Chapter 17
SALVATORE
Istepped out of the room when I saw Roman’s call come in and left Dr. Mooney to wrap Lucia’s leg. I was right; just a sprain, but painful nonetheless.
“Roman,” I said as I entered my study and shut the door.
“Well, you know how to make an entrance.”
“He kidnapped Jacob from the daycare. This is after he’d gone to Natalie’s house a few days ago, and she’d refused to let him in. He was sending a message, Roman. I wanted to be sure he received mine loud and clear.”
“Well, your father was pissed. You were gone for most of that, though.”
“Really? Franco Benedetti pissed at the son that’s not me for a change?”
“Franco can be pigheaded sometimes, Salvatore. We both know that. He’s tougher on you because he knows you’ll be the one replacing him, but he can’t ignore Dominic.
Franco is more aware than you think of the potential threat Dominic presents, and this stunt with Jacob banished any doubts he may have still clung to. ”
“Finally,” I said sarcastically.
“Either way, unless Dominic is stupid, he won’t go near Natalie or Jacob again. Franco’s gone out there himself to make sure she knows she and his grandson will have his protection.”
“Neither Dominic nor I hold a candle to Sergio, even in death.” I hated that I felt this pang of jealousy toward Sergio, as tiny as it was. I’d known this all my life, but it had never come between us. And I wouldn’t let it now. “Never have and never will.”
“The fact that Sergio is gone still hurts your father. He doesn’t love you any less. He’s just missing one child. He is human, after all.”
I didn’t comment.
“I want to talk to you about the DNA test, Salvatore.”
“Go on.” I hadn’t yet had a chance to read through the rest of the report to get a clearer understanding of the results.
“When the results came back, disqualifying Luke as the father, I used a sample from myself. Family shares DNA, in some cases more than in others, but there is always something.”
Roman had studied genealogy for a while and was in the process of compiling his family tree.
“What made you do that?” Was I ready to hear what he would tell me?
“A hunch. Effie DeMarco shares at least some of our DNA, Salvatore.”
I sat down. Hearing it was different than thinking it.
“I’m obviously not the little girl’s father, but I’m running more tests today. I took a sample from Dominic’s home.”
“What, did you swab him?” I chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor behind it.
“Took the hair off his brush.”
“When will you know for sure?”
“I’m hoping within twenty-four hours.”
“Does my father know anything about this?”
“No. Nothing. He won’t find out unless I’m one hundred percent certain.”
I leaned back, exhaling. “So Dominic’s been having an affair with Isabella DeMarco for five years?”
“That I don’t know.”
“Where do his loyalties lie, I wonder? And how does Luke DeMarco play into this? This just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”
“Talk to Lucia. See if you can glean any information at all. She may not be aware herself, Salvatore.”
“I think she’s innocent.” No, I knew it. And this knowledge would only hurt her.
“I’ll get back to you as soon as I know more.”
“Thank you, Roman.”
I made one more call to check on Natalie, who had called in sick to work and was spending the day with Jacob at home. She knew my father was on his way, and although not pleased about it, she seemed reasonably calm and promised to call me once he’d left.
When I returned to the living room, Dr. Mooney was just packing up his things.
“Just keep it iced and wrapped. You’ll be fine in no time. I’ve already ordered crutches. They’ll be here hopefully within the next hour or two.”
“How long will I need those?” Lucia asked.
“Only as long as you feel pain when putting any weight on your leg. I don’t think long, a week or two.”
“Thank you, Dr. Mooney.” I extended my hand and shook his.
“You’re welcome, Salvatore.” He turned back to Lucia and shook her hand as well. “It was nice to meet you, my dear. Call if you need anything at all.”
“I will. Thanks again.”
Rainey walked Dr. Mooney out, and I took a seat beside Lucia.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you with my question, Lucia.”
“But you did, Salvatore. That’s the point. Ever hear the saying ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions?’”
“Let’s go sit by the pool before it gets too hot.”
“I said I don’t—”
Ignoring her, I lifted her into my arms and carried her out. Lucia simply sighed.
“Can you bring my lemonade at least?”
“Sure. Would you like something to eat?”
She gave me a cautious look. “I think I smelled cake.”
I had too. Rainey had been baking. “I’ll be right back.”
In the kitchen, I sliced two chunks of the still-warm cinnamon cake I found cooling on the counter and set them on a tray along with two fresh glasses of lemonade.
Back outside, I handed one of the plates to Lucia and placed her lemonade on the table beside her lounge chair before taking the seat by hers.
“This is Rainey’s signature cake.” Not bothering with the fork, I picked up the fat chunk I’d sliced for myself and bit into it. “God, it’s delicious.”
“I’m going to get fat,” Lucia said through her mouthful.
“I’ll make sure you get enough exercise.”
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, then returned her attention to the cake on her plate in her lap.
“We need to talk about last night.”
“I thought we had.”
“About what you overheard.”
Her wary gaze met mine. “She’s my sister, Salvatore.”
“Jacob was very afraid, Lucia. If Isabella had anything to do with that, I think it’s important I know.”
She rubbed her face with both hands then pushed her fingers into her hair and pulled at the roots.
“I don’t know, Salvatore. What happened to that little boy, what Dominic did, was cruel.
I hope to God my sister wasn’t involved in anything like that.
The Izzy I knew wouldn’t be. She’d never hurt a child.
And I know he wasn’t physically hurt, but taking him without his mom knowing?
Freaking her out like that, and scaring the little boy? I just—”
She looked away and shook her head. When she turned back to me, her eyes glistened with tears.
“Thing is, I don’t know her anymore. I’ve shut everyone out for so long that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I thought this was black-and-white. I hated the Benedetti family. Period. But my sister involved in or even possibly orchestrating something like the kidnapping of a child?”
She shook her head again, her face lined with worry.
“She’s a mother herself. How…what’s happened to us?”
“Too much hate. Too much power,” I said.
“Too much of a lust for blood and vengeance. War never makes friends out of enemies. The opposite. It solidifies that hate. The war between Benedetti and DeMarco may have been fought in our fathers’ time, but we inherit the hate, the bad blood.
It doesn’t just go away. It carries down generation to generation. ”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You have every right to.”
“I don’t. You’re not like them, Salvatore.”
But I was. I had killed. I had taken. I had lived off blood money.
I’d shed that very blood with my own two hands.
Standing up to my father after whipping Lucia, though, and then today—walking away, not giving a shit about what he thought—was I changing?
Was I finally growing out of my father’s shadow and casting my own?
And would mine be as dark as his?
“I asked Roman to run a paternity test on Effie, Lucia.”
“I don’t want to know.”
She started to stand but then realized she couldn’t without my help. Which was precisely why I’d laid her on one of the lounge chairs rather than sitting her on a chair.
I touched her arm. “You have to know.”
She closed her eyes and reopened them after a minute but remained silent, waiting.
“Luke isn’t her father.”
From the look on her face, I had the feeling she knew that.
“She carries DNA from my family.” Christ, was I saying this out loud?
A tear rolled down each of Lucia’s cheeks, and I knew she knew.
“They’re testing Dominic’s DNA now. We’ll know for sure soon whether Dominic Benedetti fathered Effie DeMarco.”
It was a long moment before she spoke. I didn’t know how Lucia would take what I told her.
On the one hand, she’d seen enough evidence to suspect the truth.
She’d seen it herself before I told it. On the other hand, Isabella was still her sister, and I was still the enemy’s son.
I was her keeper. The man who’d signed a contract, claiming ownership of her.
“What do you want out of this, Salvatore? When all is said and done, what do you want?”
I’d been straddling the seat and now… I lay back and looked out across the pool toward the forest. It was so quiet here. So still. So peaceful.
I turned back to her. “I want to live a quiet life. I don’t want to look over my shoulder at every turn.
I don’t want to see an enemy in every set of eyes I meet, every hand I shake.
I want the people I love to be safe. I want them be happy.
” Strange. Six months ago, I would have added ‘I want my brother to be alive’ into that list, but something had shifted.
Somehow, I’d come to accept that he was gone.
Not the cruelty or the unfairness of the act, but the knowledge that he was gone. And that my life lay here.
She cleared her throat and blinked her pretty, innocent eyes, casting them somewhere in the space between us. I didn’t take my eyes off her.
Lucia was all the innocence in my life.
She was my redemption.
And I wanted her. Her presence here, us together, as tumultuous as it was, as wrong as I was for keeping her, it saved me. She saved me.
And that was why I would keep my promise and release her once I could. Once I knew she would be safe and out of harm’s way.
“What do you want, Lucia?”
She met my gaze, shrugged her shoulders, and gave me a tiny but sad smile. “Same things, I guess.”
“You’ll have them. I promise.”