Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 136

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Genevieve swallowed hard as she met Michele’s marrow-deep glare from across his study. She fought to keep her emotions off her face as she walked forward and took one of the guest chairs with an exaggerated sigh. She looked around the ostentatiously decorated room as if this errand was interrupting her bi-weekly pilates class.

“O’Brien, answer me,” Michele demanded.

“You said I could bring one person.”

“You were supposed to bring…” Michele inhaled. “Leave.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be over before we know it. You wanted to talk. What difference does it make if she’s here?”

“Because she is the topic of conversation?” Gen guessed, feigning interest in her cuticles..

“She isn’t part of any family. She has no business in…”

“Actually she and Accardi married last week,” O’Brien supplied.

Gen looked up and smirked at Galante’s expression of shock. “Sorry about the invite. Must have gotten lost in the mail. You know how international

correspondence can be.”

The pen in Michele’s hand snapped, sending ink flowing down the back of his hand. He cursed and pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket.

“Let me see the coat of arms then,” Michele prompted.

Gen’s face drained of feeling. She resisted the urge to put a hand to her stomach. “The artist wasn’t available. The wedding was arranged quickly.”

Michele smiled and sat back in his chair as if he’d won something. He tsked. “Accardi in prison, his woman claiming false matrimony and crashing important

meetings.” Galante faced O’Brien. “Is she fucking you too?”

“Look,” Gen hissed, getting to her feet. “I married him. I’m an Accardi. Just because the tattooist wasn’t available doesn’t mean…”

“This is a private meeting, one I will not allow a fucking whore to sit in on so if you’d…”

Everyone turned to the door as shouts rang out from down the hall. She heard the distinct pop of three gunshots. O’Brien was beside her in a moment, his left hand held her upper arm while his right hand gripped a letter opener. A moment later the door swung open and Alessio Palladino strode in. One lock of hair hung over his eye, his collar had a spot of blood and the loops of his shoes weren’t perfectly centered. It was the most disheveled she’d ever seen him.

“Palladino? What the fuck are you doing here?” Michele asked.

“I was in town. Thought I would stop by.”

Michele looked down the hall through the open door. “And you felt the need to attack my men because…”

Alessio stopped in front of Michele’s desk. He put his gun back in a holster he had strapped to his chest and put his hands behind his back. “They refused to

let me in.”

Alessio’s eyes shifted to look at Gen. For a moment, a single breath in time, Gen saw a flicker of fear race through Alessio’s gaze. Her mouth didn’t even have time to fall open before the glimpse of vulnerability was gone. She blinked a few times to focus. Alessio was there. Leo must have gotten a hold of him.

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Leo was outside with reinforcements. She let out a breath, picturing all of her nerves exhaling with it, and cocked a brow at him.

“Palladino, so nice to see you. I feel like you disappeared half way through the reception,” Gen said casually.

“This woman is claiming to have married Accardi,” Michele said, gesturing at Gen.

“She did.”

“What?” Michele hissed. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Seems there’s a rift,” Alessio pondered.

“No one in the three families can marry without approval from the other Dons.”

“They have to be notified, not approved,” Gen growled at his audacity.

Michele rolled his eyes. “Either way.”

“A member of your family gave his blessing,” Alessio said placatingly. “Conor.”

“Conor? He’s not Don!”

O’Brien clapped his hands. “Oh, boy, this is so fun but I thought you needed to talk with me?”

“You think I’ll discuss our business with them?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Alessio asked, taking the seat beside Gen, subtly showing his support.

“It’s private.”

“Come now, Michele, we’re all family here, aren’t we?” Gen reminded him with a pointed glance at O’Brien.

“Shut up, bitch. You’re in my house,” Michele growled.

“Watch it,” Alessio warned.

“You’re taking her side? Get out! Both of you!”

Gen stood up sharply, drawing everyone’s eyes. “I came here to have a meeting with you, Galante, and I’m not leaving til I’ve gotten one.”

“Call my secretary.”

Gen shook her head. “I did. No one is answering my calls,” she admitted with a pout of her lips. Her confidence was growing, especially with Alessio at her back… and his gun. “I wonder why that is? Palladino? Any ideas?”

“One or two.”

“I’ll save you all the effort,” Gen began, resting her palms flat on his desk. “You’ve been running your men through our clubs, haven’t you, Galante? Not before, but certainly after my husband was arrested. You’ve been poaching our alliances, skimming our profits and trying to take what’s ours. That’s not to mention orchestrating the murders of Valentina and Antonio Accardi. I have to hand it to you. Giving ‘The Reaper’ over to Accardi knowing full well the only witness against you wouldn’t make it out alive? Brilliant. Only problem is, he is alive, isn’t he Palladino?”

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“Barely, but his heart is still beating.”

Gen watched Michele’s face whiten but he scoffed. “You’ll trust the word of a man on death row?”

“Silvan has him,” Alessio remarked coolly.

Michele’s eyes narrowed but Gen could see his adams apple bob as he swallowed. His black eyes flashed matte as he bent to retrieve a pack of cigarettes.

“You have no proof.”

“No?” Gen asked.

“No.”

“Lucky for you this meeting was sprung on me last minute and I don’t have my files,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “But I think I can manage to get what

I want without them.”

“And what’s that?” Michele asked, lighting up a cigarette and taking a long pull.

“Voglio delle fottute scuse,” Genevieve hissed, leaning closer.

Michele blew smoke through his lips into her face in one long steady stream. “You want an apology?” Michele asked, humor lacing each syllable.

“That’s what I said,” Gen agreed.

“You entitled little slut,” Michele growled.

“You want him to say he’s sorry?” O’Brien asked.

“She wants a duel to the death,” Alessio answered with a yawn.

“One she won’t get. You have no right to ask for an…”

Gen flashed him her left hand. “This ring says I fucking do.” She turned the same hand over to show the scar along her palm. “The blood flowing through

my veins says I do.”

“You need a third party to approve it and Palladino would never…”

“I might,” Alessio interrupted. “Once I’ve seen all the evidence that is.”

Gen sighed and dropped her head. She recalled her talk with Matteo before she’d left the prison. There was a reason why it was so important for Alessio to attend her meeting with Michele… and it wasn’t for her protection.

“You will have to rile him up,” Matteo had said with his lips tracing up her stomach. “He’ll say you have no evidence. You’ll give our evidence to Alessio and he will

debate about it.”

“You mean pretend to debate about it?” Gen had joked.

“No,” Matteo said with a serious shake of his head. “Alessio will really and truly scour each and every page with a fine-tooth comb.”

“What if he says no?” she asked.

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Matteo sighed. “Then, like I said, you’ll have to rile Michele up.”

“If I say what you told me to, he’ll try to kill me.”

“That’s the point, Weakness. That’s the quickest way to get us what we want. Can you do it?”

“I guess we’ll find out in the moment,”

Gen focused back on the here and now. Michele was waiting for her response. His black eyes sparkled as he felt he had won. Without any hard evidence, Alessio wouldn’t sign off on two family members trying to kill each other… no matter how civil or mutually desired the performance. She would have to force Michele to break a cardinal law. One he had already committed before she was Donna.

“So? What do you have to say?” Michele mocked. “Can I go about my meeting with O’Brien here or do you want to bitch and moan some more and waste all

of our time?”

“You know, before we came over here I was visiting my husband in prison,” Gen mused. “You’re aware of which prison he is being held in, right?”

Michele’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Accardi has met a few friends of yours…. Past friends, rather.”

“I know Accardi is in the same cell block as Philip. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Did you know that Conor is meeting with Philip tomorrow?”

“Genevieve,” Alessio warned, having not been brought in on this part of the plan.

“Do you know what they’re going to talk about?”

“Gen.”

“In exchange for some information, Conor’s going to convince Philip to sign a new contract, with himself as the one providing security for Philip’s family.

Your son knows what you have coming to you. He’s already making deals as if he were Don.”

Michele shot to his feet, knocking the chair out behind him. Gen didn’t flinch. She knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Conor will never forgive you for what you’ve done to him. You’ve severed the last tie to your family, Michele, You’ve lost your son. Your family is going to

crumble. Each and every last sacrifice you’ve made will mean fuck all. Even the sacrifices made by your loved ones… by your wife for instance.”

That’s what made him strike, Michele used the side of his handgun to pistol whip her across the face. The metal cut into her cheek before the force of his hit knocked her to the ground. She could hear commotion happening around the ringing in her ears as she pushed herself up on her palms. She’d strategically landed on her side but still found herself clutching her stomach. There was only pain in her head and she was grateful for that. It was a risky move, while being pregnant, but it was a necessary one,

Gen glanced up to find Michele pulling a long, slender letter opener from his shoulder while O’Brien kept him pinned to the wall, his expression murderous. The look in his eyes, the unfiltered anger and protection, made her doubts about him evaporate. If he were Michele’s child, he wouldn’t react this way to his father’s enemy, would he? Alessio knelt down beside her and helped her to her feet.

“I approve the apology,” Alessio announced.

“What?!” Michele bellowed from the wall. “You heard what she was saying to me!”

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“I did, and yet you don’t want to take another shot at her?” Alessio asked, one brow raised in challenge.

“She shouldn’t get the rights to set the time, place and weapon. That right should fall on me!”

“You struck a Donna. The rules are clear.”

“The rules state an apology can only be given if…” Michele’s eyes widened and dropped to her stomach.

“That’s right, Michele, I’m carrying Matteo’s child. You just struck a pregnant Donna. I will contact you with the details,” Gen announced.

She turned on her heels and made for the door. She ignored the shouting behind her as she fought the tears threatening to spill. She passed the maid

clutching her chest and rocking back and forth in the fetal position. She stepped over the three dead bodies in the front doorway. Gen hurried down the

steps and spotted Leo jumping out of an SUV. She ran toward him and he met her with open arms. She started to cry then, wailing into his chest, letting the

anger, the fear, the sadness flow.

“He knows,” she whispered. “He knows I’m pregnant.”

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Accardi