Chapter 34
Sydney
I fall back against my seat, my head a whirlwind of confusion. Man, I’m wishing I hadn’t had that second wongarita right about now.
How did I not know about this story? “Are you sure about this, Carol Ann? I’ve only met him a few times, but Matteo always called him Luca, not Luke.”
Pepper picks up her phone and furiously starts to scroll. Her eyes light up, one corner of her mouth curling in an almost salacious grin. “Here. I still have the video saved.”
She turns her phone to face me, just as Carol Ann hops up from her seat to slide in next to me. A reporter comes on to the screen. It looks like the evening news on one of the larger network channels.
“We interrupt this national news broadcast to bring you breaking news out of Hanover, Virginia. Luke Barrett, the owner of Custom Metal Works, was arrested in one of the largest drug trafficking crimes this area has ever seen. More specifically, he’s charged with possession with intent to distribute international heroin, methamphetamine, cocaine, and fentanyl.”
My mouth drops open, nearly hitting the table.
“Sources tell us federal officers raided the Custom Metal Works warehouse after an anonymous tip that large quantities of illegal drugs had been transported to their location.” The camera abruptly pans to an agent who’s giving a press conference.
“This is a major victory for the hard-working men and women of the FBI, who tirelessly pursue drug trafficking organizations that smuggle illicit narcotics into the United States. It’s believed the Hanover business was established as a front for the Messina crime organization out of Italy. This syndicate has been on our radar for a long time. While their organization is primarily based near Sicily, the extent of their illegal endeavor is wide. At this time, it’s believed that their criminal activity in the United States is limited to drug smuggling. Yet, our office is on high alert for any possible sex trafficking or the transfer of arms.”
“Oh, my god,” Genni blurts.
All of a sudden, a shot of Luca being led out of the warehouse in handcuffs comes into view.
“Oh, my god, is right,” Carol Ann says. “Holy hell, Pepper. You weren’t kidding. He’s a smoke show. He’s so good lookin’ I bet the skeeters bring him flowers before they bite him.”
“Focus, Carol Ann,” Genni snaps.
He keeps his head down as if trying to hide from the camera, but there’s no doubt it’s Matteo’s brother. I’d only seen him for a few moments at a time until he ran to join us on our impromptu wedding day. He looks much different here, wearing jeans and a white tank top. His arms are restrained behind his back, the ink on full display for all to see. Yet, I’m certain it’s him.
“Oh, I’m focusing just fine.” Carol Ann hops up from her spot practically on top of me, returns to her chair, and takes a large, overly dramatic sip of her drink. Placing it down in front of her, she fans herself. “Okay, so from what I gathered from George, Luke Barrett was the assumed name he took on once he moved here. His metal shop was a legit business. He was really talented.”
Carol Ann leans across the table, dropping her voice. The three of us mimic her position. “But his father is an evil crime boss. He was apparently pissed they had the nerve to hightail it across the pond to the old US of A to get away from the family business. So, he threatened to get even.”
The three of us sit in stunned silence, our eyes bugging wide at her tale as if we’re watching some salacious reality TV segment. And in some ways, we are.
“The drugs were planted in his shop and then an anonymous tip came in to the police, alerting them Luke was smuggling them into the country with plans to distribute.”
My mind flips through the years, trying to imagine when this happened. It must’ve occurred after our wedding. Matteo so rarely brought up his family. It’s hard to say if Luke’s arrest took place while we were married or after.
Could that have contributed to my husband leaving me?
“How long until they figured out he was innocent?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think he was in jail for very long. George said that was when he was helping to gather evidence for the CIA. He gave them intel that proved Luke was innocent. Which I still think is a crock of bull. He might’ve been helping the local sheriff’s office, but I doubt a bumbling idiot like him would’ve worked with the likes of the CIA for more than a hot minute before they passed on his help.”
My face falls into my hands, overwhelmed by all of this. I feel Genni’s hand rubbing up and down my back. Matteo’s father is a crime boss? Who threatened to get even with his kids for leaving? “So is his father here in the states?”
“No. From the way George tells it, he’s still a kingpin in Italy. Luke never wanted to go back there. He met and fell for a nurse here in Hanover. His father tried to have her, and her three children, killed or something.”
A collective gasp comes out of the three of us as we listen to Carol Ann’s story.
“Yep. They somehow managed to get out of the country and are living somewhere off the grid now.”
God. No wonder he never speaks of his family. He must be terrified for them.
“Syd. Do you think that’s why Matteo left? He was scared they’d come after you?” Pepper asks, her eyes full of tears.
I feel sick. Not because I’m scared. Heck, any rational person would be. But that Matteo was in this position. Trapped between doing what he thought was right and wanting to be with me. The enormity of the situation starts to descend on me like a downpour of summer rain on a humid day.
As much as my heart hurts from the way I’ve been treated over the last few years, I can’t help but recall the tortured look on Matteo’s face when I last saw him.
Wait for me. Please, wait for me .
But wait for what? Had he put himself in danger to go after his father?
Now that all of the secrets were coming to light, I had more questions than before. Is my husband taking chances with his life day in and day out? Does he even own an auto body shop? Am I already in too deep with this man?
I run my hand down my face, trying to make sense of all of this information. Out of the blue, assorted images of black Cadillac Escalades and men wearing dark suits, speaking into radios, play like a movie montage in my mind.
Were they here for me?
Holy shit. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying not to panic. Was I safe? An uneasy feeling develops in the pit of my stomach as my eyes spring from one of my sweet, innocent friends to the next. Was spending time with me putting each of them in harm’s way?
My life’s an even bigger mess than I originally thought. I mean, what the heck was real and what was a lie? And am I willing to risk it all to find out?
Closing the door behind me, I enter the alarm code into the panel on the wall with a little more vigor than I have in the past. Well, if nothing else, this all makes more sense after the conversation with Carol Ann the other night.
I drag my weary carcass over to the couch and collapse. It’s been a long day at work. I feel like a zombie. It could be that I haven’t slept well since hearing all the details of Matteo’s secret life. It’s more than simply being concerned for his safety and mine. It’s every aspect of our lives. Questioning what was true versus what tales he’d spun to keep me in the dark.
But I have to admit, part of my current robotic state is this feeling of being in limbo. It’s as if I’m existing with the pause button permanently depressed. Always waiting. Hoping for Matteo to return. I’m simply floating through life without really living.
I’ve been spiraling through a myriad of emotions since the truth came to life. Well, George’s version, anyway. Hell, I’ve never been so glad to hear Carol Ann go on and on about one of her kinfolk in my life.
It feels as if I’m going through the stages of grief all over again. But unlike the first time that Matteo walked out without a word, this time is more anger provoking than heartbreaking. More time ticks by without a word from him. I’m done crying. No more bargaining with God for him to return. I’m too pissed off.
Sure, my heart aches for all he’s had to deal with. I can’t even imagine what his life must’ve been like growing up for them to have to flee their homeland to come here. My hand flies to my chest as I recall his words the night he approached me at Luigi’s.
“So, I take it you live here?” He’d asked.
“In Hanover? Yes. You?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t help but detect an accent. Have you lived here all of your life?”
“No. I’m from Sicily. I’ve been in the states for a few years. Moved here with my brother and sister.”
“Oh. For work?”
Suddenly, the pregnant pause before he answered seems much more profound. “We were looking for a fresh start. Thought America was a good place for it.”
Yet for all he’s had to endure, I still deserve more than a life shrouded in darkness. He committed himself to me when we got married. Yet he kept all of these secrets tucked away safe in a box. Only he had the key. Well, him and George, apparently.
Everything makes more sense now. Why we spent so much time hidden away here. Never going on date nights. No trips abroad. I understand his need to keep us safe, but at what cost?
I refuse to continue to live like this. I’ve worked hard in school and in my surgical practice. There’s more to life than drifting like a sleepwalker from one day to the next. It’s time to make some tough choices. Because I want to live in the light. No more hiding. And if I have to do it alone, so be it.
I’m getting my life back!
I bite down on my lip, wondering how risky I’m willing to be. I’ve been studying that darn Italian language app for what seems like years now, in hopes of crossing that one off of my bucket list. It seems clear Matteo will never return. But this is one dream I’m not ready to let go of.
I refuse to live the rest of my life according to his rules. We get one turn on this planet, and I want to make the most of every moment. It’s why I chose a career in medicine, surgery no less, versus living the life of an entitled socialite. And putting my future in the hands of someone who won’t be honest with me makes about as much sense as dating some pretentious snob my parents want me to consider.
I’m taking my power back, dammit. I need to follow my heart. If it costs me an early grave, so be it.
Because this isn’t living, anyway.