Chapter 18
What the fuck does Salvatore mean by wanting to marry Eva to one of Nina’s depraved cousins?
That family is dysfunctional. It is why Salvatore fits in it so fucking well.
He is a dysfunctional dimwit. A disgrace as a son and a brother. While Eva may seem to be carrying it well, I have caught her a few times staring at the door of his quarter with longing eyes.
I have heard her make mistakes, calling people Salvatore. She loves him and cares about him, but the idiot is seeking any opportunity to hurt her in every way possible.
Fuck it.
Now he has my son as bait. All thanks to Eva, but I am passed caring about the fact that she told the secret of my son to Gloria. I am still trying to figure out who could have possibly been the culprit because as much as I don’t care about Gloria, I know she is not the one.
I already did a few checks on her when she started hanging around Eva.
I dart my eyes between Emanuele and Eva. They are strikingly alike, yet so different in many obvious ways.
I light up the cigar Emanuele offered me. He is not one to share his lighter or his cigars, and it’s the second time he has done so with me. The first was the night I killed my father. I was a wreck. I was scared but also satisfied. He told me the cigar would help, but what really helped was his presence.
He never judged me. He looked like he was capable of the same evil, and I didn’t need to ask to confirm it. I could see it in his eyes. He had been made capo a few weeks before that day.
I shake my head at both of them because, while they are not asking any questions verbally, I can hear questions in the air.
I can’t let that happen.
I love my son, but it is right here and now that the thought of ever losing Eva begins to sink in a way that terrifies me. I want to give her freedom, and Salvatore is clipping her wings. Before Mindy called, I was about to confess that I wanted her to be my wife.
But the call was a smack in the face. It once again showed me that this life, my life, is not one Eva is prepared for. I knew this before now, but this situation is just reconfirming it. Regardless, I cannot give her to anyone else.
Whatever Salvatore wants, he is not getting it. There has got to be an alternative. It’s high time someone put a stop to him once and for all. It would have been a walk in the park if he wasn’t Emanuele’s son.
I hate this.
I drop onto the sofa, agonizing over the situation.
I twiddle with the cigar in my hand, focusing on the glow and the smoke flurrying from it. I am not much of a smoker, nor do I fancy alcohol. I like to stay sober, awake. The few times I got high or drunk in high school, I didn’t like what I saw when I became sober.
Even though the situation still bites like a curse, only one of the many outcomes feels like a blessing.
I killed my father, then I got a woman pregnant. Now, I am faced with fears of failing as a father. Like my father.
The door of the study creaks open, and Vittoria steps in in black pajamas with gold motifs. It is unlike her to be in pajamas, even as early as seven in the morning. Her hair is a little messy and her face is slightly bloated from the pregnancy.
“Hey, Daddy,” she scampers to Emanuele and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing kisses on his chest.
I glower at Emanuele for no reason other than the fact that it feels good to do it.
“Baby girl,” Emanuele eyes me before dipping his head to kiss her messy hair. “You are awake,” he strokes her back, and she nods.
“Eva,” Vittoria goes to Eva and hugs her. “How are you?” She draws back and cups Eva’s face. “You were crying?” She spins to glare at the both of us. “Who did this?”
“Salvatore has Fabio’s son,” Eva hiccups, breathing in her tears.
“Fabio has a son?” Vittoria directs the question to Emanuele. “You have a son?” She directs the question to me. “He has a son?” she spins to Eva, and she nods.
“And Salvatore has him,” Eva highlights again.
“Salvatore?” Vittoria grits, one hand balls into a fist. “What is it with that kid?” She sounds like she is older than Salvatore, when in truth, Salvatore is older than she is.
“He wants me to marry Nina’s cousin, that’s the only way he will let Jake go,” Eva sniffs, dropping her eyes to the floor. “It’s my fault, I told Gloria about it in class and someone must have overheard us,” Eva sobs. “He is only six.”
“Only six?” Vittoria shrieks and flips to face me. “Only six?” She blinks at Emanuele and he shrugs. “He is a little boy,” her voice creaks.
“Come,” Emanuele flicks his fingers at her, and she goes to him. “He will be fine,” he wraps her in an embrace. “Breathe, baby girl.”
She”s feeling a little off right now. I remember Mindy calling me in tears when she was pregnant, telling me about a missing rabbit story she had seen on the local news. That day, I nearly lost my mind and debated blocking her number. However, I sat listening to her whine for a fucking hour about how the world ought to be a better place and protect rabbits.
“I will do it,” Eva mumbles. She keeps her eyes down, “I will marry Nina’s cousin, I will go to Salvatore right now and end this,” she starts to move to the door.
It is not her father who stops her, and I think it is because he is waiting to see my reaction.
“Eva, get back here,” I thunder, and she halts, her hand on the doorknob. “Now,” I clip, and she retrieves her hand, coming to sit beside me like some chicken drenched by the rain.
Emanuele scoffs, “I won’t hear any of that nonsense from you again, got it?”
Eva nods sharply, twiddling with her fingers. I reach out and take her hands in mine, stroking with my thumbs. She deflates, taking it as an invitation to crawl to me. She buries her face in my chest and sobs uncontrollably.
“I am sorry,” she sniffs. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I slip my fingers into her hair and stroke her scalp gently. “Easy now.”
“Someone has to put Salvatore in his place,” Vittoria stares at Eva with pitiful eyes. “Poor child,” she shakes her head. I don’t know what it is with her and feeling like she is in her late fifties instead of her late twenties today.
“We will handle it,” Emanuele assures her, and I take it that it is partly to tell her to stay away from it.
Knowing Vittoria, she might want to step up and handle it herself, which won’t be good. I can’t trust her not to pump bullets into Salvatore and pretend it was a casualty. Maybe she should handle it. But Emanuele doesn’t deserve that.
He still loves his son, even though he will never openly admit to it again. It is the only reason Salvatore is alive and causing more havoc. Feeling invincible. He knows that when it comes down to it, his father won’t be able to pull the trigger.
“Come, Eva, let’s get out of this place,” Vittoria snaps her fingers, and Eva reluctantly peels away from me, dabbing her cheeks.
Now that we’re alone, Emanuele takes his cigar to his mouth and puffs, his brows stretching to his hairline as he glares at me. I know this look. It’s time for me to explain myself.
I puff, taking my time to drag it in, letting it dance on my tongue before blowing the smoke out.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your son?” He asks, sitting at the edge of his desk. “Why keep such a secret from me?”
I pinch the brink of my nose with my thumb and index finger, unsure what to do with myself at this point. I didn’t want anyone to find out about this aspect of my life. I knew it was going to be difficult to keep it hidden since the night he announced I would be marrying Eva.
I had thought of all the ways he would find out and not one had Salvatore in the picture.
“I am sorry,” I gulp.
“Reasons, Fabio, not bloody apologies,” his voice spikes. “We have been through hell together, and you would hide this from me?”
“I was ashamed,” I blurt. “I was ashamed of my weakness.”
I focus on twiddling the cigar between my fingers, avoiding meeting his eyes or tilting my head in his direction. I was weak that night. I should have never kissed Eva, and when I did, I should have been able to collect myself and go home instead of looking for a quick ticket to hell.
“Welcome on board. At least now you know why I can’t kill Salvatore,” he puffs.
I nod. We don’t have the same understanding of the word weakness, but I nod, not capable of explaining my ordeal any further to him.
“Does this affect…” I chew my words first, processing them, “Does this affect the marriage between Eva and me?”
“What do I care about your son?” He clips in annoyance, “I married Vittoria as a father of two grownups. If Eva is fine with it, then I don’t have a say.”
The knots in my stomach untangle.
What was I so fucking afraid of again?
“Thank you,” I stand. I owe him a lot, and I will make it up to him for the rest of my life.
“Don’t thank me yet. My son has your son, and I can’t vouch for his safety,” He takes his cigar to his mouth and puffs. “We need to find a way to get Jake back and we are doing it right this bloody minute.”
I nod, “I might have a plan.”
“No,” he stands straight, dipping one hand in the pocket of his pants.
“Relax, I won’t kill your son,” I scoff, but the look he gives me tells me he sees past my bullshit.
Because when it comes to it, I am not so fucking sure I won’t.