Elect - Dyken Rachel Van (электронные книги бесплатно .txt) 📗

“Right away.” Tex pulled out his cell and started making arrangements.

“And the funeral,” I said. “We can’t forget about Phoenix.”

“No.” Chase nodded. “We won’t forget him.”

Chapter Fifty-two Nixon

I watched as the men slowly began trickling into my house. Most of them were so damn happy to see me alive it was as if there wasn’t this giant elephant in the room—Chase being boss, and me being… what? What was I? I grabbed a glass of wine and took a seat.

Chase called the meeting to order just as Sergio walked in.

The men began to whisper between themselves.

And then Frank Alfero walked in, with Luca.

It hadn’t occurred to me until now how much power was sitting in that room. The head of the Nicolosi family from Sicily, the Abandonatos, and the Alfero mafia boss. Frank nodded at me and took a seat opposite on the couch.

“Gentlemen.” Chase cleared his throat. “Please welcome Luca Nicolosi and Frank Alfero. They’ve been gracious enough to attend our meeting.”

Luca nodded at Chase. “Someone has to clear the air.”

Over the next hour Luca explained in great detail the plans that had unfolded over the past few weeks. How I’d gone to him and staged my own death in order to snuff out Tony. How I needed more proof and how, in a moment of clarity, the De Lange boss, Phoenix, had redeemed himself by not only helping us, but by finishing off the rat that put us in that situation in the first place.

I watched as men, the ones I had grown up with, the ones I had looked up to, shook their heads, slapped backs with one another and began mumbling prayers under their breath.

Yes. We were the mafia.

But when family died? When lives were uselessly lost in our tight-knit family? That wasn’t business. No, it was tragedy and each and every one of them knew it.

When Luca was finished, Frank stood. “I’d like to say something.” He cleared his throat and looked around the room. “I’d like to thank your family. Not only did you put me into hiding, but you protected my granddaughter at all costs. It’s because of you that I may finally let go of the death of my son and daughter. It is because of you that I am able to hold my head high once again. I owe you my allegiance. This fighting, between us, it ends. It ends now.” He took his seat.

Chase stood. “There is one more thing to discuss.”

I knew how uncomfortable it would make him, so I stood and walked over to his side, giving him silent encouragement with my presence.

“Nixon and I…” He looked to the ceiling. “Well, we discovered some things about our pasts—things that really shouldn’t matter anymore. Regardless of my own parentage, and regardless of his, I motion to reinstate Nixon as the boss.”

“Chase,” I growled. “What the hell are you doing?”

He turned to me and grinned. “My damn job, like you ordered me to.”

It was unanimous. Chase slapped me on the back and left the middle of the room. I wasn’t sure how I felt, but for some reason it was right. Even though I wasn’t blood related to my father, even though normally that was how things worked. I was good at what I did. And I wanted it. Sadly, I couldn’t bask in the glory of it that long, not when I realized that now things were once again backward. If Trace wanted to end up with Chase, he was once again the safer choice. Damn.

“One more thing.” Luca stood. “Since I am here, it is imperative that we notify the De Lange family of the happenings. It is also crucial that the next boss be appointed.”

“Did Phoenix have any brothers?” Sergio asked.

“No.” I chuckled and looked at Chase. “But he has a hell of a stepsister.”

“A woman?” a man asked.

“It has been done before,” another answered. “Is not the most peaceful city in Sicily run by a woman?”

“True.” Luca seemed to think on it. “Shall I bring it up to the family?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Bring it up?” I nodded. “Seems to me your way of bringing things up includes threats with death and Lake Michigan.”

Luca shrugged. “I cannot help that I am one for dramatics.”

Frank rolled his eyes in my direction.

“Fine.” I nodded. “Notify the family and Emiliana. I want it to be done before you leave, Luca, and the funeral, too.”

“Done,” he said. “Now, let us make a toast.”

Each man raised their drinks.

“A toast,” Luca said, “to family.”

“Familia!” Everyone cheered and drank.

Chapter Fifty-three Chase

Things were set to rights. I knew Nixon was probably thinking in the back of his mind that I’d handed the job back to him so I could have Trace—he couldn’t be more wrong. I gave him the title because I knew I didn’t have what it took to pull it off. Nixon was a badass, he was… ridiculously loyal and selfless. In the end I knew that I would choose me over someone else.

And that’s why I didn’t deserve Trace.

Because in the end, I chose myself—not her. Had I chosen her, I wouldn’t have put her in the position I did.

In the end, I was selfish in my pursuit of her. I loved her… and maybe that was the problem. My love for her overshadowed everything else. I would have run away with her without looking back.

The men dispersed.

I sat at the table twirling a glass between my hands.

All the lights were off.

It was just me and a vintage bottle of whiskey.

Good lord, I was depressing.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder and looked up. Trace was standing over me, her eyes sad. I couldn’t look at her. I had to look away; my breath hitched as her hand slid down my arm and then touched my hand. I gripped it, I held on for dear life.

“Chase I—”

I closed my eyes and just listened to her voice. “Say my name again… please.”

“Chase.” She choked a bit. “Chase, Chase, Chase…” She released my hand and grabbed my face between her palms. “Chase.”

I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers, holding her with my gaze, begging her with my soul… Me, choose me. Because I need you. More than I want to admit.

Her mouth met mine in a gentle kiss. For a brief moment, I was relieved, I thought maybe she was choosing me, maybe it was just going to be us, maybe there was a happy ending and we’d ride out into the sunset. But she pulled back too soon. I leaned forward, our foreheads touched.

She spoke so softly I almost didn’t hear her. “I’m so mad at you.”

“I know.” I sighed.

“You lied to me, Chase. You made me…” Her eyes closed. “You made me choose. I relied on you for everything. You were my survival and you betrayed me, you betrayed what we were, what we had.”

Nodding, I tried to pull away from her but she wouldn’t let me. Her hands were like a vise grip on my head.

“You made me love you—made me rely on you… Because of you, I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole for him. I don’t know if I can be that girl that he first loved. And I want to hate you for it, except you’ve made me love you so damn much that it hurts.”

“Trace I—”

Her lips silenced me, again, a brief kiss, a brief velvet touch of her lower lip and then she pulled back again. “I do love you… but…”

“But?” I knew it was coming. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I broke out into a cold sweat.

“Chase.” She pulled away and wiped a tear from her eye. “You have my heart, but Nixon… he owns my soul.”

I shuddered; it felt as if she had just grabbed a knife and rather than stab me in the back, told me that she was going to cut me deep through the chest. In the end I would have preferred the sneak attack, because maybe then I wouldn’t have to watch those gorgeous brown eyes well up with tears as I nodded and felt my chest constrict until I thought my body was going to explode under the pressure.

The cold knife went straight for my heart—it pierced the muscle, ceasing it from beating, but didn’t end there. Had she been merely rejecting me, the pain would have stopped, but she wasn’t just rejecting me, she was disappointed in me, and still choosing another. So the knife twisted; it twisted until I went numb and then… I closed my eyes as I savored the feeling of everything in my world stopping.