Chapter 20 Alessandro #2
It’s not easy to pretend I haven’t thought about it.
I’ve never brought it up to Giulia, and she’s never mentioned it to me, but it only made sense to guess this was somewhere in the pipeline.
I find it hard to believe Luca is okay with this.
Having me under this roof the past five weeks after my release from the hospital was one thing, but a permanent home?
“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to give up your apartment in the city,” Rocco insists. “You still have your freedom to spend time there whenever you want. I wanted to bring this to you first, in case you took the offer the wrong way. Like I’m trying to keep you locked down.”
I know it would make Giulia happy. As much as she wants her freedom, she needs to be near her family—the girls, her parents. Having a separate home on the property would at least give the illusion of a little freedom. “If this is what she wants, it’s what I want,” I decide.
Rocco’s smile is immediate, warm, and genuine. “Congratulations. Welcome to the club.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking over to where Dante and Luca sit.
“It’s always easier in the long run to let the woman make the decisions,” Dante explains. “Happy wife, happy life.”
She isn’t my wife yet, but I get his point. So long as she can come and go as she pleases, she’ll be thrilled. Which means I will be too.
“And I hope you know,” Rocco adds, clapping me on the shoulder, “I don’t expect you to be her driver anymore.
In fact…” His gaze drifts toward Dante, who clears his throat.
“There are a few areas we would like your help with when it comes to managing some of what used to be your family’s income streams.”
“Entertainment, mostly,” Dante explains. “There’s still a lot to untangle, and we could use someone with the experience who is familiar with the locations and the clientele.”
“But only if you want to,” Luca is quick to add. There’s still mistrust there, that much is obvious. “No one is trying to force you into anything.”
How generous of him. “I would like to explore that,” I decide, choosing my words carefully.
It wouldn’t be the same as running my own family, but then I no longer have one now that so much of it has been absorbed by theirs.
This means having a hand in things again.
Will it be easy to defer to Dante? No. But it’s a hell of a step up from where I am now.
“Good.” Finishing his drink, Rocco sets his glass down. “I don’t know about any of you, but I have had far too few treats today. What do you say we get dinner over with so we can move on to dessert?”
“Now you know Mama is keeping an eye on your diet,” Dante reminds him as they leave the room together.
“Can you hang back a minute?” Luca asks me, making my heart sink, though I could sense there was something else on his mind.
I turn slowly, reminding myself how Giulia loves him and how I love her. Sometimes, it’s all that keeps me from stomping the little shit. When he gestures toward the chair Dante vacated, I take a seat purely out of curiosity.
“It’s obvious you and Giulia are the real thing.” He can’t help but pull a face, like he tasted something sour. “That’s not easy for me to stomach, and you know it.”
“I had a feeling,” I admit with a smirk.
“It was one thing to learn to live with you being around here, but this is something else completely. It isn’t easy…” he admits, “… but I have to accept Giulia’s decision. And you did save her life that day. None of us will ever forget that.”
Am I supposed to thank him? Burst into tears? I wonder if there will ever come a time when his self-righteous attitude won’t set my teeth on edge.
He takes the other chair, heaving a sigh, staring down at what’s left in his glass.
“I want to know about Sicily. That’s all I ask.
And before you tell me it’s none of my damn business…
” he adds, lowering his brow, “… my sister loves you. Tell me I don’t have to worry about her suffering for what you’ve done. ”
I see where he’s coming from, not that I would ever admit it out loud.
There will always be part of me that’s contrary, especially when it comes to hypocrites who judge others for the same kind of shit they’ve pulled.
But I do understand his concern for Giulia, which is the only reason I’m willing to entertain him.
“You don’t deserve an explanation…” I pause long enough to clock his surprised reaction before explaining, “I’ll give it to you anyway, just so we’re clear on what went down. I would hate to think of it standing in the way of Giulia being happy.”
There’s something satisfying about pausing, leaving him hanging. Finally, I take pity. “I highly doubt anyone would come after me, even if they knew I was the one who pulled the trigger.”
“Please,” he scoffs as he lifts his glass to his lips.
“You find that so hard to believe?” I counter.
“A man like that? The money, the connections. You mean there’s no one who might take it personally?”
“Those connections you’re talking about? Do you think they were friends?” It’s my turn to scoff before sipping the whiskey. I’ll give it to Rocco, he knows how to pick his brands. It’s rich, smooth, burning a pleasant path down my throat.
“They weren’t friends?”
“The man didn’t have friends,” I explain as the memories flood back. “He had acquaintances. Contacts. People he could blackmail.”
Sitting up straight, I take a deep breath, looking him in the eye. “The family is waiting for us, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. Believe me if you want, don’t, it doesn’t matter. I have no reason to lie.”
He considers this for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead.”
“Federico Romano made his money through human suffering. You said the yacht wasn’t deserted when it was found. That’s true. There were thirteen underage girls below deck. Weren’t there?” I ask.
He sighs, then nods. “Thirteen exactly, my sources in Italy recently informed me.”
“They were his stock and trade. He met people, got to know them a little, figured out what they liked. Their weaknesses. It’s absolutely sickening how many of those would-be friends of his were into underage girls.
” No amount of whiskey will burn away the disgust. “He provided generously, but he kept records, videos, and photos. He thought he could get me that way. I don’t know why,” I add.
“Little girls aren’t my thing. Still, he knew…
I was not welcome back home. And I had no allies. ”
“Putting it mildly,” Luca mutters.
The prick just can’t help himself.
“So, he decided to try another tactic. He offered me a partnership. It would be like printing our own money.” I can still remember his confidence, his arrogance, how casual he was about the whole thing.
“And you said no.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “I said hell no and go fuck yourself. We were there on the yacht, so maybe he thought he could convince me if he brought me along to one of his parties, which was really a means of delivering the girls to the men who paid for them. He was trying to incriminate me,” I muse, still furious at the memory.
“I refused to go along, we argued, and the stupid fuck pulled a gun. I guess he knew he was never going to convince me, and he couldn’t trust me. His reflexes were shit,” I conclude.
“You took the gun and killed him with it.”
“Then I shoved him overboard,” I answer.
“There was only one crewmember aboard, and he knew how to pilot the speedboat docked to the yacht, so I convinced him to get us the hell out of there. He wasn’t part of it,” I point out.
“Just some poor kid Federico knew needed the money. The second we made it to shore, I called the authorities and gave them an anonymous tip. According to the reports I read, the yacht was located within an hour, and the girls were rescued.”
Luca heaves a sigh. Did he hope for more? A reason to justify his hatred? “That’s the way I heard it. His whole operation was exposed because of that rescue.”
“He would’ve gotten away with it. You understand that, right?
” I ask. “All the people he had in his pocket? He would’ve been home the same night the police brought him in for questioning, if they brought him in at all.
He had to go, and now he’s gone, and there’s not a doubt in my mind the people who were under his thumb danced with joy when they found out he was dead. ”
“So that’s why you were in a hurry to get out of there.” Arching an eyebrow, he murmurs, “Don’t pretend it wasn’t convenient for you to come home when you did.”
“It was convenient timing,” I admit. “Still, I wasn’t fleeing for my life with bullets flying past my head.
My dad died believing I was, only because I couldn’t see wasting my breath trying to explain why I would turn down such a lucrative offer.
It was more a matter of never having to face the people I met out there.
I don’t need them knowing that I know their secrets.
They could’ve gotten away with silencing me much easier than they could ever have silenced Frederico. That was the issue.”
He finishes his drink, and I’m satisfied to let him think it over in silence. I have nothing to prove.
“The whole thing is plausible enough,” he decides after a few moments, rising. “And I can’t blame you for what you did. The bastard deserved it.”
I don’t need his understanding, but having it doesn’t hurt. With time, he might be able to openly get along with me, perhaps agreeing with me on things. Not yet. So long as he doesn’t try to stand between Giulia and me, I’m fine with it.
“I don’t want to keep everybody waiting.” He checks his watch, waiting for me to stand before holding out his hand. It’s a Christmas miracle. “I never did officially thank you for what you did for her, did I?”
“I don’t need your thanks.” Though I accept his handshake.
“And for what it’s worth, I wish I could go back and undo a lot of things.
Mistakes.” That’s as close to an apology as he will ever get from me.
I do want him to know there are things I would have done differently, though.
And what I did to Emilia is one of them.
If I’ve learned anything since then, it’s how misguided I was.
How lost. I can’t help but reflect on it as we leave the study, heading for the dining room, where happy, loving voices ring out.
Growing up in this loving home, it could be hard to understand being given every imaginable weapon but no guidance on when or how to use them.
It’s like training a dog to attack viciously, then setting it loose with no limits or guidance.
Now I understand better why Dad always held such a grudge against this family.
It wasn’t only business, it was deeper than rivalry.
Dad hated Rocco for being a family man. He couldn’t relate, and anything he couldn’t understand, he tried to destroy.
He was not successful in destroying this family. They’re thriving as I follow Luca into the dining room, where Christmas trees decorate all four corners. It’s extravagant, over the top, the way the holidays should be.
“Finally.” A smiling Sophia sighs when we enter, taking her seat next to Dante.
I wonder if she’s thinking along the same lines as I am, spending her first Christmas with the family.
I wonder if she can’t help but compare the loving extravagance to the empty, hollow facade we grew up with.
It was pretty on the surface but rotten underneath.
“Everything all right?” Giulia meets me at the table, frowning a little. Even the worry lines between her brows can’t do anything to ruin her perfect beauty. In the glow from so many candles and twinkling lights, she looks like an angel.
My personal angel.
My salvation.
“Everything is better than all right.” I kiss her forehead, reminding myself to soak in every moment. I’ve spent my life holding grudges, forgetting nothing, and forgiving even less. There was nothing to look forward to but my eventual succession, nothing to cherish.
All of that changes now. It changed the minute I came to work here. That might have been Dad’s last, unwitting gift. It’s a shame I never got the chance to thank him. I doubt he would have understood.
It has to be enough now to smile down at the woman I love and to soak in the love reflected at me. By the time dinner is over, she’ll know about the house. She’ll know her family has accepted us and expects us to last.
The way I do. Always. I’m never letting go of the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The reason I wake up every morning. The reason I’m able to sit down at this lavish table and raise a glass to the future.
A future we’ll write together.
THE END.