Page 8 of Blood & Heartache

Chapter 4

Letting myself out of the conference room, I rolled my way to the elevator I hadn’t known was installed in my absence. It was hidden away in the back of the house, and you needed to use your handprint to make it work since it took you up to the third floor. I wondered if it had been added knowing that Daddy was sick and might eventually be unable to walk up the stairs. Either way, it was a godsend since it meant I could get to my bedroom without asking someone to help me up the stairs.

The doors opened on the third floor, and I rolled out but paused to look to my left, where I could see the double doors that led to Daddy’s side of the house. Our halves were mirrored replicas of each other, and he’d put so much effort into making my wing perfect for my homecoming. The last time I’d been in those rooms, it was me confronting him about Casimira and their arrangement, plus the horrible family dinner we’d had the night before. At the end of the conversation, we’d managed a truce, but I hadn’t forgiven him for lying to me. Now I wish I could take back the things I said to him, even if they were true and how I felt. I knew he didn’t hold it against me. His letter proved he knew I’d be hurt and asked for my forgiveness. It seems we both had things to feel sorry for.

Rolling to my rooms, I opened the door, putting me in my living room or common space, whatever you want to call it. I didn’t stop there, though, and continued to the door that led to my office. The USB drive was burning a hole in my pocket, and I wanted to know what the hell Daddy had been talking about. What challenges he referred to? There was only one way to find out, and yet I was terrified to discover what other secrets had been kept from me. A person can only take so many hits, but this was clearly something important enough he’d put so much effort into hiding it away where only I could find it. Then there was the lock’s combination—the date I stopped writing to him for a year—depriving him of the only contact he had with me. It clearly hurt him as much as it had me for us both to remember.

Booting up my laptop, I transferred myself from the wheelchair to my desk chair which was far more comfortable. Once everything was up and running, I inserted the memory stick and waited for the screen to pop up and give me access. What I wasn’t ready for was the sheer amount of information tucked away on this drive. The list of folders seemed to go on forever, each listed and named in the code we used. Dates, names, places, pictures, videos, and more were what I absorbed at first glance. This was going to be so much more than I anticipated.

What have you gotten me into, Daddy?

Then a folder caught my eye named Start Here. Clicking on the folder, it opened to a video file, making me hesitate. Did I really want to open a video that could have my father waiting to speak to me on it? Taking a deep breath, I double-clicked, and the video screen popped up. What I wasn’t expecting was to see my father standing at the altar with two women.

The church looked old, not rundown kind of old, but more historic with stone walls, stained-glass windows, and golden candelabras with candles flickering in whatever draft was happening. A priest stood before them, and while I couldn’t hear what he was saying, it was obvious he was doing a marriage ceremony. The odd thing was none of them were in wedding attire. It was almost like they’d walked in off the street and decided to do this. Daddy was in a suit, but he always wore those. On the other hand, Mother was in a simple but elegant navy dress, and Casimira was in a soft gray pants suit. All of them kneeled and allowed the priest to give them communion, then they stood, exchanged rings between the three of them, kissed, then hugged each other tightly.

How on earth did Daddy get a priest to marry the three of them in a church, no less? It didn’t look like a church I’d seen around here. I’d looked at a ton of them before deciding which would be the best to host the visitation for Daddy. Then the man holding the camera spoke—in Italian.

“Colmazio, we need to go. We can’t linger here. If the three of you want to make it out of here alive, you need to get to the plane now,” he ordered.

The voice was male and sounded older, but other than that, I couldn’t say I recognized anything about it. Daddy took both women’s hands and led them down the aisle to the man filming with a giant grin on his face.

“One moment, Demaso. I just want to say one thing before we send this off,” Daddy commented before turning his attention to the camera. “Frediano, I know going behind your back to get married means Natalina will be disowned, and I’ll be cut off from the security of the founding families, but she’s everything to me. Know that I’ll love and cherish your daughter to the end of my days, and any child she bears will be the heir to my legacy. Between the three of us, we’ve agreed that, on paper, Natalina will be my legal wife in the eyes of the government. You won’t understand our love or how I couldn’t pick between them, but as you’ve witnessed in the eyes of God, we are one. My hope is one day you’ll see reason and choose to forgive us. Until that time, I’ll continue to make my own empire in Mansara. God’s blessing upon you, Frediano, and the other leaders of the motherland.” After that sentiment, the video file ended, and I was left reeling.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?” I asked the computer, hoping it would tell me where to look next.

When it didn’t answer, I returned to the folder where the video was and found another document. Opening it, I found a marriage license for Colmazio Caprioni and Natalina Raffa. That date showed they’d been married for two years before I was born then my mother died five years later. The three of them only got to be a family for seven short years before everything fell apart. That reality hit me hard in the chest—no wonder Casimira was so devastated right now. She’s lost a woman she loved, and now the man who was her only connection to remembering Mother that way was gone. Nothing was left of that part of her life, and she’d had to keep it a secret since the day they said I do.

Why save this, though? What was so important to have to keep a copy and lock it away for me to find?

Dropping my head into my hands, I groaned, feeling so lost with all this, and that was a feeling I didn’t often have. Realistically, I knew it was because so much had happened in the past few days, and I was not anywhere near my normal state of mind. Struggling with the pain in my leg would be one thing but adding the agony of knowing I couldn’t just head down the hall and ask Daddy what was going on had me so lost. I’d been saved from the struggle of experiencing this with my mother since I was so young. For me, I’ve only remembered my life without her. Sometimes I’d have dreams and remember a woman holding me in her arms singing me songs, then would kiss me goodnight, whispering that one phrase—hold me like the moon holds the night.

I wonder if that’s why they picked it to be my trigger phrase? Could it be that my mind knew the person who used to whisper that to me as I drifted off to sleep was when I felt the safest? Fuck, my life was a shit show from beginning to end, wasn’t it?

“Your mother was the daughter of Frediano Raffa? I had no idea you were so closely tied to the founding families back in Italy,” Atticus commented.

Snapping my head up, I twisted to look up at him as he peered over my shoulder at the screen. “What did you just say?”

Taking a moment to shift his glasses back up his nose, he answered me. “Your mother, Natalina Raffa. She’s the only child to Frediano Raffa, one of the leaders of the five founding families of the Cosa Nostra in Italy.”

“Holy shit,” I blurted and went back to the main folder and scanned through the sub-folders. When I found what I was looking for, I opened it and found a folder on each of the founding families—Accardi, De Santis, Leoni, Raffa, and Zuccaro.

I pulled up the one on Raffa and found a genealogy chart that listed the family for ten generations back and ended with my name. “Oh. My. God.”

“Astin… you’re the heir to the Raffa name as well as the Caprioni legacy,” Atticus whispered in awe. “There’s not even a first cousin to contest the claim. The only other person who could try looks to be a third cousin on the side of a wife who married into the name. You’re the daughter of a woman who was the last full-blooded Raffa.”

Slumping back in my chair, I ran a hand through my hair. “Holy fuck, how could Daddy not have told me any of this?” Then I sat up again as what he said in the wedding video made sense. “Hold on, that means he never disowned my mother or cut Daddy off from the families. Oh God, and I have to call them all sooner rather than later to introduce myself as the new head of the Caprioni Family.”

“I believe it might be wise to gather more information before making that phone call. It seems there is far more happening behind the scenes than any of us understood,” Atticus pointed out.

Rubbing my temple, I groaned again, hating that more was being added to my plate by the second. “Was there something you needed, Atty?” I asked, realizing how odd it was for him to seek me out.

“No, there is nothing I need at the moment, but it has been suggested to me that as I have the role of best friend, I should come to check on you,” he explained. “What I’m supposed to do at this moment I’m not certain of, so I shall simply ask you if there is anything you need? Then again, when people ask me that, I never know what to ask them to do. Is there a rule for that?”

The balm to my soul that is Atticus had a smile tugging at my lips as I turned my chair to get a better look at him. “I don’t think there is a rule per se, but if you’re willing, I could use some company. Would you like to watch a movie or TV show with me?”

Atticus blinked at me in surprise, making him speechless for a moment. “You want my company?”

“Yes, your company, Atty. What I need right now is a friend who can sit with me and isn’t going to boss me around, try to fix things, or smother me because they’re worried. So what do you say? Ready to put your best-friend status to the test?” I teased.