My father pushed back, causing Romeo to collapse on the floor onto his knees. I stared, unable to move. The expression on my father’s face was sickening. He was pleased with seeing his son fall to the ground. He enjoyed the power that came from having his own heir kneel before him, even if it was in such a moment.
“Know your place. They’re staying until we get things settled,” my father said, a grin forming upon his lips. “Savio, take your brother and help him onto a pew. And Romeo,” he paused for effect, still grinning, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay still.”
Our father walked away, brushing past Romeo as though he were a tissue on the ground. I felt sick to my stomach as I lifted Romeo, helping him to his feet and letting him use me as a pillar. He was silent, his eyes closing and opening slowly. Natalia was arriving with the knife, and I knew that his screams would echo out again.
My father didn’t seem too set on everyone staying. Looking around, I saw that some people were still filtering out. I gently let Romeo down onto one of the pews and waited for Natalia to come around with the knife.
I was disgusted with what I’d just seen. It was clear that my father had simply wanted to win the argument. Whether the people actually stayed wouldn’t be an issue to him. He’d wanted to maintain his image in front of everyone and show them how in line we were with his vision of things. The wedding was at a loss, and still, my father wouldn’t accept it.
My father had left the area completely as though he couldn’t handle what had happened. I hated that he’d left my brother like that and wouldn’t relent. I wanted to see my father care about anyone other than himself. It disgusted me that his self-image was more important than his son—my brother—who was bleeding out. I hoped that he was embarrassed by his choices and by his reaction to Gianni’s supposed death. He’d destroyed a family and come out on top. But at what price?
It was clear his image was tarnished.
I turned to see Natalia walking toward us with a knife. The edges were hot, glowing red along the silver blade. She held it out in front of her, making sure that it was nowhere close to her dress. I winced at the thought of Romeo having to go through with the pain without any medication. I hoped he’d survive it and stay awake. He had to.
He was barely staying conscious, but I was proud of him. I could see the desperation in his eyes, flickering like a slow-burning flame. He was reluctant to give in, and I respected him for it. I was proud of him for going against our father in front of the fleeing crowd and even leaping toward him like he did.
I was proud, but that didn’t do us any good then. I had to make sure that he was okay. I had, after all, not done what my father had asked me to do. I hadn’t seen Gianni in the crowd. I should have been able to stop what happened, but I hadn’t.
It felt as though it was my fault.
