Chapter 19
DOMINIC
I’d lost my mind, surely.
I glanced at Gia sitting beside me, her face closed off, both of us silent. A thick air of anxiety hung between and all around us, both of us tense for what would come. How would I be treated? How much did people know? And why in hell did I give a fuck? Why in hell was I going anyway?
The knowledge of Franco’s death settled like a heavy black cloak around me, inside me, swallowing me up. I didn’t know what I should feel. Hatred? Anger? But all I felt was regret. And a sense of loss like I’d never experienced before.
It was over.
He was dead.
There was no going back. No making amends. No saying sorry.
Salvatore told me he’d asked about me. Had he truly regretted what had happened? Had he regretted telling me like that? All those years, I’d thought he’d loved me. I had. It was maybe stupid, but I had believed it. Losing that love, I realized now, it had broken a part of me.
And through that break seeped a darkness that had oozed into my soul.
Made me into a man I no longer recognized.
But then I found Gia, bruised and afraid, huddled in a corner of that decrepit room.
The moment she set her burning gaze on me, she saw me.
She saw right through me. All the broken pieces of me.
And now that she knew, now that I’d told her my story—the first time I’d ever done that—it was like those pieces slowly fused together again, even if it was inside out and backward, scar tissue barely covering too many razor-sharp edges.
I was no longer the man I had once been.
But I was stronger. I may be harder. I may be darker, but I was stronger. And I would never be fooled again. I would never be weak again.
Nerves twisted my gut as we neared the house in the Adirondacks. His favorite place. The last time I was here had been to celebrate his birthday.
I turned to Gia. “You do as I say. Every word, understand? You do not leave my side, and you do exactly as I say.”
“You told me that already, and I promised I would.”
Gia’s gaze bounced from me to the road and back. And even as she acted tough as nails, the shadows beneath her eyes and the fact she’d refused to eat told of her anxiety.
“What about the auction?” she asked.
I grinned. That piece did truly give me joy. “I took care of it.”
She tilted her head to the side, waiting for more.
“Watch them all at the funeral tomorrow. We’ll see just who is involved.”
I wouldn’t say more yet.
We drove the last fifteen minutes in silence.
As we neared the gates of the house, I saw several cars already lined the driveway.
I parked behind the last one, recognizing several of the vehicles.
I switched off the engine and took a deep breath.
Gia’s hand touched mine, startling me. She didn’t say anything but looked at me with those eyes that seemed to know much more than spoken words.
I broke the gaze. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
We stepped out of the SUV at the same time.
I tucked a pistol into the back of my jeans, making sure my jacket shielded it.
Gia had hers in her purse, although we’d run out of time for those lessons.
Leaving our bags in the trunk, I went to Gia’s side and took her hand.
It felt cold and a little clammy. Strange enough, it made me stand taller, giving me strength enough for both of us.
“Whatever you do, do not show fear,” I whispered.
She didn’t deny she felt it this time. She simply nodded as we approached the foreboding double doors.
Without hesitation, I pushed on the doorbell. Last time I was here, I’d walked in, using my own key to enter. That key sat in my pocket today.
To my surprise, Salvatore opened the door, as if he’d been there waiting for me to arrive. We both stopped. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, and he gave me a small smile and a nod, holding out his hand.
I took it, meeting my brother’s firm grip with my own as he pulled me in for a hug, patting my back.
“Good. You did good to come.”
He released me. I looked at him, saw how much more gray was now mixed with the black of his close-cut beard, saw more lines around his eyes and mouth, not lines of worry or of a hard life. No. Lines of happiness. His skin glowed bronze, a byproduct of living happily under the sun.
Lucia turned the corner, looking tanned but otherwise just the same apart from her rounded belly protruding from the close-fitting dress she wore.
She came to stand beside her husband, and I saw how his face changed, how his smile grew, how his gaze had brightened as he’d followed her path across the room.
How I felt, though—it was different this time.
It wasn’t with envy that I looked at them. Jealousy had given way to something else. I didn’t know when that had happened, but I was conscious of how my hand wrapped tighter around Gia’s waist as I pulled her closer to me.
Salvatore’s gaze moved to Gia while Lucia’s found mine.
“Lucia,” I said, giving her a short nod. “You look beautiful. Pregnancy becomes you.”
“Dominic,” she said, squeezing a little closer to Salvatore. “I’m glad you came. For Salvatore.” There was no missing the meaning of her words. She hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d done. For any of it. Not for abandoning her sister, her niece. Not for almost killing the man she loved.
I understood that and accepted my responsibility. It would take more than me showing up to win Lucia’s favor.
“You must be Gianna,” Salvatore said, studying Gia.
“Just Gia,” she replied, taking his hand.
Lucia’s gaze moved to Gia’s clothes, a pair of jeans and a sweater. Gia stepped out of my grasp and did a little twirl.
“They’re yours,” she said to Lucia. “I was in a bit of a bind. I hope you don’t mind.”
“They look great on you,” Lucia said. “I’m Lucia. It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your bro—”
Gia shook her head. Lucia stopped.
Salvatore’s gaze returned to mine. “You came from Saddle River?”
I nodded.
“Was it you who bought the house outright?”
Again, I nodded, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a very long time.
He studied me but didn’t say anything more about it. “Come in. I think Roman has you staying in your old room. He didn’t mention a guest.”
“Gia stays with me.” Even I heard the possessive tone of that.
Lucia and Salvatore exchanged a quick glance but stepped back to let us in.
“How are Effie and your sister?” I asked Lucia, feeling like an asshole actually. A real asshole. A father who is a no-show.
“Great. Luke has been great for both of them.” Her delivery put me in my place.
“Lucia,” Salvatore cut in brusquely, giving her hand a squeeze.
Lucia cleared her throat. “When Effie heard we’d see you, she wanted to make sure to send you some of your favorite cookies. I have a tin for you upstairs. Not that you deserve it.”
“Enough,” Salvatore said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck in warning.
She turned her stubborn face to his, and their gazes locked. Salvatore must have squeezed a little because Lucia narrowed her eyes but bit her lip. Probably to stop herself from talking.
“She’s right,” I said. “I’m a shit of a dad. Lucia’s just speaking the truth.”
“We’re not here to fight. We’re here for a funeral. Our father’s funeral.”
“Not—”
“He raised you as his own. And he regretted that night. Put your anger aside, at least for now. The man is dead, for Christ’s sake.”
Salvatore and I locked gazes. Our hands fisted.
Gia cleared her throat as Roman walked out of the study. What Roman felt at seeing me, I didn’t know. He’d long ago learned to conceal any emotion from his face. But when his gaze fell on Gia, I saw the infinitesimal change in his eyes, that spark of surprise.
No. Of shock.
“Dominic,” he said, extending his hand to mine, drawing me in for a brief, cool hug. “I know Franco would be glad you came.”
“You’re looking well, Uncle.” He did. His suit was more expensive than any he used to wear when he wasn’t head of the family, and I didn’t miss the Benedetti family ring on his finger. As if he had any right.
“I didn’t realize you’d be bringing a guest.”
He turned to Gia. He studied her closely but revealed nothing of how he felt.
“Gianna Castellano,” Roman said, addressing her.
His mouth moved into a smile. It almost touched his eyes.
“I think you were this big when I last saw you.” He gestured to his waist. “Franco would be pleased to have you here.”
Gia shook his hand, betraying nothing even as I felt her tense beside me.
“You know my uncle Roman?” I asked her.
Her gaze flickered to mine, perhaps remembering what I’d said I’d do to him the night I made her promise to pull the trigger on me when it was over. When she had her revenge.
She cleared her throat and returned her gaze to his. “I vaguely recall the name, but I’m sorry, I—”
“I’d be surprised if you remembered me. You were a child,” Roman filled in.
“Did you know my father?” she asked.
“I did.”
I could see from Roman’s face he did not expect or welcome Gia’s questions.
“And my brother, Mateo?” she pressed.
I released Gia’s waist to take her hand, squeezing a warning.
“Yes. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“And I’m sorry for yours,” she managed.
Roman nodded. “I’ll have a room made up—”
“She’ll stay with me. Have the maid send up extra towels,” I ordered.
For the briefest moment, Roman’s eyes went flat and dark, and for the first time, I thought I glimpsed the real Roman. But I’d always spoken this way to him. I’d always felt superior and never hid the fact.
“Of course,” he said. A couple walked up the front steps just then, and he excused himself. The four of us stepped to the side, each of us watching every move anyone made.
“Did you bring your brood?” I asked Salvatore, not hearing any children running around.
“No. They’re staying with Isabella and Luke.”
“I don’t like this,” Lucia whispered loud enough in Salvatore’s direction for Gia and I to hear.