before this. Everything I had ever dreamed for was torn down and replaced with a primal need to avenge her.

“Yes, I promise with my life.”