“Dario. Raoul,” he says calmly, stopping to stand in front of the sofa where I’m seated. I don’t glance over to my younger brother, but I sensed that he’s stopped nearby. Rage bristles from him in waves.
“What do you want, Ricci,” I ask coolly. And then I chuckle. “Or should I be calling you something else? Mateo Ricci…is that even your name?”
Something flickers in his eyes, but his expression remains neutral.
“That’s my name,” he replies. “My real name.” He glances down. “Though in my regular world, I go by Matt Richards.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And now why would that be?” Dammit, I wish I didn’t want to know this fucker’s story.
“My mother changed it,” he says. “Ourmother.”
I feel everything within me grow hard. Cold. “You’re still sticking to that, are you?” I take another sip of my whiskey. At my side, Raoul clenches his hands into fists. No doubt waiting for me to give him the order to take the guy out.
“Yes,” Mateo says. “Because it’s the truth.”
“Pretty big stretch, if you ask me,” I say. “Prove it.”
When he reaches into his suit pocket, Raoul lunges with a speed that surprises even me. He’s on the other man and the pair hit the floor with enough force for me to feel the vibration in my seat.
“Raoul! Hold off!” I snap. If Mateo had been reaching for a piece, I would have spotted the bulk of it beneath the line of his jacket. There’s a pause before Raoul reluctantly rises. Aside from tousled hair, he’s unharmed. Mateo had done nothing to defend himself. Which is a sign of his self-control – I’ve seen these two go at it on the mat. They’re fairly evenly matched, but there’s never been a time when Raoul bested him so easily.
When my younger brother turns back to me, his expressions leaves me wondering if he’s taken as much strain over this as I have. And why wouldn’t he? We’ve been as close as brothers, the three of us. Even though Raoul and I never grew up together, I’d bonded with him almost as soon as I’d learned of his existence. Two young men, desperate for kinship without hate.
And now Mateo is saying he shares a similar bond. When I look back at him, he’s holding a plain brown envelope.
“Look inside,” he says, extending a hand to me. I slide open the flap and extract the sheet of paper inside. A simple document bearing the emblem of a laboratory group. I run an eye down columns of numbers and letters until I reach the final line at the end. The words interpreting the numerous figures and claiming that there’s a high probability of a shared maternal line.
I stare at it for a second, the look back at Mateo. He’s back on his feet, adopting the same posture that’s become so familiar to me after all these years. Silent. Unmoving.
“So, explain this,” I say. Raoul is reaching for the page, as if he doesn’t believe I could have read it correctly. Mateo begins speaking.
“Our mother had me before you were born,” he says. “Against the wishes of her family.” I sip my whiskey waiting for him to continue. The movement betrays a slight shake in my hand. “Two families – the Caraldis and the Riccis. A marriage was planned when our parents were just children. But Mama…” He trails off. “Mama wasn’t one who liked to be told what to do.”
I weigh these words up for a moment. My memories of my mother have faded so much all I recall is a gentle presence.
“Go on,” I urge him. I need to know more.
“After school, she managed to delay the wedding. Said she wanted an education. Her mother convinced her father to allow it. They were old school, but our grandmother wanted her child to have achievements. While she was at college, she met my father.”
“I’m guessing that didn’t turn out well,” I remark. I make a conscious effort to keep my hand steady when I take my next sip.
“They ran,” he says. It seems that the words don’t come easy. “When they found out she was pregnant, they packed their things and left Vegas. Stayed on the moving, stopping only long enough for Mama to have me. It was the mistake that brought an end to their journey. ‘Ricci’…” He stops talking. When he starts again, his voice is husky. “It was the name on my birth certificate. And the families got wind of it. Before Mama was out of the hospital, they’d found my father.”
I don’t say anything when he stops talking again. I know what that must have meant. My family’s callousness has taught me how little value human life has when it doesn’t fit into the plans. A child born out of wedlock. To a woman who had been promised to another family. I’m surprised Mateo survived either. And his story is beginning to ring true.
“Mama was taken home. She refused to leave without me. And my grandmother couldn’t bear to let them get rid of me too. Her first grandson, even though I was a bastard.”
I sense Raoul shift beside me. I glance up at him. There’s a tic in his jaw that speaks volumes. The bastard son.
“I was sent to a cousin to be raised,” Mateo goes on. “And the wedding was arranged as planned.”
“But how—?” Raoul begins. He shakes his head. “She left her child? Your mother?”
My baby brother’s mother had doted on him. My father’s mistress had showered the only man in her life with love. But I didn’t grow up as he did. I’ve always believed that a mother could walk out on her child. Dani’s mother had only reinforced this for me. It’s only been since Mateo’s revelation that I’ve allowed myself to believe things could be different.
“She had no choice,” Mateo says stoically. “She visited. Came to see me whenever she could. I was a secret. If the Caraldis had ever found out, I’d have been killed as surely as my father had.”
I don’t deny it. It’s true. My family are animals. Bestial in their hunger for power and control.
