Chapter 39 Gina
Gina
My hands are clasped tightly in my lap as I sit on Tommaso’s private plane.
After his meeting with Vincenzo, he returned home and told me everything.
Marco and Silvio were there with us, with Tommaso’s other brother, Riccardo, on speakerphone.
He wasn’t hiding this grave, horrendous reality from me.
Instead, he included me in the debrief and their analysis of everything Vincenzo revealed.
Involved me in the discussion, and argument at times, whether we could trust the Pisani Don.
Tommaso refused to tell them what had ultimately made him trust Vincenzo, but he confided it to me in the privacy of our bedroom.
He wanted me to know why he decided to trust Vincenzo with my welfare, and he wanted me armed with all the information to form an opinion on whether it happened or not.
Tommaso is giving me some power. I know that the decision is ultimately his, and he’ll do whatever he feels needs to be done, but the fact that I have some say in his decision means everything to me.
Tommaso returns to the seat beside me and pulls my hands apart, intertwining our fingers. His touch settles me, and I look from him to the two men he had been talking to.
They sit farther away in the private plane, talking quietly with Salvo.
Tomas Jude, the leader of the Saints, and Zeus, the president of the Havoc Guardians, are accompanying me, along with Salvo, to Vincenzo’s home, and will be my personal guards.
They’re Tommaso’s newest allies; both are dangerous-looking, rugged and fierce in their jeans and leather jackets.
My father will be at Vincenzo’s home. Salvo, who my father knows, is the one ‘turning me over’ to Vincenzo, pretending he’s betraying Tommaso and wants in on the action.
We’re taking a risk that my father won’t know who Tomas and Zeus are, even though they’re leaders of criminal factions in San Francisco.
He’s never dealt with the Saints or the Havoc Guardians, and these leaders tend to keep a low profile.
Tommaso insisted that I have men around me that he trusted, and whatever was in the Chamber agreement seems to make Tommaso trust them, even though their alliance is new.
He’s a strong leader, a strategic analyst who dissects the plan as thoroughly as possible before acting, and this plan has received extra scrutiny. I know that he wouldn’t put my safety in anyone else’s hands if he absolutely didn’t need to; however, his back was to the wall.
If he knew what Stefano’s role and motivation were in all this, it might be a different story; however, that isn’t the case, since Stefano has mostly been MIA.
He’s been checking in with Riccardo, giving him instructions on what needs to be done to lead their family, but they haven’t been able to locate him.
Tommaso rubs his thumb over my hand. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m not sure how I’ll handle seeing my father.”
My memories of him war with each other. The ones of Babbo bring me peace and joy, and the close-knit, loving family we once were, and I want to emulate that with the family Tommaso and I create.
Then I have memory flashes of him being the conniving bastard who I suspect killed my mother, even if I have no actual memories of the act.
When I asked Reese his professional opinion about a stroke changing someone’s personality, he said it was possible, especially if the frontal lobe or right hemisphere of the brain were involved.
Did it explain the drastic differences in the few memories I have of my father? I’m not sure. Maybe his role and ambition in the mafia fueled his change. Maybe not. I don’t think I’ll ever really know.
Tommaso’s thumb draws circles on my hand. “You won’t have contact with your father while you’re there. As far as he’ll know, you’re Vincenzo’s captive, locked in a room. Salvo, Tomas, and Zeus will be the guards outside your door, and two of them will always be present.”
“What will happen to my father?” I ask, my eyes downcast.
Tommaso places his hand under my chin and lifts my head so I look at him. “He dies. By my hand.”
I swallow against the lump in my throat.
“I’d never kill your Babbo, Gina. However, your father… His sins are too great against you. I can’t let him live. But I’ll always help you keep the version of him—the one that brings you happiness and peace—alive and in your heart.”
I blink, and a tear slips onto my cheek. He leans over and kisses it away, then presses his lips against my temple.
The dark always needs the light. And Tommaso is my dark king while I’m his queen, the one who brings the light to his dark.
But in this, I know that my light can only temper his darkness so much. And I accept what he will do.
If only to save our child, as well as others my father will destroy. For payment of the lives he’s already destroyed by trafficking them.
Tommaso kisses my temple again, pulling me into him. “Rest, il mio sole.”
Closing my eyes, I try to do as he says, knowing I’m going to need as much mental energy as possible to see this through.