Chapter Two
Luca
I sit in the large study, the lights left dim, and the smell of scotch wafting from my glass as I lift it to my mouth to take a sip. The sight of the familiar room brings back nothing but memories, both good and bad, and a part of me is surprised to admit to myself that I’ve missed this place.
Matteo and I have been sitting here in silence since we took our seats, Matteo with his cigar between his lips and me with my drink, as I look out at the pool. Though this was an unexpected visit, one I honestly never thought would happen, there’s been this sense of peace floating over the two of us as we sit together for the first time in years.
“I’m sorry about Rosa,” I finally say, setting down my drink on the table between us.
“She was happy when she left us, there is nothing to be sorry for,” Matteo says, his thick Italian accent filling the room.
“Did she suffer?” I continue, wondering how bad it was for the woman who shone so much light into this family.
I watch as Matteo drops his cigar, his expression shifting and changing to something I can’t quite decipher.
“She was in pain, but you know Rosa,” Matteo smiles softly, a look on his face that tells me he’s going down memory lane.
Ana’s always reminded me of Rosa. They were both so graceful and pure, ready to love the world no matter how bitter it was. I wasn’t super close to Rosa before I left this life behind, but I knew my brother loved her with his entire being, and the times I met Rosa, her smile would illuminate the darkness in this house, just like Ana did wherever she went.
“She missed you,” Matteo comments, his voice soft and almost sad.
“I barely knew her,” I chuckle, picking up my scotch again and taking a drink, welcoming the smooth burn on the way down.
“But she knew you. I told her about you,” Matteo says, lighting his cigar and relaxing into his chair.
“Thank you for keeping me alive here.”
“You were never dead Luca, you just left,” Matteo reminds me with that look in his eyes that told me he’d been hurt by me leaving but still cared about me.
I’ve never regretted leaving, hell, I’d do it all over again if I had the chance. The family business wasn’t what I ever felt born to do. That was Matteo’s birthright. Just because he was the second son, doesn’t mean he should be robbed of that position. If me leaving meant he got to take it, then I would do what I did over and over so he’d have the chance.
“How are they doing?” I ask as I look at the picture on the wall.
The large picture frame that I don’t recall seeing before is hung neatly, capturing the likeness of the two individuals. They were dressed in all black attire that matched their raven-black hair. The woman’s smile was radiant, just like her mothers, making her eyes sparkle. Beside her stood the man with opposite features, ones I recognized easily. His gaze was cold and his lips in a tight fine line. Their relationship is a given by the uncanny similarity of their piercing blue eyes. The familiar trait held a bond between them, one that the way they held each other couldn’t portray enough.
“Same as they’ll ever be. It’s time, Luca, I’m done,” Matteo says, not needing to explain what he meant. The second I saw him after arriving, I could tell the years were catching up with him and that he was done. I may have been gone for years, but I know my brother.
“You want him to get married?”
“Word spreads fast around here,” he laughs.
“He’s being stubborn, brother. I threatened to give Marco everything, but he still won’t bulge. I don’t know what to do.” Matteo shakes his head, clearly stressed by the thought of it. I don’t blame him though, handing things over to our cousin Marco was never what we wanted and he was betting on using that threat to get his son to budge.
Seeing my window, I take it. “Give him a wife.”
Matteo’s gaze lands on me, a look of disbelief on his face. I’m sure I’m the last person he thought would suggest this. By the way his eyes begin to narrow on me just the slightest bit, I can tell he’s onto me.
“Rosa wouldn’t want me to force a bride on him. She’s the reason I’ve been trying to get him to find someone he wants to be with. I’ve been giving him time to find someone but he’s so damn against it. I don’t want to continue in Father’s footsteps by making it a rule that he must be married to take over, but Rosa wanted him to find love first,” he says with a sigh.
“I understand brother, but . . .”
“Why did you come, Luca?” The words leave Matteo quickly, cutting me off.
I’d planned to stall for a bit and try to enjoy his company before we got into this. I’ve missed my brother, and I’d hoped we’d be able to sit here with our drinks and chat. Though I’m back now for this, I don’t plan on staying and have no idea when I’ll be back again. Matteo could always read me so easily, and I know he won’t let this go until he gets the answer to his question.
Taking another sip of my drink to stall, I keep my eyes on the view outside. “Protection.”
“You’re a Ballera, you have all the protection you need.”
“Not for me, for my daughter.”
“You have a daughter? Brother you . . .”
“She’s not mine, but she is family, Matteo, and Donato is after her.”
“What are you asking brother?” Matteo asks as he sits up straighter, his brown eyes locked on me.
“A marriage. I know Rosa wanted him to be married before he took over, but how long will you fight with him about this? How long are you willing to keep doing this? You need rest brother, you know it’s time,” I say, looking at him with eyes that know him.
We hold eye contact until he breaks it and looks straight ahead. “A marriage for protection?”
“A marriage . . .”
“Brother, I . . .”
“Do it for me. He won’t say no when you tell him you’ve found him a wife.”
“What’s her name?” Matteo asks, reclining back in his chair and picking up his cigar, his sign that it was a done deal.
“Vida. She’s a good girl,” I tell him, watching him out of the corner of my eye. This needs to work. She needs to be safe.
“Would Rosa like her? Carmela?” he asks. I can hear the hope in his voice that this won’t be as bad as he fears.
“Rosa and Carmela would love her. You would, too. I’ll set a meeting.”
“No. A dinner at their home. It’s what Rosa would do if she was here,” Matteo chuckles.
“In her house? All of us? Brother, that’s too much exposure,” I protest, picturing how much of a target we’d be with all of them there, too.
“Being a cop has made you weak and scared, Luca. We are Balleras, we fear nothing. If my son is getting married, we’ll do it how Rosa would have. That’s final,” Matteo says, his tone leaving no room for argument. This was why he was born for this, he feared no one, not even his older brother.
“A dinner then. I’ll let you know when to come. But brother . . . it’s Donato she needs protecting from,” I remind him.
“Does her family know why you’re here?”
“Not yet, but I’ll tell them.”
Matteo blows out smoke from his cigar before saying, “Leave it to me, I will do it. They shouldn’t hate you after all you’ve done for them.”
“I have missed you, brother,” I admit, smiling when he does and nods in the direction of the drink cart.
“Then pour yourself more to drink. Let’s enjoy this life without Father,” he says, and the sound of our laughter fills the room.
Matteo
“Forgive me . . . I couldn’t say no to Luca, I couldn’t,” I whisper as I hold my sweet Rosa’s picture, the one I keep next to my bed to keep her close to me. “I said I would never walk in Father’s shadows but here I am, about to force our son to marry a stranger. I must have failed you. I didn’t choose Luca over you . . . I owed a debt and I paid it, please don’t resent me.”
I wish I could hear her soft, loving voice again, even if she’d scold me for doing this.
“But I promise you would love her. If Luca does, she could be a good wife for our son. And maybe they will have something better than we did. I trust Luca, he would never do anything that would bring us harm, I know you believe that, too,” I continue, stroking my thumb over her smiling face. “Luca is home . . . after all these years, he came home. Oh, how happy you would have been to meet him again.”
“I will do better this time. Father isn’t here, there will be no need for him to run away again. I will keep him home, even if he goes back to his life, I will make sure he knows there is a home here for him, too,” I promise, looking down at the picture next to hers, the last one we’d taken as a family before she left us.
“I see you in them and I miss you everyday, but soon we will be together again. I will be in your arms again soon, my love,” I promise, kissing her picture before putting it back down. “I will not let you down . . . I swear.”
“I love you, to the world beyond and the life after, I will always love you,” I whisper, our vows slipping out like a poem buried in my soul.
Could anyone have anything better than what Rosa and I had? Was it possible to find a love that won’t just kill for you, but also die for you? If that were even possible, I send up a silent prayer that our children will have that, especially our son who took my father’s darkness.