Chapter XXVIII: Private Investigation

Rosalie rubbed her eyes tiredly as she turned off the television, glancing at her phone; she noticed it to be 4 a.m. After dinner, she had told Arcangelo that she wanted to watch a movie, and him being him, he didn't refuse and watched a movie with her. One movie turned into two and next thing she knew, they had watched three movies. Sighing, Rosalie turned to look at Arcangelo, about to ask him why he didn't remind her of the time.
As she turned, her gaze landed on his sleeping figure as he lay on his stomach, an arm beneath his pillow with his face turned towards her, his lips slightly parted. A small smile overcame her features as she placed a kiss on his forehead before quietly slipping out from beneath the covers in order to change out of her clothes. Pulling on her baby pink silk pajama set, she braided her hair before making her way back to Arcangelo.
Lying down beside him, she didn't bother turning off the lamp as she admired his features. The wrinkles and creases smoothening out as he looked younger, defenseless, even.
Things had been hard on him, she knew. Arcangelo hardly managed an hour or two of sleep per night, and then he was constantly there for her; day-in and day-out, he was there. If she woke up in the middle of the night, he would wake up by her distress, and stay awake with her, listening to her tell her dream and soothe her. After sacrificing his sleep, he had refused to meet anyone, go anywhere and whatever matters that needed to be dealt with were written on paper and sent to him, in his room where he was constantly in Rosalie's view. However, the past couple of days, she could see that everything was starting to wear down on him.
She could visibly see his exhaustion, he was suffering from a lot of headaches, disorientation, sore muscles and he couldn't seem to keep his eyes open for long much less bring himself to eat. He once had stopped working because a headache was so blinding that he couldn't even manage to pick up a pen. According to his doctor, he was showing symptoms of fatigue and he needed to either stop or slow down. But with him being as stubborn as he was, he dismissed the doctor's words.
Rosalie caressed his cheek as wondered if he would wake up in the middle of the night with his exhaustion.
Admiring his serenity, Rosalie's eyes were drawn to the scar around his eyes as his words rang through her head again.
She cared for him deeply, and when he told her everything, she couldn't bring herself to breathe after the revelation. For some unbeknownst reason, she didn't feel remorse that he had his father killed, a part of her was happy about that fact. However, she couldn't bring herself to understand how the order of the assassination of one person ended with the death of dozens.
It didn't make sense.
Due to that very reason, Rosalie would be leaving in the morning and conducting a little investigation of her own.
She didn't believe that Arcangelo was the cause of death for all the other guests. She could feel the wrongness of it all in her bones.
It was common knowledge that upon having received the news of the massacre, Arcangelo refused to pursue the matter any further believing it was all his doing, and day after day, she could see how he punished himself for it. His self-destructive tendencies gradually becoming more and more prominent and Rosalie knew it was only a matter of time before he did something horrible.
For that very reason, she was going to the police station in the morning, ask for the case files and conduct a private investigation of her own. Being the daughter of a retired police commissioner often had its perks.
Mentally nodding to herself, Rosalie placed a kiss on Arcangelo's forehead before snuggling next to him, closing her eyes to fall asleep.
She awoke due to the sound of her alarm, momentarily disoriented and dazed before fumbling for the device. Turning it off she glanced towards Arcangelo, seeing him still to be fast asleep and lightly snoring. A soft smile graced her lips as she sat up, rubbing her eyes before pattering across the wooden flooring and quietly opening the bedroom door.
"Good morning." She whispered quietly to Major and Gun who both were either sitting or standing against the wall.
Quickly the jumped to attention as they greeted her in return.
"Is everything alright, madam?" Major asked, noticing the time to be 6 a.m in the morning.
"Everything is alright," Rosalie assured. "I was just wondering if one of you could ask Teresa to prepare breakfast for me. Also, can you let Salv know that I have a couple of errands I want to get done with?"
"Of course, ma'am..." Both men spoke uncertain, knowing that Rosalie had gone into self-induced solitary confinement and this sudden change of waking up early and wanting breakfast and errands was all very...different, "Anything else?"
"Yes, please do not wake up Arcangelo. He hasn't slept at all over the past couple of days and I want him to get as much sleep as possible. I don't care if the world is ending and people are dying to meet him, no one will disturb him." Rosalie stated firmly, both the men glancing at each other in surprise before turning back to her. "Can I trust you two to look after him while I'm gone?"
"It is our duty to look after him," Gun spoke as he stood up straighter.
"Good."
With that said Rosalie went back inside, silently closing the door behind her before heading for a shower. Once she was done with drying her hair, Rosalie peeked into the room, seeing Arcangelo still fast asleep as she pulled on a plain navy blue pencil skirt dress with a matching blazer on top. Grabbing her bag and shoes, Rosalie tiptoed out of the closet, quickly going over to Arcangelo, placing a kiss on his temple before scurrying out the room.
The door closed behind her with a distinctive click. Letting out a relieved exhale, she braced herself against the wall before pulling on a pair of black platform pencil heels. Brushing her hair out of her face, she greeted Salv with a smile as he nodded back at her, standing in a black two-piece suit with his hands folded before him.
"Breakfast is set for you downstairs." He informed her with a gentle bow of his head.
"Great, I'm famished."
Her heels clicked against the marble flooring of the estate before she went and settled down in the dining room. Practically scarfing down her breakfast, Rosalie quickly drank her coffee before urging Salvatore to get going.
"Where are we heading, madam?" Salv asked as they both got buckled into the Range Rover.
"Tuscany Police Station,"
The look of surprise on his expression was evident, but he didn't dare question his boss's girlfriend. Instead, he put the gear into the drive before making his way to the station.
Rosalie was very fidgety throughout the car-ride there and her mind conjured up various scenarios of what she would discover. But she had made up her mind that she would pull through with this. There would be some form of empirical proof indicating if people died due to Arcangelo or if there was an uncovered truth behind the whole massacre.
She knew that if she was proven right, she would bring the truth into the light, give Arcangelo the closure he needed. But if she was wrong, and he was the cause behind it all, she would keep the information to herself.
She knew what needed to be done.
Just as she had been going over the plan in her mind, the car came to a halt. Inhaling deeply, Rosalie stepped out of the car and made her way to the police station, Salv close behind. Upon her entrance, men turned to watch in amusement as she made her way through the office and towards what she assumed to be the reception.
"Can I help you?" The man behind the desk asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, I am here to review the files of the King's Auction Massacre in 04'," Rosalie stated confidently, the man looking unperturbed.
"That trail ran cold a long time ago, sweetheart." The man told her.
"I am here to review the information and that is what I'll do."
"And who are you again?"
"Rosalie Allegro." She informed, standing straight before him. "Commissioner Allegro's daughter,"
"Right, and I'm the President of England." The man chortled sarcastically.
"Actually, England is an aristocratic state and is therefore ruled by Royalty, so it isn't possible for you to be a president." Rosalie retorted, retrieving her phone. "And do you need me to make a call in order to receive the files on a 4-year-old cold case or will we do fine without it?"
The man glared at her from behind his coffee mug, staring at the phone in her hand before looking back at the raised eyebrow Rosalie was giving him. Grumbling under his breath, he marched into a room and disappeared behind a wall. He returned 5 minutes later with a stack of files, plopping them onto the counter before taking a step back.
"You can't take them out of the vicinity without authorization." The man growled at her. "So you better sit where I can see you."
"I know standard police protocol, officer," Rosalie stated with a smirk as Salv helped her take the files to a table in the back.
Settling down, Rosalie asked Salvatore to help her through the files, asking him to go through half the stack as she went through the other half, asking him to look through the report and note down the cause of death for each person.
They had reviewed more than an hour the files in silence, going over the list of guest and their cause of death before a strangled sound escaped Salvatore, his gaze on the file in his hand before he looked back at Rosalie with wide eyes.
"Are you out of your mind?" He hissed, ignoring the fact that this was his boss's girlfriend. "This is the death report of Antonio Regnante, Boss's father, his predecessor? What the fuck is all this?"
Instantly, Rosalie grabbed the file, staring down at the form as she found the cause of death: single .25 caliber bullet to the head and according to the time stamp, he had died between 8 and 9 p.m.
Scribbling down the information, she rummaged through the piles, taking out the files for Helen, Onofrio, and Ellie.
Just as she hoped, their time of death was between 10-11 p.m. and their cause of death was multiple bullet wounds of .40 calibers.
A sound between a laugh and gasp escaped her as she looked at the cause of death for the remaining guests. All of them have suffered multiple bullet wounds of .40 caliber. Antonio was the only one who was shot down by a .25 caliber bullet, the guns didn't match. Arcangelo's orders were carried out, only Antonio was killed on his order, but someone else had other plans for the same night and massacred the guests of King's Auction on the same night the assassination was to take place.
Smiling to herself, she sagged in her seat, having evidence to prove her claim.
Grabbing the files, she started to gather everything before Salvatore's words forced her to freeze.
"Does Boss know what you're doing?" He asked her in a chilling voice, his arms crossed over his chest. "Does he know that you're investigating the assassination of his family, behind his back, that is?"
Rosalie remained quiet as she was staring down at the guest list and the two lists they both had made, the people and their cause of death. One name catching her eye as she pulled the sheet towards her.
"I'll take your silence as a 'no'." The older man sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "We are royally screwed."
"There is a survivor," Rosalie muttered as she looked at the file, seeing no cause of death, just a medical report of an injury. "I have a witness." She gasped in surprise, having gotten more than she bargained for.
"What are you on about, woman?" Salvatore asked in confusion as he watched Rosalie pull forward the files, momentarily glancing at the surroundings, ensuring no one was watching before snapping quick pictures of the death reports and the medical file of the survivor. Hastily putting her phone away, she closed the files before picking some up, Salvatore close behind with the remaining file.
Returning them, they made their way out the station and settled into the car. The guard didn't bother questioning her as she was intently staring at the screen of her phone, reading and re-reading the reports as she tried to figure out who the survivor was and if she could manage to get an address.
Soon they arrived back to the estate as Rosalie stepped out, her gaze still fixated on the screen as she blindly made her way inside, muttering to herself.
The feeling of unease washed over her as she crossed the threshold, feeling something to be horribly wrong. Looking up, she noticed a handful of people standing around the landing, all of them silent with their gazes downcast as she noticed a couple of the maids peeking through the kitchen door.
Glancing up, she noticed Arcangelo be standing against the wall before her, looking handsome in black slacks with a blue pinstriped button-up beneath a faun colored waistcoat, a chocolate brown tie around his collar. His black hair pushed out of his eyes as his face was devoid of any emotions, his eyes staring directly at her.
"Arcangelo-" She started to say, excited to share her discovery with him but fell quiet as he held up a hand to silence her.
Instantly her words died in her throat as she noticed the four guys nervously standing in various corners of the room, both Major and Gun not too far away as she could feel the tension in the air; thick enough to be suffocating.
"Imagine something for me..." Arcangelo trailed calmly, pushing himself off the wall as he made a slow approach towards her. "Imagine, looking after a traumatized person who is suffering from nightmares, insomnia, paranoia and whose actions are an uncertainty."
"Imagine looking after that person, knowing that they are your responsibility and you are supposed to look after them." He resumed halting a couple of feet before her, glaring her down as she shuffled her feet. "Now imagine, waking up one fine morning, realizing that this person isn't beside you."
"Imagine waking up, finding the room empty, no trace of them with you having absolutely no idea where they are or if they are safe or with whom they might be. Imagine the confusion and worry and the anxiety which eats up at a person having no idea where the other is or if they are hurt because of a threat over their heads." He spoke in a venomous tone as Rosalie winced, unable to meet his gaze.
"Now imagine, asking the guards, assigned to ensure their safety, their whereabouts." He chuckled darkly. "Imagine that never-ending concern which is bubbling over when they respond with "we don't know, sir"."
"Arcangelo-" Rosalie started to talk again,
"-Was I fucking done?!" He snapped, instantly causing her to fall silent as she looked down at her shoes. "You don't fucking tell me where the fuck you went at bloody 6 a.m. in the godforsaken morning and expect me to be absolutely peachy with it?!"
"No, I-"
"-You don't fucking tell me, much less ask me if it's alright for you to leave and assume you can do whatever fucked up shit comes into your mind whenever you please at any given moment of any given day." He growled out menacingly, moving closer to her as she hunched her shoulders.
"Put yourself in my shoes for one fucking second-" Arcangelo seethed through gritted teeth. "For just one fucking second, imagine what I went through when I realized you weren't there when I woke up."
"Just try to fucking comprehend what went through my head at realizing that you're not there."
"And then try to further comprehend what I went through when neither Major, nor Gun, or any fucking soul in this forsaken estate, knew where the fuck you were!" He roared, losing his composure as his voice ricochet off the walls, Rosalie jumping back in fright. "I wake up to find out that you are not there, then my most trusted and loyal men are fucking clueless like fucking baboons as to your fucking whereabouts. And then neither you nor the guard you took with you is answering your phones, what the fuck am I supposed to think about that, huh? And they only know that the 'world can be fucking ending and people can be fucking dying' but I am not meant to be fucking disturbed?" He quoted her in seething disbelief.
"No, that's not-"
"Who the fuck do you think you are to fucking decide when I need to be told something or when not?" He asked her humorlessly, his gaze cold and unnerving as she couldn't bring herself to say anything. "I put every godforsaken thing on the line for you."
"I am causing deliberate damage to my business by refusing to cater to any mafia boss's demands, much less meeting with anyone. No allies, no enemies, no business transactions, fucking nothing. Then on top of that, I am constantly in your vicinity, you are purposely made aware of every single item on my agenda so that you know that I am right there. Then, I am slowly poisoning myself with this fatigue onset which I am going through because I am not going to let you suffer alone. I know what trauma feels like and it's not a walk on some beach. But the worst of all," He chuckled darkly, shaking his head in disappointment. "Worst of all, I sent my son to stay with that that puttana so that I can look after you, and you don't have the fucking decency to inform me of your whereabouts?"
"I can't even fucking look at you right now," Arcangelo growled, walking away from her as tears welled in Rosalie's eyes. "Major, take her upstairs and keep her there. Tie her down if you fucking have to."
"Yes, boss." Major nodded quietly as he walked over to Rosalie, gesturing towards the stairs as she swallowed thickly, exhaling shakily as she started to make her way up the stairs but turned around in concern at his next words.
"Romano," He growled over his shoulder at Salvatore, Arcangelo's anger still hot and sharp. "With me,"
"You better have some damn good explanation to give me or so help me God, you both are fucking screwed."