33. Gabriel
THIRTY-THREE
The afterglowof Riley fades with every mile I fly on the private plane to Jacksonville. It”s almost dark, and after a day of business meetings I was finally able to get the hell out of Tampa.
Burying a friend is never easy; burying a mentor is even harder. That Donnie was like my grandfather, one who harbored deep secrets of mine, makes it all the more difficult. There are also several business entanglements to consider.
But my motto in life is don”t worry until there”s something to worry about, and right now, the matter at hand is burying my friend. I know he didn”t want a big mafia funeral, and he”d also told me that he wanted to be buried quickly after death. I”m going to Jacksonville to make sure those wishes are followed.
When we land, a car whisks me to Donnie”s house. It”s in a beautiful spot on Amelia Island, with views of the Atlantic Ocean. He bought it when he married Maria, his second wife. She”s an interior designer, or was until she married Donnie, which means the house décor is always changing depending on trends. She”s also twenty-five years younger than Donnie, and he”d always gripe about how she”d ”bring shit into the house from that website thing.”
His grumpiness always belied how much he loved his wife, though.
I haven”t been here in six months, so when Maria”s assistant lets me in, I take in the soft gray and white interior. A soothing place to die.
”Sir, Maria”s at the funeral home.” The assistant, who is an older woman, sniffles.
I squeeze her arm. ”He really adored everyone who worked for the family. Thank you for being there for him in his last days.”
The assistant nods and inhales deeply. ”She wanted me to tell you to wait in the sunroom. Mr. and Mrs. Bianchi are already here, and that”s where they are.”
Ahh. Things must be serious if Gia Amato-Bianchi is here. People in our business think her husband Alessandro is in charge of South Florida, but in reality, I know it”s Gia. She”s sharp.
”Thank you.” I hand the assistant my overnight bag—I always stay in the carriage house in the back of the property—and make my way to the sunroom. Normally I”d make a crack or a joke when I saw Alessandro and Gia, but today, I walk in, somber.
”Buongiorno,” Ale says, immediately standing and folding me into a hug. Donnie was special to him, too, but he hadn”t known the man as long as I did.
”Hey, bro.” There”s a sadness in our voices, an acknowledgement of the passing of a legend.
We break apart and there”s Gia, a little wisp of a woman with long, dark hair. She”s got tears in her eyes, probably because Donnie had been in her life since birth, too.
”Gabriel, it”s good to see you.” We hug briefly, and then all sit on rattan furniture with turquoise pillows. Like every other room in the house, this looks like a high-end furniture photoshoot, right down to the view that overlooks a lush tropical garden.
”Espresso?” Ale asks, and I nod.
He stands and goes to a bar area, pouring me a cup. Gia sighs. ”We all knew this day would come, especially since Donnie had all those health issues, but...”
”But it still sucks,” I say grimly, taking the cup from Ale. ”How”s Maria holding up? I”m surprised she didn”t want us there at the funeral home.”
Ale sits and stretches his arm on the back of the sofa. I think he”s been working out because he looks more muscular than usual, probably because he knows Gia likes that kind of thing. At least that”s what he once told me. I”m no slouch in the muscle department, but next to Ale, I”m a weakling.
Gia snuggles into his side, and my mind flashes to Riley, and how she did something similar last night. The yearning for her comes roaring back, almost to the point where I”m uncomfortable in my skin.
”Maria”s okay. She seems to be taking Donnie”s wishes seriously, probably because he”d written them in his will. She had that read almost immediately.”
My eyebrows shoot up. ”I”d have thought Ale and I would be included in that.”
”Technically, Maria”s the executor,” says Ale.
”There”s no danger of her wanting to take over Donnie”s business, is there?” Gia asks, all business.
I shake my head. ”No. Donnie made sure to generously provide for her. And I don”t think she has any aspirations to be a mafia boss.”
We all chuckle, then we lapse into talking about Donnie. Memories of him, things he said, wise words and hilarious stories.
We”re laughing through our tears when we hear footsteps. We all know they”re Maria”s by the soft click of the heels on tile. She appears in the doorway, a tall, slim woman with a shock of white-blonde short hair. She”s wearing a leopard-print jumpsuit, and if any woman can look somber, classy, and fashionable while picking out a casket in animal print, it”s Maria. Maybe it”s her Milan roots, or her intrinsic style, or her age, but we all stand out of respect when she walks in.
”My dears,” she gushes, and immediately hugs Gia. Then she turns to Ale, and finally to me. ”You are like the kids I never had, you know that, don”t you?”
We all sit, while grief hangs in the air, filtering in with the fading sunlight of the day.
”The service is tomorrow, just like Donnie wanted. Remember how he said, ”I want a quick goodbye”?” Maria says, her voice hoarse.
We all nod. Fuck, I”m saying goodbye to Donnie tomorrow. So soon, and yet an eternity. Kind of like the passing of time—the days are long, but the years are short.
Maria and Gia chat briefly about dinner, and Ale and I declare that we”ll eat whatever is put in front of us.
”Our chef made a nice tray of lasagna earlier,” Maria says, and my stomach rumbles. Another thought pops into my head—make my lasagna for Riley, she”ll love it—then I quickly banish the idea. I can”t keep thinking about that woman, not when I”ve got so much to deal with here.
Still, there”s a big part of me that wishes she was here, at my side. Supporting me like Gia is with Ale. Seeing their casual touches, their little glances, their easy compatibility, tugs at something in my heart. Maybe the years wouldn”t be so short if I had Riley along for the ride. Someone to laugh with. Someone who has my back. Someone grounding, like Gia is for Ale. I watch them as they twine their hands together.
Maybe Riley is my person, my twin flame.
”Gabriel? You okay? Gabriel?” Maria”s voice breaks through my thoughts.
”Oh. Yeah. Sorry, had kind of a long night last night. You know, with my memories.”
Gia tilts her head, as if she doesn”t believe me. Like I said, she”s cunning. Smart. ”So, what are we going to do?”
”About what?” I ask.
”Catherine,” Ale says. ”You”re the only one who knows her well. Or knew her.”
The mention of Catherine”s name slices through me. She”s Donnie”s daughter, or was, until she disowned him. It”s a long and painful story, and I”m honestly not sure how much Maria knows about the situation. Now doesn”t seem like the time or the place to hash it out.
”There”s nothing to do about Catherine. As far as I know, she”s living her best life out in California. Last I knew, anyway. I haven”t talked with her in years.”
Ale frowns. ”You don”t think she”ll want to claim any of Donnie”s businesses?”
Now all of my awareness is focused in the room, and everything seems sharp, too precise. ”No. Absolutely not.”
Maria sighs. ”Well, I hope not. Because the return of Catherine could really steer everything off course.”
”Was she mentioned in his will?” I ask.
Maria rubs her lips together. ”There was an envelope for her.”
I shrug. Donnie probably wanted to make amends at the end, something I”d encouraged him to do for years. ”That”s fine. As long as Donnie”s will was updated, that”s all that matters.”
Maria clears her throat. ”I know it was Donnie”s intention for Gabriel and Ale to take over his territory in case of his death?—”
”Yes, that”s what he told us on Saturday,” Ale interrupts.
”But...” Maria seems like she”s hesitating, for some reason.
”But?” Gia and I say at the same time.
”But he didn”t update that in his will. He hadn”t gone to the lawyer in the last few months, since his decision.”
Ale”s dark eyes go wide. Gia sits, impassively, probably thinking about how to legally make things right. I study Maria, wondering if she”s fucking with us.
”Why don”t you and Gia go get dinner ready, so Ale and I can talk?” I stare at Gia, hard. She nods once, picking up what I”m putting down—I want her to pump Maria for information, in a womanly way.
”Yes, I think everything will be better on a full stomach.” Maria stands and she and Gia glide out, arm-in-arm.
Ale and stare at each other, hard.
”What the fuck?” he says.
I shake my head.
”Tell me about this Catherine person? All I know is that she”s Donnie”s daughter. Why weren”t they close? I was told by an old boss to never bring her up to Donnie, and never did. Even you wouldn”t talk about it while he was alive. How about now?”
”Yeah, now”s probably the time to tell you everything.”
”Fuck yeah, it is.” Ale”s got a short fuse, probably leftover from his hitman days. It”s not a side of him that I”m eager to know. We”re two sides of the mafia coin, Ale and I. Personally, I”d like to think I”m the more refined side, but who the fuck knows.
”Catherine was his only daughter. She”s my age. We were close friends from the time we could walk. She was...” My voice fades. How to describe Catherine? Like sunlight itself? Ethereal and dreamy, too soft and pure for her father”s world. ”She was a good person. Really good. Too good for all this.”
”Did you two date?” Ale cuts right to the chase.
I shake my head. ”Everyone thought we would. But we were just friends. Swear to God. Truly like a sister.”
”So, what happened? Donnie was a great guy, why would she disown her own father?”
I run a hand through my hair, not wanting to get into it. In many ways, it”s not my story to tell, but since Ale and I allegedly control Donnie”s territory now—or might have to fight for it—I must explain.
”She was in college at the University of Tampa. I was at USF, across town. We hung out often, studied together, got brunch. That kind of shit. Then one day...” I blow out a breath. ”This is really fucking difficult to talk about.”
Ale”s sour expression softens. ”I know, bro. But I need to understand what”s going on here.”
”Of course. The upshot is, one of Donnie”s underbosses came to town, took her out to dinner. She didn”t think much of it, because she trusted her father”s men. But they had a couple of drinks, and at the end of the night, the guy raped her.”
Ale”s eyes squeeze shut. ”Jesus Christ. Then what happened?”
I run my tongue over my teeth. Might as well explain in cold, clinical terms. ”I found out, because I was the first one she told. She didn”t want to explain it to her dad. She got pregnant from that night, and I drove her to get an abortion about eight weeks later.”
Ale nods. ”Understandable. I”m glad you were there for her.”
”She ended up telling her father, and he didn”t understand. He was old school, as you know. He thought she should”ve kept the baby.” I look down and am almost surprised to find that my hands are clenched into fists. ”It was the only thing that I disagreed with Donnie about. We didn”t talk for a couple of years there, because of that.”
”Did he keep the piece of shit on staff?”
I shake my head. ”No, but he just let the guy go. No consequences.”
”Fuck me.” Ale rolls his eyes.
”I ended up driving to Jacksonville one night and pumped him full of lead. I never told Donnie it was me, but I”m sure he suspected.” Even now, that rage on Catherine”s behalf still simmers just below the surface.
”Good for you.” Ale”s eyes show a newfound respect for me.
”And Catherine, well, she soured on her father”s lifestyle quickly after that. She was always ambivalent about the mafia, but Donnie kept her sheltered, kind of like Amato did with Gia. Catherine came to me one night in tears, and said she was leaving. That she didn”t want to be found, didn”t want me to look for her. She”d stolen a bunch of cash from her dad, and said she”d contact me every so often to let me know she was okay. Last I heard, she was a secretary in Sacramento, and doing some art on the side. That was a few years ago, though. I occasionally check the websites of various galleries to see if she”s still exhibiting, and she is, so I don”t try to reach out. I just want to know she”s okay.”
Ale leans forward. ”So, it”s not likely that she”ll want any of Donnie”s business?”
”I doubt it. She hated it when he was alive, so I can”t imagine she”d want to be a part of it in death. But I am damned curious about that letter, and whether she”ll be at the funeral tomorrow.”