"Yeah, next time I'll tell them to try shooting the other side; my liver's getting tired of being bothered." I attempt a smile, but his expression remains stone-cold.
I take the opportunity to study him from head to toe, trying to piece together this puzzle in my mind.
"I came to talk about Roxanne," I finally say.
"About Roxy." I don’t miss how his attention is now fully mine.
I should have realized that night I first met her that something was off, but the image of her mother in those overalls and Roxanne herself—who seemed to have nothing to do with this world—threw me off track.
Because that night, we were at Valentino Agosti's house. Marco Agosti's brother. I never bothered analyzing who the men were that my mother gathered information from, but I know for certain that night my mother sat in Valentino's lap until he took her upstairs to a bedroom.
When we left, Marzena had that satisfied look she always wore when her schemes paid off.
But I couldn't find the thread connecting Roxanne's mother to the Italian mafia until Vasili started asking questions in Sicily. Specifically in Naples, where Marco's from.
"How long have you known you're Roxanne's father?" I ask, watching shock register on his face.
Not shock at just finding out, surprise that I know this detail.
Within seconds he masks his features, but it's too late. I saw what I needed to see.
"Many years," he answers. "How the hell do you know?"
"Years ago, at one of your brother's parties, my mother dragged me along. There was a woman there with Roxanne."
His eyes narrow, something like disbelief creeping into his gaze.
"What?"
"You didn't know Roxanne's mother was at that party?"
"No, hell, I never even thought..."
He collapses into one of the armchairs, hands on his knees.
"I met Elena in Italy when I was seventeen. My family already had my wedding planned to my son's mother, but..."
"You fell in love," I finish for him.
"I couldn't help but fall in love. That woman made the Earth orbit around her. We spent a few months together, months where I knew we were just delaying the inevitable because when I turned eighteen, they set an official wedding date. The day I said 'I do,' she vanished from my life."
Without meaning to, my blood starts to boil. Because I know how arranged marriages work, especially with Italians. It's not something you choose, not something you negotiate, but still, he let her go.
If that woman meant so much to him, how the hell did he let her walk away? Why didn't he take on the entire Italian mafia for her?
"A few years later, she contacted me out of the blue. She wanted to meet, so I agreed. By then she'd gotten married, and that's when she told me about Roxy. That she was mine. But I was still part of a world Elena didn't want our daughter mixed up in, so I gave her a location and a date. If she decided to be with me, all she had to do was be there."
And I already know Elena never made it to that meeting. Because The Bloody Dahlia got to her first. And with her death, my little sun stopped shining.
I see the haunted look in his eyes, and I'm glad it's there. He was a coward, chose the easy path instead of fighting. I don't have many certainties in this life, but I know I couldn't let Roxanne run from me. I want to believe the only act of kindness I've done was not searching for her all these years. But from the moment the Universe put her back in my path, I knew that no matter how much she struggled, no matter how much she resisted, I'd convince her to be mine.
"So you know what happened to Roxanne's mother?" I ask.
He just nods slightly.
"I tried to find the bastard. I tried bribing people in the police, but once his killings stopped, the investigation went cold. Witnesses couldn't remember exactly what they'd seen and what they hadn't, and Roxy, being so young, couldn't recall anything concrete."
His words come out slow, lifeless, and again, his resignation infuriates me.
