“What about?” I ask and then wince because I don’t really want to know.
He stands next to me at the sink and his nearness is almost too much.
I want to lean into him, spill my secrets and regrets.
“I’m looking into your father's case," he says, sending a shock of panic through me. "I've hired someone to dig into the records, find out what really happened."
"Why would you do that?" He can’t do that.
His brow furrows. "I'm confused. Don't you want to know who's behind your father's arrest and murder?"
I turn away to rinse the glasses. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What the fuck?” As if realizing he’s swearing in a houseful of children, he cuts himself off. He leans in closer. “You still think I was behind it."
All the painful memories come flooding back. "It's complicated."
"It's actually very simple. I didn’t do it and I plan to prove it to you.”
I close my eyes as a tempest of emotions make it difficult to think. "What does it matter now? He's gone. Finding out won't bring him back."
“It matters to me. I didn’t do this, Elena. I’m tired of your thinking I did.” He stares at me like he doesn’t know me. "It matters because someone destroyed your family and made you believe I was responsible. How can you not want to know who did that?"
"Because knowing won't change anything!" I grip the edge of the sink feeling like my world is slipping away. "It won't undo the past. It won't give my children their grandfather back."
"So you're just going to let whoever did this get away with it?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Let them continue to blame me?"
The guilt wells again because I know it’s not fair to him.
“The Elena I knew wouldn’t have given in like that.”
"You don't know me anymore."
"I know enough." His gaze locks onto mine. "I know you claim to believe I'm innocent, but you're still punishing me for something.” He shakes his head. “Someone stole my life. Stole you from me. Or did they? Was I wrong about us?"
Guilt, fear, and a wish that we could reclaim our past swirl inside me. “It’s not about what we had or what I want anymore, Luca.” I gather my strength to look at him with determination to make him understand. "Don't you get it? My father was a captain in the Vitale family. If they could do that to him, what would stop them from coming after my children if I start asking questions?"
I see the shift in him, like my logic is reaching through the anger.
The danger isn't just theoretical.
It's real.
If Aldo Vitale orchestrated his brother's death and Luca’s exile, who else in this web might still be lurking in the shadows?
Because I know it’s not just Gio.
"That's why you've kept your distance," he says slowly, realization dawning. "Not just because you blamed me, but because you were protecting yourself. Protecting them."
I nod, relieved that he understands. "I can’t risk it.”
He studies me. “If that’s the case, you think your uncle or Dom was behind?—”
“Dom?” I say quickly. I don’t want to mess things up for my cousin, and I promised him I wouldn’t reveal anything he told me of his suspicions about his father.
“But Aldo—” His phone buzzes, interrupting whatever he planned to say. He checks the screen. "I have to take this." Hesteps into the living room, keeping his voice low, and I watch him, feeling a mixture of desperation and determination.
When he returns, I’ve regathered my resolve even as it kills me inside to do so.
