Page 128 of Dark Alliance
Connor kisses my hair. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. I lost Nino years ago. Today’s just the day I know I’m never getting him back
A fresh round of tears finds my cheeks, my chin, and Connor’s shoulder. I rub my arm under my runny nose, very aware that I’m a mess.
“Cat, listen to me.” Connor tightens his arms around me. “You did everything you could…more than I would’ve been capable of…to reason with him.” He kisses my head several times over. “Even after you knew what he’d done, you still clung to hope. I wouldn’t have given Brody that kind of slack. And he wouldn’t expect me to.”
“Brody isn’t Nino.” I spent approximately two seconds in Brody’s presence and recognized the same kind of loyalty and passion in his eyes that Connor possesses. Love for his brother emanated from that man. He’s never even met me in person, yet he followed Connor into a war zone to save the woman he loved. No questions asked.
In retrospect, I’m not sure if Nino ever offered me that type of loyalty or affection once he left childhood. I love my brother, I really do, but I think as soon as he entered adulthood and became more caught up in the organization, he lost the ability to return any emotion. Either that, or his craving for power slowly rotted his soul over the years.
Connor rubs my back. “We all have our limits, and Nino pushed well past yours.”
Shuddering, I swipe at my eyes. “I just…don’t understand why it had to be like this.”
“There’s nothing to understand. He behaved in a way that even people like us categorize as evil. How can you make sense of that?” Connor sighs, his breath blowing my hair. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to reason with him either. I feel like I failed you.”
“You didn’t fail me.” I pull back to look Connor in his puffy, bruised eyes. “I don’t think you’re sorry he’s dead, though.”
His small smile gives him away. “No, I’m not. But I tried…for you.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, and we sit here for a few minutes so I can cry it all out. Once I finish, I rise, feeling a little like an empty husk.
This day is hardly over, and I can’t hide forever. I have a family to run and a funeral procession to finish.
We’re stained in the blood of my brother. Luckily, you can hardly see it on my black pantsuit. It looks more or less like I got caught in the rain. Not that blood staining a designer suit is anything new for the congregates below.
Downstairs, I enter the same door Nino dragged me through less than thirty minutes ago and approach the pulpit. Connor follows, kisses my forehead, and pivots to take a seat before I catch his hand.
“Please stay.”
With a nod, he remains at my side. My rock.
I gaze out into the church, at the lofty ceilings and the stained glass windows lining the walls like soldiers. This cathedral is so beautiful. My mother’s funeral was here, too, and I remember thinking, how did we get so unlucky to lose her…but also lucky enough to hold her funeral in a magic castle? Santo Duomo is an architectural work of art.
Lowering my gaze, I perform a quick assessment of those in attendance. We’re sixty or seventy people light from when I first walked in. Some women and children left due to the large-scale scuffle, and dead bodies remain scattered across the floor. This place looks more like a shelter in the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse than my father’s funeral.
Never in a million years could I have foreseen this scenario.
I meet the eyes of the four capos who came to the cathedral with me, along with Frankie and Carlo and every enforcer thatpledged their loyalty earlier. They’re all alive, which brings me a morsel of comfort.
I get the nod from several capos of the other Italian families and know I have their support, at least here at Eduardo Ricci’s funeral. Even so, it’s still hard to focus on anything other than my grief and Connor’s hand on my arm.
I’m the only Ricci left in this big scary world. I should still feel hollowed out, but I must be siphoning strength from Connor, because after clearing my throat, I find the courage to begin.
“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the life of a man who was a strong and fair leader. A pillar. A man who took his position in the Ricci family so seriously that some days he struggled to live up to his own expectations. But he always did. Eduardo Ricci led with quiet confidence. That is not to say he wasn’t strong.”
A few airy chuckles float from the crowd like blowballs in the wind.
For the first time today, I smile. “My father didn’t need to shout or clench his fists or use intimidation to lead, though he had all those qualities at his disposal.”
I see heads bobbing in agreement.
“On a personal note, Eduardo Ricci’s been both my father and mother since I was a girl. He kept my mother’s memory alive, and he always made sure she was still the heart of our home.”
Connor squeezes my arm. He was motherless, too, for over half his life.
“So, in many ways, I’ve lost both parents today.” I meet Connor’s eyes briefly before returning my attention to my fellow mourners. “They had a love affair that lasted less than two decades. My father always said it was more than he deserved but still not nearly enough. She was the reason he never remarried.”
