Last Man Standing

by Wendy Rosnau

  “How long have you worked for him?” Elena asked.

  “Twenty years.” She poured Elena another cup of tea. “Your mother is still living?”

  Knowing how important it was for everyone to believe Grace was dead, Elena had no trouble lying. “No,” she said. “She passed away a few years ago. Do you know the story about my mother’s life with my father? About the night she had her…accident?”

  “Accident?”

  “When she was hurt?” Elena carefully explained.

  “Your father never talked about wife. Very painful for shujin.”

  “Because she left him?”

  “Because she lie to him.” Summ sipped her tea. “Your mother betrayed your father with father’s friend. Wakai shujin’s father.”

  “And do you know what happened that night?”

  “Rumor say the two of them were taken away and punished.”

  The words sent chills up Elena’s spine. “Was my father the one who punished them?”

  Summ lowered her head.

  “Please,” Elena pressed. “Was he the one who punished them?”

  “Shujin sorry for whatever pain he caused wife. Memories very painful.”

  Elena stiffened in the chair. “Then he was the one.” Her voice broke and she closed her eyes. She hadn’t wanted it to be so, but she had feared it was true. He had discovered that his wife was unfaithful to him, and he had beaten her and cut her face in a rage to punish her. And then he had taken Frank’s eye.

  That had to be why Frank wanted to protect her from the truth. Vito Tandi was the one who had tortured her mother. He was the monster.

  It’s complicated, Frank had said. Lucky and Joey had used the same word. Frank had said, Your father doesn’t know you exist. Can never know.

  Elena shivered in spite of the warm robe. How could she face him now? How could she look her father in the eye knowing he was the one responsible for her mother’s life of pain?

  It all made sense now. The entire, complicated, ugly truth. Elena heard herself say, “Has he suffered? The cancer, I mean. Is it painful?”

  “Very painful. Torture him day and night.”

  Elena nodded, glad to hear it. Vito Tandi deserved to suffer for what he’d done. No, her father deserved to die.

  Tired of waiting for Lucky to show up, Elena left her room a few minutes before noon dressed in the black satin pants and shirt Summ had given her. She descended the steps feeling as if she was wearing pajamas, but that was ridiculous. The high-collared shirt had complicated frog hooks that went almost to her throat, and the pants were a perfect fit.

  Chilled, she remembered the fireplace in the living room and now sought it out. As she entered the room, she saw the parrot, his feathers a bright blue, balanced on the edge of a high-back chair occupied by a rotund man with a bald head. She was about to back out the door when the bird let out a loud squawk, telling the man that someone was there.

  When their eyes met, Elena knew it was him: her father.

  She should have turned and fled, and she wanted to. But she couldn’t move. It was as if her feet were wooden blocks that had been nailed to the floor.

  She watched as he reached for a metal walker that stood beside his chair. Sliding forward, he hefted his weight upward, took a second to gain his balance, then started forward.

  Again she wanted to run, but she just stood there while he closed the distance between them. The only noise was the scrape of the walker against the floor.

  It was obvious it was a struggle to reach her. But he kept moving closer and closer until the metal walker slid to a halt three feet from where Elena stood trembling. She was finally face-to-face with the man who had carved up her mother’s beautiful face. Face-to-face with the man who had beaten Grace until he had split her skull open.

  “I hate you,” she said. “You’re a monster.”

  “Who hates me?” he demanded. “You, who has my Grace’s face, but not her…eyes? Who are you?”

  In that moment if she’d had a gun, Elena knew she would have aimed it at her father and pulled the trigger.

  “Speak!”

  His swollen hands kept a death grip on the metal bars of the walker as he stared her down. Elena stared back, their eyes so similar she almost felt as if she was staring into a mirror. Suddenly she had to say it, had to hurt him, even though it was clear he was suffering from a disease that ravaged him from the inside out. “I’ve come to look at the monster,” she taunted. “To see what kind of animal could do such a thing.”

  “Do what thing?”

  Elena wanted to say more, to do more. She wanted to scream at him and knock him on his ass. Lucky was right. She had wanted a father she could be proud of, not an animal with no conscience.

  Her disappointment and anger boiled over, and she said, “Listen, you…you poor excuse for a human being, I’m Grace’s daughter. Your daughter.”

  His eyes widened. “What! Daughter? I have no daughter.”

  “Well, I’m not Frank’s, though I wish I were. So, Daddy,” she mocked, “when are you going to die so I can dance on your grave?”

  A ruddy red stain rose over Vito’s cheeks. A second later, he dropped his head.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “Don’t you dare look away! Look at me! Look at me, and remember how she looked before you cut her and beat her head in! Look! Look at me, Daddy. Look, and remember your Grace!”

  He answered her challenge and raised his head.

  To Elena’s horror and surprise, the tears on his florid cheeks were flowing like a river. Then his knees buckled and he crumbled to the floor.

  “You knew about her and you were never going to tell me? You knew I had a daughter? An heir? Bastard!”

  It had been an hour since Lucky had carried Vito to his room. A long hour of listening to the man rage like a mad bull.

  His strength finally sapped, Vito now lay on the bed, his mood black. His tortured throat was no longer able to withstand his shouting.

  Lucky said, “You’re right. I never intended to tell you. I thought it would be better for her.”

  “You son of a bitch! How long have you known about her?”

  “A month. Maybe a little longer.”

  “So Grace didn’t die at the cabin that night.”

  “No. I don’t have the details—” he did, but he wasn’t going to share them “—but Frank got her out of there and to a hospital in time to save her life. Later, when she was well enough to travel, he took her out of state and changed her name.”

  “And she was pregnant?”

  “Yes.”

  “With my child.”

  “Do you have a problem believing that?”

  Vito looked away.

  “I didn’t think so,” Lucky said softly. “All you have to do is look at her to know the truth of it.”

  “All these years I’ve lived believing Grace died that night.” He looked up. “What about her? Where is my Grace now?”

  “She’s dead,” Lucky lied, knowing he didn’t have a choice. “She died a few years ago. But she lived long enough to raise your daughter.”

  “Raise her as Frank’s daughter, you mean?”

  “Yes. Grace never fully recovered from her ordeal. She lost her memory that night and never regained it. There was some brain damage.”

  Vito closed his eyes. After a long while, he said, “I thought you were an honorable man, Armanno.”

  “Elena’s safety is more important than your opinion of me, old man. If her identity is discovered by one of your enemies, what do you think they would do to her? Vincent D’Lano would like nothing better than to take revenge on you through your daughter.”

  Vito’s face paled. “You can’t let that happen.”

  “No, I can’t,” Lucky agreed.

  “You must protect her.”

  “I intend to. But that could be difficult. She insists on learning the truth about her mother and you. She wants details.”

  Vito winced. “She can’
t know what went on that night at D’Lano’s cabin.”

  “She already knows some of it. Enough to make her determined to get the facts.”

  Vito shook his head. “Elena must never know the extent of Grace’s suffering. Never. You need to send her away. Back to wherever she’s been living. Wherever this place is that Frank supplied for them. I underestimated your father. I never suspected he was hiding Grace from me all these years. When he died, it must have pained Elena greatly.”

  It was critical that Vito continue to think Frank was as dead as Grace. Lucky said, “The news was a shock to her, but she’s a strong woman.” He turned away, not liking how Vito was looking at him.

  “Does my daughter know how you feel about her?”

  “How I feel?”

  “I am sick, not stupid. And I think we both agree that my daughter is very beautiful.”

  Lucky faced Vito. “My loyalty to my family, as well as yours, makes her my responsibility. Nothing more, old man.”

  “I think you would prefer it that way. Less complicated, huh?”

  Lucky was beginning to hate that word.

  “How long will she be staying?”

  “D’Lano is still in jail, but once he’s out, he’s going to come gunning for us,” Lucky said. “I don’t want Elena anywhere near here when that happens.”

  Vito eyed Lucky, and he knew the old man’s mind was again churning. “My daughter’s safety weighs heavy on you. This is good. It is true you have a responsibility to both families. Your own and mine. I will rest easier in death, Armanno, knowing this.”

  Chapter 7

  “She’s locked herself in,” Summ told him as Lucky approached her in the upstairs hallway.

  He said, “Vito is asking for you. Go to him.”

  She hesitated as if she was unsure who needed her more. “Musume is very upset. I—”

  “Don’t worry. Elena, I can handle. But Vito—” Lucky smiled “—you have more experience there.”

  The housekeeper blushed, seeming to like hearing that. “I will be gentle but firm. You will also be gentle with musume. Yes?”

  Lucky’s smile never wavered. “Yes.”

  She reached out and patted his arm. “You are honorable man. I see this in your eyes the first time we meet. Very proud to serve wakai shujin.”

  After Summ left to see to Vito, Lucky rapped on the door. “Open up, Elena.”

  “Go away.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Not now!”

  Lucky swore in Italian, rapped harder on the door. “I’m not going away.”

  There was a long minute of silence, then the door opened a crack. Enough to allow him to get his boot inside. “I’m listening. Say what you have to say, then leave me alone.”

  “Let me in.”

  “No.”

  “Dammit, Elena.” He shoved open the door, sweeping her off her feet and into his arms at the same time. Still holding her, he slammed the door closed. He was about to give her a piece of his mind when he noticed her red nose and eyes.

  She turned away in an attempt to hide her face. “Okay, you’re stronger than I am even with a sore back and unreliable legs. Now put me down.”

  The fight had left her voice, and he slid her down the front of him, but he didn’t let go of her. “You look terrible.”

  “Thank you. I feel worse than terrible,” she confessed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  His words from that morning offered back to him made him smile. He raised his hand and sent his fingers into her hair to move it away from her troubled face. “This has been a helluva two days.”

  “Finally we agree on something.”

  “You were pretty hard on your father, Elena. I just left him, and—”

  “Hard on him?” She shoved at Lucky’s chest to get free, and he let her go. “I’m not finished with him yet. Not nearly finished.”

  “Facilmente, Elena.”

  “Don’t you tell me to take it easy!”

  “Let me say something.”

  “Not if you’re going to condone what he did.”

  “Listen to me.”

  “No!” She held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear you sticking up for him. It’s obvious that’s your intent, and I don’t want to hear it. You never had to listen to my mother night after night. He never lived with the moaning. Well, I lived with it. Me! Every night!” She turned away, hugging herself. “Summ told me he’s the one. He was the one who took a knife to my mother’s face.” She turned back and glared at him. “How can you condone that?”

  “I don’t. But you’re wrong.” Lucky could see that Elena was out for revenge. She hadn’t just come to Chicago for a name and the truth. She’d come on a mission to avenge her mother. Carefully he said, “Vito wasn’t the one who hurt your mother, Elena. It’s true he was there that night, but he didn’t touch Grace. He tried to keep her from being hurt.”

  “That’s not true. Summ told me—”

  “What she told you was a rumor. The same rumor I’ve heard since I was a boy. But it’s not the truth. Your father didn’t do it, Elena. He never tortured Grace.”

  “Then who?”

  The venom in her voice was thick with need for justice. Lucky decided to give Elena a way out. “Carlo Talupa was the one, Elena. Chicago’s boss of bosses.”

  “Well, there is going to be a need for a new boss,” she snapped. “Because I’m going to kill him.”

  “There is no need for that, Elena. He’s already dead.”

  “He’s dead. When? How?”

  “A week ago. He was shot.”

  “By whom?”

  Lucky shrugged. “The police aren’t sure. He had many enemies.”

  He watched her physically relax. On a sigh, she conceded, “Then it’s all over.”

  “Over?”

  “Yes. I wanted the truth. You said you would give it to me. The truth about how and why. Mother betrayed my father with Frank, and Carlo Talupa punished them. That’s the truth, right?”

  He had cheated her out of the details, but she looked satisfied. Lucky nodded. “Yes, that’s the truth.”

  “I need to speak to my father,” she said suddenly.

  “He’s resting at the moment. You can speak to him a little later. Tonight, before I fly you home.”

  “Home? I can’t go home now.”

  Lucky scowled at her. “We had a deal. You wanted a name. You have a name. You wanted to meet your father, and you managed to pull that off, too. You’re going home, Elena.”

  “I didn’t go behind your back. I walked into a room and he was there.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference. What’s done is done. I’ve held up my end, and now it’s your turn to do the same.”

  “I made that deal before I knew my father was dying. You didn’t tell me he was ill. I can’t just meet him, accuse him of being a monster, say I’m sorry, then leave.”

  “Yes, you can. You will.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “It’s dangerous for you to be here.”

  “This place is like a fortress. That’s a lame excuse to send me home, Lucky.”

  “You’re leaving.”

  “I’m not!” She turned away, and Lucky knew she was fighting tears. He reached for her before he thought it through. Spinning her around, he pulled her into his arms. “Dammit, Elena, don’t do this.”

  Instead of fighting him, she pressed her body into his, and buried her face against his chest. “Piacere, Lucky. Let me stay.”

  “You know I can’t.”

  She slid her arms around his waist and clung. “Just for a little while. A day or two. Three at the most.”

  “No.”

  She looked up at him, tears heavy in her eyes. “I’ll do whatever you say while I’m here. I won’t leave the estate. I won’t make any trouble. I promise.”

  It was then that Lucky knew she would get her way. He wasn’t going to be able to send her back to Santa Palazzo. Not yet, anyway. A f
ew days, he decided. He had already tightened up security. Vinnie was still in jail.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I know you want to. And I want you to.”

  She went up on tiptoe, her hands sliding up his back. Her scent wrapped around him, and he felt her soft breasts against his chest. He locked gazes with her. “This is no good, Elena. A bad idea.”

  Her lips parted and she brushed them against his, torturing him into taking what he wanted. He covered her mouth and sent his tongue inside quickly, sliding along the roof of her sweet mouth. He heard her moan, and he tugged her closer. Sent his tongue deeper. Exploring. Tasting. Stroking.

  She angled her head and opened her mouth wider. Offered him more. Whatever he wanted to take. He knew he should back away. Knew he should at least slow down.

  He loosened his hold on her waist and ran his hands over her hips, but instead of pushing her away, he lifted her slightly and pressed his swollen shaft against her.

  She was wearing black satin pants, and he could feel all of her, every curve, all of her heat.

  He kissed her until his breath ran out, then backed off just enough to let her come up for air. To resupply his own lungs. It was as he lowered his head to kiss her once more that he realized what she was up to. Last night she had been willing to do anything to get her father’s name. And today she was again willing to make sacrifices to get what she wanted.

  Angry that he had allowed her to con him, he let her go. “I told you once before that I was the wrong man to play games with, Elena.”

  His brittle words had her stepping back. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You think I’m seducing you to buy more time with my father?”

  “That’s exactly what I think.”

  She rubbed his kiss off her mouth with the back of her hand. “Get out.”

  He strolled to the door. Over his shoulder, he said, “Well, it worked. Copping a feel and getting a taste of you has bought you a week.” He turned and faced her. “When you speak to your father, don’t mention where you’ve been living. Oh, and as I expected he would, he asked about Grace. I told him she died a few years ago. Stick to the lie, Elena. Things are already complicated enough.”