Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Valentina
R oberto and I were walking to Leaning Tower of Pastries, discussing last night’s opening, when the city’s two fire trucks roared by. They were headed out of downtown, toward the neighborhoods.
“That’s weird,” I said, shielding my eyes from the morning sun as the trucks disappeared. “They don’t usually take both trucks for emergency calls.”
“Maybe it’s a fire.”
“Maybe.” But we rarely had fires. More than likely it was someone not feeling well or a gas leak. But I had to focus on Roberto. I needed to have a private conversation with him, which was why I’d asked him to walk with me. “Listen, I have to talk to you about something.”
“Oh?”
I paused, not certain how to start. “It’s about my father.”
“You don’t talk about him much. He left when you were young, no? ”
“It’s the opposite. He didn’t know I existed until I was thirteen.” I sighed as we crossed the street, lowering my voice. “He is in a similar line of work as Luca.”
“Mamma mia,” Roberto muttered. “I did not know this. Is he American?”
“No, Italian. My mother met him over there while studying abroad in college, but she didn’t learn what he did for a living until a few months into their relationship. She immediately returned to New York and discovered a few weeks later that she was pregnant with me.”
“She never told him?”
“No. She didn’t want him involved in my life. But he found out anyway and has come here off and on since I turned thirteen. Every two or three years he pops up to see me.”
“Why are you telling me this, signorina?”
“Because he was at the trattoria last night. In the alley.”
Roberto stopped in his tracks and stared at me intently, his dark gaze filled with concern. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t hurt me. He wanted to talk to me. To warn me away from Luca.”
Roberto slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and stared at the ground, the sunlight playing off the silver in his hair. “Does Mr. DiMarco know this?”
“God, no. And I don’t want him to know, either.” I grabbed his arm. “Please, please don’t tell him, Roberto.”
“Signorina, he should be told. Your father could be dangerous—if not to you, then to others around you.”
“Flavio won’t hurt anyone. He wanted to warn me, so I heard him out and told him to go away. But I needed to tell you because he might come back. He approached one of the line cooks on break to find me and tell me to go outside.”
Oh, Roberto didn’t like that. Not one bit. I’d never seen him angry, not once, his level-headed composure something I had relied on during the entire chaotic opening process .
But now? His jaw was clenched, every line of his face taut with fury. If I didn’t know better, I would suspect that steam was coming out of his ears. “Which line cook, signorina?”
“I’m not telling you. He doesn’t deserve to be fired?—”
“Cazzata! He should not be putting you at risk, sending you outside alone to talk to a man in an alley! Which line cook?”
“It doesn’t matter! I’m trying to warn you about my father, so he doesn’t catch you by surprise.”
He pressed his lips together and stared off into the distance. Finally, he gestured in the direction of Bev’s. “Andiamo, signorina.”
We started walking, but I wasn’t finished with this conversation. “Do not tell Luca, Roberto. Do not break my trust by going against my wishes.”
“There are bad people in this world, Valentina. You live here, in this small place, sheltered from most of the ugliness that surrounds us. And you are young, a good person. This is not a bad thing, but others will take advantage of you if they have the opportunity. Signore DiMarco, for all his faults, he will not let anyone hurt you.”
“I don’t need saving. I can handle my father.”
“All due respect, bella, but you cannot. It takes a lion to fight another lion, capisce?”
“God save me from Italian patriarchy,” I muttered as we approached the door of the pastry shop. “I’m serious. Take this to your grave. That’s an order from your boss.”
Roberto said nothing as we went in, his demeanor changing entirely as soon as he spotted Bev. “Ciao, ragazzi!” he called to the room, gaining the attention of everyone inside the café. Bev was cashing someone out at the register, but I saw the way her cheeks turned pink. Was she wearing mascara ? Oh, this was getting interesting.
“Have you taken her on a date?” I asked Roberto under my breath as we waited in line.
“Do you think I should?”
“If you like her, then yes. ”
He stroked his jaw. “I haven’t been on a date in a very long time.”
“Why not?”
“Back home I was working. There wasn’t time for a life outside of the restaurant.”
I could feel myself frown as I thought about this. Roberto and I had been working constantly, him more than me, in getting the restaurant ready to reopen. I’d at least taken some time to be with Luca. When had Roberto taken time for himself?
“I’m giving you the weekend off,” I said as we shuffled forward in line.
“This isn’t necessary, signorina. The restaurant has barely reopened. I don’t need time off.”
“Nonsense. Saturday and Sunday, do not come in. If you do, I’ll call Luca and have him send you home.”
He glanced over at me, surprised. “You would do that to me?”
“In a heartbeat. Sometimes it takes a lion to fight another lion, capisce?”
Roberto threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the small café. “Very true, very true. Allora . . . I will take time off soon, but not now. When this business with your father is concluded, okay?”
“Don’t be silly, Roberto. I’m serious about time off. Giovanni, too. I want you both to stick around, not get burned out in the first month.”
Roberto threw one arm around me and hugged me. “You have a good soul, Valentina.”
Then Bev was ready for us. As soon as we stepped up to the register, Roberto turned on the charm and started chatting with her like we had all the time in the world. It was adorable.
“Sam,” I said loudly to my friend, who was working on the espresso machine. “I meant to tell you. I can’t go to the show with you. I hope you aren’t mad.”
Sam’s eyebrows lifted. “Remind me, which show was this?”
“The one on Broadway. About the movie from the 1980s. ”
“Oh!” Bev perked up. “I’ve been dying to see it.”
I was aware, which was why I’d mentioned it. “Well, you can have my ticket. You and Sam could go together.”
Sam put a cup on the counter. Because she was smart, she played along. “But then who would watch the café? No, I think you should take a friend, Gram. Then the tickets won’t go to waste.”
I tried to sound casual as I scrolled on my phone. “Have you ever seen a Broadway show, Roberto?”
“No, I have not, signorina.”
Sam pointed to the two of them. “You guys should totally go together, then.”
There was an awkward beat of silence, and I wondered why Roberto wasn’t pouncing on this opportunity. Wasn’t this generation supposed to be better at in-person communication? These two were hopeless.
I nudged him gently. “What a good idea. Right?”
“Sì, certo. Would you like to go together, signora?”
“If you’re sure,” Bev said, also awkwardly. “That might be fun.”
The bell above the door jangled. I glanced over and saw Mrs. Picarelli hurrying in. Mrs. P. had worked at the police station, answering phones and filing paperwork, for as long as I could remember. She wore bright colors and comfortable shoes and always had the best gossip in town. She wiped her forehead and then waved. “Whew! Bev, honey. I need an iced Americano, quick.”
Sam turned to make the drink and Bev punched a few buttons on the tablet for the sale. “Gina, what on earth is going on?”
“I’m going to be up all night. Did you see the two trucks go by a few minutes ago?”
“The fire trucks? Of course. Did someone have a heart attack or break something?”
“Nope.” Mrs. P handed her credit card to Bev. “There’s a big fire out by the river. One of those mansions.”
I froze and the room seemed to shrink along with my ability to breathe. No, it couldn’t be. “I’m sorry, which house? ”
“Oh.” Mrs. P seemed to notice me there for the first time. Her expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sure everything is alright, sweetie.”
“Is it Mr. DiMarco’s house?”
She gently removed my fingers from her arm, which was weird. I hadn’t even realized that I was holding onto her. “Well, now,” she said. “I can’t say, as I didn’t take the 911 call. But I was told it was one of those Italian men we’ve been seeing around town and he reported a fire in his home.”
I swayed on my feet as the edges of my vision wavered. Luca . . . fire. Was he okay? They sent two trucks. They never sent two trucks unless it was serious. “Oh, my god.”
“Valentina.” Roberto took my hand and patted it, like he was trying to keep me awake. “Let’s stay calm. I’m sure everything is okay.”
This was no time for calm. I needed to see with my own eyes that he was alright. I couldn’t take it if something happened to him.
Did that mean . . . ? Was I in love with him? It seemed crazy, falling in love with someone in such a short amount of time, but I was physically sick at the thought of losing him.
Pulling away from Roberto, I started hurrying toward the door. “I have to get out there.”
“Val!” Someone called, but I didn’t stop. I had to get my van and drive out to Luca’s.
“Wait!” Bev was right behind me. She grabbed my shoulder and thrust a set of keys at me. “Here, take my car. It’ll be faster.”
Roberto opened the shop door and held it for me. “I’ll come with you, signorina.”
Bev’s car was behind the store, so it took no time at all to get in and set off for Luca’s. My hands were shaking as I steered, panic fueling me as I punched the gas. Roberto grabbed the doorframe with one hand and the dashboard with the other. “Slow down, signorina. He would not want you risking yourself to get to him. ”
It was like all the worry and panic had rage babies inside me and words began rushing from my mouth. “Do not tell me what to do right now! The last thing I need is to be coddled and ordered around.”
He quieted, though I could feel his anxiety leaching into the car interior. But I was a safe driver. I’ve been driving these roads since I was fifteen, even before I had a driver’s license. I knew every turn, every bump. When to slow down, when to speed up. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
Then everything went wrong.
A loud pop sounded, and the tiny sedan began skidding and lurching wildly. I screamed as my fingers locked in a death grip on the steering wheel.
“Don’t brake!” Roberto yelled. “It makes it worse.”
I couldn’t see how that was possible, but I trusted him. Taking my foot off the brake, I let the car slow down on its own. I instantly discovered he was right because the swerving stopped and it was easier to keep the car on the road. Finally, we rolled to a halt in a grassy patch off to the side.
Both of us gripped the interior of the car, panting, our adrenaline racing. “What the fuck?” I wheezed. “We almost died.”
Roberto glanced behind us. “There was something in the road. We drove over it and the tire popped.”
“Shit!” I slammed my palm into the steering wheel. “Bev is going to kill me. Let’s get out and see how bad it is.”
As soon as we got out of the car, I realized our mistake.
This hadn’t been an accident. Whoever placed something in the road had put it there purposely.
And that person was my father.
Flavio materialized out of the woods, dressed in head to toe camouflage, a gun pointed at Roberto .
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I said as my father eased closer. “Flavio, have you lost your mind? I could’ve been killed .”
“It was only the front tires. I knew you would be okay.” He gestured to me with his free hand. “Come with me, Valentina.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not. I need to get up to . . . ” Pieces of information connected in my brain, the events of the morning coming together like ends of a magnet. “Oh, my god. The fire. Please tell me you aren’t responsible. Did you do all this? Why?”
“I will explain everything later, figlia mia, when you and I are safely away. Now, let’s go.”
“You’re crazy. And dangerous.” I put up my palms and tried to get in front of Roberto. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Then I will kill your friend here. Is that what you want? For people to die, Valentina?”
“Don’t do it, Val,” Roberto said softly. “Don’t believe him. Stay here.”
“I-Is Luca okay?” My mouth was dry, my tongue thick with worry, but I had to know. “Did you kill him?”
“He is fine. No one was hurt. There, are you happy? The mob boss lives—for now. But I promise I will kill him and your restaurant man here if you do not follow me.” Flavio aimed the gun at Roberto’s leg and there was a puff of air.
Roberto went down, collapsing in a howl of pain.
Holy shit! My crazy father shot Roberto.
I knelt down, unsure what to do. I’d seen injuries in the kitchen, but never gunshots. “Are you okay? Oh, my god. Roberto, talk to me.”
“Stings,” he said from behind clenched teeth.
“Fuck.” I straightened and discovered Flavio now standing much closer. “You psycho! I can’t believe you just shot him!”
“It’s nothing. A tiny scrape. But the next bullet is in his head unless you come with me. Andiamo, figlia.”
“No, Val,” Roberto said from behind clenched teeth, his hand gripping his leg to stem the bleeding. “Let him kill me. Don’t go with him. ”
How could I allow that? Luca, his brothers, Roberto . . . How many people was Flavio willing to hurt to get to me? I cared about these people— loved one of these people. I couldn’t let them come to more harm because of my stubbornness, not when I had the power to save them.
I inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. “Okay, I’ll come. Just let me call to get Roberto help.”
“No. In fact, give me both of your phones.” He waved the gun. “Toss them over on the ground. Hurry.”
I glanced down at Roberto, who was watching me with a defiant expression. “It’s okay,” I told him. “He won’t hurt me. Give him your phone.”
“No, signorina—” Then he gasped and squeezed his eyes shut in pain.
I took my phone out of my pocket. “Yes, Roberto. Throw over your phone. It’s okay. Someone will come along soon.” The firemen, at the very least.
I threw my phone at my father. Reluctantly, Roberto did the same. “Stall him,” Roberto said under his breath.
“Tell Luca where I went,” I whispered back.
“Let’s go,” my father ordered as he slipped the two phones into his pants. “This way.” He gestured toward the woods. I lifted my chin and forced my feet to move. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave Roberto, but I knew staying was certain death for my friend. I could only hope that someone would find him soon. Then paramedics could treat his wound and end his suffering.
“If Benetti comes for her, I will kill him,” Flavio warned over his shoulder as we reached the tree line. “Tell him to stay the fuck away from my daughter.”
Roberto said nothing and the forest quickly swallowed us up. It was quiet and shady, the canopy of trees concealing us from the world. “Go right,” my father said behind me. “I have an ATV waiting not far from here.”
My feet crunched on the leaves and sticks as I walked forward. The trees grew denser, the air cool and musty, and a true bolt of fear went through me. Even if I managed to run away from him, I could get lost here. I wasn’t the outdoorsy type. I could handle the restaurant like a champ, but my sense of direction was terrible and I had zero survival skills.
Thank goodness he wouldn’t hurt me. At least, I didn’t think he would.
I stepped over a rotted log. “What are you hoping to accomplish, Flavio?”
“You need someone to save you from yourself.”
“Oh, and you’re the best person to do that?” I made a scoffing noise in my throat. “Please. No wonder my mother wanted to keep you away from me.”
“You think you know things, figlia, but you don’t.”
“Yeah, well, I want your promise that if I go with you that you won’t hurt anyone, ever.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“So, what? You are kidnapping me and never letting me go?”
“I’m not kidnapping you. I’m taking you until he leaves for Catanzaro.”
“Are you listening to yourself? You can’t keep me that long. I have a restaurant to run.”
An ATV was waiting behind some long branches. Flavio moved the branches off and told me to get on. After I did, he threw his leg over and settled in front of me, then handed me a helmet. I put it on as the engine roared to life. Before I could brace myself, he revved and the wheels jolted forward. I cursed, grabbed his shoulders, and held on.
We drove for what felt like forever, through the brush and trees, swerving and dodging as we bounced along. I was worried about Roberto. I hoped he didn’t suffer any permanent damage after that gunshot.
And Luca. I needed to see him, make sure he was okay. Flavio said Luca wasn’t hurt, but I didn’t trust my father. He might be lying to me.
I had to come up with a plan. As soon as Flavio had his say and let down his guard, I would disappear. Woods or not, I would get away and find someone to help me. No way was I staying with him until Luca went back to Italy, which could be weeks. Months. Who knew?
Finally, Flavio drove around the edge of an inlet and a small house came into view. Gray with only one story, the tiny building had a slip with a motor boat docked. There was nothing else around, no other boats or houses. No people.
Was this where he lived?
My question was soon answered when Flavio drove up behind the house and turned off the ATV. I didn’t waste any time jumping to the ground and putting distance between us. Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked behind me and tried to memorize how we got here for when I made my escape.
“Don’t bother,” Flavio said. “I drove us around in circles.”
“My sense of direction is amazing,” I lied.
“Cazzata,” he said and pocketed the ATV key. “You’re like your mother. Can’t navigate your way out of a box.”
Unfortunately, it was true. But I wasn’t sure how Flavio knew this. “Let’s get this over with so I can return to town. Say whatever it is you need to say.”
“Get inside, figlia.”
I trudged up the back wooden stairs to the door and tried the knob. It was unlocked. I went in and expected to find the place empty.
John Natale was sitting at the kitchen table, eating.
I stopped, my hand still on the door as I stared at my former dishwasher. “John. What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Val.”
My father nudged me into the house and I stumbled forward, confused. “I don’t understand.” I shot my father a look. “Why is he here? How do you two even know each other?”
“Prison,” my father said as he closed the door and locked it.
I blinked several times and looked at John. “So you were working for me and reporting back to my father?”
“I’m sorry, Val.” John had the grace to appear sheepish. He stood and took his now empty plate to the sink. “I’ll give you two some time alone.”
What the fuck? My father had sent John to the trattoria as a spy? I rounded on Flavio in disbelief. “Why? Please, help me understand.”
“Sit down, per favore. Sit down and I will explain everything.”