“How do you know I haven’t given any copies of my identification to anyone?”
“My uncle mentioned in passing that you could be making a lot more than you do at the shelter, if you would just get copies of your legal identification. He also mentioned that he pays you in cash because you don’t want anything to be able to leave a traceof you anywhere. I knew the day I met you, you were hiding from someone, doing everything in your power to keep yourself and your boys alive.”
“Then you should understand anything I might have to offer.”
“And you should understand that I don’t care what or who is chasing you. You will not face them. I will.”
“You have no idea what you’re promising.”
“I do. You just don’t understand yet, that I can back it up.”
“My name is not Capelli. It’s…”
Ronan held up a finger to stop her, his gaze on something behind her.
Their waiter had paused halfway across the dining room from them, a tray balanced on his shoulder, as he waited to catch Ronan’s eye. He inclined his head and raised his eyebrows — his way of asking if it was okay to bring their food.
Ronan nodded at him.
The waiter hurried over, quickly placed their plates in front of them, along with steak sauce, ketchup, and a small bowl with melted butter and garlic in it, and brought them each a fresh glass of tea. “Some people like to spoon a little butter and garlic over their steaks. Others like steak sauce or ketchup. I brought it all. Is everything else okay? Do you need anything else at all?”
Ronan looked at Giada, who shook her head.
“No, thank you. We’re good.”
“I’m going to keep an eye on you from a distance. If you need something, just signal to me. I don’t want to interrupt your conversation.”
“Thank you,” Ronan said, smiling at the man. As soon as he was out of earshot, Ronan focused on Giada again. “Okay, so, your last name isn’t Capelli. What is it?”
“It’s DiCaviatoppi.”
Ronan’s brow creased as he tried to figure out where he knew the name from.
“The DiCaviatoppi crime family?” she asked.
“Okay,” Ronan said, his mind flooding with all the images and news stories he’d heard.
“I was traded in marriage to the DiCaviatoppi’s to clear a debt my father owed them. I was allowed to finish school, and get my degree, but even then I had to travel with two body guards at all times. I had no friends. No one to talk to. No one for anything at all, except the son, the heir apparent that I would be married to the moment I turned seventeen. I graduated from high school at 18, and went straight to college. The moment I graduated from college, I was pregnant, and as soon as I recovered from that birth, I was pregnant again.”
“Did you want to be pregnant?”
She shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I would die for my babies. But it was decided by my father-in-law that the best way to keep an educated woman under control was to keep her pregnant. Besides, if they were boys, they’d be heirs to the family business. If they were girls, they’d be bargaining pins for gaining access to other families as powerful as they are.”
“Jesus, Giada.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. I did what I had to do. My father wasn’t killed at the time, though I’m sure he is long dead now. I have two beautiful, sweet sons, and I did get an education. My father-in-law finally died, and during the huge, overblown services, and weeks of mourning — I ran. I took my boys and only what I could carry in my purse, and I ran. I left all electronics, all credit cards, every bit of jewelry, everything that was worth anything at all materialistically was left behind. All I took was a little cash that I’d managed to save from the allowance I was given.”
“Allowance?” Ronan half-growled.
“My father-in-law also believed that if you give a woman too much money at once, you give her options.”
“I’m surprised they even allowed you to finish school.”
“I was sixteen when I was given to them. They let me graduate high-school. They allowed me to go to a four year college, then that was it. I was only to be a wife and follow directions after that point. My husband seemed fair enough in the beginning. I didn’t ask for anything. I simply did what I was told and didn’t complain. But after I had my first child and realized he was in danger just because he existed and dared to compete with my husband for my attention, I knew I had a whole new set of challenges. But then he started to grow and became a toddler, and it got worse. Every little thing he did irritated my husband. I spent every moment of every day and night keeping him out of sight and quiet so he didn’t draw attention to himself to protect him from his own father. To make matters worse, my father-in-law would come to visit and adored Leo. He’d spend hours playing with him and laughing. But the moment he left, my husband would fly into a rage. He didn’t want to have to compete with Leo for his father’s attentions either. And then I got pregnant again. My father-in-law was thrilled. My husband was irate. Not long after I had Matteo, my father-in-law died. It was when the entire house and the whole of the family — blood and not, was distracted and mourning that I took the opportunity to leave and I’ve been running ever since. Keeping our heads down, not drawing attention to ourselves. I thought for a while that my own family might care enough to want to help us, but it didn’t take long to figure out that no one I’m actually related to wanted anything to do with me because I’d run from the DiCaviatoppi's.
I was alone. I was living in a homeless encampment, in a tent with my boys when I met Daniel looking for his own son. He came back to me a few weeks later and offered me a place tomake a life and the opportunity to help run the shelter. I refused. I couldn’t take a chance on being located. If my husband finds me, he might kill me, but I’m certain he’d kill my babies first so I’d have to watch. I didn’t tell Daniel exactly why I couldn’t accept his offer, but he knew there was something I was hiding from. He promised that there would never be a paper trail, and I’d never be linked to the shelter in any way. It was cold. We were hungry. We were scared. I took the chance. But even now I lie awake in our little home, listening to every sound, every single rustle of every leaf, and I pray for the morning to come so I won’t be alone in the darkness with no one to help me protect my babies.”
Chapter 13
