The priest doesn’t wince at Tristano’s profanity, but I do. It’s ironic that such a serious meeting, made up of mostly criminals, would take place in a church. It’s supposed to be holy ground, not a burial ground. Or maybe that’s why sometimes people are buried just outside churches?
I shiver at the morbid thought and hug my middle.
“You okay there, Violet?”
I swing my gaze to Beni and nod once. He returns the gesture and then goes back to watching his boss. The priest simply sits with his rosary now in hand and then speaks.
“I think it’s time.”
Tristano’s brows snap together. “Time for wh—”
The door of the confessional just in front of the pews opens and a woman steps from it. Everyone’s attention is focused on her. Except mine. Once again I’m looking at Tristano.
“Time for you to know the truth,” the newcomer says.
Tristano’s jaw slackens, making his lips part on a silent inhale. “Madre…”
“Madre?” Octavia parrots.
The strange woman’s gaze flickers to Octavia and then she nods. That simple action blankets the entire space in a heavy silence. It’s almost like steam, billowing and filling the atmosphere, and making it hard to breathe. I don’t think I’ve seen Tristano inhale yet.
However, his eyes showcase his emotions. The gray is cloudy at first, indicative of his confusion, but then the hue brightens into silver and flashes with an arctic gleam.
“Well, well, well…,” he says in a sardonic tone. “It’s a lovely day for a family reunion.”
Tristano’smother.
Octavia’s head swivels back and forth between Tristano and his mother. “What are you saying?” she asks, her voice rising in pitch.
“Yes, Aida,” Tristano’s upper lip curls as says the name and his mother flinches, “what are you saying exactly?”
She looks to Octavia and then points at Tristano. “He is your half-brother.”
I stare at her, then Octavia, and then Tristano. I repeat this cycle over and over, and every pass I spot more resemblances between the three of them. Octavia is almost a replica of her mother in the face, but the hair is a slightly different shade and her eyes are gray. Tristano favors her somewhat, and I guess he takes after his father more, but there’s no denying he’s her son. They share the same gray eyes and they’re both illuminated with intense emotion.
Tristano and his sister look at one another and Octavia’s composure crumbles. “What?!”
He cocks his head, a sardonic tilt on his lips. “Not only that, but you have two other half-brothers, besides myself.”
Octavia jumps to her feet and plants her hands on her hips, staring at Aida. “You had a family before us and you never mentioned them until now? Why?”
“Yes, why indeed?” Tristano folds his arms and I release a tiny sigh of relief. If he was planning on shooting anyone, he wouldn’t restrict his hands by putting them in that position. “You are certainly a master of secrets,” he says, “but your time for keeping them has ended.”
Aida exhales and brushes back her hair, and I understand why Tristano looked stunned when he first saw Octavia. A quick glance could have someone thinking they were the same person.
“It’s a long story,” she says, “and that’ll only be accessible to you in exchange for something.” She meets Tristano’s gaze with a hardened look and I flinch at the coldness swirling in her gray eyes, similar to shards of ice. “I’ll give you time to think about how much the information is worth to you and when you’ve come to your decision let me know. But don’t take too long because this offer is time-sensitive and I’ll only propose it once.”
Tristano is going to kill her.
With his body shaking from pure, unadulterated fury, and his face contorting with hatred, I’m utterly and totally convinced she’s a dead woman. Although I don’t know the whole story, it’s not hard to understand why he’s enraged.
He shocks me by giving her a curt nod and then spinning on his heel to forcefully stride down the center aisle and out the door. It’s strange that Beni doesn’t immediately chase after him, instead choosing to sit down again. I almost forget myself and ask him why, but clamp my lips at the last second. He knows better than me what Tristano’s preferences are.
However, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to go after Tristano, because seeing him like this bothers me more than I care to admit. However, I remain seated. He looked as though he might explode and I’m not ready to take on the damage he’d inflict just for being an innocent bystander, no matter how much I want to comfort him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Octavia’s voice snags my attention. As does the fact she’s speaking in Spanish. “Didn’t you think we had a right to know?”
Aida, her gaze still focused on the door where Tristano just left, sighs. It’s a weary sound and if someone can age in minutes, she has. Her shoulders sag and the gray of her eyes has dulled to a gunmetal gray instead of quicksilver. As if she has no strength left in her body, she slowly sinks into the first pew.
