I shake my head. “No. I have a place. Me. Personally. That no one knows about.”
I have a lot of places, actually.
The De Luca family is my family. I love every single one of my siblings and my extended family.
But watching your grandfather get slammed behind bars for RICO charges at the tender age of five does something to you.
When you know that your brother is going to inherit the family’s money, the power, everything, and you’re a third son who is out in the world on your own…
Well.
There are only a few options for guys like us.
One is to go all in.
Devote everything to the family. Be there when they need you, be the guy who does everything so that you make yourself invaluable.
From irrelevant to indispensable.
That pretty much went out the window for me when I saw my Uncle Andrei get put behind bars. Taking the fall, as he was supposed to.
He was a third son too.
So, when I started making real estate investments, I didn’t do it for my family.
I did it for me.
And now…
Well.
It’s a good thing Marco doesn’t know about the properties I own. No one does.
Not even Gia.
Keeping her from finding out has been a nightmare. She’s really good at what she does.
Annoyingly so, sometimes.
Now, I’m going to have to let her in on this little secret. And once I let her in, I have to tell her about all of it.
I look at her. “Gia. I have a place. It is not a family place. But we can hide. Do you trust me?”
She takes one minute to study me. Her brown eyes study mine.
And she nods. “Yes.”
* * *
The whole way to the little row house that I bought about two years ago, Gia is dead silent.
If the man driving us has any questions, he doesn’t ask them, which I’m grateful for.
My Dutch is barely conversational, but Gia’s relatively fluent. She gives him the directions that I relay, and we manage to hunker down as he starts to drive.
The taxi brings us about a half mile away from my house.
I carry Gia the rest of the way. Curled in my arms, I can feel her shaking with the cold.