by BSmith
“I can forgive Stefano’s ambition. And you’ve been a good lap dog in his place.” The Vice President interjected calmly. “We’ve done our part to ensure that the possible future that our Seers have predicted doesn’t come to pass. Your job now, Julian, is to go home and reign in Marcello. Make sure he drops any sort of quest against the Anunnaki or the Roshaniya.”
Julian stared at Carissa’s son for a long, impenetrable moment. Finally, he leveled his eyes on the Anunnaki. “No.”
The Vice President’s brow subtly arched. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I won’t do your dirty work anymore,” Julian said, simply.
The Vice President looked over at Dom Jr. “And you?”
Dom pulled his furious gaze from his cousin and looked at the Anunnaki. “I stand with my uncle.”
“Leave us, Dominic,” the Vice President said.
Dominic’s eyes flicked back and forth between his uncle and his cousin. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to go down like th—”
“You heard him, Dominic.” Julian looked over at his nephew for the last time. “Get the fuck outta here. And I pray to God your mother never knows that only one of her sons had a life worthy of her maiden name.”
Dominic’s jaw trembled, and his fists visibly shook. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
He was standing in the hallway, trying to let his Uncles words roll off his back, when the screaming started.
§
July 6, 1974 - 9:11 AM
Alcyone Island
Dion Corporation Headquarters
Not many people knew that a very important office could be found on the 52nd floor of the Dion Corporation building. Fewer still knew whose offices it was. That made the box that had been delivered strange in and of itself, but it took Marcello mere seconds to realize who would have sent it to him.
Security had done their checks on it and determined it was safe to open. Marcello pulled the letter opener off his desk and cut the tape loose. When he pulled the lid open, his eyes widened at the grotesque sight that greeted him. “Oh, my God.”
§
“Isabella, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” Marcello squatted down in front of his younger cousin’s chair. He covered her tightly clenched hands.
Dom Jr., her brother, was dead. Inside the box delivered to Marcello’s office just hours ago was his head. So was Uncle Julian’s.
Matteo stood at the window, his eyes slowly leaking silent tears. “Who did this Marcello?” he demanded quietly.
Isabella’s eyes shone wetly. She pressed trembling fingers against her mouth. A single tear came out of the corner of her eye, before the veil and control was found. At Matteo’s question, she brought those eyes to Marcello, silently asking the same.
Marcello glanced over at Matteo, then back at Isabella, coming to a decision. He stood up. “We’re a family of secrets and we’ve been keeping them from each other. What I’m going to share with you now cannot be shared with your brothers.”
“Tell us, Marcello.” Matteo turned away from the glass, his eyes landing on his cousin.
Isabella’s brow arched sharply. “What kind of secrets?”
Marcello regarded the two of them in brief silence before he spoke. “This started with my father and was given to yours. Even we Terenzios have a master, but it’s one we’ve already turned against.”
Chapter 6
“Think you can handle it? The day you look in the mirror and realize the evil that you’ll do?”
- Stefano Vasco Terenzio
October 18, 1994 - 6:22 PM
Alcyone Island
Cleona’s Italian Restaurant
The kids have their first play tomorrow night. Anne and I would love it if you could make it.” Nicholas Terenzio-Fidelio looked over at his lover.
Mario smiled softly. “I’d love to. Man, they grow up fast.”
“Yes, they do.” Nicholas leaned across the seat and kissed him. “Have a good night.”
Mario squeezed Nicholas’ thigh. “Enjoy your dinner meeting.”
“Unlikely.” Nicholas kissed him again, and climbed out of the car with his blazer in one hand. When he entered Cleona’s, Alcyone’s finest Italian restaurant, he put the jacket on. “Hello, Jimmy.”
“Ah, Mr. Fidelio. Miss Kayla is waiting for you.” Plucking up a menu, the maître d’ led Nicholas to the Terenzio family’s private booth. Kayla was sitting there, sipping a glass of white wine. She smiled politely at Nicholas and tilted her head up to accept the proprietary kiss he placed on her cheek.
“Thank you for coming. How are Anne and the kids?” Kayla asked.
“They’re fine.” Nicholas snapped open his menu. Once the maître d' had gone, he looked at Kayla. “What do you want?”
Kayla’s mouth curved into a smile. “Your Uncle Joey is always so polite. So is your mother. What happened to you and your father, I’ll never guess.”
“My Uncle doesn’t know when to shut up, and my father is an idiot,” Nicholas said evenly. “You’re right about Grandma Issa, though.”
“How are you and your father getting along these days?” Kayla watched him closely.
“We’re not.”
“Shame. And all over Mario.”
Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Kayla?”
“If you had a choice between controlling the world or letting the world control itself, which would you choose?” Kayla asked casually, bringing her wine glass to her mouth.
A frown set on Nicholas’s face. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A very simple yes or no one.” A hint of impatience exposed itself in her tone. “Answer it.”
“My mother may have gotten married, but I am still a Terenzio, Kayla. That means we control the world, not the other way around.”
She made a thoughtful noise. “You’d be surprised.”
Nicholas arched a brow. “Meaning?”
“What if I told you, your children’s future was at stake due to poor management choices? Specifically made by your uncle and my father?”
Nicholas studied her face. At length, he said, “I’d tell you to keep talking.”
“Nicholas…” Kayla reached across the short distance that separated them and touched his hand. Inwardly, she flinched, but her distaste for the physical contact was well hidden. “For the majority of your life, your father has thought you a waste. I’d like to give you a chance to not only prove him wrong, but help me move this family in the direction it should be going.”
Nicholas stared at his water glass. Worthless, his father had always called him, and much crueler things before Dominic stopped acknowledging his son’s existence altogether. Nicholas had been strong enough to not give a fuck what his father thought, but a chance to really prove his worth and situate himself in a position of greater authority in the family was very, very appealing. He brought familiar gray eyes up to Kayla’s. “Maybe we should order something. I think we may be here for a while.”
§
October 18, 1994 - 6:22 PM
Alcyone Island
Home of Carissa Terenzio
*Dominic was irritated today, as he often was when he thought of what a colossal failure his son had become. He did not often think of Nicholas. Not after he'd caught him with... Shaking his head in disgust, Dominic forced the memory away and pushed open the door to his mother's home. It was Tuesday night, and he took her to dinner every Tuesday night. "Mother?" He called out from the foyer.
Carissa Marie Terenzio-Fidelio may have been eighty-four years old, but she never let that stop her. It was no surprise, then, that she was busy when her youngest arrived to take her to dinner. "Up here, Dom!" Looking at the clock in front of her and registering that it was already 7:30, she slipped her reading glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose lightly before getting to her feet to head for the top of the stairs.
Pulling the mail off the table in the foyer where it had yet to be retrieved, Dominic flipped through the envel
opes as he climbed the staircase. "You spent the day in your office again, didn't you?" Dominic adored his mother. And it had festered over the years that Joey had been the favorite son. She didn't have to say it, and never would, his mother wasn't that type of woman; but he could see it. It was one of Dominic's many secrets that he had not been as sad as he'd pretended to be when Joey had finally died. Tucking that thought aside when he reached the top of the stairs, he met his mother’s gaze, leaned in, and kissed her cheek affectionately.
Carissa's face lit up, as it always did, at the sight of her son. Joey used to light her face up the same way, before he died. She returned the kiss, waving one hand dismissively. "I meant to spend some time gardening this afternoon, but time flies when you're terribly old." Amusement glimmered in gray eyes that were still as sharp as ever they had been. Examining her son's face, she lifted heavily wrinkled hands to cup his face between them. "You look tired, sweetie. You work too hard."
"Apparently, not hard enough if I can't keep up with you."
"Pfft." Carissa waved the thought aside with a dismissive noise. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that you wouldn't still be working if it wasn't Take-Mother-To-Dinner night," she chided gently. "You should spend more time with Maria,” she said, referring to Dominic’s wife. "We never know how much time we'll have with the people we love. Just look at your brother—" even now, her voice got a hair unsteady when she spoke of him. "Well, we didn't have nearly enough time with him."
A flicker of a shadow tainted the back of Dominic’s eyes. "Considering the path Joey took, we're lucky we got as much time with him as we did."
Carissa's brows shot up in disgruntled surprise, not only at those words, but at the look in her son’s eyes. She released his face and took a step back, frowning at him. "What is that supposed to mean, Dominic?"
"Nothing." Dominic brushed past her, walking towards her office. "I'm sorry. It doesn't matter." His jaw tensed. His brother didn't deserve his mothers’ pain, or her love. "Where do you want to go tonight?"
Carissa frowned a little more deeply. There was a small voice inside her head telling her—almost begging her—just to drop the subject, but she silenced it. "No, son. You said it. Obviously, you meant something by it. So, tell me why on earth you would be taking pot shots at your dead brother?" She almost flinched when she had to speak the word dead in connection with Joey. Time didn't heal all wounds—some were simply too deep.
Dominic dropped the mail on her desk, giving her his back and silence. His son was a disappointment. Agata wasn't strong enough to know the truth. His brother, a dead enemy. And his mother, this beautiful tower of strength, was misguided in her faith. He turned around, walking back out of her office and towards her. "Joey was on the wrong side. Joey spent his life a slave to the whims of a stupid man. Do you know how much of a Terenzio I am? The moves I've made, the shadows I've walked through? And for decades, Mother."
The blood drained slowly from Carissa's face. Joey? On the wrong side? The idea was ludicrous. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What are you saying, Dominic? What have you done?"
"What have I done?" Dominic could feel himself snapping. He'd held himself in check for so long; tolerated all the love his mother had given Joey, while he had been left desperately wanting for the same depth of affection; tolerated the knowledge that Joey and Marcello were running the family into the ground. Dominic reached out, clasping his mother’s hands and pulling her towards him. "The right thing, Mother. Marcello was keeping secrets from you. About everything. He's fighting against a very powerful force that we should be siding with instead."
Carissa stiffened. For once, she truly looked old. "Dominic, no. I know. I know what Joey was doing. What Marcello asked of him. What they—we—were fighting against. Are fighting against. And now, you tell me that you... That my own son..." She shook her head, tearing her hands away from his and taking a step back, forced into silence by the horror of what she was only now beginning to fully understand. Not about Joey, but about Dominic himself.
Shock registered openly on Dominic’s face. She knew, and she was on the other side. Marcello's side. Joey's side. The lines around Dominic's mouth tightened, staring at his mother in a brief, incredulous silence. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. No, you know what, I refuse to believe I'm hearing this." He drew himself up and buttoned the front of his suit. "Get rea¬dy for dinner, Mother. We're going to talk, and by the end of the evening, you're going to get on the right side."
Carissa took one more step back from Dominic and shook her head with heavy finality. "I wish I could refuse to believe what I'm hearing, son. There will be no dinner. It's not me whose loyalties are grievously misaligned." She closed her eyes, as if she was unable to even look at him. Her voice was very quiet, and deeply sorrowed. "Oh, Dom. You've broken my heart."
She might as well have shot him. "I've broken your heart?!" Dominic came at her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "Everything, everything I've done has been for you!" Tears burst from his eyes and he shook his mother hard. "I knew Uncle Julian wouldn't understand, and Dom Jr. was too stupid to make a choice for himself, but you! You! You take it back. You take it back right now, Mother. You're on the wrong side! Why can't you see that?!"
Through Dominic’s rage Carissa saw the small boy he had been, always craving her approval so deeply, always trying to outshine his big brother. Carissa wondered how she had been so blind, for so many years, to what Dominic was. She was hard-pressed to hold her own tears back, but she managed. "Don't you dare—don't you dare tell me that what you've done was for me. You've smeared mud on the memory of your elder brother. Joey loved you, he loved you. He wanted to make the world a better place—for you. For all of us." She stared at her son in silence for half a second, then shook her head and twisted her shoulders in the attempt to wrest them from his grasp. "Go. Just… go. Please."
Dominic’s fury flamed so hotly that he saw red. Joey. Joey. Joey. Always fucking Joey. Joey this. Joey that. She would not switch sides. She was looking at him the same way Uncle Julian had, right before he died. Dominic’s back teeth clenched. He didn't release his mother but forced her against him, so he could hug her, fiercely.
For an instant, Carissa pressed her forehead into his shoulder, wishing silently that it could have been different; wondering what she could have done differently. Dominic’s tears came harder. A low sob caught in his throat and ran silently down the length of his form. Then, he became the Terenzio he was and sucked it all back in. He stopped hugging his mother, but kept his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, tenderly. "I forgive you,” he whispered. "You'll forgive me, too." It didn’t require much force on his end; to shove his mother down the staircase.
Gravity took her, and the damning sounds of her tumble echoed out with no scream to punctuate them. When silence once again reigned, Carissa lay at the bottom of the stairs in a broken heap, dove-grey eyes gazing sightlessly upward toward her youngest.
Dominic’s shoulder hit the wall, and then he sunk down it until he was sitting at the top of the stairs, tears running in an open line down his face. Eventually, he wiped his tears on his sleeve and stood up to call 911.
§
May 21, 2000 - 1:12 PM
Alcyone Island
Marina Café
“What I really want is complete control of SVT Securities.” Olivia sat a table in the beachside café, the rush of the ocean quietly serenading the lunch goers.
Amadeo Terenzio sat across from her, his fingers laced behind his thick head of prematurely whitening hair. “You just want access to the black budget records.”
“Bet your ass I do. Marcello’s been up to something for years, and I think its bullshit we’re kept in the dark. If he’s making moves, we should all know about it.”
“And what if I told you what Marcello was up to?” The voice came unexpectedly. Dominic strolled up to their table, pulling out a chair and inviting himself to sit in it.
Amadeo quirked a br
ow. “We’d say thanks?”
Dominic chuckled, then grew serious. “Marcello, Matteo, and my brother have spent the last decade fucking up your legacy.”
Olivia slid her sunglasses down her nose, eyeing Dominic over the rim. “And how would you know that?”
“I discovered a letter, written to your Uncle, from Stefano.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket, removing the old, folded piece of paper and pushed it across the table. “Then, I started snooping around on my own. Olivia, Marcello and your father are moving in the direct opposite of what the original heads of this family wanted.”
