Mafia Men: Nikolai's Inferno - Chapter 97: Chapter 97

-Nikolai.
I stared at the box placed in front f my door. A plain black box with a pink ribbon tied to it neatly, like a birthday present. I could imagine it was the return gift for the package I sent over Moretti's territory. Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, "Do you want me to open it?"
"It could be a bomb that can detonate the second we'll open it," Scott voiced, lightly kicking the box.
"I don't think so," Marco added.
"Lorenzo, open it," I ordered.
Lorenzo dropped to his haunches and pulled the pink ribbon off the box, he took off the lid and we saw another box inside it. This one was wrapped up quite badly and it was enclosed in plastic wrap. Lorenzo pulled a cutter out of his pocket and stabbed the plastic wrap, cutting it, and making blood spill out of it.
The stench of rotten blood hit my nose, Lorenzo pulled the plastic off, and a decapitated head dropped out of it. wasn't any decapitated head, it was the severed head of my informant from Sicily. "Jesus fucking Christ," Marco laughed.
I clenched my hands into fists, his eyes were wide open and a little gift box was tucked into his mouth. Lorenzo pulled the box out of his mouth and opened it as well.
A handwritten note came into my view, it was the handwriting I knew all too well.
Motherfucker!
Lorenzo handed the note to me and I snatched it away from his hands.
"My Agamemnon... You patronize me like some little woman with no mind to call her own. I speak with a heart devoid of fear to those with wit to understand, and you can praise me or condemn me as you like, it's all the same to me."
-CLYTEMNESTRA, not Helen.
Ah, touché...
I wanted to know, I needed to know if the rumors were true that Moretti had my wife all this time. This package was sent by them, she fell right into my lap. She was frolicking around right under my nose all this time in Sicily.
I read the note again.
Agamemnon was a king who was murdered by his wife Clytemnestra. I think it pissed her off when I called her Helen of Troy. A ghost of a smile pulled over my lips.
She was still stupid little Evangeline, who thinks just because she got away, she was free, she can do whatever she wants that I won't find her and drag her back.
I have heard the rumors about a girl, being trained to take over the Moretti family in Sicily, I didn't believe them but then I listened to a man singing praises of the vicious beauty he saw at the Moretti's mansion. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and the sweetest piece of ass anyone has ever seen with a temper of a lioness.
It reminded me of someone, someone who fucking stabbed me in the back.
It piqued my interest in this mysterious vicious beauty but then again Evangeline can't kill anyone, she is too much of a baby to actually hurt someone.
I gathered all the fucking information, anything that could tie Evangeline to the Morrettis. It wasn't hard to figure out that Evangeline's mother had run away from home at the age of twenty-one with Elijah Bolton and her full name was Mary Celia Moretti.
Luca Moretti was Evangeline's uncle-that's the fucking reason he kept bugging me after Elijah's murder. He wanted to know about her, he wanted to know about Evangeline, so, he could fucking take her.
He was fucking sterile, he couldn't father a child and after Mary's murder, Evangeline was the only Moretti heir left. He took her, fucking brainwashed her.
Luca was pulling her strings, maybe even forcing her to do the things she doesn't want to do. This decapitated head and this message can be anything but Evangeline's doing. I'm going to find out about it soon now that I knew where she was.
"What does it say?" Scott asked with a deep frown.
"Nothing you will understand."
I stuffed the note into my pocket and watched the decapitated head once again. The things that I heard about the mysterious Moretti princess-Evangeline can never pull that off. Either it was all false or it was someone else. 4
-Evangeline.
"You think you can take him down?" Uncle Leo asked.
I sighed and started at the wall in front of me mindlessly. I have imagined myself in that room, replaying that night again and again. There were many versions of the last interaction I had with him in my mind.
In one version, he tells me that he lied. He didn't kill my parents, he didn't lie to me again and again. He didn't manipulate me into doing things I didn't want t do-for instance marrying him. He loves me, he loves me just like I loved him.
In the second version, after he tells me that he was the one who ordered the shooting of my parents, I pull his gun out and place over his forehead but then my hand starts trembling and I couldn't just pull the trigger. I couldn't kill him.
In every single one of my imaginations regarding Nikolai Costello, they all ended where I tried to kill him, and is failing miserably.
I realized maybe, I don't want to kill him, maybe I can't kill him but that doesn't mean, that I want to be tied to him for the rest of my life.
Our life started with a lie, it was not worth living together.
After he killed off my parents, I remember vividly what he told me about it. I told him that I wanted to go back to my house and that I didn't want to be a burden or anything; he said the people who killed my parents were lurking outside, waiting to kill me. How can he lie about that, I was unaware at the time but he knew what he was doing. He wanted to keep me.
He started all this with a lie.
And then when I felt myself getting physically closer to him, he turned it into a contract by asking me to not fall for him, it was like he was granting me favors. I was inexperienced and new to all those feelings, he had been the first man I felt myself getting physically attracted to. I was curious, I wanted to know... to feel what it was like to be a woman.
And then, he got engaged, and I left and got kidnapped but he still dragged me right back into his hell.
He asked me to marry him right after I had given him a blowjob, I thought it was high speaking but he was dead serious.
We got married, and the bride didn't even know that she was supposed to sign her marriage license in an hour. What kind of marriage was it?
We had our first time but then he changed, he stopped talking to me, paying attention to me, holding me accountable for my father's actions-the father he had already killed. He had taken his revenge unknowingly but he still punished me for things I had no control over.
I'm not saying that I was completely innocent in all this but it was wrong, all of it. It was a relationship based on lies and deceit.
Nikolai knew better-I didn't...
I loved him with all my heart...
And now I just want to be free... from all of it. I have found myself here but I don't want my life to end here, I have so much to do. I have the power now and I don't want to lose it ever again.
I like who I am now.
I don't think I can ever be this person with Nikolai Costello.
He is a powerful man, and I won't bend to his will.
I liked being the one with all the power, Nikolai will always treat me like a second-class citizen. I don't think I can take that anymore.
We can't live together now. It won't work, we won't work. We will probably kill each other.
Now that my uncle asked me this question, I couldn't help but think... Was I going to New York City to take him down?
No, I wasn't going to New York City to take Nikolai Costello down. It was his territory, he earned it. You can not threaten someone in their own territory.
Nikolai was experienced, he was born in this world. Even if I was now a different person, I couldn't compete with the amount of malice Nikolai had in him.
I was going to New York to be free of him, to be free of Nikolai Costello. I can't live with the fear of him coming for me every single day.
I wanted to end this tie with him.
This marriage was holding me down, I was going there to end this marriage, not end Nikolai Costello because there was a time I loved him too much to just kill him off like this-he will probably kill me before I even tried it.
I was going to end this marriage and live my life the way I want to.
I sighed once more and faced my uncle, I could hear the maids packing my stuff for the long flight.
"I'm not going to take him down, Uncle. I'm going so I can sever the tie I have with this man," I told him as the men took my suitcases out of the room, one by one.
"You're Catholic, he is Catholic. Divorce is out of the question..."
I lifted a shoulder, walked to the mirror, and put on my earrings, "Yeah, well, times have changed."
He shook his head, "Not in the Cosa Nostra."
I grabbed my red lipstick, "I don't belong to the Cosa Nostra anymore."
"I'm worried for you, Evangeline, that's all."
I extended the end of the bright, red lipstick and glided it over my lips. I puckered my lips like a kiss in the mirror and smiled, "He can do his worse, I'll be ready for him, Uncle, but unfortunately for him, he can't
kill me."
I grabbed my handbag, putting in my cell phone and other stuff. I glanced at myself one more time in the mirror. I was wearing a white jumpsuit with red heels and red lipstick.
"How can you be so sure?" he asked.
I turned, checking out my ass in the mirror, "Because even just the thought of my dead body makes him sick," I fake pouted, maybe he had changed his mind about it now. Maybe, he'd like the sight of my dead body very much.
Uncle Luca frowned, "How do you know that?"
I laughed slightly, shaking my head, "He told me that himself."
Uncle's eyes widened, "HE DID?" his voice got an octave higher.
"Nikolai has a side, I think I'm probably the only person who knows about that side, so, you don't have to worry about anything, I can handle Nikolai Costello."
"He might have changed, don't think a man like that would not be out for blood-"
I laughed, "Oh, Uncle, I expect him to. I expect this all to be completely messy, bloody, and gory but not at the cost of your men's lives."
"The car's ready," Enzo voiced, disrupting our conversation.
I went to uncle Luca and pulled him in for a hug. He hugged me back immediately, "Just take care of yourself out there, kiddo."
I pulled back with a wide smile, "The only one who needs prayers right now is Mr. Costello, Uncle."
I followed Enzo out of the house and said goodbye to Viola Moretti-the woman had loved me like my own mother never did.
We got into the car and Enzo drove to the airport. There was a private commercial jet waiting for us, a jet that belonged to the Italian government officials. I don't know how Roberto Lombardi pulled this off but he somehow did.
I came here to Sicily-alone, hurt, wounded, and crying, and now I was going back to New York City with three hundred and thirty men loyal to only the Moretti's name and Leo-the man who actually loved me like a daughter my whole life while my father was too busy scheming and plotting.
I sighed and watched the buildings passing us by as the plane flew off the ground.
I'm not the same stupid little girl anymore, Nikolai.