14. Dante #2
“You’re doing that thing again,” Raphael observed, sliding the chopped sage toward me.
“What thing?”
“You disappear somewhere else in your head.” He studied me. “Where do you go?”
I added the sage to the sauce, watching it infuse the cream with flecks of green.
“To another kitchen,” I admitted. “Warmer. Smaller. Filled with more laughter.”
Raphael sighed. “I wish those memories hadn’t faded.”
I stirred as I considered what was safe to share.
“When you were about four, there was a rainy day when we couldn’t go to the park as planned.
We had a picnic in the living room instead.
We spread a blanket on the floor and made tiny sandwiches.
You insisted on wearing your raincoat, anyway.
” I smiled at the recollection. “We learned to make paper boats, and sailed them in the bathtub while the storm raged outside.”
Raphael listened, absorbing every detail. “That sounds nice.”
“It was.” I tested the sauce, adding a pinch of salt. “Life was good.”
The water came to a boil, and I added our handmade agnolotti to the pot.
“These only need about one to three minutes,” I explained. “Fresh pasta cooks much faster than dried.”
Raphael watched the pasta bob in the water. “Dante?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” His voice was thick with emotion. “For remembering. For telling me. For everything.”
I drained the pasta. “You’re my brother. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
I finished the dish, plating the agnolotti and pouring the sherry cream sauce over them. A sprinkle of Parmesan and fried sage leaves completed the presentation.
“It’s beautiful,” Raphael said as I placed the plates on the dining table. He brought the drinks. “Let’s see if it tastes as good as it looks.”
We sat across from each other at the massive table designed to seat twelve.
Raphael took his first bite and closed his eyes in appreciation. “Wow, this is delicious.”
“Your agnolotti turned out perfectly,” I said. “You have natural talent.”
“I had an excellent teacher.” He savored another taste. “Do you think someday we could cook for Father?”
The question chilled the warmth out of the room. “Why would you want to do that?”
Raphael pushed pasta around his plate. “Maybe if he saw how I could be useful in other ways, he’d let me join the family business.”
Had Salvatore been hinting at Raphael’s future? Making hidden threats?
I kept my voice controlled, very conscious of the silent cameras above us. “Has he said something to you?”
“No, not exactly.” Raphael wouldn’t meet my eyes. “But he makes comments sometimes about how I’m getting older and I’ll need to contribute to the family soon.”
I set down my fork, not wanting to give away how badly my hands shook at the possibility. “There’s plenty of time for you to have a job later.”
“But why can’t I start small with an internship? It’d just be filing paperwork and answering phones, right? Then I can work my way up like you did.”
Like I did. The thought of Raphael anywhere near Gennaro Corporation made me ill.
“Father said I could shadow you,” he added, his voice rising with excitement. “That way, I can see what you do and learn the business from the ground up.”
I took a careful sip of water, buying time to compose my response. Salvatore was watching, so I couldn’t react too strongly.
“That’s interesting,” I commented in a neutral tone. “What brought this on?”
He shrugged. “I want to contribute. You’re always working for our family, Dante. I’m almost sixteen. I could help, even if only part-time after school.”
“Raphael.” I kept my tone gentle. “Your job right now is to be a student and enjoy being fifteen. Focus on hanging out with friends like Matteo and your debate team competitions. Worry about normal teenage things. You’ll have the rest of your adult life to work.”
“But I want to be useful,” he insisted. “Father says the Gennaro name means something in this city. That we have responsibilities.”
I could hear Salvatore’s manipulative words coming through my brother’s mouth. The bastard was already laying groundwork. I’d be damned if I’d let that happen. “You can be responsible later. Trust me when I say the family business is complicated. It’s not something you want to rush into.”
“But you started working for Father when you were sixteen,” Raphael countered. “That’s only one year older than I am now.”
Because I had no choice. Because it was either me or you. But those were truths I could never express.
“Which is why I can confidently say I wish I’d had more time to be a kid,” I said instead. “I took for granted how simple life was when I only had to focus on school without the pressures of work.”
“You don’t want me working with you, do you?”
I needed to tread carefully. If I pushed too hard against the idea, Salvatore might speed up his plans out of spite. If I seemed too accepting, Raphael would pursue it more actively.
“What I want is for you to have every opportunity I didn’t. To make choices based on what you want, not what’s expected of you.”
“But I want to work with you.” His eyes pleaded with me. “We hardly see each other as it is. If we worked together, maybe that would change.”
His innocent reasoning twisted the knife deeper. He had no idea what “working together” actually meant.
“What I do for Father isn’t suitable for someone your age. Or even someone my age, to be honest.”
My brother’s expression grew concerned. “Why? Is it dangerous?”
I hesitated. “It requires sacrifices I don’t want you to make. I handle the business so you can focus on school, Raphael. That’s the arrangement Father and I have.”
“But that’s not fair to you,” he protested.
“Don’t worry about that. Seeing you grow up as a normal teenager makes everything worthwhile.”
He fell silent for a few moments. “But Father won’t be happy if I tell him I’m not interested.”
“Let me handle him. Focus on being fifteen. When you’re older, maybe you can work at the family business someday if that’s what you want.”
It was an empty promise. I’d never let Raphael become an employee for the Gennaro family, not even after I destroyed Salvatore and took control. He deserved better.
“But I feel so worthless sometimes,” he complained. “You work so hard for my sake.”
“Because I’m your older brother. It’s my responsibility to take care of you. Your youth is precious, Raphael. Please don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.”
He nodded, the excitement fading from his expression. “Okay. If it’s that important to you.”
“It is.” Relief washed through me at the temporary reprieve. I’d take whatever time I could get. “Besides, these agnolotti prove you have talents far beyond filing paperwork. Maybe you should consider culinary school instead.”
That earned me a small smile. “You think I’m that good?”
“You have potential, with a few more lessons, of course,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood. I picked up my fork again. “Finish your dinner before it gets cold. All that hard work deserves to be appreciated.”
We returned to safer topics as he told me more about his debate team and a movie he had seen. His innocent enthusiasm was a healing balm to my battered soul that had weathered so many storms for his safety.
As we cleaned up after dinner, Raphael turned to me. “Dante?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I do.”
In my world of calculated transactions and forced performances, Raphael’s adoration was the only genuine thing that remained.
“I love you, too,” I replied, the words coming easily despite the cameras watching us. “More than life itself.”
His smile returned. “The agnolotti was better than anything we could have ordered in.”
“Next time, I’ll teach you how to make tortellini. They’re trickier, but worth the effort.”
“Another difficult preparation with a satisfying result?”
I ruffled his hair. “The best things always are.”
My phone vibrated with a message from Salvatore reminding me that my visit was almost over.
He expected me at the brothel within the hour for a special client.
I sent an acknowledgment, then pocketed my phone.
The last few minutes with Raphael were mine.
“Unfortunately, I have to head out soon. I have an early class tomorrow.”
Disappointment flickered across his face. “Will you be able to visit this weekend?”
“I don’t think I’ll have a business trip, so I can hopefully spend more time with you.” Because of Salvatore’s capricious punishments, I had learned early on to never make firm promises. It was the fastest way to guarantee he’d turned me into a liar.
Raphael gave me a tight hug. “Thanks for dinner. And for the cooking lesson.”
“Anytime.” I hugged him back, treasuring the moment with my brother safe in my arms. “I’ll talk to Father about that movie with Matteo.”
“You don’t have to. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me.” We walked over to the elevator. “You deserve normal teenage experiences, Raphael. Call me tomorrow after school, okay?”
“I will,” he promised, raising a hand in farewell.
The last thing I saw before the doors closed was his genuine smile.
As I descended toward the waiting car that would take me to Gennaro Corporation, I straightened my spine and hardened my expression. Dragon, the brothel’s most valuable asset, needed to report for duty.