30. Valentina
Chapter 30
Valentina
“W hat was he doing in our house?”
It’s cloudy today, the sky heavy with an impending storm that promises to bring cooler weather. The grey light makes it look like it should just be past dawn, even though it’s close to ten in the morning, now. I’ve caught Papà just as he’s leaving the house for the day. He was gone all last night after Darragh’s sudden appearance in the kitchen, and I haven’t had a chance to confront him.
Until now.
“You’ll have to be a little more specific,” he says as he grabs a black umbrella from the stand near the front door.
“Darragh Gowan.”
Saying his name out loud – and to my own papà – feels borderline alarming. As if, by merely mentioning the man, everything that’s happened between us will suddenly be on vivid, humiliating display.
“Business. The fuck else you think?”
“Business,” I echo dully, feeling my eyes stretch wide. “Since when have you done business with him!”
It comes out accusatory. Nearly shrill. I cringe at myself, realizing that hysterical accusation is meant more for myself than it is my papà. I’m projecting my messiness all over him. Asking him when he started doing business with someone like Darragh when I should really be asking when I first thought it was acceptable to become as entangled in him as I am now.
“Since I run this fucking city, and I decide who I partner with!” He slams the end of the umbrella down against the marble, like a king with his sceptre. Then, he lifts it up and aims the end right at me. “You have no right to question me on this. Dio mio , if you weren’t my own flesh and blood…”
“What kind of business?” I ask, even though he’s just told me not to question him. I can’t help it. The gears in my head are all gummed up, smoking with friction, as I try to piece together what the hell sort of business Darragh could have with papà.
It’s like Darragh is extending his realm of influence beyond just the secret moments we’ve had together.
It’s like he’s closing in on all sides.
“The deal’s not officially done,” Papà says after a heavy pause. “I still half expect him to fuck it up. Or to fuck me somehow.” There’s a new, sudden depth to his gaze as it probes my face. Not anger now, but something more like a heavy pensiveness. “If things work out, I’ll let you know,” he finally says, strangely sombre and as cryptic as ever. “But it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with right now. Aren’t you planning some event?”
“The masquerade ball? Yeah. It’s in a little less than two weeks.”
Papà grunts, apparently satisfied with that response. And the successful subject change.
“Focus on that, then. Make it a good one, ragazza . Remind this city who we are. Make them forget all about that shitshow in August.”
The rain has just begun to fall when he leaves. I stand in the doorway, looking out as Papà and two of his men get into a vehicle and drive away. The rain becomes a downpour. A wall of rushing water that turns the world into smudges of what used to be shapes I once recognized.
Darragh has business with my papà. How the hell did he go from the Titones’ most hated enemy to someone we’re working with? Does Elio know about this? I can’t imagine he’d welcome Darragh with open arms – or an open wallet – after everything that happened with Deirdre.
Is Darragh trying to intimidate me?
Is he trying to show me just how far he can force himself into my world?
Whatever his intentions, whatever his dark purpose, he vanishes just as easily as he appeared in the kitchen yesterday.
I don’t see him in my home again.