Page 60 of Luca

“Let me walk you out,” I say as Alessia grabs her purse from the counter and opens the front door.

“Things have changed between you two,” she comments as I close the door behind me.

I don’t give her any sort of explanation. It’s not as though she’s asking, just voicing her observations.

“I’m worried about her.”

She nods in understanding. “A lot has changed for her. She told me about the conversation with her brother. It shouldn’t, but it never ceases to amaze me the cruelty in this world, in this life. I had no idea Francesco wasn’t her real father.”

The memory of that phone call still sends molten heat through my veins. How cold he was to her, how amused he was to be crushing her world more than he and his father already had. Knowing it was for nothing more than to torture her mother into her afterlife.

“She isn’t…handling it well. Barely sleeps, has nightmares. She doesn’t talk to me much about it. I don’t know, maybe she thinks I won’t care or something.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it at all. She’s most likely worried about it bringing up pieces of your past that were painful to deal with. You two are kind of in the same boat. Being lied to about who your real parents are, being kept from the truth for years. Your dad may have had different reasons, but it doesn’t take away the sting of betrayal.”

“It’s different for me, though. I had a happy childhood, and Frank genuinely loved me. Francesco never cared about Giada, only wanted to send his wife to her death with the knowledge that he was going to use her for his own gain. This life is the opposite of what Frank wanted for me.”

“Did you feel that way when you first found out? Did it matter to you that he kept you safe and loved you?”

I blow out a breath and shake my head. “No.”

“Talk to her about it. I think the two of you trying to spare each other’s feelings isn’t helping either one of you. Communication is key.”

“Is this marriage advice?”

“Sure as shit is. I’m an old pro now.” Alessia laughs and presses the button to call the elevator. “Maeve and Cormac are having a little birthday dinner for me next week. Maeve wants you and Giada there. I think Finn is making her back off a little to give you two some space, but she told him times up. My parents will be there, too.”

I think about Giada being there among the people her father trained her to fear and despise.

“Is it weird for your parents to spend time with the Monaghans even though your father pretty much hated them his entire life?”

The elevator doors open as Alessia considers my question. “I thought it would be, but I think they were more business rivals than anything else. Nothing like how the Monaghans or my father views the Cataldis. My father used to cuss up a storm when Finn poached deals. But he always respected him, even though he never admitted it. I’ll just say I’m glad we’re all on the same side now and leave it at that.” She steps into the elevator and holds my gaze before the doors close. “Talk to your wife, Luca.”

I smile and give her a little wave before she’s closed off from view and I head back into the penthouse.

Walking up the stairs, I find Giada curled under the blankets, still awake and facing me. She lifts the comforter, inviting me to lie down with her, and I notice she’s in one of my T-shirts. God, I love seeing her in my clothes. It sets off some primal instinct that screams mine.

I crawl in next to her and lie on my back, hauling her body so she’s draped over me, her cheek resting on my bare chest.

“How was shooting with Alessia?”

I feel her smile. “It was good. I never really got to know her even though we grew up in the same circles. The other families didn’t socialize much after a big trial sent a bunch of capos to prison about fifteen years ago. Only special occasions like weddings or funerals. Well, not Alessia and Finn’s wedding, obviously. But it’s nice having someone around who understands the traditions of the Italian Mafia compared to the Irish. My family was still different though.” She pauses and I feel the tension in her body. “Well, I guess they aren’t my family. Never really were.”

My hand lightly trails up and down her back in what I hope is a comforting gesture. “Yeah, I know a little something about that.”

“I feel like I was raised to be this person that doesn’t really exist. Like my entire life was a lie. I was never the daughter of Francesco Cataldi. It’s not like he showed me fatherly affection, either. But I was still loyal because I had to be, because no matter what, he was my father, and even though he was a shit dad, that meant something to me. Finding out that was all a lie, I don’t know…it makes me feel like that loyalty was stolen somehow. Does that make sense?”

“More than you know, sweetheart. When Frank told me who he really was and what he’d done, it was like this switch flipped in me. Suddenly, he went from being this great dad who did everything he could to raise me right to a monster who took everything from me. I suppose, in a way, he did. His lies are the reason I love him. Hell, I practically worshiped the ground he walked on. Honestly, if he hadn’t been sick, I don’t know that I would have ever spoken to him again.” I kiss the top of her head. “But we also had years of love between us. Nothing like what happened with your father.”

I’ve spent nearly a decade shoving those feelings in a box and keeping it locked tight. Being here, being at that meeting a few days ago, it’s another reminder of the person Frank was when he was a capo in the Cataldi organization. It’s so different from who he was when we lived in California. Constantine and Frank really were two different people. The same way I had to be when I came to Boston. I can tell myself I did the things I did because the end goal was justified, but I spent years having to stand by and watch innocent people get hurt. In a way, it made me understand my dad more and why he wanted me far from this world. I felt myself getting sucked deeper and deeper into the role I was playing. I felt the rot taking root in my soul. The same rot that consumed Francesco and Carlo. Had Giada not been there needing my help, needing me to be the man I was raised to be, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

“I’m mad at my mom, too,” she says softly, almost as though she’s ashamed to admit it. “She could have told the Monaghans what happened. She should have. What was she thinking leaving you with a criminal who killed your parents? It makes no sense to me.”

I spent a lot of time wondering about that, too. But I always go back to why Frank didn’t leave me on the Monaghans’ doorstep and disappear. “It was a bloody time for our families. When Frank told me he left with me because he didn’t want me growing up in this life, that the baby he saved was more valuable than being another soldier in this fight, it made sense to me. Now I know the Monaghans are different from what he thought, but at the time, he didn’t. Maybe your mom thought the same thing. Maybe that’s why she wanted to take you and Carlo and run. She didn’t want her kids growing up in a world that was trying to kill them.”

Giada hums. “Maybe.” She’s silent for a few moments. “Do you believe in fate, Luca?”

“I never gave it much thought. Why?”

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