Page 2 of Useless Love

My eyes widen from the serious tone of his threat. But before I can plead with Father to keep a level head, his cell phone rings.

Father snatches it off his desk and shouts, “What?”

I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but Father’s words are all I need to understand. His words are venomous.

“Which two sons did you kill? Spray some more bullets and weaken their entire fucking organization. Tomorrow, meet me here. I have a plan.”

When he ends the call, it’s like a flip is switched and he’s completely focused on his family again. With his plans for revenge enacted, he’s back to thinking about his dead son. “Come, princess,” he says to me softly. “Let’s go find your mother.”

We leave his office and find Arrianna and Mother sitting in a front room, a dim light making them glow a somber orange.

Father pulls Mother into his arms and holds her tight. “I’m sorry about our boy.”

This causes Mother to start weeping again as he leads her to their bedroom. I turn to speak to my sister, but Arianna simultaneously marches from the room. I’m not even sure if she heard my question: “Are you ok?”

Victoria had been lingering in the shadows. She walks to me and hugs her waist. “You know how Arianna is.”

Turning to face my little sister, I reply, “I do. She will hate the whole world, especially Father, and take it out on most of us in the next few months.” Though we’re twins, she has always been the tougher one. Also, the most reckless.

Victoria and I embrace. Though it’s already midnight, neither of us wants to sleep—we’ll only have nightmares about our dead brother. Instead, we head to the movie room. I want to simply forget everything and watch a movie until my eyes are too heavy to stay open, but my intentions crumble the moment I sit in one of the large leather seats. Just last night, Luca sat next to us in this very room.

I let the tears fall, not even caring about wiping them away. “Luca is gone,” I say, part of me still trying to understand.

Victoria shakes her head, her voice thick with emotion. “It could be Nico next. Or Father. Us. We could be next, Gaia. That’s the price we pay, being born into the family business. Sometimes I wish—”

“Do you really?” I cut in.

“You don’t,” Nico says, and I flinch. He had been sitting in the corner this entire time and I hadn’t noticed. He scrubs a hand over his face, his brown eyes bloodshot just like Father’s. “If you both had the opportunity to leave right now,” he continues, “I fucking know none of you would.”

I lower my gaze to my feet, kicking off my sneakers because I feel suffocated. Nico is right—we wouldn't leave. I just wish this wasn't such a difficult life; I wish my brothers weren't dead. I think all any of us want is to be happy.

Is that even possible in this lifestyle?

Nico must be in the mood to vent, because he continues, “Do you even know why Luca died? He found a Gaudino asshole raping Arianna.”

I’m speechless, but Victoria is able to say, “What? Why didn’t she say anything? Did the man—”

“No. He didn’t take her virginity, but that doesn’t matter. Luca was right for trying to kill him. God rest his soul.”

I want to run to my sister, but I know she’ll only push me away. Victoria knows that too, so we’re better off staying here. Arianna has always been the tough one, even at moments like this.

Still, I weep silently for Arianna as Victoria grabs the remote and starts a movie. The three of us remain silent, mourning the loss of another brother, just like our parents are in their bedroom. Just like Arianna is, in her own way.

***

The next few days are a blur. I keep checking my phone to remind myself of the day because it feels like Luca was killed only moments ago. But life goes on, time passes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Two days after that horrible night, I’m sitting at the funeral home in a small nook with Mother. While Father has been making business negotiations, Mother and I have been planning Luca’s memorial. Well, Mother has been trying—she’s still too stricken with grief to do much. Myself and the funeral coordinator have been handling the bulk of the planning.

Mother, in her simple black dress, flips a page of the casket catalog. She snaps the cover shut and clenches her jaw. “A mother isn’t supposed to bury her kids like this,” she says. A moment later, she flings the catalog onto the floor.

I hurry to her side, kneeling beside her chair and stroking her hand. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Don’t say that. It will never be okay until your father puts a permanent end to this war. He killed two of them—two—and they’re looking for revenge as we speak. But it still won’t bring back…” Her words end in a sob as a few of our guards shift uncomfortably nearby.

“I’ll find the perfect casket, Mother. I remember the best ones from the last time we…” I snap my mouth shut. Now I’m thinking about all of my lost brothers again and can’t stop my own tears.

Why isn’t Arianna here? I’m really no use to anyone. I want to comfort my mother, but all I ever end up doing is crying myself. I should be better at consoling her by now. I’ve had unwanted practice from all the deaths—from the loss of my brothers Franco and Diego. Yet, I still can’t figure out the right words to make any of this better. Maybe nothing can ever make it better—we simply learn to coexist with our scars.

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