I shake my head, not wanting to believe he’s gone. “I hope you, Silas, and my dad are partying it up, reunited again.”
I’M STANDING OUTSIDE WITH Roman as Dante and his men carry Raff out in a body bag. I’m not going to sugarcoat it—it’s a hard thing to see. I always imagined he’d live well into his nineties, sitting in his recliner and still choosing to watch TV shows in black and white. Instead, he was ripped away from us like so many others before him.
“If Dmitri thought I was after him before,” I growl lowly, “his mind can’t even dream of what I’m going to do to him now.”
Ro nods, taking a paper out of his pocket. “I found this taped to the back of Raff’s neck.”
I grab the small piece of paper and read it over.
Look familiar, Kagey-boy?
Guess I wasn’t next after all.
- D.P.
My anger spikes once more, and I crumble the note in my hand. “This means war. I don’t care if I have to kill every goddamn Bratva I come across. I want to wear his intestines as a necklace of honor.”
WALKING THROUGH THE FRONT door of my house, I’m exhausted and wide awake all at the same time. Saxon runs across the foyer and crashes against my chest, wrapping her arms around me. Beni follows behind her and gives me a sad smile.
“He make it to the funeral home safely?” he questions.
I nod. “Roman is staying there tonight. Cesari will take tomorrow.”
It’s customary in the Familia that those who die in honor get looked after until they're laid to rest. I followed the hearse the whole way from Raff’s house, making sure that Dmitri and his fuckwits didn’t try anything to destroy the body in transit. Roman rode with me, and when we got there, he nodded respectfully and walked inside behind the funeral staff with Raff.
“If you don’t need me, I’d like to take tomorrow night,” he requests.
“I’ll allow it,” I tell him. “Roman will take your place here. I just need you to stay with Saxon tomorrow during the day while I take care of a few things.”
“Absolutely.”
Saxon buries her face into my chest, breathing me in, and in a way, it helps. But just like when she woke up in the hospital, I can feel parts of me closing off. And the result is the same.
The only thing that will help me heal is getting my hands on Dmitri and ripping him limb from limb.
ONE OF THE HARDEST parts of losing someone is having to feel that loss over and over again as you deliver the news to their loved ones. It’s as if you’re in a perpetual loop of grief and misery as you mentally relive the moment part of your world died. And this time will be no different.
Viola holds her head high as she walks beside me into the facility. There isn’t a single tear in her eyes, telling me she pushed it all down and numbed herself to it. She’s like me in that regard. We’re stronger when we refuse to acknowledge the pain.
“You ready?” I ask her as we stop outside of the room.
She chuckles dryly. “Ready or not, here we go.”
Turning the corner, I see the woman who stood by Raff’s side for so many years. Cecilia has always been a beautiful woman. Even at her age, with her mix of gray and blonde hair that goes down to her shoulders, you can tell she was a knockout in her day.
“Hey Mom,” Viola greets her, a note of hope in her voice.
Cecilia looks up at us both, and Viola’s shoulders sag as it becomes obvious there’s no recollection in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, hello.”
Vi glances back at me, shaking her head in disappointment. She didn’t mention it, but I knew she was hoping her mom would be lucid for this conversation. Otherwise, there’s virtually no point in having it. With her early-onset dementia, she won’t remember a thing.
I remember when it started. Raff tried everything in his power to take care of her. He asked for permission to step away from any duties he had to the Familia so he could be her full-time caregiver. I granted his request without hesitation, but when she got worse, it was too much for him to handle. It reached a point where he was jeopardizing her safety by having her at home. After the morning she lit a fire in the kitchen after forgetting the stove was on, he decided to make the difficult decision to put her in an assisted living facility.
And her brain has only deteriorated from there.
The bouts of lucidity became shorter and less often until she completely forgot who we all were. But he still came every day and brought her a single rose for her vase. He’d read her the news like he used to do when they’d drink their coffee in the morning, and then he’d kiss her forehead and leave.
“Do you still want to tell her?” I murmur softly to Viola.
She sighs. “No. We’ll wait until the day she’s lucid, if that day ever comes.”
I nod in understanding as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing Mattia’s name on the screen.
“Excuse me while I take this,” I murmur and step out of the room.
Taking a calming breath, I look up and down the hall before pressing the phone to my ear.
“What?”
Mattia’s voice has a sorrowful tone to it. “I heard about Raff and wanted to express my deepest condolences to you and your family.”
I scoff. “Yeah, well, while you’re at it, maybe you could explain to me how this man managed to get inside Raff’s house and kill him while I’m paying you and Costello thousands of dollars an hour to find the son of a bitch.”
“He’s a difficult guy to track down,” he explains. “Almost never shows his face and only travels in the dead of night. It was even rumored he was on a flight back to Russia after Vlad’s death. There was no way we could have seen this coming. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your excuses, Mattia,” I growl. “What I want is Dmitri’s location so I can rip his jugular straight from his throat. I don’t care what it takes or if you don’t sleep a wink for three days straight. Make it fucking happen.”
Just as I hang up the phone, Viola steps out into the hall. She runs her fingers through her hair, looking like she’s both numb and barely holding it together all at once. She glances back at her mother before looking at me.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” she says honestly. “This place is expensive, and Nico and I can’t care for her in her condition.”
I put my hands on her shoulders to stop her. “Don’t worry about that. She’s family, and she will be taken care of as such.”
Tears fill her eyes as she nods and wraps her arms around my waist. Usually I would shove her off me. Showing compassion isn’t something I do unless the person happens to have black hair, blue eyes, and an unmatched ability to drive me insane. But all Raff wanted while he was alive was for us to be there for each other like siblings, and the least I can do is give him that while we all mourn his loss.
WHEN YOU THINK OF a funeral, you tend to picture dreary weather with cloud-covered skies and a wind chill that makes you shiver. But not Raff’s. The sun shines brightly over his casket, making it so all of us can feel its warmth. I can’t help but wonder if that was his doing. Unfortunately, if his intention was to change my mood, it isn’t working.