33. Carina
CHAPTER 33
Carina
“ G iuseppe!” His name is a cry of pure joy and warmth. And there’s shock in his eyes from the outburst of emotion.
He looks well. A bit under duress but well nonetheless. A few more wrinkles have graced their presence as well as a couple more grey hairs.
Gino had not been lying when he informed me of how stressed Giuseppe has been over the past couple months.
He holds his hands out to me and I take them. “La mia forte bellezza,” he softly croons. Tears spring in my eyes. It has been far too long since I’ve heard his term of endearment. “I have missed you greatly.”
I squeeze his hands tenderly before I take a step closer. “I have missed you as well. Please tell me you didn’t worry too much.”
His hands squeeze mine in return. “One can never worry too much. Certainly when it comes to you.”
Warmth spreads through me like a wildfire. And I welcome the burn of his affections. “I’m very well,” I’m quick to ease his mind but I can tell by his troubled eyes he doesn’t believe me. I don’t expect him to. He believes I’ve traded one prison for another. Shackled to a life of misery and cruelty. He couldn’t be more wrong. Constantine has freed me.
“He is not a good man,” he begins with trepidation. He works a rough swallow, his hands on mine tightening. “This is not a life I wanted for you.”
I understand his fears. I understand his worry. This is a man who had bestowed upon me a kindness when I was starving for it. Protecting me is woven in his blood. His allegiance never lied with my papa, it has always lied with me.
I pat his hand gently. “Come sit with me.” I steer him in the direction of the luxurious yet inviting sofa that resides under the skylight. For once I don’t seek the warmth of the sun. I no longer need the light to cleanse my soul.
“You were right to worry in the beginning, Giuseppe. Your fears were valid. You were in the dark about the man who is to be my husband. As is the rest of the world. To everyone he is The Devil of the East Coast. The Don of The Donati Famiglia. A king of the underworld. But to me, to me he is just a man. A man whom I’m very much in love with.”
He sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes widen in horror. He removes his hands from mine and stands abruptly. His eyes are sharp on mine with a plea I will never grant him. “He’s corrupted you. Seduced you into falling in love with him.”
And while I hold Giuseppe very dear and near to my heart I will not allow him to slander the man who has awakened me.
I rise and stand beneath the skylight. “You will never accuse Constantine of such heinous acts ever again. Do you understand me?”
He flinches. “Am I supposed to fear you now, too?”
My heart flares yet I stand my ground. “I never wish for you to fear me, but I will not allow you to insult the man who freed me.”
Pain mares his features. “You will choose him?” He sounds as if I’m betraying him. Digging the knife in his back as if I had one to begin with.
“If you are asking me to abandon this life and live one without him by my side I will not do it.” His face falls as a deep sorrow enters his eyes. And although I wish to not cause him pain he must purge these delusions. “I will choose him. Every time. There is not a world where he and I don’t belong together. This isn’t about choice, Giuseppe. This is what’s meant to be.”
He nods his head defeatedly. “Yes, Constantine had echoed the same sentiments.” A somber smile strains his lips. In his eyes it’s as if he’s saying goodbye.
And I don’t understand.
I cross the area and stand before him. Perhaps a closer look will help me decipher what he’s trying to tell me. But I draw the same conclusion. A farewell.
“He isn’t the man I would’ve chosen for you. Nor is he the man your mamma would’ve chosen for you.” The mention of mamma causes a great pain for the both of us. “She desperately wanted to escape this life. And she had wanted the same for you.”
I think of my late mamma. The beautiful woman was shrouded with fear. Backed viciously in a corner and sold a beautiful lie. Her sweet escape came with her death. I’ve never faulted her for it. Never thought of her suicide as a sin. No, her only sin was marrying papa.
“Mamma was brought into this life by deceit. Papa the great illusionist. But my eyes are wide open and I am unafraid. This life is mine. And I am truly sorry if it pains you to hear it but you must know it to be true.”
He drops his shoulders with resignation as a heavy sigh escapes him. But along with the grim fate he believes I’ve accepted with goodbye in his eyes he holds a smile of admiration.
“I always believed once you found your voice you would be a true force to be reckoned with. I never expected Constantine of all men to bring it out of you.” He comes to stand before me, taking my hands in his once again. His eyes glitter with unshed tears. “I had hoped for a better life for you. One without bloodshed and darkness. But I know I cannot change your mind. And I would only be lying to myself if I didn’t see the light back in your eyes. You’re glowing, Carina. You no longer need the sun to feel warmth.”
My bottom lip trembles as tears build in my eyes. And as one manages to fall he catches it with his thumb while wearing a bittersweet smile. My heart flares as I stare at the man who loved me when my own papa didn’t. A man who loved me when I didn’t love myself.
“Why do I feel like you are saying goodbye to me?”
His eyes turn down. The glittering emeralds I had always thought resembled my own. “Because I am,” he chokes out.
My face falls. I clutch his hands tighter. Acting as if he’ll float away if I let go. “Why must you say goodbye?”
Raising our hands he presses a gentle yet tender kiss to the back of my hand. He holds my hand close to his heart. He works a swallow, wearing a watery smile. “Because after I tell you the truth you will want to say goodbye.”
“What truth makes you believe I will cast you aside?”
“These truths I carry come as confessions la mia forte bellezza. And I only hope one day you will come to forgive me.”
My brows furrow in confusion as my heart gallops at a frightening pace. “Giuseppe, you’re beginning to worry me.”
He swipes another tear as it makes its descent. His hand caresses my face with a lingering touch before he pulls away. He tips his head towards the skylight. The sun's rays cast a glow upon his face. “Do you believe if I stand here long enough the warmth will absolve my sins?”
Wanting to comfort him I make a move towards him but he raises his hand for me to stop. He closes his eyes, soaking in the warmth, tears trailing down his face.
And the heartbreaking image reminds me too much of my former self.
Forgoing his handkerchief he wipes away his tears with his hands. He remains under the sky light as he focuses back on me. “Viola was a beautiful woman. You remind me so much of her.” Emotion clogs his voice and the affection he has for my mamma is palpable. I had been so lost in my own grief I had never thought of how he had felt. “I loved your mamma, Carina. I loved her in a way a butler shouldn’t have loved his employer. I loved her in a way a man shouldn’t have loved someone’s wife. And yet I did. She was my world. And for a brief moment in time I was her world, too.”
A confession.
A declaration of love.
A revelation of an affair.
How had I been so blind to see it?
But could I fault my mamma for finding tenderness in the hands of another man? Seeking the comforting embrace of arms meant to hold and not use as weapons? Could I fault her for basking in the warmth of a lover's gaze when all she had come to know was a bitter iciness?
And as I stare at Giuseppe, a man who has held a great sorrow in his eyes ever since her passing I don’t think I can.
He loved her.
For however brief their affair was he had loved her. Truly. Shamelessly. With no deceit or illusions. What he had felt for her, what he continues to feel, is real.
As shocking as it may be, I don't fault my mamma at all. It is a sin absolved.
“You don’t need my forgiveness for loving her,” I tell him. He smiles but it’s painful. His eyes tell me there’s more of a story to be told. And what lies ahead will be the ruin of us.
“I will never seek forgiveness for loving Viola. Loving her was one of the most pure feelings I have experienced in this corrupted world.” He takes a moment to collect himself. Screwing his eyes shut to take a collective breath.
“Almost twenty-seven years ago she gave birth to the most beautiful angelic baby girl. A daughter gifted from the heavens.” He speaks so endearingly of my birth it’s hard to keep a dry eye. “Even then you were blessed with the features of your mamma. There was no mistaking you were her daughter.” As I was young I remember Father Frank and the members of the Catholic Church raving about how much mamma and I were alike. Father Frank swore God had blessed us with another angel to walk amongst earth. And while Luca had some of her qualities and Elio her eyes they favor papa so much more.
“You have favored your mamma’s genes except for one. One feature that sets the two of you apart. The only feature your papa has passed down to you. Your eyes.”
My brows furrow as I stare at him perplexed. “You must be mistaken. Papa has blue eyes.”
He nods his head with tight lips. “Si, Savio Fiore does indeed have blue eyes but your papa doesn’t.”
My heart gallops in my chest. I can feel my airway constricting. “What are you saying?”
He remains silent, his eyes pleading with me for him to not confess.
But his eyes. . .
Emerald with flecks of gold.
Eyes the very same as my own.
Time stands still as the revelation strikes me like a lash.
Tears pool in his eyes. My papa’s eyes.
And after the burn of the lash dissipates the sting of betrayal sits heavy and bitter on my tongue.
“How could you allow another man to treat me so cruelly?” He winces but I am far from caring how he feels. “How could you sit back and watch as my brother,” I correct myself, “step brother abused me?” Tears fall as his face twists with anguish but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. “You could have protected me and yet you allowed it to happen!”
“You think I don’t know that?!” He cries out in agony. His shoulders slump with defeat, body ragged with despair. “I know I failed you, Carina. And the worst part is this is only part of my confession.”
“What makes you think I want to hear any more of what you have to say?”
“Because this involves your mamma. This involves her death.”
I bristle, “There is no confession to be made. Mamma committed suicide. And while papa didn’t force upon her the pills his actions caused her to swallow them.”
He takes a step towards me and I take one back. He stops, looking as if I slapped him. “Your mamma did not commit suicide.”
I scoff. “I saw the death certificate. The empty bottle of pills. Her body slumped in the tub. You’re wrong.”
But I know before he even explains he’s telling the truth. Because mamma’s death never quite sat well with me. Her practice and devotion to the Catholic religion would never allow her to commit suicide. Mamma wanted to be greeted in paradise, not Hell.
“You saw what Savio wanted you to see. Savio has always been a sly creature. And he was no different when it came time to stage the death of his wife.”
He’s always been controlling the lens. Even after my re-birth when I had thought I had seen the true ugliness of this world I was still foolishly naive. Because I could have never imagined anything as sinister as this.
Giuseppe takes my silence as cue to continue. “He had found out about the affair and knew you weren’t his daughter. You know in this world what betrayal brings.”
“Death.”
“Si, and he had his own son deliver the punishment of her crime.”
“Having an affair is not a crime worth death,” I say heatedly. “Nor is her falling pregnant and deciding to keep me.”
He nods his head. “I agree la mia forte bell-”
I raise my hand in the air to silence him. His mouth snaps shut. My eyes harden as so does my voice. “You will never call me by that way again. Do you understand?”
Crestfallen he murmurs, “I suppose I deserve that.” I swallow the lump in my throat. My emotions toy with me, causing an ache in my heart and a churning in my stomach. “Her death was by strangulation. Savio ordered Elio to kill her. And he was happy to after learning of the affair. Savio had corrupted his mind. There was no trying to talk sense to him. He had his re-birth. He thought himself a man. And it kept him in good graces with Savio as his Don. A good soldier extracting out orders with no hesitation.”
Thinking of mamma’s death as just another kill ordered by Savio sickens me. Her death meant nothing to him. Nor did it mean anything to Elio or Luca. She was just another faceless body in the trail of bodies they have behind them.
And to think of all those years I had spent harboring a guilt for killing Elio.
I was so innocent. Naive.
If he were to rise from the dead I would kill him again. Except this time I would relish his blood splatter across my face. And I would do one more by dancing upon his grave.
And if I am not to avenge myself for the punishment and abuse Savio had inflicted upon me I will avenge my mamma.
If there was a slither of a chance for his survival there is now none.
“Why was death not your punishment for betrayal?”
His eyes fleet around the room anxiously. But if he is about to deliver another confession he will face me like a man and not a coward.
“Eyes on me, Giuseppe,” I command. He obeys and I’m greeted with torment. “You will tell me why you were spared.”
I see the regret in his eyes before he speaks. “After Elio had killed your mamma my punishment was to help him stage the body as a suicide and to live a life knowing I had failed you and the love of my life.”
Fury.
White hot fury that burns like molten lava courses through my veins.
My first instinct is to seek retribution. The darkness in me wants his blood on my hands. To paint him a pretty crimson as pleas and apologies tear from his lips.
And as I take a menacing step closer he falters. almost tripping over his feet as he backs away from me in fear.
Tears pool in his eyes and I hate how I loathe to see it.
Because as much as I am furious with him, as much as I feel the sting of betrayal, I remember all the times he had risked showing affection towards me.
If Savio or Luca were to know how he consoled me for months after mamma’s death, how he tended my wounds, and how many times he continued to check on me after my rebirth he would surely be dead.
Maybe one day I will find it in myself to forgive him. But that day is not today. These wounds are too fresh. And this time he can’t be the one to mend them.
“Why confess now? Why not keep your secrets?”
His voice is small. “My hand was forced.”
I raise a cool brow. “By who?”
He nervously swallows before opening his mouth, deciding against it, and keeping it shut instead.
And if fear is keeping his mouth shut I will make him fear me more so he will sing the person's name like a canary.
“You will tell me who forced your hand Giuseppe or I will remove your hand.”
“Constantine,” he says so quickly I’m sure I didn’t hear him right.
“My Constantine?”
He nods his head.
A knife has just lodged itself in the center of my heart.
And somehow finding that he knew all of this and decided to keep it to himself hurts far worse than Giuseppe doing the same.
The betrayal digs deeper. Hitting the very marrow of my bone.
How could he have known and not tell me?
Why keep me in the dark? Was it for leverage later on? Was it to have blackmail in his back pocket against Savio and Luca?
Whatever his reasons might be I’m afraid they will fall on deaf ears.
This shouldn’t have been kept from me. My mamma. . .
My poor heart bleeds for her.
Steeling my spine and keeping the rage of tears at bay I say to him briskly, “I trust you can see yourself out.”
“I never meant-”
I silence him with a scathing look. “It doesn’t matter what you meant. It’s what you did, Giuseppe. And if you don’t see yourself out this very second I assure you the knife in the kitchen calling my name will.”
He nods his head resigned. Eyes heartbroken as they fall to the floor. Tears fall unbidden and I feel a twinge of sorrow for being the one responsible.
Nodding his head to himself one final time he brushes the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt. He then stands tall. Reminding me so very much of the butler I’ve known him to be. He graces me with a pained smile and a small bow of respect.
And as he begins to walk past me he comes to a stop beside me. “Goodbye, Carina.”
I bite down hard on my tongue. The burst of metallic flooding my mouth as I blink past the tears.
It kills me.
After all the years I had wanted him to call me by my name and now he will say it for the first and final time.
Inside I am being torn to shreds but by my face one could never tell.
From my peripheral vision I see him glance at me one last time before acceptance dons his face. Keeping my back to him as he walks away I say what I know will hurt him as much as he hurt me. “Goodbye, papa.”
I hear his sharp intake of breath. I hear the falter in his step. And if I were to look I’m certain I would see heartbreak written on his face. But I don’t spare him a glance. Even if my bleeding heart wants to.
The elevator door softly opens and when I hear it shut the tears I have been fighting break free.
Betrayal.
It’s such a bitter taste.
And so I hold onto the rage. I allow the inferno to rise within me. Because feeling anger is preferred to drowning in my sorrows.
As the fire within me breathes I stalk to the kitchen with a new mission.
Grabbing the knife from the counter I then start my hunt.
Because this knife? It has my fiancé’s name on it.