Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Adriano
Leaving before Eliza wakes isn't a conscious decision so much as a consequence of being awake at five in the morning with no realistic prospect of going back to sleep.
After twenty minutes of lying in the dark listening to her breathe and thinking about what I'm going to say to Gabriele I give up. I get dressed, go downstairs, make coffee and stand at the kitchen window watching the sun rise over the garden.
The house is quiet. Rosa won't be here until nine. The kitchen still smells faintly of last night's ribollita. I think about what I'm going to say to Gabriele.
Then, when I finally decide I've stalled enough, I head to the garage and take the keys for my Mercedes from the steel cabinet on the wall.
The drive takes forty minutes. Paolo offered but I declined. As much as I appreciated the offer, I need to face Gabriele alone. This is a conversation I owe him and it’s up to me to pay in full.
When I get to Gabriele's house Lukas meets me at the door and accompanies me to the study. Gabriele is at his desk. He looks up when I walk in. I take a seat opposite him. I can’t help studying his scars more closely today as I think about how he got them.
They look less vivid these days. I wonder if he’s been having further treatment. I don’t ask.
"Tell me," he says.
So I do.
I tell him everything I know about Vida's men, the threats, what they told her they'd do to Eliza and her brother if she refused to help.
I tell him she was nineteen years old and alone and terrified and that she thought it would be a warning.
I tell him she was wrong about that and how sorry she is.
Then I tell him about the alleyway, how she went to find him. The line around Gabriele's eyes tightens almost imperceptibly. Most people would miss it but I've known him our entire lives and can read him better than most.
I tell him how she called the ambulance and waited in the shadows until she heard the sirens. Then she ran because she was frightened and had no idea what came next.
When I finish the room is silent.
Gabriele hasn't moved. His hands are flat on the desk. He looks down at them, then back at me. "She was in the alley?"
"Yes."
Another silence falls. I hear a bird somewhere in the garden and the distant sound of traffic beyond the walls.
I glance over at Lukas who's standing by the door and then at Gabriele.
He taps his finger on the desk the way he does when working through something difficult. I know better than to try to rush him.
"Why didn't she come to me?" he asks quietly.
"Because she didn't understand who you were," I say. "She thought they'd frighten you and let you go. She thought the debt would disappear and she could go back to her life. She didn't understand the kind of men she was dealing with."
He looks away toward the garden. "She should have come to me."
"She realises that now."
"I could have fixed it."
Maybe. Maybe not. There's no point in discussing what might have been.
For a while neither of us speaks. Then I bite the bullet.
"There's something else."
His eyes return to mine.
"I'm keeping her."
For a long moment Gabriele doesn't react at all. Then he leans back in his chair.
"She helped them attack me." His voice is surprisingly level.
"She was nineteen and alone and they threatened to kill her brother and put her in a brothel and she thought it would be a warning." I hold his gaze. "That's not nothing, Gabriele."
"No." He looks at the desk. "It's not nothing. It's also not nothing that I spent three years…" He stops to consider what to say. "Three years putting myself back together."
"I know."
"And you want to keep her?"
"Yes."
The silence stretches long enough that I hear the bird again in the garden.
"I think you're making a mistake," he says eventually.
"That's your right."
"Adriano…"
"She called the ambulance. She waited until she heard the sirens." I hold his gaze. "She's in my house and I'm keeping her. I'm telling you as a courtesy. Not as a request."
The silence that follows is the longest yet.
Then Lukas says from the door in exactly the tone a man might use to discuss the weather: "The Vetti family have made inquiries about the Ostia operation."
Lukas has an extraordinary ability to identify the exact moment a conversation has reached its maximum level of discomfort and interrupt it before someone does something regrettable. It's one of his more useful qualities.
Gabriele looks at Lukas and then back at me and whatever argument might have followed is gone for now. "The Vettis?" he asks.
"They're opportunists. They'll move if they think they can get away with it."
My cousin studies me for a moment then nods. The subject is closed. He reaches for his coffee and looks out at the garden.
Finally he says: "I won't come to the house."
"I didn't expect you to."
"Not yet." He turns the coffee cup slowly between his hands. "Possibly not for a long time."
"That's your decision."
His gaze remains on the window. "But I want her to know I heard it. What she did in the alley." He pauses. "I want her to know it matters."
Something eases in my chest. "I'll tell her."
"And I want her to know I don't wish her harm. What I feel is complicated but I don't wish her harm."
"I'll tell her that too."
He nods and then he sets his coffee down.
"Go," he says. "Deal with Vida. Then we'll see."
I stand. At the door Lukas looks at me with that unreadable expression he's worn for most of his adult life. Despite everything we understand each other perfectly.
On the way out Gabriele catches me in the hallway. For a moment neither of us speaks. The scar catches the light when he turns his head.
"Be careful," he says.
"I'm always careful."
"No." His gaze meets mine directly. "You're effective. That's not the same thing." A beat. "Be careful, Adriano."
His concern means more to me right now than it usually would. Maybe it’s because I know what he's really saying underneath the words. I nod. "I will."
For a moment neither of us moves. Then I say: "You'll talk to her eventually."
His expression doesn't change but he doesn't deny it. "Eventually," he says. "When I'm ready."
That's enough. It isn't forgiveness. It isn't closure. But for today it’s enough.