by K. A. Ware
I raised a trembling hand to the back of my head as I entered the kitchen, wincing when I touched my tender scalp. I’d have to be more careful in the future if he was already beginning to doubt my loyalties. I pulled both identical notebooks from my apron, staring at the small stack of paper that could’ve cost me my life.
Chapter 18
Seattle, Washington
August, 2006
Elena
I watched from my post in the kitchen, like so many times before, as Vincenzo’s car sped down the driveway. The smothering feeling that I felt when he was near started to ebb as I watched the car turn down the bend and out of sight.
My hands shook with relief. I bowed my head in exhaustion and let the sobs roll over me. I’d been helping Carlo spy on his father any way I could for the past few years, and the stress of it was starting to get to me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up this façade, but I had to try. For Carlo’s sake.
Taking a steadying breath, I wiped away the tears from my cheeks. It wouldn’t do to throw myself a pity party; I had to push forward. Turning to carry on with my day, I came face to face with Carlo. I hadn’t heard his approach, but from the concern etched on his features, he’d been there long enough to witness my breakdown.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. Then his demeanor changed, his stance suddenly becoming ridged. “What did he do to you?” he demanded.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Just had something in my eye,” I lied. I wasn’t about to tell Carlo that his father had sought me out the night before for the first time in months. I still didn’t know how much Carlo knew about my relationship with his father, but I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to broach the subject.
Carlo glared down at me, clearly not believing my excuse.
“Why are you still here?” I asked, making a lame attempt to change the subject. “You’re usually gone by now.”
“I needed to talk to you. Where is everybody?”
“Your father sent everyone into the city before he left.”
“Good,” he nodded.
“We’re clear,” Antonio said, walking into the kitchen behind Carlo.
“He’s out of control, Elena,” Carlo said, pacing the length of the tiled floor. “I caught sight of one of the ledgers the other day, and I’m worried. The gambling has gotten out of hand, he’s bleeding money; I’m not sure how much longer he can keep up at the rate he’s going.”
“What? How is that possible?” I asked, stunned. We’d figured out he’d been going to close-door poker rooms and underground casinos a few years ago but Carlo had decided to let it go. Money had never been an issue before; things must be really bad for Carlo to be concerned.
“From what I can tell, he doesn’t let anyone but Nicky look at the books. But what Carlo saw is definitely cause for concern,” Antonio offered.
“I just don’t understand; there’s still money coming in, right? Nothing’s changed there, gambling, heroin, guns, everything is steady?” My questions were met with two blank and bewildered stares. “What?” I prompted.
“How do you know about all that?” Carlo asked carefully.
Placing my hand on my hip, I stared him down, or up rather since he’d grown to be nearly a foot taller than me. “I’ve been around for thirty years, Carlo. I probably know more about the business than you do.”
Carlo blinked in shock then turned to Antonio, who just shrugged.
“Stop looking at him and answer my question!” I demanded. Money made people desperate, and a desperate Vincenzo would not bode well for anyone.
Carlo shook his head as if clearing his thoughts before he answered, “No, as far as we can tell, everything is business as usual. I’ve asked around, and nothing seems to have changed drastically lately.”
“So, the problem is with what’s going out,” I muttered, thinking aloud. “I haven’t noticed anything around here, no new cars or anything. What about you?”
“Nothing, it has to be the gambling,” Carlo said, shaking his head.
“Then you follow the money. Someone needs to try to get to Nicky. Carlo, that should probably be you.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“You’ll be his boss one day, and he knows it. If the ship sinks, he goes down with it, so it’s in his best interest to work with you.”
“How do you know all this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I know Nicky, he came over from Sicily with us. His loyalty is to the family, not your father. If he knows that he’ll be taken care of, he’ll help.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Angry voices carried from Vincenzo’s office and into the foyer.
Carlo.
I rushed toward the voices. I wasn’t sure what I could do, but if he needed me, I would be there.
“You’re gambling away everything we’ve got! You’re getting sloppy. Our contacts in Mexico are threatening to cut us off if we’re late on another payment. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Carlo screamed.
The hallway was dark except for the small sliver of light spilling out from the crack in the office door. I edged closer to see what was going on inside, careful to stick to the shadows so I wouldn’t be seen.
“You do not question me, ever!” Vincenzo boomed back.
“Yes, I do. And I will continue to question you every step of the way if you continue to drive this family into the fucking ground! This is mine just as much as it is yours. I will not let you ruin it.”
I could see Carlo pacing, his broad shoulders heaving with anger, but Vincenzo was too far into the room to see from my vantage point.
“Let me? You do not let me do anything. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the boss. You haven’t been given anything yet, and if you continue to defy me, I’ll make sure you have nothing to take over when I’m gone.”
“I’m giving you an opportunity to step down. Let me take over; I’ll get us back on top, and you can enjoy retirement.”
Vincenzo let out a laugh so coated in evil and hate that I felt it all the way to my core.
“You’re giving me the opportunity? What are you going to do, stage a takeover? You think you can just come in and throw me out?”
“Wha—” Carlo began, but Vincenzo cut him off.
“I wasn’t fucking finished! You seem to have forgotten how far my reach goes. You think because you’re my son that I’ll just roll over and let you take everything from me? No. This little stunt, it will cost you dearly. You’ve tested me enough, Carlo. Son or not, you will learn your place.”
“We want the same thing; don’t you see?”
“What I see is a defiant and arrogant boy who thinks he knows everything. You’re not ready to lead; you don’t have what it takes.”
“We need to find a solution. We can’t keep bleeding money like this!” Carlo argued.
“We don’t need to do anything. This conversation is over. Now leave before I lose my temper.”
I scuttled back as I heard Carlo’s heavy feet stalk toward the door, but I wasn’t quick enough. He came barreling into the hallway, slamming the office door behind him with such force I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d split the door frame. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. It was dark, but I could see the worry on his face. We didn’t speak, we just stared at each other, knowing that the worst of it was yet to come.
Two months after the confrontation I’d witnessed between Carlo and his father, word came in that Luciana had been involved in a deadly car accident. No one believed it was an accident; the smug look on Vincenzo’s face when the call came in was enough to confirm it.
The heavy weight of foreboding blanketed the house in the weeks that followed. Vincenzo’s arrogance would be his downfall. He thought that his actions would keep his son in line, but he didn’t know Carlo like I did. He believed Carlo to be weak because of his defiance, but it was just the opposite. He’d make his father answer for what he’d done, and I’d help any way I could—whatever it t
ook.
Chapter 19
Seattle, Washington
January, 2007
Elena
My mind was spinning as I diced the mushrooms for the salad. I had to stop several times because I was trembling so badly. My body felt like a live wire. The sound of the ice dropping in the fridge made me jump a mile high, and the dripping of the faucet was going to drive me to an early grave.
I’d spent the better part of the afternoon methodically preparing dinner, trying to keep busy and prevent my mind from reminiscing about the past. If I let myself remember the Vincenzo I’d known when we were young, I’d lose my nerve. I had to keep thinking about Carlo and what had happened to Luciana.
This is the only way. This is the only way. This is the only way.
I repeated the words over and over in hopes that they’d somehow absolve the guilt that was churning in my gut. My stomach lurched at hearing the tires of Vincenzo’s car as they bumped along the cobblestone drive for the last time. Rushing to the sink, I expelled what little I’d eaten that morning.
I wiped my mouth and rinsed the sink just as I heard Vincenzo lumber in through the front door. After over thirty years of serving the man, I knew he’d want dinner immediately. The dining room had already been set, so I picked up the salad and bread and headed out the swinging door.
As if fate was playing a cruel joke on my heart, he smiled widely when he saw me.
“My beautiful, Elena,” he said, cupping a hand around the back of my thigh as I poured his wine. “Come, eat with me.”
Shocked, I looked around, even though I knew there was no one in the house. “What?”
“No one’s here. Antonio and Carlo are working late. It’s just us. Please, we never get to just sit and eat together,” he implored.
I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat; I couldn’t tell him no. “Okay, let me get the rest of the food from the kitchen,” I said, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.
As soon as the door to the dining room swung shut behind me, I collapsed against the counter. I couldn’t tell if it was heaven or hell playing with me. Either way, I was near my breaking point. I wanted to back out, run away and never look back, but I couldn’t. Carlo and Antonio were hiding somewhere in the house, waiting. I couldn’t abandon them, no matter how scared I was.
I fumbled with the platter of spaghetti, my hands suddenly too weak to hold the weight of it. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a shaky breath.
Get it together, Elena. Whatever it takes.
With my newfound resolve, I picked up the platter and headed back into the dining room. I hovered, unsure of what to do next after I served him. We didn’t typically eat together, and we’d never shared a meal in such a formal atmosphere before.
“Sit, Elena,” he said, gesturing to the seat directly to his right. The one Luciana used to sit at.
The thought made my heart squeeze, but it also gave me the resolve I needed to follow through. What he’d put Luciana through was inexcusable, and that alone was enough to seal his fate. He was no longer the boy I’d loved all those years ago. He’d become a monster, and he deserved everything that was coming to him.
He told me about his day as if we were a normal couple sharing a meal. I pushed my food around, taking small bites only when necessary. The food tasted like ash on my tongue, and all my hate, bitterness, and resentment sat heavy in my stomach. Forcing myself not to look at the clock, I tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was useless.
I set my fork down, unable to continue pretending to eat. He was laughing at a story he was telling when I saw Antonio and Carlo approach from behind him. Keeping my eyes from wandering, I continued our meaningless conversation. The moment Carlo covered his mouth and nose with the cloth, Vincenzo started to thrash. Antonio quickly pinned him to the seat and together they struggled to keep him still.
It took a lot longer than what they showed in the movies and TV. I sat still as a stone less than a foot from the man for whom I’d given up everything. I refused to look away. I was a part of this; there was no denying it. Vincenzo finally started to settle, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to fight them off, and his eyes came to rest on mine. My tears blurred my vision, but I could feel the hate he was trying to convey.
The penance for my sins would be having the pain and betrayal in his eyes etched in my memory for the rest of my days.
I’d been pacing the foyer for what felt like hours. After Carlo and Antonio had dragged Vincenzo’s body out of the house, I’d done whatever I could to keep myself busy, but there wasn’t enough to keep my thoughts at bay.
What if he’d woken up? What if he got away?
I was so consumed with my own thoughts that I nearly jumped out of my skin when the front door flew open. For the briefest of moments my heart froze and I was certain he’d come for me. When Carlo appeared in the door, blood staining his clothes and a look in his eyes I couldn’t place, I knew it was over.
“It’s done,” he announced, moving into the house with Antonio on his heels.
“How?” I croaked, unshed tears brimming my eyelids.
“We made it look like a car accident; it’s burning now.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. I had to know there was no chance he could’ve survived.
“I’m sure. He was dead before we put him in the car,” Carlo answered with a finality that I felt in my bones.
“Right. Well, you boys get showered and changed. Bring me your clothes when you’re done. I’ll take care of them.”
Antonio nodded and headed up the stairs to his room, leaving just Carlo and me to stare at each other. He looked so much like his father, and in that moment, it was physically painful to look at him.
“Elena?” Carlo asked, taking a step closer.
I looked up to meet his eyes, the tears spilling down my face and the sobs following in full force. I couldn’t hold it in any longer; my legs gave out as every emotion I’d felt over the past thirty plus years came crashing down on me all at once. He was gone, and as evil as he’d become, I couldn’t help but mourn the man he once was.
Carlo caught me on my way down and held me like I’d done so many times for him when he was a child. He gripped me tighter the harder I sobbed and rocked me as my cries became wails of pain. He didn’t talk, didn’t offer me meaningless words of comfort. He just sat with me and let me get it all out.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up with the sun shining through my bedroom window.
There was a knock on my door, followed by Carlo’s deep voice, “Elena?”
I quickly got up and smoothed my wrinkled clothes and checked myself in the mirror above my dresser. My eyes were red and puffy from crying all night and my face was splotchy, but there was nothing to do about it. I padded to the door and opened it.
“Yes?” I asked, wincing at the soreness in my throat from using my voice for the first time since I’d woken up.
“I was just checking on you. When you weren’t up this morning, I was worried.”
“Oh, God. What time is it? Are you hungry?” I asked immediately.
He chuckled. “Always with the food. I’m fine; I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh.” I took a breath as everything from the day before started filtering through my mind. “I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But I will be.”
“I understand. Look,” he said, clearing his throat, “I’d like you to stay on, but I understand if that’s not something you’re willing to do after everything.” He was looking anywhere but at me.
I considered his offer; everything had changed since yesterday. I’d dreamed of freedom for years, but now that it lay at my feet, I didn’t know what to do with it. My parents were long gone, and my sisters had families of their own. I had nothing.
But that wasn’t true; I had Carlo.
“Carlo, look at me,” I urged. Reaching out, I took his face in my hands. “I have been here for you
your entire life, and I will be here for as long as you need me.”
“Thank you,” he said, the emotion in his eyes betraying the stern tenor of his voice.
“Don’t thank me, just be who I know you are in here,” I said, placing a hand on his chest. “That will be thanks enough.”
He placed his hand over mine and squeezed, but didn’t say anything in response.
“Let’s get you some breakfast,” I said, breaking the silence and shooing him out of the room.
It was a new day, a fresh start, and I didn’t plan on wasting it dwelling on the past. I’d cried the night before for the one I loved, for who I used to be, and for who I could have been, but today I’d live for who I was and what my new future held.
What a difference a day can make.
Epilogue
Seattle, Washington
March, 2011
Elena
I padded down the hallway toward Carlo’s office, the same office that once belonged to his father. Despite how many times the room had been made over and repainted, the memories that stained the walls still had the power to bring me back in time. My skin crawled with the sensation of his hands roaming my body like tendrils of fog ghosting over my flesh.
I shook the feeling as I grew closer and voices drifted through the open door.
“Tell me you finally have something solid.” Carlo’s deep timbre rose above the din of voices.
“We got him with the bug I planted in his burner a couple of days ago,” someone said. I couldn’t tell if it was Angelo or Antonio by the voice alone. They both sounded so similar, but if what he said was any indication, it was probably Angelo; he tended to be the more tech-savvy one of the group.
I laughed to myself, remembering Angelo having to show me how to use the fancy new phone Carlo had given me for Christmas last year after witnessing me take a call from one of my sisters on the dated flip phone I’d had for years. Angelo had pulled at his hair so much while trying desperately to make me understand what an ‘app’ was; I was surprised he had any hair left after everything was said and done.
