Chapter 98 In Church
Enzo
"Good idea," Rose admits. "But we're going. We'll even take the twins and Aiza, if she's interested. Most of my family will be there too. Let's go." I groan as she flashes me those beautiful blue eyes.
I really screwed up when it came to her. Because less than an hour later, I walk through the church doors, my arm around Rosa's waist. The twins are with us too.
When we arrive, the service is already underway, and quite a few people turn to look at us as we walk to the front, where the De Lucas are sitting. I'm surprised to see some D'Angelos, too. Specifically, Christian and his wife, and two small children, I assume they own.
We sit in the pews for Mass. I'm practically counting the minutes until it's over.
After the service, Rosa goes to talk to Elena, and I go outside where the men are standing. I caught Christian's eye during the service. He has something to tell me.
Tony speaks when I arrive, and Christian's expression is blank as he listens. Roman's jaw is tense.
"You want me to investigate your father?" Christian asks.
"No," Tony says, his expression vulnerable. "I want you to find my mother. I asked Michael to look into this a few weeks ago." According to my father, she left the country many years ago, but there were no records of her departure. Mikey checked. He tried to find her, but couldn't.
"Why this sudden interest in finding her?"
"That's what I need to know," Tony replies. "Can you find her?"
"Tony, just leave it," Roman says, his expression hard.
"Back off, Roman."
Christian nods curtly.
"I'll look into it," he says to Tony.
"Really?" I procrastinate. "Because I asked you to find out something for me. And you still haven't answered me."
His jaw tenses.
Me.
"I found your boyfriend a few weeks ago. I just didn't know how to tell you."
"Tell me the truth," I ask, feeling my heartbeat quicken.
His eyes meet mine.
"Maybe we should go somewhere more private to talk."
"I'll ask Rosa to drive the kids home," I agree.
After saying goodbye to them, I get into Christian D'Angelo's car and drive him to one of the clubs I own. I'm tense the entire drive. The Christmas decorations appear, which only makes my mood worse. The thought of a vacation hasn't stirred up much in my mind. Yet.
The club is quiet, considering it's still daytime. Jason is there, getting everything ready. He raises an eyebrow as Christian and I pass by. I shake my head to tell him no problem, and he returns to his work, while I escort Christian to my office.
"Okay, I'm listening," I say, once we've agreed on something. "Where the hell is that bastard?"
Christian leans forward.
"I knew who he was. When you described him, my brother and I realized he looked like someone our father did business with when we were younger." His name is Trent Kane, but in the criminal underworld he is known as the Butcher.
"Suitable," I say dryly, wanting him to get to the point.
"The Butcher is pretty infamous. He was responsible for dozens of murders two decades ago. If you wanted someone to die in a way that couldn't be linked to you, the Butcher was your guy. He never wore a mask, never hid his face, but he was pretty good at disappearing.
He's not American, and I'm pretty sure Trent Kane isn't his real name. He's also unregistered, which is why he kept his true identity a secret for so long. He disappeared completely about ten years ago, going underground. I think he got older and too slow to keep working.
“I don’t care how old he is. I just want to know where the hell he is,” I snap.
“He’s dead,” Christian says.
His voice is clear, terse, and to the point. I feel my heart stop as the air around me freezes.
“What?” My voice is hoarse.
“He died a couple of years ago, Enzo. Heart attack. Sorry you’re late.”
I don’t move a muscle as I listen to his words. Christian’s gaze is sympathetic, perhaps bordering on pity. Though I can’t focus on that. Rage overwhelms me, hot and furious. I thought I knew anger. But that's nothing compared to what I feel right now.
"He's dead," I repeat silently, as the words finally sink in.
I'm beginning to understand. I'll never get revenge. I really am too late. All this time, I've just been chasing ghosts.
I stand up and, after a moment, push the contents of the table aside. Everything breaks, turning on the phone. My skin grows hot, and my heart beats too fast. I need to hit someone; I need to kill someone. But I can't kill Christian. That would be dirty.
He's completely calm, accepting my outburst with a blank expression.
"You can still find the guy who hired him," he offers.
"I know exactly who it is," I growl. I'm about to say something else when Jason bursts through the door, his eyes wide.
"We have a problem," he informs me. "Denise's back."
Fucking hell.