Filed to story: Bound by Honor (Aria & Luca) Drama Story
“I went there. Complete bloodbath. Limbs and skin everywhere. Ten dead.” Matteo raised his eyebrows. “They were chopped into pieces. Most of the work was done with an axe, but a few got a bit of love with a skinning knife.” He leaned forward and tapped the knife strapped to my chest.
The dancer lifted herself up on the pole and spread her legs in a wide V. Matteo whirled around to her. “Why don’t you fuck off?”
Her eyes grew wide and she released the pole before she ran toward the changing rooms. My eyes followed her ass. I hadn’t fucked anyone’s ass since Grace four years ago.
“Do I have to get naked so you will listen to me?”
I leaned back in my chair. “I’m listening.”
“I assume you did that.”
“Their screams and their blood felt like fucking paradise,” I murmured.
Matteo shook his head. “Fuck, Luca. You won’t go ballistic on me, right? The last time I saw you…fuck. And now you’re all calm-that’s strange even for you.”
“I am calm.”
Matteo sat back in his chair, bringing distance between us, and I knew I’d hate what he had to say next. “I saw Aria in the mansion yesterday morning.”
My heart clenched fucking tight, but I kept a calm face. “She will stay there. She won’t return to New York. Have Sandro watch her.”
Matteo rubbed his temple. “Luca, listen, I know you don’t want to hear it, but I don’t think Aria cheated on you.”
I stood, my eyes drawn to the changing room door where the stripper had disappeared. Matteo shoved my chest, eyes blazing with fury.
“For fuck’s sake, will you stop this shit? You’re freaking even me out and I’ve seen you at your worst.” He paused. “Though I have to admit what you did in that clubhouse may be the most twisted shit I have ever seen.”
“You saw the photos of Dante and Aria,” I pressed out through a fucking tight throat. I clenched my fists, hating that my body betrayed me.
“They show nothing. I talked to Orazio. He got his hands on the photographer and will bring him to us tomorrow.”
“I can’t take in Orazio now. We need him as a spy.”
Matteo rolled his eyes. “I know, and he will return to Chicago.” He’d been rising in rank since Valentina married Dante. As her brother he was our perfect asset.
“Did you hear what I said? We can talk to the photographer tomorrow. Orazio already questioned him and it’s like Aria said, she met with Val, then Dante joined them and forced Aria to leave the restaurant with him, but tomorrow you can make him tell you the same thing again if you don’t believe me.”
I nodded, but apart from that didn’t react. My outsides were stone but I couldn’t control my fucking insides. I felt fucking relieved, but it didn’t matter anymore. Yesterday had showed me one thing: I had grown weak because of Aria. She was a weakness-a weakness I couldn’t allow myself as Capo.
“So will you help me interrogate that asshole?”
I smirked. “Sure.”
Matteo frowned. “I’m not sure you really get what I’m telling you.”
“Oh I do,” I said quietly. “Aria went to Chicago behind my back. That is fact. She didn’t cheat, who gives a fuck?” The words seemed to scorch my throat. A fucking lie. Even thinking of Aria being with someone other than me felt like a stab in the heart.
A weakness.
I’d never been weak in my life.
Aria was a weakness I couldn’t allow myself.
Matteo shook his head. “Whatever. Tomorrow we’ll talk to that photographer. Maybe you’ll be more tolerable afterwards.”
Orazio nodded at me as I shook his hand. He was only a couple of inches shorter than me. It was unmistakable that he was related to Valentina. Same eyes, same hair color. At least he wasn’t fawning over Dante.
Dante. My blood boiled only thinking of him, of his hands on Aria’s shoulders, of his mouth close to her ear, and his fucking arm between her legs…
Matteo shoved me. “Will you snap out of it for fuck’s sake? I can’t have you go on another killing spree.”
“Why not? I’m sure it will silence many of our enemies.”
Matteo shook his head before he turned to Orazio, who was listening with mild interest.
“Where is the asshole?” Matteo asked.
“Trunk. Pissed his pants. That’s why I didn’t want him on my backseat,” Orazio said. He led us to the back of his BMW and opened the trunk. A short, fat guy in his thirties was curled up inside. He stank of piss, shit and sweat. He blinked up at us through teary eyes, his mouth covered with tape.
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out, then thrust him to the ground. Behind us the building of the old Yonkers power plant rose into the sky.
Gateway to Hell.