A crooked smile tugs at the corner of Dan’s mouth. “He’ll probably hate me even more after our meeting.”
My heart drops like a stone. “Why? You won’t hurt him,will you?” Elio and I have had our differences, but I love my brother.
“Because I have a load of dirt on him and his operations,” he says too casually, as if we’re just talking about the weather. “And I’m unarmed. My only ammunition is the USB stick in my pocket. I may rough him up a little, but I won’t kill him.” His grin widens and I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
Hairs prickle on my skin. “Dan, you wouldn’t…” My voice falters. “He’s all Mamma has left here. He’s my brother.”
“It’s just leverage.” He says it like that’s meant to reassure me, but it doesn’t. “Are you ready?”
I’ll never be ready, but I force a deep breath, wrap my fingers around the door handle, and pull it down. As we step into the hall, I squeeze Dan’s hand tight, like a lifeline in the storm. I remind myself this isn’t the past. History can’t repeat itself. He’s here with me. He stayed till morning.
My chest tightens even more when Angelos appears in his pyjamas, climbing the grand staircase. He freezes at the sight of us, eyes narrowing, lips curling in disgust at the way I’m holding Dan’s hand.
“What are you doing here?” Angelos snaps, his narrowed eyes focusing on Dan.
My heart aches. The boy who used to reach for my hand now looks at me like I’ve betrayed him. I push the pain aside, wondering how we’re going to tell him the truth when he’s been poisoned against his true father. Guilt gnaws at my insides. It’s all my fault. I never should have sent him those stupid letters, pretending they were from Magnus, but I never wanted him to feel unloved like I did. I should’ve realised a mother’s love was enough, but I never felt enough for him.
“Dan’s here to see Uncle Elio,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Have you seen him this morning?”
“He’s having breakfast with Nonna,” Angelos replies, his lips still tight.
“Did you find a charger for your Switch?” I ask, desperate for a moment of normality.
“Bruno gave me one.” Angelos walks back down the stairs with us, like he doesn’t want to miss anything.
“Angelos, will you wait in your room? Dan and I need to speak with Uncle Elio.”
Dan stays silent, which is just as well. He doesn’t need to pour oil on this fire. I focus on my boy, on my racing heart, on keeping it together as he huffs and climbs back up the staircase to his bedroom.
As we approach the heavy wooden doors of the dining room, I hesitate, my palm slick against the handle. Dan squeezes my hand and nods reassuringly, and I inhale and push the door open.
Cutlery clatters against the plate. Elio rises from the head of the table like a storm brewing over dark seas. His chair scrapes back with a screech that sets my nerves even more on edge. Mamma sits beside him in her wheelchair, frail but defiant.
“What’s he doing here?” Elio’s voice is low and controlled, but full of bitterness.
“He’s with me,” I say quickly, stepping into the room before Dan can speak.
“I’m unarmed. I need to talk to you.” Dan lifts his hands in surrender, but Elio’s already drawing his gun.
“You can go to hell,” my brother spits, pointing the gun at Dan. “Rose, step aside.”
Mamma’s frail hand slams against the table. “Elio! Put your gun away. Listen to what he has to say.”
“He killed Father,” Elio growls, finger tightening on the trigger. “Why would you want to hear what he has to say?”
“Because your father was a tyrant,” Mamma answers calmly.
My breath catches in my throat. Old wounds fester in my mind, but now is not the time to think about Papa.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Elio ignores Mamma’s pleas and holds the gun steady.
My heart twists. I open my mouth to speak, but Dan steps in, his voice even and steady.
“You need better security,” he says. His calm rattles me more than my brother’s fury.
“I let him in. He’s with me.” I shield Dan with my body, afraid if I move an inch, Elio will shoot.
Elio’s glare cuts into me like a blade. “I should’ve known. This isn’t the first time you’ve let him into our family home, Rose. When are you going to learn?”
