“See that it doesn’t.”
I’m speechless as it seems the roles are reversed, and that Davide, the guard, is now in charge of my father.
“You can lower your gun.” My father tries to regain the upper hand.
Davide doesn’t move for a moment, then he flips the safety on and lowers it. My father straightens his rumpled suit, flashes me a seething look, then leaves the kitchen. As soon as he’s gone, my mom crumples like a crushed flower. I catch her as she sobs, and Davide helps me get her to a chair at the kitchen table.
“I’ll get Angela to clean this up,” Davide says, referring to one of the staff.
I shake my head, crouching in front of my mom. “I’ll do it.”
Mom sniffs and says through her tears, “It’s not appropriate or becoming for you to clean it up.”
I roll my eyes and turn to Davide.
“What can I do?” he asks.
“Please put the kettle on. I’ll make some tea.” Standing, I walk over to him and give him a hug. “Thank you.” He blushes and looks uncomfortable when I pull away. “And please tell Tommaso I said thank you, too.”
The mention of Tommaso makes him step back from me, and he nods. “Of course.”
He puts the kettle on, then leaves. And I’m left to pick up the pieces of what had been a beautiful afternoon while mourning the family I had and wondering what exactly my future is going to look like.
I don’t fool myself thinking that my father will behave. If anything, he’ll be smarter to make sure no one’s around the next time he loses it.
As I look at my tearful mother sitting with her arms wrapped around her middle, my stomach swirls with dread because I’m not sure it will be me who pays the price when he does.
Chapter 9
Tommaso
Mymovementsareslowand controlled as I put the phone down after Davide called to report what happened with Gina.
I may look calm and in control, but inside, I’m a mass of violent,unhingedwrath. And plotting all the ways I will make Franco Caruso pay.
Sure, he never touched Gina or her mother, but if Davide hadn’t gotten there when he had, it would’ve been a very different story. He hadn’t touched herthistime. But there would be another time soon when Caruso lost his temper and went after Gina again. I was damn sure of it.
She wasn’t safe there.
Especially since, after my meetings the past few days with Emanuele and his dancing around his presence here—hislingeredpresence here—I’m sure they’re planning something. And if it is to strike at me, then Gina might be used as a pawn.
I know my reaction to her that first evening hadn’t gone unnoticed. In my meetings with Emanuele, it’s difficult to keep my Don mask in place, so no one knows what I’m plotting.
I have a plan, but I need more time. And I need Gina to be willing to go along with it.
No, you don’t.
Well, truthfully, I don’t. I’m a morally gray man by societal standards, and I can most certainly lean into that if needed. But my preference is for Gina to want what I’ll be proposing to her.
I’ll only pull out all the stops and implement my underhanded plan if it’s absolutely necessary to get what I want. What I need. And that’s her.
Il mio sole.
My sun.
She’ll be my entire reason for being soon.
It’s astonishing how fast this has progressed. I’ve never believed in love at first sight or love within days. I’m a logical man, careful not to let emotions rule my decisions. Yet here I am, never having been in love, but somehow knowing this is what is consuming me, and it’s absolutely the thing driving the decisions I’m making.
