Whoever told her had to be in the life. I wondered if she knew or cared whether that person was connected, because she clearly resented my involvement. She was looking at me like I pushed the elderly in front of moving vehicles for fun. Alessia was the most complex, confusing woman I had ever met. Each word out of her mouth was more confusing than the last, and like a buffoon, I couldn’t get enough.
“What I do for a living has nothing to do with you and me.”
“So, it’s true?” A glimmer of hope fizzled out in her eyes. She had hoped I’d deny her allegations. I hadn’t denied them, but I also wasn’t going to admit anything—another lesson I’d learned early on.
“I’m just an ordinary man, no different than the men inyour family or anyone else. I’m a capitalist. I pursue lucrative business opportunities when they arise. I am the same man today as I was last week when those pretty eyes gazed at me like I hung the moon, begging me to kiss you.”
“But you hurt people and break the law. I can’t just ignore that—it changes things.”
“You seem to have a very pretty picture painted of the world around you. We aren’t so far off our less-civilized ancestors. This life is cutthroat—whether it’s business opportunities, relationships, or anything in between. You think politicians and the wealthy play by the rules? That’s a joke. They’re more corrupt than the thugs on the street. I loan people money, just like any other banker. People don’t have to accept my terms. They want a lower rate, go to a credit union—I’m not forcing anyone into anything. The law says, because I’m willing to take a risky bet and lend money to someone with shit credit, I’m a criminal. If a stockbroker makes a risky trade, would you call him a criminal? No. I’m not a saint, but I’m not the devil you’re making me out to be.”
CHAPTER 17
ALESSIA
His eyes sparkedwith anger as he came off the wall, energized by his speech. What he said was true to an extent. I wasn’t naïve enough to think corruption wasn’t rife in the world, but charging an oppressive interest rate wasn’t the same as breaking kneecaps to get your money. The more I thought about it, the more defensive I became.
“You tell me not to lie, but that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I argued, sitting up straighter as anger infused steel into my spine. “You make it sound like you’re purely a businessman, but I’ve seen you fight and shoot. You can’t honestly tell me those are purely recreational hobbies—youhurtpeople.”
“And what about your boss back there? He didn’t have any qualms about hurting you, and you were innocent. At least the people I associate with know what they sign up for—your asshole boss and those men under the bridge are animals out looking to prey on the easiest victim to cross their paths. For each of them, there’s a dozen more you never know about—they’re everywhere. I don’t go looking to hurt people, but I’m not going to let anyone walk all over me. Yes, I can defend myself, because it’s just as necessary today as it was a thousand years ago.”
His words resounded in a place deep inside me.
I didn’t want him to make sense, but he did. It was easier when things were put in terms of right and wrong, good and bad, but life was far too complicated for such blanket characterizations. The vast majority of humanity fell somewhere on the spectrum—not purely good or bad. There was a small percentage of people who were downright evil, but I’d bet my life Luca wasn’t one of them, but was that enough? Where was the cutoff on the spectrum to delineate allowable versus unacceptable?
I couldn’t meet his eyes as I processed his argument. I was so confused and still reeling from my confrontation with Roger. Was he making sense, or was I just desperate to exonerate him from his wrongdoings?
“You told me your brother was killed,” Luca said, bringing my attention back to him. “Did the police ever find the man responsible?”
I was surprised by his change in subjects, unsure where he was going, but I shook my head slowly.
“He could still be out there, living his life free as a bird. Would prison be adequate punishment, or would you want to see him dead for what he did? That would technically bemurder, but wouldn’t it be justifiable?” He stepped closer as he pled his case, seeing the indecision plain on my features.
He’d gone for the jugular by bringing up Marco.
My big brother was a sensitive topic. He’d been protective and loving, even when surrounded by three obnoxious little sisters. We were all devastated when we lost him. If I ever came across his murderer, I’d kill him myself. It would be no less than he deserved—gunning down an innocent child.
Some things were unforgivable.
Where Marco was concerned, my opinions were rigid and harsh. What did that say about me? That I would kill a man, no questions asked? I’ve heard women say they could never pull a trigger, but I always knew I could, if only for that one purpose. Some people were unredeemable, and a man who kills a child is at the top of that list.
“Yes, it would be justifiable.” My eyes slowly found his, and I knew the questions rife in his piercing gaze were mirrored on my face. His questions were doubtless very different than mine, but they were there, nonetheless.
“We live by a code, and we believe in honor and respect—that doesn’t make us monsters. Laws are there to keep people in line when there is no other system of accountability. We have our own system—I can’t go into the details but know that we are men of honor. I have sworn an oath to my family, and I will abide by that promise until the day I die. Those are the principles I live by, but that doesn’t change the man I am. Until you knew about my family, you had no problems with me. Don’t throw this thing between us away because of that.”
Each word he said pulled me further to his side, and I wasn’t sure if he was convincing or manipulating. I needed time away from his persuasive influence. “I hear what you’resaying, but I need to think about it on my own. I think I should probably go.” I rose from the couch, and Luca came to stand before me.
“Is that what you really want?” he asked quietly, his voice losing its demanding fervor.
Yes. No. “I don’t know what I want—that’s part of the problem. You’re a criminal, but I have these feelings … I’m so confused, and I need to sort it out on my own.”
“I know you want to go, but I can’t let you leave, not after what happened.” He held up his hand to stop my protests. “Let me finish. I have some things I need to go handle. I’ll grab you something to change into—you can hang out here, and when I’m done with work, I’ll take you to dinner. That gives you some time to think, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re here safe.”
How could I argue with that?
With a warm hand splayed on my lower back, he directed me to his bedroom where he picked out an undershirt and boxers for me.
“These may be huge on you, but they’ll work. I want you to relax while I’m gone—everything is going to be okay. You don’t have to make any decisions this second.” He placed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be back in a few hours; make yourself comfortable.” As he pulled away, his thumb swept across my lips, a soft, intimate gesture that made my chest constrict with conflicted longing.
