“Yes,” I whisper. “And I still chose my sister.” I bury my face in my hands. “It was an impossible decision.”
Tristano gently takes my wrists and lowers them to reveal my face. “It was not only impossible but devastating either way. I can’t blame you for it.”
Maybe it’s because I’m emotionally raw or I’ve gone temporarily insane, but for whatever reason, I throw my arms around him and press my cheek to his chest. When he returns the embrace my tears flow with a freedom I never would’ve allowed in front of another person. Yet, I can’t stop them. All the while Tristano, the person who could’ve and should’ve condemned me for my actions, is the one comforting me and allowing me to take comfort in him.
He hands me a handkerchief and I sob all the more. Eventually, I pull myself together, but Tristano doesn’t rush me, despite issuing orders to those around him. By the time I step away from him, I know what I have to do.
It’s what I should’ve done all along.
“I’m going to go get him,” I say.
Tristano frowns at me. “That’s not a wise decision.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but that’s not exactly my forte.” His lips twitch once, the equivalent to a chuckle. “Here’s the thing about my father. He believes he’s owed something and if he thinks that you’re not going to pay up, he could hurt Rafael out of pure spite.”
It goes unsaid that my father could kill him, but we both know that, so there’s no point in speaking about something that neither Tristano nor I want as an outcome.
“So what do you propose to do?” he asks.
After a moment’s hesitation, I reveal the thoughts in my head. He listens with a distant look on his face while he processes my ideas and then nods at the end.
“Your strategy has some weak points, but nothing that I don’t have a solution for. You do realize the dangerousness of this task, correct?”
I glance at my sister, who’s sitting quietly on a chaise lounge, and then turn back to Tristano with a tiny sigh. “Yes, and before I leave I need to know that you’ll watch over Violetta.”
He wrinkles his brow. “I’m coming with you, not directly, but I plan to be close by in case things don’t go as planned.”
“If anything were to happen to you, Rafael would never forgive me.”
“If anything were to happen to you, Rafael would never forgiveme,” he says with great emphasis.
A reluctant smile tilts up my lips. “I wish that were true. He’s likely to kill me, if I can get to him.”
Tristano shakes his head. “That’s not true, but we don’t have time to debate the fact.”
“You’re right.” I pause and tap my thigh. “Promise me that you’ll care for my sister. If anything happens to me I want her to be protected and treated well. Can you do that?”
“I give you my vow, and those of my ancestors, ‘loyalty ’til death,’ Carina. That’s what you and your sister will have from me and mine.”
Tears threaten to spill once more and I sniff. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The heaviness of this conversation is almost too much, so I shift topics.
“Do you have any ammo I could use?”
I’m going to accidentally shoot myself.
That’s all I can think about when I walk up to the restaurant owned by my family, more specifically my mother. The trembling of my fingers is nearly impossible to get under control, but after several deep breaths, I manage to somewhat. It helps that I have my fingers concealed in a hand muff.
Which also hides my pistol.
The bell above the door chimes when I push on the handle and immediately I’m swamped with the aroma of authentic Italian cuisine. Yes, this business is used for money laundering and other illegal activities, but my mother refuses to let a good opportunity go to waste. This place is the one thing my father gave her authority over. Probably to keep her content or because it’s not an integral part of his overall revenue.
However, everyone knows this is his territory, highly profitable or not, which is why they don’t bother to lock the door. My father believes no one would dare steal from him.
My mother, on the other hand, isn’t so arrogant. Blanca Nardone never fails to collect the earnings from the restaurant every Sunday, early in morning. She’s always been paranoid about leaving the weekend’s profits in the office vault until Monday when the banks opened. So she takes it home and it also coincides with the time my father leaves his club. The fact they attended a wedding reception prior makes no nevermind to them.
