Eight
DARIO
Three days. It’s been three days since I last saw Liana and I’ve spent every single minute thinking of her, and only her—her angelic features resembling an innocent soul, that spitfire attitude she holds and the warrior I know she can become with a little guidance.
It’s a strange concept that my brain wants to focus on her, while my heart longs to hate her. Everything within me screams to hurt her, to treat her as nothing more than a beneficial arrangement, but my mind refuses to let that happen. Morning, noon and night, she’s all I think about and I despise it. Who does she think she is? She wormed her way into my life and it feels as if my brain refuses to see her as anything other than my future wife. I trained it better than this.
I trek through the halls, heading for the kitchen for a snack, and I stop in my tracks. Listening intently, I hear an angelic laugh echoing around me and I immediately retrace my steps. My stomach can wait.
As far as I know, that’s my mother and Kat conversing with Liana, trying to make light of a not-so-easy situation—it’s what they do best. They have that spark about them that allows them to see the best in the worst of circumstances. And by the sounds of it, they’re succeeding in helping Liana do the same. They’ve spent every waking minute trying to make the change easier for her.
I slip back into my office, closing the door, and tread over to my desk, my mind still circulating with images of Liana, and now, the sound of her happiness, too. It’s like she has a permanent place there now, burying herself in the fold of my brain that holds everything important, almost as if she belongs there. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t belong anywhere, especially not with me. She’s too pure for my world. Too pure to be dragged through all the gore that awaits her once we marry.
A firm knock on my door snaps me from my thoughts, and I bellow out to grant them entry. The door swings open, and my father walks in with my grandparents. Immediately, I rise to my feet and wait for them to sit down before returning to my previous position.
“I hear congratulations are in order, boy,” my grandfather says, the smile on his face seeming genuine. “Your grandmother and I never thought this day would come.”
I release a heavy sigh. “It’s not exactly a miracle, though, is it?”
“A miracle means something unimaginable, something extraordinary… Since we all thought you were opposed to the idea entirely and it’s actually happening, I think that word is a perfect fit.”
I glance at my grandmother as she stares at me with a smile adorning her lips. “It wasn’t how you imagined; we know that, but we appreciate you living up to tradition and making the family proud,” she says in her usual polite tone. Only she could make our traditions and legacy sound like an honour and privilege to live up to.
“So, when’s the wedding?” my grandmother continues. “I assume she’s already been through the routine tests. Have you had the results back?”
“They’ll be back any day now,” I assure her. “She and Kat went to the clinic a few days ago. It’s still early. We have time, Nonna.”
“You’ll have them by tomorrow, I’m sure of it. I assume the wedding will be soon after?”
I nod with hesitation. “Yes, hopefully, within a few days. Mama, Kat and Liana are still planning the ceremony. The invites are set to go out tonight. You can have yours before you leave to go home, though.”
“Nonsense,” my grandfather chimes in again. “If all goes according to plan, the wedding will be soon, and if so, there’s no need for us to go home to Italy, only to make the trip again in a few days.”
“Your grandparents will be staying with your mother and me until the wedding,” my father adds.
I want to refuse, to tell them that I want the ceremony short and simple with very few witnesses. It’s not something either of us wants to remember, I’m sure of it. I don’t want to imagine the heartbreak on that pretty little face of hers as everyone congratulates her on a marriage she never wanted in the first place.
“That’s great,” I finally say, pushing aside my actual thoughts. “It will be a big help to have you here.”
“Now, where is my future granddaughter-in-law? I’d like to meet her.” My grandmother stands, brushing herself off.
“Why don’t you show her, Rio? I’ll take Dad to our house and get him settled. Mama, you can join us when you’re ready.”
I shake my head. “I have a scheduled call in,”—I check my watch—“well, now, actually. Could you take her?”
My father agrees with a silent nod of his head. “Make yourself available for dinner at 6 pm; your mother has set up a cake tasting for dessert.”
“I’ll be finished by then,” I assure him. “Now, if you would excuse me…” I display a hand towards the door, signaling for them to leave.
Within a few seconds, they all disperse and I take a few moments to breathe. Everything is moving too fast. Something screams within me to stand up to my grandfather, but I can’t—no, I won’t. He’s done all he can do to ensure I have everything he did when he was don. He’s made sure that I have everything necessary to be as great a leader as he was. Every command that comes from my father comes from him first. While my father is the godfather, my grandfather will always have that unofficial title.
Grabbing my phone, I text Red to join me, and he soon appears, settling himself in front of me.
“It’s the Russians, right?” he asks, kicking his feet up onto my desk.
Raising an eyebrow, I give his shoes a hard look before flicking my eyes up to his. He rolls his eyes before lowering his legs, his feet thudding against the floor. “Yes, the Novikovs, not the Sokolovs. I took one glance at their proposal and immediately dismissed it. There’s nothing they could offer that we don’t already have or need.”
“Aleksandra’s good, though” he adds, nodding his head. “She’s picked up the slack that gathered from her older siblings' disappearance, and she’s improving with every passing day. I’m sure having them as an ally will be good for us. Besides, you’d rather the Novikovs over the Sokolovs—they’re much more efficient and less… Hm, what’s the right word—”
“Heavy handed? Likely to hold a grudge? Or maybe less likely to fuck you over?”
“All of the above,” he agrees with a laugh.
“Well, after this phone call, we’ll know for certain. There’s only so much she can divulge in the contract and even less over the phone. This call is to get the basics and a meeting place.”
He nods, and I dial her number, placing it on speaker. “Aleksandra?”
“Dario,” she replies with an icy tone. “I assume you’ve had a chance to read over the file?”
“I did, and I’m impressed. You’ve done some good work in the past year. A lot better than anyone could’ve expected. You have my condolences—”
She sighs. “My brother and sister aren’t the nature of this call. My family has dealt with our loss and I’m doing everything humanly possible to live up to everyone’s expectations of me. Now, how about we get back on track, da ?”
“Of course, my apologies.”
“Good, now tell me your thoughts, Dario. How does everything look?”
“Efficient,” I say without embellishment. “You seem to have included all your greatest achievements, but before we go ahead and schedule a meeting, I’d like to hear about your war stories. You know, the ones that didn’t end as you’d planned.”
She sighs again, this time heavier. “All I will say over the phone is there’s more than I’d care to admit. We were ambushed, sliced and diced, tortured… but we only lost one innocent soul during the process. She was dead long before we got there, but that’s still a name in that little black book we all carry, I’m sure.”
“Again, that’s impressive, Aleksandra. You must realise by now that not all losses are through faults. Sometimes, you’re late, but that doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job.”
“It will always be something I carry, though,” she says, her voice weaker now.
“Your brother would be proud of the woman you’ve become, and I know he’d be impressed by how much you have accomplished in his absence. We all know how difficult it is to live up to someone’s name, but just think of it this way, if he was still around, you would never have made a name for yourself. You would be sitting back and watching while he gets all the glory and you do god-knows what with your life. You should be fucking proud of yourself.”
“Thank you, Dario. I’m proud of myself, but I cannot take all the credit. I will forever be in his shadow because I refuse to step out of it. He should be here having this conversation with you, not me.” There’s a brief silence in the air, allowing both of us to compose ourselves. “Would you like to schedule a meeting?” she finally asks.
“How does two weeks' time work for you?”
“Great actually. How does Friday 13th work for you?”
“Perfect, I’ll mark it down and we can talk further at a later date to cement the details.”
“Good. I’ll speak to you then, Dario. Have a nice night.”
“You too, Aleksandra.”
“Yeah, you too, Aleksa,” Red blurts out before the call ends.
A breathy laugh escapes me. “You always have to put your two cents in, don’t you?”
“I had to make my presence known. You called me in here and didn’t even let me get two words out.”
I shake my head; another breathy laugh falls free, this time deeper and more genuine. “Did you have anything to add?”
“Maybe a ‘hi, hello, how are you’, I don’t know. It would’ve been nice to be included, though.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
Red and I, while not brothers by blood, are brothers nonetheless. I learned at a young age that family doesn’t mean the shared DNA that courses through your veins. Take my father, for instance. He’s a despicable human being and has no part in my life now. If I wasn’t half of him, he wouldn’t have ever been in my life to begin with. He helped make me, but that means nothing to me. He has never and will never have anything to do with me, my family or the family I make for myself. That’s something that will never change.
Red has no family—none that he’s been in contact with in years, anyway. He’s been an unofficial member of our family for the past fifteen years, and he was in our lives for years before that. He was the one thing that didn’t fit, but he’s long since adapted and has become a better version of himself with us—or at least I like to believe that.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” he asks, helping himself to a glass of whiskey.
A heavy sigh escapes me. “Dinner at 6 pm and a cake tasting for dessert.”
In an instant, he’s up on his feet, straightening his suit. “Lead the way to the cake then,” he says, his excitement evident as he bounces in place.
“After dinner,” I remind him.
His smile falls and he falls back into his seat. “Way to kick a man when he’s down, Rio,” he mutters. “I heard cake and forgave you for leaving me out of the conversation… Now, you’re taking that away from me, so you know what? I don’t forgive you anymore. Have that, you fucking twat.”
“I’m not taking it away from you,” I scoff with a laugh. “It’s not like I put the plate in front of you and snatched it away—”
“You took away my cake and you know it,” he cuts me off. “I only looked forward to your wedding to see you in a proper groom’s suit, not your usual one, and the damn cake. Now, I can’t even taste the cake beforehand. This is hell, Rio. You’ve put me in hell.”
“It’s not even your wedding and you’re obsessing over cake? Your future wife will really have it rough.“
“Well, at least my future wife, whomever she may be, won’t have a mean kick. I mean, I hope she does for certain reasons, but as long as she keeps it away from my balls, we’ll get along fine. You have your hands full. Let’s just say, I’m glad I’m not in your shoes.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” I mutter under my breath.
I can’t stop thinking of Liana. I hate that she’s lingering in my mind like she belongs, because she doesn’t. She doesn’t belong anywhere near here for that matter. This is my house, my life… and her father’s to blame for all this mess. He’s a soulless asshole—I would never dream of putting my daughter in a situation she’s not comfortable in, but I don’t have the power to stop this. It came from someone more respected and with more loyalty under his belt. My grandfather. Sure, my father played a huge part in it, but I learned early on that what my grandfather wants, he gets, with a mere snap of his fingers. My stature means nothing when I’m living in their shadows.