by A. Zavarelli
How long? She asks.
It has to be from the wedding night. That’s the only time it could have happened.
Her face falls, and she reaches her hand across the table briefly to squeeze mine. Things are still not good?
No. I reach for my napkin, folding over the edges to give my fingers something to do. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. He’s miserable. I’m miserable. But mostly, I’m just heartbroken. I don’t even know why he married me. Who wants to live this way?
Abella considers the question for a few moments. Do you think it has something to do with his family?
Yes, I admit. But I don’t know for sure because he doesn’t talk to me about it. He’s never said anything.
I don’t know him that well, Abella says. But we grew up in the same circles. I know he’s never had a girlfriend before you. It seems like he was avoiding any kind of intimate relationship.
I stare at her in confusion. He’s never had a girlfriend before me? I thought you said there were a bunch of women trying to land him.
Yes, trying. She emphasizes the word with her hands. But he never dated any of them. Even in high school, as far as I’m aware. It’s weird. I think what his father did to his mother really screwed with his head.
I lean back against my seat, grateful for the interruption when the waitress delivers our drinks. It gives me a moment to contemplate what Abella just said. It makes sense that Alessio is having difficulty navigating his emotions with me if I’m the first woman in his life. The first real relationship he’s had. He’s my first intimate relationship, too, other than a few innocent dates I had in college before Enzo happened. It doesn’t change anything though, does it? At the end of the day, I’m the one willing to make an effort, and he isn’t. We can’t work through his issues if he’s not willing to let me in.
Look, I’m no expert. Abella leans forward as the waitress leaves. But I think you should try again. I know he’s been a total dick, but men have the emotional maturity of children sometimes. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to fix things.
I shake my head, my temples throbbing at the idea of putting myself out there again. He hurt me, and I know I hurt him, but he hasn’t forgiven me, and I don’t think I can stand one more of his rejections.
If he wants to fix it, then he needs to say so. If he doesn’t, then I guess we’ll both need to figure out a way to move on.
I get it, Abella says. But if you love him, and you want to make this work, what do you have to lose at this point? If he hurts you again, then wash your hands of it. But I think you two could have something special, and real love is rare. So, if that’s what you think this is, grab onto it with both hands and don’t let go.
I offer her a sad smile, agreeing that she has a point. I need time and space to think about it, and one thing I’ve noticed about Abella is that she’s good at talking about everyone else’s problems except for her own.
You never told me when you’re getting married, I say.
She downs the rest of her martini in one long gulp and sets the glass onto the table, her eyes taking on a cloudy hue. “As long as I can avoid it.”
I want to ask her more, but our dinner arrives, and she changes the subject. We eat and laugh and talk for an hour before we finally get around to our Christmas shopping. If there’s one thing I can be grateful for in all of this, it’s that Alessio has given me a true friend in her.
30
Alessio
“Mr. Scarcello, you wanted me to check in when I arrived?”
I glance up from my computer to the man standing in my office doorway. “Yes. Have a seat, Damien.”
He does as I request, and I size him up for what feels like the hundredth time. I’ve spent the last six weeks interviewing guards and trying to find a solid match for my requirements. Not only do I need a candidate who speaks fluent ASL, but I need them to be someone I trust wholeheartedly with Natalia’s safety. It’s important they understand I will fucking slaughter them if they even look at her wrong. As it turns out, it’s a tall order. I managed to find a guard from Germany who’s willing to relocate, but he can’t be here for another month. However, between Natalia and Nino’s schedules, Manuel isn’t able to be with them both at all times, and I need a temporary solution, which is where Damien comes in. IVI sent him over as a courtesy until the new guard arrives, and I’ve spent the last week giving him the rundown repeatedly. He needs to know this job comes with a zero fuck-up policy.
“My wife’s safety is a priority,” I tell him. “I’ll need bi-hourly updates.”
“Yes, sir.” He smirks. “You’ve told me. Several times.”
“I’m aware.” I narrow my eyes at him. “But I’ll reiterate as many times as I deem necessary.”
“Of course, Mr. Scarcello. I understand.”
“Today will be busy.” I check my watch. It’s the day before Christmas Eve, and I’m waiting on word from Angelo regarding the emergency court hearing I requested. “I’ll need you to remain with Natalia at work this morning and then keep watch over the house this afternoon. Manuel needs to leave by noon today to catch his flight back home. He’ll return on Tuesday, after the holiday, and we’ll resume our normal schedule.”
“It won’t be a problem,” Damien assures me.
He looks far too self-assured for my liking. I suspect he thinks his skills are superior to the demands of this position. It rubs me the wrong way, but right now, short of duplicating myself, there aren’t many options at my disposal. With the upcoming holiday, I have to use the resources I have. I may not like this asshole, but he’s vetted by IVI and has references from two other families. I’m also aware that I’ll never be completely comfortable hiring anyone with male anatomy to watch over her, but the IVI security team is a male-dominated industry. I’ll have to get used to the idea eventually, and I only need him around for a month until her other guard arrives.
There isn’t time to consider it further because a moment later, Angelo appears in the doorway. I’m eager to hear what he has to say. Since the discovery of Angelo’s false conviction, he’s been working closely with the Tribunal to ensure the responsible party will pay. He knows the Councilors better than I do on a personal level, and he requested an emergency hearing for today on my behalf. When he nods at me, it’s a quiet indication that he was able to sway them. It’s a welcome reprieve after the hell of the last few weeks.
I slam the computer shut and rise from my chair, my eyes cutting to Natalia’s new guard. “You can wait for my wife in the parlor room, Damien. She’ll be downstairs soon.”
“No problem.”
He leaves quietly, and Angelo arches a brow at me.
“When?” I ask.
“Now.”
“Fucking finally,” I mutter, grabbing my suit jacket from the back of the chair.
“You’re welcome,” Angelo grouses.
“Thank you.” I walk around the desk to join him. “Now, let’s go get this over with.”
He follows me into the hall, and I feel like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’ve been in negotiations with the Tribunal for weeks after they rejected my first proposal. They said I didn’t have sufficient evidence against Enzo to warrant his death. It was bullshit. If he were a lower echelon member, he’d already be dead. Because he’s a Sovereign Son, they want undisputable proof about the new accusations I’ve made against him.
I’ve spent weeks digging and following up on leads. Part of that meant excavating Natalia’s background and linking Enzo to the murders of the people who tried to help her. I created timelines of his visits to New York and the subsequent wire transfers made to the cop who helped him. A cop that later died under mysterious circumstances.
Then there was the issue of Elizabeth, the woman he claimed was Nino’s mother. I’ve been working with Mrs. Hudson, and she turned over Elizabeth’s journals which detailed Enzo’s threats and abuse. Her last entry was an admission that she believed he would kill her, and th
e next day, she was gone. Enzo covered his tracks well, which is why he managed to fool so many of us for so long, but I knew his defense wasn’t bulletproof. He slipped up in his brother’s murder by leaving his own blood at the scene. His actions have proven that he acts on impulse, and he’s not a criminal mastermind. I was counting on that weakness to reveal a fatal flaw in at least one of his covers, but as it turned out, it wasn’t Enzo who fucked up and left something behind. It was Gwen.
On her hard drives, she had saved years’ worth of security footage from her house, including the day that Enzo assaulted Ricardo’s wife. Manuel discovered it late one night while he was helping in the search. He handed it over to me and told me to watch it before excusing himself from the room. He couldn’t stomach seeing it a second time, so I was prepared for the worst. I only managed to watch the footage exactly once, vomiting after I witnessed the things Enzo did to Ricardo’s wife. The situation took a violent turn when Ricardo showed up in the middle of it and tried to stop Enzo. Ricardo managed to pull him off her briefly but was subsequently stabbed to death with the knife Enzo carried. With his brother’s blood on his hands, he forced himself on Nicolette a second time before he killed her too.
The images have haunted me every night since. The thought I keep coming back to is that Gwen knew. She had to have known, because IVI searched for the footage but turned up nothing. She had hidden it, only returning it when Enzo was convicted, and there was no hope left. Why she would keep the video is beyond my comprehension, but I’m beginning to understand that Gwen was possibly just as sick in the head as Enzo is. She had always laid the blame for Ricardo’s death with Nicolette, condemning her for seducing Enzo. She had spent her life protecting Enzo and cleaning up his mistakes at the expense of everyone else. When she tried to kill Natalia, I was so blinded by my loyalty to the Marcone family I couldn’t see how deranged they were, but I see it now.
Enzo tried to portray himself as the victim in this situation. He reasoned away the DNA evidence left behind with the fact that Nicolette had come onto him, and he had a moment of weakness. He maintained that Ricardo killed her in a fit of rage and that Enzo had tried to stop him, but Ricardo had then turned on him. He said he had no choice but to kill his brother to save himself. The Tribunal never fully believed his version of events, and the evidence was contradictory. Without witnesses or footage, they could not determine that what had occurred warranted death. They’d sentenced him to life in prison instead. Now that they’ve received the actual footage, they can have no doubt to Enzo’s brutality. If all goes as planned at this hearing, it means Enzo could be dead by this evening. Natalia can rest peacefully, and I can be content that I’ve made him pay for the crimes he committed against her and the others.
“Traffic’s going to be a bitch right now,” I tell Angelo as I check my watch again. “Perhaps you should let them know we could be delayed.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll wait,” he assures me.
We reach the front door, and the sound of heels approaching makes me pause. Angelo taps me on the shoulder to get my attention, and when I turn, Natalia is lingering at the bottom of the staircase.
She looks beautiful today, but then she looks beautiful every day. Her long, dark hair is loose and free, the way I like it best. Her lipstick is red, and her dress is too. It kills me every time I see her in that color. Or any other color, really. It doesn’t matter what she wears. This hunger never goes away. The constant ache in my chest doesn’t either. She’s more than I deserve. More than anyone deserves.
Her eyes are soft as she looks up at me hesitantly. I think it’s the first time I’ve even made direct eye contact with her since the night in New York. I’ve done my best to avoid her, but right now, my thoughts are all over the place, and I wasn’t prepared for this. She holds out the phone in her hand, indicating that she has something to say.
I step away from Angelo and meet her in the middle of the foyer. From this close, I can smell her new perfume. It’s something soft and sweet she picked up on a shopping trip with Abella. That scent has been haunting the halls of this house ever since, and it’s driving me crazy.
I’m already on edge, and I try to justify that as the reason I feel so disconcerted in her presence. Truthfully, I’m half expecting this to be a goodbye note, even though I’m certain she knows she can’t leave. Instead, I’m greeted with something even more unnerving when she hits play.
Can I talk to you? It’s important.
“I..” My voice fractures and I shake my head. “I can’t right now.”
She reaches out and touches my arm, her throat working as she forces herself to speak. “I’m your wife, Alessio.”
“I know.” I swallow painfully, repressing the truth I’ve wanted to tell her for far too long. “I just… I have to be somewhere.”
She lowers her lashes, nodding without further protest. Why would she? I’ve done everything in my power to fuck this up for us. If she doesn’t hate me yet, it’s only a matter of time.
She turns to go, and I watch her walk away. It’s the only time I can watch her. What I really want to do is drag her back and kiss her. I want to tell her I never meant to hurt her, but it would be a lie. I had to hurt her so I couldn’t destroy her later. It was always inevitable that I would.
Angelo clears his throat, and I drag my gaze away, forcing myself out the door. Later. Everything else will have to wait until Enzo is dead. Until then, there can be no peace.
Outside, we get into his car, and he drives because I’m too amped up to focus. I need to prepare my thoughts for the Tribunal. It’s been consuming my mind for so long I haven’t been able to see anything else. Angelo has other plans, apparently.
“Why didn’t you hear what she had to say?” he asks.
I glance over at him. “We had to leave.”
“When you have a beautiful wife at home who wants to talk to you, who gives a fuck what’s waiting for you. You should listen to what she has to say.”
I laugh at the absurdity of his statement. “Ironic, coming from you. Would you listen to Abella if she asked you to talk?”
His grip on the wheel tightens, and so does his jaw. “It’s not the same.”
“No?”
“No.” He glares at me. “What Abella did was unforgivable. In your case, I think it’s safe to say it’s the other way around. Natalia’s loyalty to you is unwavering. All you have to do is look at her to see that.”
“You don’t know anything.” I stare out the window.
“I know you’ve been moping around for weeks, acting like a fucking lunatic. You’ve convinced yourself you can’t rest until you deal with Enzo, but it’s just an excuse to avoid your real problem.”
“And what problem would that be?” I grit out.
“I’ve known you forever, Alessio.” He guides the car onto the interstate, checking the mirror as he accelerates. “This is what you always do. You push the people who care about you away. That’s the real reason you went to live with the Marcone's instead of us when you lost your family. With them, you had nothing to lose. It’s a pattern. A survival instinct. You think it will hurt less if you fail everyone from the beginning than if you fail them in the end, so you don't even try. You did it with Nino, and now you’re doing it with her. It’s not going to save you or anyone else. All you’re doing is making everyone miserable, including yourself.”
His words hit me like a goddamned bullet I didn’t see coming. I can’t deny their accuracy. It’s exactly what I do, what I’ve always done, because deep down, I’m fucking terrified I’m going to hurt someone the way my father hurt me. It’s crippled me in more ways than I can count, but Angelo is wrong about one thing. It’s protected the people in my life too.
“I couldn’t live with myself if I caused them that type of pain,” I answer quietly. “You can’t understand.”
“It’s because you’ve been through that type of pain that I know you’ll never hurt them that way.” Angelo dodges in and out of the
morning traffic, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “What are you even afraid of? I know you’d never be unfaithful to her, so it isn’t that.”
“It’s not about being unfaithful.” I glance out at the passing scenery. “It’s about making one wrong choice, one move that has the potential to be devastating. Do you think my father had any idea that night when he walked out of our house that his decision would cost him so much? He made a careless choice in a moment of weakness, and it changed everything. It fucking paralyzes me every time I think about it. I question everything I do, wondering if it’s right. Just because it hasn’t happened yet, doesn’t mean it won’t. There will come a day that I fuck it up. It’s inevitable.”
I can feel Angelo’s gaze on my face as he quietly acknowledges that I just told him more than I’ve probably ever told anyone.
“It is inevitable,” he agrees. “You will fuck it up.”
I turn to him, meeting his gaze.
“Because you’re human, Alessio. That’s what we do. We fuck up. We hurt each other. I can guarantee you it’s a species-wide problem. You’ve condemned yourself to a life of isolation, and for what? Your fears won’t protect your family and distancing yourself won’t protect you. There are no guarantees in life. You can’t stop the clock or change their fate. But you can pull your head out of your ass and make the most of the time you’ve been given. You have a wife and son who care about you, and if you don’t stop shutting them out, there will come a day when it will be too late. They won’t forgive you for the time you’ve lost. When it’s all said and done, you’ll be remembered as the man who couldn’t love them.”
I close my eyes and lean my head against the seat. My chest hurts, and it feels like I’m fucking dying.
“You aren’t dying,” Angelo mutters. “That’s what us other humans call an emotion. Get used to it.”
