5. SQUALO
SQUALO
My father called again. This time, he begged me to come to his engagement party this afternoon so we could play the happy family. More than anything, he wanted to satisfy his fiancée by showing off the perfect stepson who had welcomed her into the family in front of everyone.
Well, Dad, I’m not that guy. I’m not going to show up.
Lorenzo sat across the table from me, ordering his usual black squid ink risotto and a glass of dry white wine. His gaze stayed locked on me, scanning every shift in my expression, while mine never left Gabriella.
My fists tightened beneath the table, nails biting into my palms as I watched her take a few hesitant steps back from the port. I knew she was looking for Gianni. It was the only reason she’d come anywhere near the marina. Otherwise, she avoided it at all costs.
She stopped.
The moment her eyes found the water, panic flashed across her face. Her body locked in place. Her knees trembled, and her stare sank into the dark blue stretching beneath the docks.
I never knew why she was so terrified.
But her fear gave me more than enough ideas for getting even. Every single one of them ended in the deep blue sea.
Payback time.
At least for now, I have to stay back. She can’t know I’m looking for Gianni too, just for a very different reason.
Lorenzo snapped his fingers at me as he dragged a fork full of risotto to his mouth. He chewed slowly.
“That’s Gianni’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember how ugly she was in school?” he laughed. “We used to pull her pants down to check if she was a girl or a boy. She always wore Gianni’s clothes.”
No. I don’t remember.
“She grew up fine,” he said with a chuckle. “I might give her a chance for one night.”
“You forgot the rules, Lorenzo.”
I raised a brow.
“You’re no fun today.” He took another bite of his risotto before leaning back in his chair. “It’s like she sucked all the joy out of you.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m putting up with her bullshit just because of Gianni.” I let out a slow sigh, my gaze drifting back to the port beyond the window, but she was already gone. “I can’t stand her.”
“No one can,” he laughed. “Out of our whole friend group, only Gianni has 1two nice words to say about her, and those words are, ‘She’s my sister.’” He shook his head, still grinning. “I pity the man who ends up with her.”
I just crossed my arms, lost in the gust blowing toward the sea. It churned the water into waves, rocking the little boats until they moved gently against one another. My mind slowly dissolved into a current of memories until we were back at the Light Festival in 2001.
Gianni dragged us there because he wanted to keep an eye on her.
He was always convinced she wouldn’t be able to take care of herself, yet he ended up surprised every single time.
Every boy who approached her walked away with his head down, staring at the floor as if questioning every decision that had led him to her.
She was brutally honest with everyone, and the words that came out of her mouth could cut even the coldest guy to the bone.
That night she seemed more relaxed because Gianni had decided to give her a few shots of tequila, hoping she’d be easier to deal with since we fought like cat and mouse whenever we were in the same room. Instead, it only made things worse.
As the festival slowly wound down, I knew she always slipped away with Annie to write stupid little messages, seal them inside bottles, and throw them into the sea. She liked being alone while doing it, but I wanted to get under her skin so badly that I convinced Gianni we should tag along.
We reached the cliffs on the opposite side of the Amalfi Coast. Before the fireworks began, he had the brilliant idea of playing truth or dare with the empty tequila bottle.
The first spin landed on him and Annie. Of course he chose dare, and of course she told him to take off his shirt, which only irritated little Miss Know-It-All Gabriella, who had been picking truth every single time. Then, unsurprisingly, the bottle landed on her and me.
“Truth or dare?” I asked.
“Truth.”
“Why are you such a bitch?” I asked without a second thought.
“Here we fucking go,” Gianni muttered, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet.
Annie crossed her arms and shot me an annoyed look.
The whole night she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut, and now she chose this moment to go quiet. Just as that thought crossed my mind, she parted her full lips and spoke so softly it was almost swallowed by the wind.
“Do you really want to know the truth?”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but that’s how this game works.”
She nodded, locking her eyes with mine. The heat had begun to melt the blue eye shadow on her eyelids, loosening the rhinestones until they threatened to fall down her cheeks.
“You know what?” Annie interrupted, glancing between us. “Next spin.”
“No,” Gabriella said, her eyes glued to mine. “He asked a question.”
She tilted her head.
“I’m a bitch because every time you’re in the same room as me, you have to make yourself everyone else’s problem.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re a bitch when I’m not around,” I scoffed under my breath.
“Stop,” Gianni snapped. “You two need to chill the fuck out.”
“I’ll just…” Annie reached for the bottle, smacking her lips together. “…spin the bottle.”
The bottle spun across the grass and, somehow, landed on Gabriella and me again. This time she was asking the question, and I was the one who had to answer.
Gianni let out a dramatic sigh. “Jesus Christ. The universe likes you two more than I do.”
“Truth or dare?” she asked.
“Dare,” I said with a smirk.
“I dare you to slap yourself.”
I laughed.
“Nah.” I leaned a little closer. “But I’m willing to slap you.”
“I’m out of here.” Annie pushed herself to her feet.
Gianni followed her, and together they walked toward the beach, leaving Gabriella and me sitting in the grass with the empty bottle between us.
The moment they were gone, my eyes drifted back to her. She caught me looking, smiled, and raised her hand, sticking her middle finger in the air.
“Oh, grow up,” I shouted at her.
“2Sei uno stronzo,” she shot back before getting to her feet and hurrying after Gianni and Annie.
I stayed behind, sitting at the edge of the cliff with the empty bottle hanging from my hand. The cliff stretched out over both the water and the beach below, letting the cool sea breeze brush against my face as if it were trying to sober me up.
I knew I’d regret half the shit I’d said tonight, but I had stopped caring a long time ago.
The three of them paused at the steps leading down to the beach. Gianni said something that made Gabriella head off after Annie. He turned around and started walking back toward me.
I watched her as she disappeared down the path.
The easy way she walked beside Annie, the softness in her voice as they talked.
Around the people she loved, she became someone else.
She was warm, fiercely protective, willing to tear apart anyone who hurt them.
But when she hated someone, she never hesitated to make them bleed. And she hated me.
I call it hate because I don’t know what else to call the way she looked at me.
I saw it burning in her eyes, felt it tightening in her throat every time she spoke.
I hurt her, I know that. But she hurt me too.
Neither of us was willing to admit it, and hating each other was easier than facing everything underneath.
Gianni didn’t say a word. He simply sat beside me. I guessed he’d grabbed a bottle of whiskey from Annie’s car because he held it out to me.
I took a sip, staring down at the beach where the girls were walking.
“I’ve got an idea.” I laughed. “Let’s fish out those bottles with their dumb messages and pretend someone finally wrote back.”
Normally, something that stupid would’ve made him laugh. Instead, he just looked at me and slowly shook his head.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded note.
“This one’s from a few years ago. I found it when I went fishing with Inno.”
The paper was still white, but it was creased and wrinkled from being folded and unfolded too many times.
“I keep it with me because it reminds me she has no one else.”
He looked down at Gabriella before dropping his gaze to the note.
“I wish Dad could come back. I wish everything could be the way it was before I was five.”
He folded it carefully and slipped it back into his pocket.
“I never knew she remembered that much. She’s not like us. We say whatever’s on our minds, but she keeps it all inside. She smiles and only tells people the good parts.”
I’d never seen her that way.
I’d never even considered it.
My gaze left Gianni and wandered back to the beach, then further, to the horizon where the dark sea disappeared into the night sky.
I sat there in silence, trying to pull myself back to the present.
We’d finished our second bottle of wine, getting drunk in the middle of the day, when my phone rang.
I flipped it open.
“Not available.”
“Oliver Sinclair, get your ass home. Now.” My father’s voice thundered through the phone.
A sharp ringing came to my ears, and I couldn’t tell if it was the wine or the depth of his voice.
“Two coppers are looking for you,” he added, his British accent growing thicker with every word he spat through the phone. “You’ve got ten bloody minutes to get yourself over here and speak to them. I’m not having people chatting shit on my engagement day, saying I raised a criminal.”
“I’ll be there.”
I snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into my pocket.
To my father, reputation was everything.
From what I’d overheard earlier, around three hundred people had been invited to the engagement party.
The staff had also whispered that he had something planned for me.
Knowing his lawyer had been trying to contact me, I assumed he wanted to retire and hand the company over.
I wasn’t ready for that. I still wanted to waste my life until I was at least thirty.
Better that than ending up like those blokes who spent their youth working, then woke up at thirty-five with a shiny car, a midlife crisis, and nothing worth remembering.
I pushed back my chair, pulled a wad of cash from my pocket, and slapped it onto the table.
Lorenzo didn’t even bother reminding me it was on his tab this time.
He was one of those “friends” who stuck around because my pockets were always full.
I pitied myself for keeping him around. We’d been in the same friend group since school, and I still couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t cut him loose.
Oh, right. I needed someone to drink with in the middle of the day.
“I have to go,” I said.
He only gave a lazy wave before his forehead dropped onto the table with a dull thud.
I stepped outside.
Two police officers were already waiting by the entrance. The moment I walked out, one of them stepped into my path.
“Oliver Sinclair? We have a couple of questions.”
It wasn’t surprising they’d found me here. The Amalfi Coast was small. Everyone knew everyone, and news traveled faster than the sea breeze. Someone had seen me, made a phone call, and they’d been sent to catch me before I slipped away.
“Did my father send you to arrest me?” I asked, leaning against the wall as I lit a cigarette. The smoke curled into the warm afternoon air.
Even if they wanted to arrest me, they couldn’t.
My father was the main investor in the tourist board. Half of this town owed him something, including the police station and the hospital.
“No,” one of them said. “We have a couple of questions about Gianni De Luca.”
“Is he in trouble?” I asked.
The best way to avoid answering a question was with one of your own.
“We received information that he was on the boat with you last night,” the other officer said. “Your father reported one of his yachts missing, and Gianni was caught on surveillance with two other perpetrators.”
“You think Gianni stole a yacht?” I frowned, then let out a short chuckle. “Don’t get me wrong, officer, but Gianni De Luca has known my family for a long time. He’d never do something like that.”
“His family isn’t in the best financial situation,” he replied. “And evidence doesn’t lie.”
“How do you know it was him?”
“We found evidence on the yacht that we can’t discuss right now.”
“So you found the yacht?” I tilted my head. “What evidence?”
“At this stage, all we can say is that he’s our main suspect, and he’s missing.”
I swallowed, the taste of wine and cigarette smoke clinging to the back of my throat.
“What did you find?” I asked. I stepped closer and gripped the front of his blue uniform shirt between my fingers.
“My father probably paid for that uniform. You have to tell me.”
The other officer shoved me back.
“That's an assault on an officer, Mr. Sinclair. If you don’t step back, we will arrest you.”
“Fine.” I lifted my hands and took a step back. “Just let me know if you find anything else.”
One of them pulled out a notebook and scribbled down a few notes. Then they turned and walked back to their white police car.
I stayed where I was, leaning against the wall, watching it disappear down the road.
And I was left with only one question.
What did you do, Gianni?
1. yes, he's that dumb.
2. You’re an asshole