Silence stretched between the two men.
My hands were balled up into fists, and I didn’t even blink when Violet entered the kitchen, as silent as the three of us. I didn’t look at her, but felt her come in. Her perfume confirmed it.
Finally, Mitch cleared his throat. “You didn’t tell me about my son.”
“Cut to the quick,” Brando said, “so we can heal this.”
“The resentment I feel in my heart, yeah, that has to do with the silence you kept. And you’ve changed. You would have told me before. We would have talked more over the years too. We were like brothers, man.”
There it was. The truth.
It took time for us all to connect as we once had, but Brando had wanted Violet and Mitch to stay in Italy and had made a point of defying his own father to have them there, after Luca ordered them to go. Mitch had left anyway—perhaps out fear that Brando couldn’t protect him and his family.
That left us here.
“I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. I’m not wrong this time, Lewis. It worked out with your son. He’s not marrying Jones. Scarlett had a feeling about it. And she told him. Between us—nothing’s changed. You are my brother. Always have been. You left me, Lewis, even after I told you I was going to battle for you to stay. Even after that and the distance, you were still my brother. But I draw the line with my wife. You want to cut ties with me? You know the fastest route there.”
“Again—”
Brando held a hand up. “Tell me what it’s going to be.”
“For the record, Holden is a good guy. I would have never let him get close to her if he was anything other than that.” Mitch hesitated a second when Brando didn’t respond. “Yeah. All right. It’s done.”
He stuck his hand out and Brando took it. They shook, and some of the tension seemed to escape, but not all of it.
Brando turned his eyes on me, and I knew his strife with Mitch was nothing to him. It was me he was after.
30
Scarlett
It took a while for the kids to calm down after Matteo had woken them up, letting them know he and their father were home. After all the kids were back in their own beds, I spent time in the room Matteo shared with his brothers, watching him sleep. He had only been gone a short period of time, but he seemed to have grown so much.
At the sight of him, all tucked into his bed, a promise to take him to the Hamilton Pool Reserve making him smile, my heart released some of its burden.
Brando stood in the doorway for a while before he turned toward our room. A signal. He wanted me. I didn’t know what awaited me, but sooner or later, I’d have to face the music.
He stood with his back to me when I walked in. One arm stretched out, bracing against the glass, he stared at the water, eyes hard, but swimming in uncontrollable emotion.
“The kids slept with you,” he said.
He knew they did, but I answered him anyway, because I knew this was a bridge to someplace else.
“Yes,” I whispered. “The bed was too big for me. We stayed up late and watched movies.”
“Matteo felt left out.”
There we were.
“We can do it again,” I said, remembering how Matteo had hugged me, refusing to let me go, even after he had closed his eyes and fell asleep.
The fact that he did it without restraint made my heart flutter. Even if Brando would’ve wanted to, he would’ve never done the same with Maggie Beautiful.
I knew who my sons were, what family they belonged to, but that didn’t mean they had to flinch when shown love or feel unworthy of it because of their family name.
“Oh,” I said, realizing. “Is that why you came home?”
He didn’t respond.
