Chapter 30 #2
"We found out yesterday. She's had complications, so we couldn't find the gender until now.
Twin daughters." He drinks, closing his eyes.
"And all I could think about was Gemma. How she grew up.
What Bianca did to her. What I did to her.
" He looks at me, his tongue presses against his teeth, and I can't tell if he's searching for words, or trying to suck the blood from his mouth.
"I have daughters coming. And I can't—I can't imagine doing to them what we did to Gemma.
" He chuckles, shaking his head. "No offense, but I'd never fucking let them marry someone like you.
Gemma was smart. Beautiful. Capable. And we wasted her.
Destroyed her. Because we couldn't see past her use to us. "
I want to tell him that Gemma is all of those things still, but I see an opening. Adrian feels guilt.
"You have a chance to fix it."
"I can't un-disown her. The captains would see it as weakness.
They'd question my authority." He leans back, closing his eyes slowly before reopening them.
The silver of his irises are cold. "But I can.
..reach out. Privately. Let her know she's not completely cut off. That I—" He stops. "That I'm sorry."
He looks away, downing the rest of his drink. I know this was hard for him.
I don't fucking care though.
It's not enough. It'll never be enough.
"She won't forgive you."
He shrugs, his shoulders sagging a bit. "Maybe someday."
I roll my eyes at how little he knows his own sister. Gemma can hold a grudge until judgement day.
"What about you?" he asks.
"What about me?" I know what he's asking, but I don't want to discuss it. We aren't friends. And he can fuck off.
"Do you think you deserve absolution?"
I glare. "That's for Gemma to decide."
His brow raises. "I assume so far she's told you to fuck off, or else, you wouldn't be here trying to smash my face in."
"She doesn't know I'm here." I admit. I struggle for words. I always struggle when it comes to Gemma. "She deserves better than what we did."
Adrian studies me for a beat. His silver eyes glance up, down, and back up again. "You really mean that."
"Yes."
"Then prove it. Beating the shit out of me isn't going to make her forgive you. Saying sorry might."
He gets up from his desk and unlocks the door.
"Now, get the fuck out of my house."
The cemetery is quiet. Cold. Gray sky threatening rain.
I walk to Antonio's grave. Fresh flowers. Someone's been here recently. Probably Marcello, or one of his brothers.
I stand there. Looking at the headstone.
ANTONIO MARINI BELOVED FATHER, UNCLE, AND HUSBAND
Beloved father. Bullshit.
I used to think he was that. Until I learned he'd been setting us all up. Building us into weapons for the family. Me—the killer. Marcello—the strategist. There's no telling what his brothers were built to be.
Antonio didn't love. He used. He controlled. He manipulated.
Just like me.
I didn't even fucking see that until now. His last breath was used trying to force me to get rid of my wife, so he could have a fucking heir and make sure the Marini's continued their centuries long control of the family.
He didn't care about me.
"This is fucked up," I say it out loud. To the grave. To the man who made me what I am. "Gemma. I'm destroying her. You forced me to marry her. Then made me fuck her. And now, I fucking love her, and I don't know how to deal with that."
The wind picks up. Cold.
"You taught me power is everything. That love is weakness. That control is how you survive." I crouch down. Eye level with the stone. "And I believed you. Because you were right. About most of it."
A crow caws. Somewhere distant.
"But you were wrong about Gemma." I stand. "She's not weakness. She's not a liability. She's the strongest thing I have. And I've been treating her like she's the problem when really—" I stop. "—I'm the problem."
I laugh.
"I suppose you did tell me that. You always told me I was not going to be good at love." I remember all the therapist he sent me to. In hindsight, I realize he wanted to learn how to handle me.
After all, what made me great, my numbness, also made me unpredictable.
"I don't know how to be different. How to love without controlling. How to trust her. How not to fucking ruin her." I run my hand over the cold stone. "You didn't teach me that. You taught me to take what I want and hold it tight. To never show weakness. To always be in control."
But Gemma doesn't want to be held tight. She wants to be free.
"I can't do that with her," I say. "I have to give her power. Make her my equal."
The grave doesn't respond. Obviously.
Antonio is probably rolling in it, but I don't give a fuck.
I turn to leave. Stop. Look back.
"Thank you. For everything you taught me. For making me strong. For making me Don." I pause. "The family is in good hands, but it needs more than just mine."
I walk away.
Leave Antonio in the ground where he belongs.
And I go home. To my wife.
To try to be the man she needs.
Even if I have no idea how.