Page 39 of Sins and Secrets

“Hey,” I say, my voice soft as I squeeze his hand back. “You look like you’ve seen better days. What did I tell you about running around like you’re a thug at your age?”

Papa rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching around his breathing tube. He tries to shrug but winces from the pain.

“You don’t have to do anything other than rest.” I smile and lean forward, my elbows resting on his bed. “We do have some things to talk about, though.”

His blue eyes search mine as his eyebrow raises slightly. I can see the question in his eyes, and though I don’t know how to bring up leaving the mafia with him again, I have to.

At least he can’t argue with me if there’s a tube down his throat.

As much as I hate seeing Papa like this, I know that he would want me to find the humor in the situation. There is nothing he loves more than a little dark humor.

“Papa, you know that we have to be done with this shit. I’m working on a way to get us out. I have some money coming in. Money that the mafia won’t come after. We can finally move away. You can retire and I can start building the resort I’ve always dreamed of.”

Papa shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. I glare at him and sigh. This is going to be yet another uphill battle with him.

“I know that you and Alessio have been best friends since you were kids, but you have to get over that now. Sure, he might be here nearly every day to visit you, but he’s the one who put you here.”

He shakes his head, dropping my hand and trying to sit up. Papa groans and falls back against the pillows, frustration in his eyes as the beeping machines start to speed up.

“You need to relax,” I say as I stand up and fluff his pillows. “We have a lot to talk about, but I’m done arguing with you about this. I almost lost you, Papa. I’m not going to let it happen again. As soon as you’re better, we’re getting the hell out of here.”

Papa’s gaze is distant as he waves a hand at me. I sigh and run my hand through my hair, knowing that this is going to be more difficult than I hoped it would be.

With all the pain medication they’re pumping through his body, I don’t know how much of our conversation he’s going to remember. Even if he remembers it, I’m willing to bet on him pretending not to.

It’s the same argument that we’ve been having for years. I think that it’s time to go and he insists on staying. His loyalty is to the mafia, not to me. When I try to call him out on it, he starts yelling.

It’s the only time in my life that Papa ever yells at me.

I’m not backing down this time, though. One way or another, we’re getting out. I will tie him up and throw him in the back of my car if that’s what it takes to get him to go with me.

As his eyes start to close, I sit back down and consider all my options. Whatever plan I come up with for the day of our departure has to be one that can be executed seamlessly.

I only get one chance to escape, and Papa is going to make it that much more difficult.

It’s getting late when I get home with the groceries, exhausted and frustrated. Papa has been weighing on my mind all day and sitting beside him while he slept did nothing to ease the worry. I didn’t think that life was going to be this difficult when I got older, but I should have expected it.

Now, I have to walk through that front door, plaster on a fake smile, and pretend that my life isn’t ripping apart at the seams because I have a damn contract to see through.

I take my time getting out of the car and grabbing my bags from the back. The longer I can delay going inside and talking to Alessio, the better. I’m sure that he’s heard about my papa waking up, but I don’t want to talk about it.

Not yet.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a woman says as I walk through the front door with bags of groceries dangling from each arm. “You have that little whore living here. You think that I didn’t notice her things when I went upstairs? You’re supposed to be finding a wife, not sleeping around with a woman nearly twenty years younger than you.”

“She’s not a whore, first of all. Second, I love you, but who do you think you are?” Alessio asks, his voice booming through the house.

It feels wrong to be standing in the entryway listening to them yell at each other, but I can’t walk away. My blood is boiling as I slide off my shoes and put them on the rack.

“I’m your mother. If I want to come over and check on you, then that is what I’m going to do,” Alessio’s mother says, her voice shrill. “You have been living with a young woman who only wants you for your money. That makes her a whore. Don’t even bother trying to lie to me, Alessio. I know what goes on here, even if you don’t want me to.”

“If you are going to keep calling her a whore, you can leave. I’m not going to tolerate the disrespect in my household.”

“I’m your mother.”

“And that does not give you free rein to insult and disrespect people who live in my home!”

I take a deep breath before walking into the main section of the house and heading straight for the kitchen. Alessio and his mother are standing in the living room looking murderous.

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