“Pictures of a wedding,” Rocco repeated, as if Harry had been invited to a royal wedding and he’d turned it down to play a game in the dirt.
Harry grinned at me. “You picked a winner or a mynah bird.” He laughed at his own joke.
I knew this was a bad idea, but at that moment, it seemed like the most dangerous idea in the world. My husband was going to hurt this man. I could feel it. Rocco was keeping the bloodthirstylion behind the gate, but I wasn’t sure for how long. He was in complete control of himself, which was scarier than a wild animal scenting blood, then plotting to run a water buffalo down and stick his claws in its ass cheeks to take it down to the dirt.
Rocco was being calm, collected, but he was plotting, saving all his energy for the burst that would come forward and cause damage.
The door opened wider, and one of my sis—Harry and Gabby’s daughters let the dog out. Harry yelled, and the other daughter came out and grabbed the dog before it got too far. She stopped when she saw me.
“Are we going to have to stay home because of her?” She pointed at me. “You promised us a cotton candy at the park! That’s why we didn’t get an ice cream from the truck!”
“Mom!” The first daughter flew in the other direction, going for her mom, it seemed.
My mom, too, I reminded myself, but she had cut me out of her life, except for occasional phone calls. Even when I was in trouble, I had no one, even though she was in the same country as me. She didn’t want to help me because, as she had said…the girls were too young, and she didn’t want trouble for them. She also didn’t want to disappoint Harry, I was sure of it.
I was the daughter from the man she had a wild, passionate affair with. I wouldn’t have put my head on a chopping board that she didn’t love Harry, but I knew with my entire being, my dad had been her one true love, and he had broken her heart. After that, she wanted safe, stable…the two-car garage and a beagle puppy.
Rocco’s eyes moved to the right when Gabriella Cattaneo Richards came to the door, a hand on her crying daughter’s head. Rocco’s eyes softened for a moment, maybe noticing the similarities between my mom and me, but I knew I looked morelike my paternal side—my dad’s aunt, who had been in love with a Fausti, or maybe two.
“Aria,” my mom breathed. “What are you doing here? You didn’t call?—”
No greeting, no big hug, only…apparent disappointment.
“My wife came at my insistence. I am Rocco Fausti, Aria’s husband.”
“I’m her mom?—”
“I know who you are,” my husband said, and his tone was ice cold. These men never interrupted women out of respect, and that told me how little of it he had for Gabriella Cattaneo Richards. “You might title your own self that high honor, but your actions speak otherwise.”
“Hold up a minute, pal. You don’t call. You show up unannounced atourdoor. And you disrespectmywife?”
“I want to go to the park!” one of the daughters yelled.
“Me too!” The other one crossed her arms. “You promised us sweets, mom! Can’t she come back? Or go home?”
“I think that’s the best idea of the night.” Harry looked at my mom. “Grab my stuff, honey, we’re leaving.”
My mom had the nerve to look embarrassed. “Next time, call me, Ari. You know how busy we are—Oh my God! Harry!”
Rocco had taken Harry by throat and slammed him against the house. The girls started screaming after my mom did, the dog was running in circles barking, and all I could do was stand there. I knew it was coming, but I was sort of in shock too. How fast it had happened. How my husband’s hand shot out faster than the water buffalo could ever expect.
“Tell him to let him go!” my mom yelled at me. “He’s going to kill him! Harry’s triglycerides are high!”
My husband had Harry in a vise grip, and Harry could do nothing but gurgle and slap at my husband’s massive hands.
Rocco rolled his lips in, but when he spoke, he spoke to my mom. “You have treated my heart with malice, leaving her out in this dangerous world alone, allowing her grandparents to raise her in your place. I am forever in their debt, even if they are not here to see the unconditional love and respect she will come to know as my wife. Perhaps they will feel it. This is how strong my love is for my wife. It was made in heaven; it will reach again.
“However, one day, I will stake my name on it, when you are in a cold and lonely place, your two spoiled daughters only concerned with their own lives, and Harry has gone on from his high triglycerides, you will feel my wife’s absence in your life—and you will regret it. She is the sun, she is warmth, she is love, which you will be void of.” He turned back to Harry, and it seemed like he was applying more pressure, and Harry was not flailing as much as he was before.
Bad sign.
In the distance, as if I had been in a tunnel with my husband’s words, and the rest of the world was returning, I could hear my mom crying, her daughters crying, and I swallowed hard as I took a step toward my husband, laying a hand on his arm.
“Let him go, my husband,” I whispered in Italian. “Let him go.”
Rocco released Harry at once, and Harry fell to the ground. He was breathing, but his lips were blue. My mom was screaming Harry’s name while also begging the emergency operator to send help. “Please hurry! Please! He’s in danger of losing his life!”
Rocco’s head whipped in her direction at that, and he said, “You did not care about my heart losing her life—your own flesh and blood, your own precious daughter.”
