Chapter 15 Meet The Matriach
Alessia’s POV
I watch his retreating figure leave, and I lay back on the bed, trying to calm my heart. Mama mia, I can’t fall for him even if his touch sets me ablaze. He is the enemy! He is thy enemy. I will need to keep telling myself that until it sinks into my skull.
Later, I am lying on my side trying to get some sleep when someone knocks and opens my door quickly, rushing in. I turn in fear to find Lucia her face pale, fidgeting, running her hands together.
“Lucia, what is the matter? You scared me!”
“Signorina Alessia, Nonna Marguerite and Isabella are back. They are downstairs!”
I frown at her, confused, because I don’t know the ladies she just mentioned.
“Who are they?” I whisper.
“The Mistress, Signora Marguerite Ferrini, and Signorina Isabella Ferrini. Merde! They are very angry.”
I freeze as fear spikes in my chest for a moment. Ah, his family. Probably his mother and sister. The vicious cats of the household.
Lucia rubs her hands together, frantic. “Please stay inside this room. I will say you are sleeping so they don’t enter.”
Before I can answer her, my door opens and they step in.
Marguerite Ferrini walks in wearing nine-inch killer heels and a black, bandage, high-fashion dress, while Isabella is draped in crushed violet silk. Their perfume slowly fills the room, strong and overpowering. Her black eyes so like her son’s fall on me.
I take in a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for her cruelty.
“So,” Marguerite says, her voice soft but dangerous, “you are the girl my son brought home.”
Lucia curtsies and quickly settles in a corner.
I stand, holding my bandaged hands like a shield in front of me. I curtsy. “Signora Ferrini-”
“Be quiet!” she snaps, waving off my greeting like she doesn’t need it. “Do not speak my name.”
Her slight Sicilian twang comes through as her anger rises. “I only came here to see the face of the woman who made my son do something so extraordinary.”
I gulp hard. “I am innocent, I didn’t-”
Isabella interrupts me. She is trembling like a leaf as her lips stretch into a cruel smile.
“Mama, she doesn’t even have proper etiquette training. She is slouching is that how the Sirranos trained their maids?”
I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and I retort, “I can stand how I wish. I am not a maid anymore.”
“Oh really?” Isabella asks, her face twisted in a mocking smile. “What are you now? Alex’s new obsession?”
Her words cut through me like glass. What is this girl’s problem, actually? Lucia gasps softly from her hiding point.
“I think you have said enough, Isabella.” Andre’s voice rumbles from the doorway. He steps into the room. “The Master said she is not to be disturbed.”
Marguerite turns her cold eyes on him. “How dare you order me around in my own house?”
Andre bows slightly. “With all due respect, Signora, I have to follow the Master’s instructions.”
She narrows her eyes at him and waves him off. “Leave now.”
He doesn’t budge. “That, I cannot do, Signora.”
I stare in shock and admiration as Andre stands his ground. Bravo, Andre, I think to myself. A low screech escapes her mouth. “You dare to defy me?”
Andre sighs. “Signora, please,” he says quickly. “I don’t want any trouble from Master Alex.”
“That’s ironic,” Isabella says, stepping closer to Signora Marguerite, “when Master literally brought the trouble into our home.”
I stand my ground, even though my chest is constricting with fear.
“I am not here by my own free will, so please ,if you have a problem, pick it up with Alex,” I whisper.
She stares at me, her face set in a grim line. “I plan to do that as soon as he gets back. In the meantime, do not get too comfortable.”
“My son may have saved you, but if he realises you are worthless, you will be out on the street before you can even beg for mercy,” she adds, her voice full of fury as she threatens me but I feel something underneath: a mother desperation to hold on to the last stems of control.
“If he chooses to release me, then I will welcome my freedom. But until then,” I shrug, sitting back on the bed, acting nonchalant.
Marguerite hisses, straightening her spine. “I look forward to that day. You are nothing but Sirrano filth you should have never been allowed to set foot in this house.”
I cross my legs as Andre moves closer to stand between us.
“That’s enough, Signora.”
She glares at him for a moment. “Whatever. Let her stay. When her bad luck starts to rub off on this house, you will understand you have made a mistake.”
She storms out of the room like a hurricane, her voice trailing off. Isabella looks at me again with a weird look on her face before following her. Andre follows them out, probably to ensure they actually go to their quarters.
Lucia rushes to my side in an instant. “Are you okay, Signora?”
I nod my head absentmindedly as she fusses around me, arranging the bed and fluffing my pillow.
I stare at the doorway, not sure who else will come in. Alex isn’t around, it seems and I am trapped in his home with his mother who hates my guts, and his sister who probably wants me dead.
It’s raining cats and dogs as I make my way towards Gio’s exact location. Luca is seated in the passenger seat as the city neon night lights pass by in a blur. The intel said Gio was spotted at the eastern docks, so I expertly maneuver my car toward the direction.
Gio - the reason Alessia is still breathing and made it out alive. If he hadn’t vanished soon after, the Sirrano would have put his head on a pike by now. I shake my head it’s the mafia way; we do not forgive people that help outcasts.
“Manggia,” I mutter as my knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.
I hope this intel is legit and I find him alive and well.
Luca shoots me a side eye. “Do you think he will be willing to talk with you?”
“I will make him talk,” I growl, one way or the other. “Even if I have to start carving out his tongue before he gives in.”
By the time the eastern docks come into view the rain has slowed down to a drizzle . It has become a dumpyard of old dusty containers and broken-down cars. The air is filled with the stench of brine and gasoline. I slow down as I enter the last turn, turning off my car lights before parking. As I step out of the car I see a long smear of blood on the floor heading toward the gravel as if someone has been trying to crawl away after getting shot.
“Oh no, no, no. Dio santo,” Luca whispers.
I don’t say a word, but my heart is thundering like a drum as I reach into my pocket to grab my revolver and hold it in my hand, pulling back the safety cock just in case I need to quickly fire it. A gust of wind howls through the night as if giving us a warning.
“Who is there?” a hoarse pained voice calls weakly from behind one of the crates.
My head moves in that direction, my feet turning around the corner.
And there I see a man on the floor, his head propped on a fallen trash can. This must be Gio.
As I step closer I note he is shot and his T-shirt is caked in blood. His eyes move to me when he sees me.
I crouch low beside him. “Who shot you?”
He coughs as blood comes out of his mouth. “Mr Ferrini, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Who shot you, Gio?” I ask again, more patient this time, as I know he is in a lot of pain.
He looks at me though his eyes are half-lidded with pain. “I didn’t know they would find me this quickly.”
My patience starts wearing thin as I ask, “Was it then? The Sirranos?”
His mouth twists into a grimace. “I expected this. I knew they wouldn’t let it slide; that’s why I left after Alessia.”
I sigh. “Dios, this just got complicated.” A thought occurs to me — Alessia will be crushed. I push it down hard.
He grips my empty left hand suddenly, his blood seeping into my jacket.
“I helped her because it wasn’t her. I couldn’t let them kill an innocent girl. I saw shadows that night. Alessia took a coffee break and I took her place. There was no noise, just a cold gust of wind and the jewel was gone. I knew she-”
“She what?” I press, wanting all the details.
He struggles to keep speaking. “She didn’t take it. Her mother saved me once. She bound her.”
I freeze, not understanding what he is saying.
“I don’t understand you, Gio.”
His fingers tighten on my sleeve. “Find Alessia. Tell her. Her mother bound her. But it’s in her blood.”
I shake my head, wondering what all this disjointed information is actually about.
“Gio bound what exactly?” I ask, shaking him once. “Gio! Gio!” But his eyes have gone flat and his hand is limp in mine.
I shake him again. “Gio!” Silence. Luca stands behind me, silent, his expression serious.
“He is dead,” he says softly.
I rise slowly, returning my gun to my holster, wiping my bloody hands on my coat. My pulse throbs in my ears as his voice starts echoing in my head:
Bound.
Her power.
Blood.
What exactly does all this mean?
Luca exhales. “Alex, we need to go. The police will be here soon.”
I stare around the dock as the wind howls again. I turn one last time to look at Gio’s still body.
“Rather let the men clean him up and give him a proper burial. No need for the police to get into this.”
“But-"
“Luca, just do what I said.” I meet his eyes, my voice calm and cold. I don’t want this to become a murder scene. The rain has washed away any evidence anyway, so do as I say.
He hesitates, then nods. “Okay, Alex.”
I turn toward the car, walking quickly and entering. I slam the door, bending over the steering wheel. “What now? I have absolutely nothing but a few incomplete lines from a dying man.”
Luca climbs in beside me as I start the engine. “Where to now?” he asks.
I stare out of the windshield as I try to think of a master plan, but I have absolutely nothing. I have to start from Gio’s half-information.
I sigh. “Now we need to find out who Alessia Molano really is…. Thomas had also hinted at her being which blood and so had the dossier.”
Thomas.
The dossier.
Gio.
They can’t all be wrong. She is the key… Everything starts with her. It’s not only about finding the jewel any longer. It’s about her who she is and from where? I have a feeling this storm… this storm is just beginning…