Inferno(51)

Valentino bared his teeth. It seemed for a moment like he was going to launch himself at Felice and tear his throat out.

A man with thick, jet-black hair stepped out of line. He was tall and broad, but moved with a strange fluidity, almost like a dancer. He was the perfect mixture of Angelo and Felice – lithe and narrow, with warm, dark eyes. ‘Felice, remember to whom you’re speaking. You should amend your tone accordingly.’

‘And your words,’ added Dom.

Felice addressed the tall man with venom. ‘I don’t need your caution, Paulie. I remember. He’s our brother’s child.’

‘He’s your boss,’ said Luca, forgetting about me and stepping into the garden to join the others. He stopped beside Valentino. It was a telling show of solidarity: the underboss and the boss, side by side, united against the consigliere. Cracks, I realized. They’re everywhere. No wonder Felice’s wife had run a mile. ‘You would do well to remember the Falcone order, Felice.’

Felice’s smile was mirthless. ‘How could I ever forget? Angelo’s decision to—’

‘Enough.’ Valentino cut him off. ‘You’ve displayed enough theatrics for one night.’

‘You insult me,’ said Felice, turning dangerously quiet. ‘I have lost my brother tonight. Avenging his death should not be considered a display of theatrics.’

Valentino’s tone was cutting. ‘We will speak later, in private, when you don’t have your audience.’

A ripple of unease travelled through the waiting Falcones. There was a sudden chill in our midst and instead of mistrustful eyes being trained on me, they were directed inwards, at each other.

Sara Marino and CJ were forgotten on the grass. Now the attention was deflected from him, CJ didn’t seem interested in the girl or the gun. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world.

‘Enough of this,’ said Elena, coming to stand beside Luca and Valentino. They were cut from her cloth – the same bright blue eyes and high cheekbones – none of that golden warmth Nic had inherited from his father. ‘Sort this nonsense out, we have our vengeance to exact tonight.’

Murmurs of agreement swept through the garden.

‘You can’t kill your sister’s child.’

For a second I thought the words were mine; that they had sprung from my brain just as I had begun to conjure them. I might have convinced myself, if it wasn’t for the faint British accent with which they were said. Millie came to my side and laced her fingers through mine. I could feel them shaking. ‘Let her come with us.’

Elena’s composure imploded. ‘Enough, son! You must do something about them. The Gracewell girl, surely. The level of—’

It was Paulie who cut her off. ‘Elena, you know this girl saved your son’s life. Let us not spill more blood than is necessary tonight. It was not Angelo’s way.’

There it was. My bargaining chip. ‘You owe me a life, Valentino,’ I called out, squashing my internal freak-out. I gestured at Sara. ‘Her life for Luca’s in the warehouse. Let her go.’

Valentino raised his brows, surprise twisting on his lips. ‘That’s not really how this works.’

‘This is turning into a circus!’ Felice had retrieved his gun from CJ and was standing on the grass again, tapping his foot. ‘Let the boy shoot the Marino girl and be done with it.’

‘No!’ Millie and I both shouted. Millie had her phone in her hand now. It didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the Falcones. Even if they got to her before she could speak to an operator, a 911 hang-up was enough. Her plan was a lot braver than mine, but I wasn’t convinced it was a smarter one.

Paulie started towards us and we stumbled back into the house.

Nic edged closer. ‘Millie, don’t.’

She lifted the phone to her ear. ‘I’ll do it if you don’t let that girl go.’

‘You also know you’ll regret it.’ His words were underpinned by the terrible truth. If she broke omertà, she would forfeit her life, or that of someone close to her.

Nic stopped at the doorway. Paulie stood next to him, while the others peered through the glass. It was OPERATION: DISARM THE GIRLS.

‘The girl is not going to die,’ said Paulie.

‘You’re lying.’

He raised his hands in supplication. ‘Valentino is sending a message to the Marinos. He won’t kill Sara. They are cousins, you know. Felice just gets carried away – he’s grieving. He has given you an exaggerated impression of what’s going on here.’

‘I know he wants CJ to kill her,’ I said. ‘I know the truce was broken. But I also know that killing Sara Marino is only going to make this entire situation worse. She’s innocent, and everyone in this garden knows it.’