Chapter 71
Emilia
Iwas terrified.
Giorgio sped away from his parents’ house, his eyes fixed on the road, his skin clammy with sweat. He looked sick and feverish.
Gravel popped beneath our tires.
When he turned onto the main road, he gunned the engine.
At 90 miles per hour, I couldn’t take any more.
“Giorgio,” I said.
He kept accelerating.
95…
100…
“Giorgio, slow down!” I cried out.
105…
“GIORGIO!” I screamed.
That seemed to bring him back to his senses.
He still stared straight ahead, but he slowed down to the speed limit.
“Giorgio, talk to me,” I pleaded.
He drove for another half mile, staring straight ahead…
And then he pulled off onto the shoulder and parked the car.
He didn’t look at me as he spoke.
“Lorenzo was my best friend growing up. We used to play soldier out in the woods when we were kids. When we were teenagers, we would sneak out at night with girls… steal bottles of wine from our parents… and stay out drinking till three in the morning.
“But there was nothing to do around here after high school. You could work at a vineyard, like my father and brothers do… which is what I did. I worked there till I was 23.
“Or you could work on a farm… or at a hotel… or a restaurant or tourist shop. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could find work in town at a printer’s or a bank.
“The vineyard was all I thought I’d ever get out of life. My father’s worked there for thirty years… and that’s all my brothers are ever going to do. That’s all I was going to do.
“But Lorenzo had dreams. He wanted to do something big. He didn’t know what, but he knew he didn’t want to be stuck out here.
“He moved to Florence three years ago. He didn’t have much luck… until he heard about a job working security for a family out in Tuscany. Two weeks after he started, he called me up and told me about it.
“I knew what they did. I knew who they were. But I didn’t want to die out here, living the same fucking life my father did, and my grandfather, and my great-grandfather. I wanted something different. So I started working for the Rosolinis.
“It was hard. It was really, really hard. One of my bosses – Lars – he pushed us. Hard. Trained us to be soldiers. There were some days I didn’t think I could hack it – but I did. I got through it. And I became one of the family’s best men. It was difficult – but that was why I liked it.
“Then… things got complicated.
“People started coming after us. We didn’t know it while it was happening, but Adriano’s uncle and cousin were trying to kill him and his brothers. To us, it just looked like different strangers trying to kill us out of nowhere.
“But we survived. We made it through.
“And then… we went to San Michele. It’s a cemetery on an island outside of Venice.
Lucia got kidnapped. We didn’t know who she was at the time, but Massimo – one of my bosses – was already in love with her.
A bunch of us went to the island and fought to set her free.
We fought Russian mercenaries… dozens of them. Most of my friends didn’t make it.”
Giorgio turned to me. “Lorenzo was one of them.
“I watched him die. He got shot by a sniper on a bell tower. I watched him bleed out on the ground, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing.
“But we were there to do a good thing,” he said fervently. “We were there to rescue a woman who’d been kidnapped. It was a good thing we did. It was a good thing.
“I tried to tell Lorenzo’s mother that at his funeral – that he died trying to save a woman from her kidnappers – but she wouldn’t hear it. She just slapped me in the face and then broke down crying.
“My father won’t believe it, either. No matter what we do… no matter how much good we try to do… all my father sees is a bunch of murderers and criminals. But it’s not like that. They’re not like that. I’M not like that.
“Emilia,” he whispered, “I’ve lost my father because of what I do. He won’t believe a single good thing about me or the people I work for.
“I’m afraid I’ll lose the rest of my family, too. I’m worried they’ll eventually start listening to him and turn against me.
“I could deal with that… but it would kill me to lose you.
“Please… you’ve got to believe me. I’m not what my father thinks I am. I’m trying, Emilia. I’m trying to be good. I’m really fucking trying.”
“I know,” I whispered. I leaned over and hugged him. “I know.”
And I did know.
I knew Giorgio was trying to be good.
But that was all I could say… I know…
Because, underneath it all, I was terrified his father was right.
And that if Giorgio continued working for his bosses…
He would wind up just like his father had said:
Dead like a dog in the gutter.
And that would kill ME.