I get to my feet and fist my hands at my sides to keep from strangling the woman who gave me life. How ironic would it be if birthing me ultimately led to her death today? “All I heard was a story about achildwho didn’t know what they wanted, married the first man that came along, and then regretted it. Which brought about adultery, a pregnancy, and ended with her cowardly actions bringing about the near destruction of her former family, the same family she swore a vow of loyalty to. Did I miss anything?”
By the time I’m finished speaking my nostrils flare with each rise of my chest, every one of my breaths sharp. Frustration from the lack of closure builds within me like molten lava before a volcanic eruption. As much as I value clarity above most things, this might be a time when ignorance is truly bliss.
“That’s everything,” Aida says quietly.
I give her a curt nod, my eyes little more than slits. “This was a poor investment in both time and money spent. As such, I expect a vehicle and driver to be waiting for me outside in the next five minutes.”
My strides are careful and measured, contrasting with the rage trying to overtake me. I anticipated more from this conversation and that’s the problem. Aida turned out to be nothing more than a foolish young woman, who grew up to be a manipulative and conniving adult who only cared about what they wanted, taking no responsibility for their actions. Or for those they vowed to care for.
How my father ever thought her worthy of his affection is beyond me. He wasn’t much older than my mother when they met, but I thought he was mature enough to know better than to marry someone so fickle by nature. If he’d chosen a different wife, then he, along with my brothers and I, wouldn’t have suffered. Not to mention Octavia, in addition to anyone I’m not aware of.
It’s unfathomable to me that someone could walk away from their family, of all things.
Perhaps Aida didn’t know any better because of her age, but I don’t view that as a viable excuse. It only proves that some people can’t truly know what they want until they’re older. There isn’t a specific year in someone’s life that brings about complete understanding of one’s self, but I highly doubt it happens at seventeen fucking years old.
I open the door to the guest house and my dark mood intensifies when my gaze lands on Violetta and Benito. He hovers behind her with one hand on her shoulder and the other covering the firearm she’s holding. Benito is quick to notice my entrance and drops his hands away from her immediately, but she keeps the weapon level and squints with concentration.
“It’s heavier than I thought,” she says.
Benito doesn’t respond and from the way he takes a step back from her it’s obvious I’m not doing very well in concealing my fury. “Hey capo,” he says.
Violetta spins to face me and her gaze, along with her smile, is brighter than the Northern Lights. They instantly dim once she scans my face. “Tristano?”
“We’re leaving. Now.”
I step outside, not bothering to retrieve my personal effects left behind. It can all be replaced with money. If only that were true of people.
“Tristano?”
Hearing Violetta’s voice, threaded with concern and confusion, has me briefly closing my eyes to ward off the vulnerability she creates within me. She’s a threat to me in so many ways.
Because I would do anything, sacrifice anything for her.
After speaking to my mother this morning, I’ve come to realize I’m more like my father than I’d originally thought. He took responsibility when necessary and I’ve followed in his footsteps. Butunlikehim, I won’t allow a woman to destroy me and those I care for.
Resenting my father while he rests in the grave isn’t beneficial, nor will it repair the damage my mother created, yet I now blame him for not being strong enough to do what he should’ve; what I’m going to do now.
The sins of the father are visited upon their children… But I’ll be damned before that happens to mine.
I turn to face Violetta, taking in her beauty, sensuality, and youth. She stops directly in front of me and it’s close enough to make out the worry swimming in the deep pools of her eyes, as well as inhale the fragrance of her. For a moment my resolve weakens and the desire to touch her, to kiss her flows through my blood, and like the life-sustaining substance, she is what I need to live.
But I don’t need her to survive.
“Is everything alright?” she asks, placing a hand on my arm. “Did something happen with Aida?”
I pointedly look at where her fingers rest on my sleeve and then at her. Violetta lets her arm fall away with hurt flashing in her gaze. It guts me, but I suppress the reaction.
“She told me what I wanted to know,” I say, “so there’s no reason for us to stay here any longer.”
“Okay.” Violetta takes a deep breath and then closes the distance between us. It’s unexpected, temporarily shocking me, which is why I don’t react quickly when she cups my cheek. “I’m worried about you. Is there anything I can do?”
I take a step back, removing her touch. “No.”
She cradles her hand to her chest as though I’ve wounded her physically and her gaze fills with pain. It flips to anger faster than I can blink. “Why are you acting like that? We might not have known each other for very long, but it doesn’t take a genius to recognize something is wrong with you. What did Aida say that upset you so much?”
“This isn’t about her, it’s about you and me.”
“Us?”
