Page 77 of Prince of Vice
"Let's go," I say, guiding her back to the car, seeking solace in the privacy of its confines. The moment we're inside, the rain pounds against the windows, as if the heavens themselves weep for the fractured bonds of brotherhood left shattered in the wake of our meeting.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Primo
Impatiently, I watch the sunset through my office window while waiting for news from Teddy. My heart pounds in my chest as Teddy finally calls, reporting the latest on Constantino. Isabella, a vision of strength and beauty, stands beside me, gripping my hand tightly.
"Constantino has fled the country," Teddy says, his voice tense. Relief washes over me, but it's quickly replaced by seething rage. My brother has once again escaped justice, leaving behind a trail of destruction and pain.
I thank Teddy and hang up the phone.
I glance at Isabella, and in her eyes, I see hope blossoming like a delicate flower. "Giovanni taking over could mean a fresh start for us," she says softly. "A life away from the criminal world. We could move forward together."
"Impossible," I reply, bitterness tainting my tone. "Constantino must be brought to justice. I'm the first-born son; I cannot simply cede power to Giovanni without a fight." As the words leave my lips, I see anger flicker across her face, darkening her features.
"Is vengeance more important than happiness with me?" she demands, her voice sharp as a knife. "We've been given this chance, and you would throw it all away?"
"Isabella, we can still be happy together," I try to reason with her, but she shakes her head, her eyes filled with disappointment.
"No," she asserts firmly. "I won't be with someone who chooses to be consumed by a mafia civil war. I refuse to become like my father." The hurt is evidence in her eyes. “Is this the sort of life you want? Don’t you want to be able to see your son? Have a relationship with him? One you both can be proud of?” The frustration in her voice stings, and I can feel my own anger beginning to boil beneath my skin.
"I should go," I say curtly, trying to suppress the hurt that threatens to overwhelm me.
As I walk away from her, our conversation hangs heavy in the air, leaving me with a deep sense of regret and longing. My heart aches with the knowledge that the path I've chosen may lead me away from the one person who has ever truly understood me.
* * *
The halls of the mansion feel empty as I return, the air heavy with the absence of Charlie's presence. The silence is deafening, and my heart aches with each step I take. I make my way back to my study, where bottles of aged scotch line the shelves, their amber liquid beckoning me.
"Fuck it," I mutter to myself, grabbing one of the bottles and pouring a generous amount into a glass. The alcohol burns my throat, but it doesn't matter – I need the numbness it brings. Glass after glass disappears down my throat, my thoughts spiraling around Charlie's death and Isabella's words.
"Primo, what the hell are you doing?" Teddy's voice cuts through the haze, and I look up to see him standing in the doorway, an amused grin on his face.
"Drinking," I slur, gesturing to the bottle in my hand. "Join me?"
Teddy chuckles and walks over, sitting down beside me on the floor before grabbing a bottle for himself. He takes a swig directly from the bottle, wincing at the burn. "So, what's your plan now, big brother?"
"I don't know," I confess, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "Isabella wants me to just . . . walk away. But I can't. Not with Constantino still out there."
"Is that really what she wants?" Teddy probes, his eyes searching mine for the truth.
"More or less." I shrug, unable to elaborate further. "She made her choice."
"Did she? Or did you?" Teddy challenges, and I feel a flash of anger, but it quickly dissipates under the alcohol. I avoid his gaze, unwilling to confront the question.
"Let's not talk about it," I mumble before downing another glass. The world begins to spin, and I let the darkness claim me.
* * *
I wake with a start, disoriented and stiff from sleeping on the floor. Teddy's hand is on my shoulder, shaking me awake. "Rise and shine, sunshine," he says, his voice oddly chipper for the early hour. "I've got a clean-up job, and you're coming with me."
"Wha— Why?" I groan, rubbing my aching head.
"Because Carmine's grieving Charlie, and I'm not gonna ask him to help me with this one." Teddy's eyes are somber as he speaks of Charlie's son and his normal partner on jobs, and I know I can't argue.
"Fine," I mumble, dragging myself to my feet and following Teddy out to his van. It's a carpet cleaning van, complete with a cheesy slogan painted on the side. I smile, thinking about how Teddy chose this life all those years ago, much to our father's chagrin.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Teddy asks as he starts the van and begins to drive.