All Chapters of Married To The Wrong Brother: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

64 Chapters

CHAPTER 10: Rosalia

He had gone straight to the Don of the De Laurentiis. Unfortunately for me, whatever happened that night was buried and folded for political reasons and the illusion of peace among powerful allies. The Capellos had no real power to push back, especially not when their daughter’s marriage was the last thread tying them to safety and freedom.And my father was still bound to the family. No matter how loudly his heart must have screamed, he belonged to them.After realizing Davina had only confessed about the ambush and left out the rest, I was relieved. She had even arranged for me to see a secret therapist, Matteo had been forced to play along with the hiring since he too knew something happened, though he’d never learn the whole truth. Journaling became my escape, even if I had to write about anything but what really haunted me. Davina kept me disciplined, guided me through checkups, guarded me like I was her patient rather than her sister. And it worked, a little, at least the night

CHAPTER 11: Vincenzo.

By the time I reached McLean, the daylight had paled across the villa’s brutalist angles. High glass panes reflected the sweep of the Potomac beyond, and every corner bristled with cameras and armed men. It was less a home than a citadel, the only place in this city my father hadn’t touched.Inside, the foyer opened wide with marble underfoot, and iron-framed windows that streamed sunlight across the polished floor. A long corridor cut through the heart of the house, leading to the living room and the glass sunroom that watched the river.Victor Falcon was already there, waiting. He rose when I entered.“Enzo,” he greeted, nodding once.I shrugged out of my coat and passed it to the waiting staff before dismissing them with a flick of my hand. “You came quickly,” my voice was flat as I motioned for Victor to sit.“Well, you said it was urgent.” His brown eyes searched my face. “You don’t look sick. Which means this isn’t about your body.”I sank into the black leather chair opposite

CHAPTER 12: Vincenzo

“...breaking now out of Queens – local authorities are investigating a three-day inferno at an East River shipping terminal with suspected ties to the Milan-based Salvatore syndicate. The site is believed to have housed a weapons cache seized last month. Witnesses claim a masked gunman sparked the blaze before vanishing by boat. No casualties have been confirmed, but the NYPD has cordoned off the site…”“No casualties indeed.” Irritation prickled at the base of my neck.My name wasn’t on it yet but someone was casting dirt on our map. And they’d made sure the world would look where we could not blink.Dominic had fought Alessandro over Rosalia Capello, knowing full well the code of Cosa Nostra forbade that two siblings both marry from the same family, least of all the Capellos. Yet Dominic, reckless as ever, believed he could bend centuries of law.It reminded me, years ago, when he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. I can still smell the gun oil from Palermo. Dominic storm

CHAPTER 13: Dominic

A MONTH AGO. I had jobs to do. Little fires I liked to set and stomp out on my own terms. Philly was the first, and whatever Vincenzo’s neat lines were, they didn’t interest me tonight; the Salvatores and Moretti did. Since both of them liked to hide, I preferred to make things personal.Alessandro had given me Westchester and a file stamped with his signature, temporary control over certain De Laurentiis territories, carte blanche to straighten things that had been crooked. He could yank it back with a single line of ink, so I had to make it count in my way. Although the assignment made my life easier, it gave me the runway I needed to run my particular kind of chaos. If Andrés wouldn’t talk to Dad and let me work clean, I would return with pieces on the floor and a press release of consequences he couldn’t ignore. I liked the hit-and-run, the three-minute blur, the metal stink after, the way a town talked about nothing but sirens the next morning. It was a drug.Over the last coup

CHAPTER 14: Dominic

PRESENT The last week became a string of little victories and teeth-baring setbacks. We burned a safehouse in South Philly where we'd thought Vito hid his family, instead, we found out his associates kept false passports there. And that led us to intercept a courier for shipping crates to Milan front. Hit a dealer in LA and found more of Moretti’s fingerprints. Slippery bastard.Two days before I boarded the plane to Cremona, my best friend handed me a laminated map. “You’ll like what we’ve put together.” He wasn't all preening, which meant it was good.Eight hours over the Atlantic felt like punishment. The hours make enemies of you when you’re stuck with your thoughts unless you give them something to do. For all of that excruciating time, my mind fed on the same delicious possibility of burning the Salvatores down to ash and watching their empire get exsanguinated like cheap rats. I imagined the docks on fire and their men scrambling. I imagined Vito on his knees, begging for the

CHAPTER 15: Dominic

My eyes located a young woman, hollowed out. Her cheekbones were too sharp, skin puckered and dry in places where it should have been soft. Her hair plastered to her scalp, sweat and oil making it glisten, her eyes were wide and raw, the whites rimmed pink, sleeplessness fossilized in her face. She gripped a kitchen knife with both hands, knuckles white, fingers trembling.She lunged before I could speak, a wild thing throwing itself at the shape of survival. I dove aside. Marc wasn’t quick enough as I watched the blade open his forearm, and the hot spike of guilt for not being a fraction faster splayed on his face. Marc hissed and slapped her wrist as she fought like a cornered animal with nails and teeth until his extra slid in and cuffed her hands behind her back with a cord.Her son bolted from the bed at the sound and threw himself into her lap, arms circling her like a talisman. He sobbed in a small, terrified sound that made my eardrums scrape in a way I hated. I should have b

CHAPTER 16: Dominic

“It might,” my voice was low. “It might also make him exile the people who gave him shelter. He’s not as blind as you think.”Her eyes darted to the boy, then to me, then back again. In that tiny flicker I saw the math she’d been doing in her head, what she could trade, how much time she had left, what price the world might offer for a lie. I could see what years of needle tracks and throttled promises had done to her face. The child’s pulse fluttered against my palm when Marc handed him to me for a second, and I’d seen the lab reports in Marcello’s folder. Two bastards. A mother who feeds her poison to a child makes every broken thing she touches complicit.“Get him warm,” I told Marc, and he bundled the boy in a blanket.The woman shrieked different sounds shifting through a single insane orbit. She spoke a hundred words that meant nothing, a tide of ugly accusations aimed at whatever god or man she thought would answer as she clawed at the cord and scratched at the chair.Marc he

CHAPTER 17: Dominic

The Ford rattled over Westchester roads, and I felt the pulse of rage in my chest. I wound my fingers around the ear tag, felt the plastic give, and pulled it free. The little camera on my chest clicked off when I pried the mount loose and thumbed the lens cover down. A lighter relief settled in my ribs like taking the bandage off an infection and finding out it was only a scab.Marc’s knuckles drummed the steering column. He and Nico had been quiet too long I could feel their silence judging me.When Marc finally spoke, it came out like a line he’d rehearsed. “We need to stop.”“Stop what?” I didn’t look at him but I knew he was glaring at me. And there was a cigarette I didn’t light because the air in the Ford was already dry.“This. Whatever you’re planning next. You can’t burn through the world. Westchester has problems we actually need fixed, fronts that matter. Not Moretti alone.”I shut my mouth slowly. He had a rhythm when he talked. He was patient to drown me in anything if h

CHAPTER 18: Dominic

My head snapped up, and there she stood by the brick column to the right of the bar where the wall met an old arcade machine and a cracked mirror that reflected only half her body. The soft amber light slid over her flushed olive skin. Her long toffee-blonde hair fell over one shoulder, the strands dancing on her collarbone. Those pale grey with flecks of blue locked on mine, and I didn’t breathe because I didn’t want her to vanish.“You drink too much,” her soft, hoarse voice threaded with the reprimand I used to hate yet love sternly.I turned slightly, tilting my glass. “And you don’t drink enough. I hope you get to understand me.”She smiled. A slow, ruinous curve that always meant I’d lost before I even touched her. “Understanding you would mean losing myself, Domenico. I was never brave enough for that.”The sound of my name in her mouth was a confession and an accusation.“Maybe it is.” I swirled the glass, watching the amber shiver. “Maybe that’s why you keep haunting my peace

CHAPTER 19: Rosalia

For a heartbeat, I thought I was hallucinating. Then I answered and now, God help me, I wished I hadn’t.My phone was still on the floor where it slipped from my hand. My heart had skipped like it was trying to claw it way out of my chest. Before I could think, I flopped onto my bed, punching at the mattress and burying my face in the sheets to muffle the scream that threatened to tear free. It was him. After all these years.I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Be relieved or ashamed. Of course I was happy, ecstatic, even to hear Dominic’s voice again. But not after what I’d just done with Jonathan.Jonathan had asked me out earlier that night. It had been casual at first, joking, teasing, a spark of nervousness that made her chest tighten. I’d laughed at his awkward attempt at coolness, and then, emboldened by the thrill of being seen, had leaned in first, brushed my hand against his, and invited him to the little celebration at my house. The grin that had followed looked like I

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