She didn't have to tell him that, he'd been there with her. They'd set up surveillance just across the street from his backyard. The house was a mansion. Angeline wanted status and Luigi gave it to her. Soldiers were in and out, moving through the grounds with dogs to ensure safety. Luigi wasn't taking any chance on any of the families in power hitting his family.
He was head of the Abbracciabene family, but his territory was small. Through his marriage to Angeline, he was allied with the Porcelli family. That territory was much bigger, and Aldo wielded a tremendous power in the underworld, so he was protected. That protection clearly wasn't enough for Luigi. He led a double life and had to be paranoid. Still, he spent a lot of time on the large patio, hiding from his wife.
"I know you did," Casimir replied softly, his hand squeezing hers. He rubbed the back of her hand and once more tightened his fingers, pressing her palm deep into the heat of his chest, right over his heart. "Talk to me," he repeated.
She moistened her lips, trying to think how to word what was preying on her mind. She didn't want Casimir to get upset. Like her, he was a fire element. He could burn hot with passion or be just as destructive as a roaring fire could be. He was intensely loyal. He hadn't known his blood brothers growing up, hadn't been around them as a man, yet he'd remained loyal to them, so much so that he was willing to die for them. He had planned to sacrifice himself for the sake of his brothers' happiness. He wouldn't understand someone like Luigi. He'd never tolerate such a betrayal as Luigi had committed, conspiring to kill his own brother and family in order to gain power. Raising a child as a weapon to continue his thirst for power.
"Malyshka."
That "baby" was a clear warning. He expected her to tell him why she was upset.
She sighed. Pushed at the fall of black hair surrounding her face. "Luigi really is grieving for Arturo. I studied his face through the binoculars. He stared off into space forever. I guess I wanted to think he was wholly a monster, incapable of loving anyone."
Casimir glanced at her sharply. "He certainly doesn't love his wife. That was clear. It was a little shocking that she doesn't see it."
"I think she sees it, she just doesn't care. She has what she wants. She lives a certain way and has filled her life with friends and events. They appear to almost live apart. The three boys..." She trailed off. "Much more difficult to judge." She detested the wistful note in her voice. "I'm sorry, it's just that..." She left it. How could she possibly explain why she was so conflicted about Luigi?
"Don't you think I understand?" Casimir asked. "That man was your only family growing up. He wasn't just your uncle. He was your mother and father. He put a roof over your head, food in your mouth and clothes on your back. He taught you everything he knew about his business and he made certain you were good at it, good enough that you weren't going to get killed. It might have been harsh training, but in the end, you recognized that he was ensuring you stayed alive. That had to feel like caring."
"I remember when he first brought me home. He was stiff. He'd always been around when I was growing up, but he wasn't particularly affectionate. Over time, he became that way. Arturo started it, giving me hugs and wiping away tears when Luigi was upset with me, but then eventually, Luigi began to thaw. He laughed more. He took me more places himself. He ate dinner with me. I thought we were close. I thought he loved me." She finished the last in a small voice, staring unseeing down at the blueprints.
"Luigi is incapable of love."
She shook her head. "That's not true, Casimir. He loved Arturo. I could see it on his face. He still can hardly bear the loss."
Casimir inclined his head, his thumb sliding over her hand. Back and forth. She found the motion soothing.
"I'll give you that," he conceded. "But, lyubov moya, you know you can't save him. There's no way to do that."
"I know." She did know. It was just that, when she thought of him, she still thought of her uncle, not of the monster who ordered the hit on her family. She tried to remind herself that he had made certain anyone loyal to her father had been murdered. Even those working in the house - maids, the cook. The gardener and his entire family including children. Her uncle had done that. The thought made her sick. It made her feel worse that knowing all of those things, she still had a difficult time thinking he was that person.
"He'll have to kill you," Casimir reminded. "After this. He's going to ask to meet you somewhere, a place he can arrange an accident for you - one where you won't be identified as belonging to him. He can't have any blowback if he plans to take over the Porcelli family. The counsel won't like it, and they'll be scrutinizing his every move. That's why he wanted accidents, no more than a couple a year. That's why he stayed patient. He knew they would be looking at him and he had to appear absolutely clean."
She knew he was stating the truth, but she didn't have to like it. She wanted to believe that Luigi at least loved her the way he did Arturo - that all those years together meant something to him. It was true that he had to be planning her death, there was no other way he could be certain she wouldn't find out about Luigi's betrayal of her family and come after him. He'd lived on the edge of that sword for so long it would be a relief for him to get rid of her. He'd sent her to the United States once she had turned eighteen to make certain she didn't have a chance to stumble on the truth about his wife and children.
"I love you, Giacinta," he said softly, bringing her hand to his mouth. His teeth teased her fingertips, scraping back and forth gently. "I know this is difficult, but I can do it for you. There's no need..."
"It's my mess," she interrupted. "He killed my family. He's planning on killing me. I have to be the one..."
"No, you don't. I'm your family. Your husband. When he killed your family, malyshka, he killed mine. My father-in-law. My mother-in-law. They belonged to me as well. My parents were torn from me, just as yours were. Viktor and Gavriil hunted those responsible down one by one, over the years, just as you have done. You planned on taking care of the last of them - the Sorbacovs. For my brothers."
"And my sisters."
"So Luigi is my duty just as much as yours."
She nodded her assent. "Okay."
He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. "Okay? You aren't going to argue some more?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't argue."
He smiled at her and returned her hand to his thigh. "You argued with me over Viktor. Still, I find all that fire sexy, so we're good."
"Why didn't Viktor and his seventeen assassins go after Sorbacov?"
"He was planning to do just that. After he brought down Shackler-Gratsos. All of us knew he would do it. We didn't know about the others, but we knew Viktor would make a try. He's always been about protecting us. He takes that job very seriously."
"Too bad he doesn't do the same with his wife. If she is his wife," Lissa said, trying hard to keep the biting sarcasm from her voice.
Viktor lo
oked and acted like a biker, a one percenter, more, an outlaw biker. That didn't surprise her. He had come from a brutal background, learning a thousand ways to kill a man, torture him or just plain fuck him up. He would do so without mercy and with no remorse. If any of the Prakenskii brothers was truly a straight-up killer, Viktor was one. Gavriil maybe, but Viktor for certain.
He also had the mentality of a man who believed he could get away with telling his woman what to do and she'd do it without question. She knew Blythe Daniels. Had known her for five years. Blythe wasn't a jump-on-command woman. Lissa couldn't imagine elegant, beautiful Blythe with Viktor.
"That school, Giacinta, they took those little boys and flogged the skin off their backs for any infraction. They were forced to hurt one another. You can't imagine what it was like. Each of the schools was progressively worse. We all knew that if we were sent to the one Viktor was in, odds were, we weren't coming out of there alive. Those who lived through it were given the dirtiest, most dangerous jobs Sorbacov had."
"There are eighteen of them. They're all trained assassins. Are you telling me they couldn't get to Sorbacov?"
"All eighteen had someone they protected. Viktor had us. Each of the others no doubt had siblings as well. I'm not surprised Viktor managed to bring them together. If he trusts them, believe me, malyshka, those men are loyal to him and one another."