I didn’t know. I really didn’t want to delve too deeply into it either.
Marcello’s voice entered the fray, only remotely, and my father quickly turned his attention toward him. I was wincing at the words he was using and slowly edged my way out of the kitchen. I made sure to pass the parlor entrance silently, making my way toward the stairs.
I doubt Romeo would apologize to Marcello for getting my father to take it out on him. He probably didn’t care at all. I gripped my hand into a fist as I made my way up the stairs. It wasn’t worth stressing over.
I saw Natalia standing along the banister, peering down toward the parlor. She had a small smile on her face, which caused me to shake my head. She was clearly happy that she wasn’t the one being chewed out down there, not that I could blame her. I’d escaped, just as she had.
“Enjoying the show?”
She lifted her eyes to mine, still grinning. “Of course. It’s so funny that a small, angry man can cause both of them to freeze like that. We’re all too scared of him.”
I raised my eyebrows at her. “For good fucking reasons.”
“Well, I don’t think we should be,” she said, her voice low. “Imagine if he just died one day. We’d have all the money along with free reign of the house and the option to make an actual fucking decision around here. It’d probably feel like heaven or something.”
“Don’t talk too loud. You don’t want him to hear you.”
She scoffed at me. “I don’t care anymore. He’s a jackass, and I’m so tired. Aren’t you?”
When I was younger, I’d definitely thought about killing my father. I’d thought of it so many times that there were all kinds of different methods I’d come up with. Anything to get rid of him. The easiest way, in my mind, had been murder. It seemed ridiculous that I’d put so much time into something that would never happen. I was looking to control my own life, but I’d given up on the idea for a long time.
“I just want you to be careful,” I told her after a moment to consider her words. “You know how Dad gets sometimes. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of what you’re saying.”
“It’s not like the house is bugged.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, I’d believe anything at this point. Just try to be careful.”
“You’re way too overprotective.”
I patted her on her back as I walked past her, making my way to my room. I knew that she was right. I was overprotective of her, but for a good reason. She had been through as much as I had when we’d returned to my father’s house after living with our nonna for so long.
I opened my bedroom door and sighed, lifting my eyes to see the picture on my dresser. It was my nonna and my nonno. I stared at the picture until it started to blur. What I wouldn’t have given to have her back in my life. She was one of the few people who’d ever shown me kindness, and Natalia and I had thrived when we lived with her.
She was, of course, not really part of the criminal underworld. The mafia life hadn’t been something she was born into—not like us. It was her daughter, my mother, who had married my father, bringing my nonna into the fray. My nonna had been smart and kept her distance from the gruesome acts that came with being a criminal.
Natalia had resulted in the death of my mother, which meant that my father wanted nothing to do with her during that time. We’d been whisked away, just the two of us, to live with my grandmother, all while the other three stayed with my father. Things had been so different that we were still distant with each other. It was as though we were unsure of how to even communicate or act around each other. Natalia had retained her spitfire energy, and I’d crept out of the house, trying to run from the situation.
I walked over to the dresser and lifted the picture in my hand. The edges around the black and white photo were peeling and edged with wear. My nonna had held onto the picture for decades, enjoying the handsome face of her husband. I wanted to know what that must’ve been like to find someone who truly loved you so much that, even in death, they cradled you. I bit my lip. I wanted to go back and steal Alessandra again. I wanted to hear her voice, to reminisce about those times that seemed so far away. It was the closest thing to having my nonna back in my life.
I turned the picture around in my hand and saw the writing along the back. Emilia and Gianni. I hadn’t known my nonno. I was always too young to really understand the things my mother would tell me about him, and my nonna was silent about it. The only time she had said anything was to tell me how much she missed him.
His hair was pushed back in the picture, slick with oil. My nonna was wearing a flared dress, with a pattern of daisies all over the fabric. Her hair was big and curled in that fifties way that always made me laugh. She said she’d never felt so beautiful, except in that picture. I couldn’t deny that she’d been right—she was beautiful. There was a youthful vibrance to her face that emanated from the black and white photo. It looked vintage, sure, but there was a timelessness to her fashion choices and the high cheekbones of her face. I let out a deep breath and wondered what Natalia thought of our memories of nonna. She never spoke of it much, and I was never around enough to reminisce with her.
That was, of course, until I heard Alessandra’s voice.
Like some kind of typhoon, her voice had caused the memories to resurface. I’d pushed them away so far that I’d almost forgotten them completely. The sweetness that my nonna had shown us had been wiped away from us, all through the abuse that we’d endured at our father’s hands. Natalia had been spared the physical abuse, but my father had destroyed her through emotional abuse. Each tactic he used against me and my siblings almost seemed planned. I grimaced at the thought and placed the photo back on the white dresser.
I glanced over to my bed and decided to take a nap. I didn’t want to think anymore. I just wanted to pass into the restlessness of slumber. It was where I could finally be at ease. The Bonifacios showing up in our house had caused me more stress than I ever thought would happen. It had turned our world upside down and was giving us all cause for concern. It didn’t help that the Bonifacio girls had caused all of us to rethink the way our father did things.
I woke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside. There was a chill to my room that wasn’t usually there, and I shifted in bed as a shiver ran over my skin. I glanced around the room as I reached for my phone on the end table next to the bed. I tapped the screen and sighed. It was nine in the morning. Had I slept that long?
As though the world had been restarted, the sounds of birds calling into the distance reappeared, and I was left standing in the doorway, wondering if our encounter was even real. It was hard to shift my dreams from reality at times. I found my days to be spent with that warmth of nostalgia that I’d lost so long ago.
I’d tossed and turned for over sixteen hours. I thought it would be a two-hour nap, but it seemed as though my body had other ideas. The weight of my regret and frustration with how things were being handled was taking its toll on my body. I cared about my physical health. My running had always been an outlet, but ever since I’d started, it had given me the vigor I’d wanted to take care of my body. I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I used to.
I swept my legs over the side of the massive bed and wondered just how uncomfortable that small cot in the corner of Alessandra’s room must’ve been. I could picture her shivering herself to sleep beneath the ratty, thin blankets and tossing and turning until she managed to find a semi-comfortable spot. I frowned at the thought. I didn’t want her to have to deal with it, but there was nothing I could do to help her.
Besides, she was a Bonifacio.
