Page 15 of Tammaro DeLuca

“I wasn't supposed to fuck you. I couldn't help myself, though. Did you see yourself in that dress?”

“Was that little stunt with Cara a setup, too? Is she in on this?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Are you going to explain yourself?!” she shouted.

“No.” I put my hands in my pocket and waited for the shit show.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” She folded her arms over her breasts, and I watched her anger shift to disbelief.

“No.” When she just stared at me, I moved on. “Are we ready to christen the house yet?” I asked her.

“First off, my daughter is on the way. Second, we're never having sex again. Third, what do you mean, no?”

“Again, no. What do you mean, daughter?” I squinted at her.

“With the way you played me, don’t pretend like you don’t … Was this your plan all along? Are you trying to get back at me for that? I tried to find you.”

“Find me for what?” I turned to look at her straight on. “What are you talking about?”

“Ma, this house is enormous! Can you even call this a house? It’s like a small mansion! Did you finally get that promotion, and it came with a house?” A girl walked inside, around eighteen.

Maybe. She was tall, and I knew from experience that it could make you appear older. But this girl’s features seemed more childish than grown. So maybe sixteen. Except she was the spitting image of my mother when she was younger. Even her copper wavy thick, long hair was Mama’s. Her narrow nose, almond-shaped eyes, and the Italian jawline. Lips like her mother, along with her curves and her big personality, she was the perfect blend of our bloodlines. This was my daughter. That made her about fourteen, give or take a few months.

“You didn’t know.” Yolanda muttered.

Ignoring her, I walked over to my daughter to make sure this wasn’t a joke. Circling her, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I had a child. I couldn’t be upset that I didn’t know, because Yolanda hadn’t recognized me. I knew I looked different, but I’d silently hoped that something about me was memorable. Plus, I’d left suddenly, not giving her a way to contact me. I couldn’t expect a miracle that wasn’t possible.

“Uh, ma?” The girl looked at Yolanda.

I moved away to let them talk while I tried to get myself together. Part of me was excited, curious, and even hopeful. The rest was nervous, afraid, and worried. She was a girl. The daughter of a DeLuca family heir. Nothing but trouble would come from this. What had I done? They were better off without me. If I had known the girl existed, I would have found another way to bury Yolanda’s father.

“Ro, I’d like to introduce you to somebody.” Yolanda held the girl’s hand. “Asmaria, this is your father, Tammaro. Ro, this is your daughter.”

“Asmaria, is it?” I asked, trying to gather thoughts that would help me figure out what the fuck to do from here.

“Yes,” the girl nodded.

She deserved the world at her feet. Instead, I’d delivered only the worst parts because of what I was about. I didn’t have fourteen years with her to get her prepared for the dynasty she was born into. There wasn’t an older brother to help protect her. There was only me. Her mother officially hated me, so where did that leave this tattered family?

“I’m so sorry.” It was the only thing that I could say before I turned and walked out of the room, exiting the house.

My driver was waiting, and I got into the car. I didn’t look back at the house because I wasn’t ready to face my daughter to tell her the kind of man that I’d become.

“Where to?” The driver asked.

“Anywhere but here.” I pulled out a spinello and lit it. It was the first of the three that I smoked on the drive. With a clearer mind, I realized where I needed to go. To the one person who could help me prepare Asmaria for what was coming.

Knocking on the door, I half expected Martina to leave me standing outside. I hadn’t tried to build a relationship with either of my siblings because of what they represented. The life I didn’t have. When she came to the door, I expected her to turn me away. Instead, she welcomed me in and sat with me in the living room. She looked exhausted, and I felt bad for bothering her.

“I can come back another time.” I said to her.

“No. I work at night, so I’m not usually awake until two or three in the afternoon. The girl I hired to cover the weekends needed off today. I’d just gotten Amina down for a nap when you knocked.”

“So you were about to nap as well?”

“Yes, but family doesn’t turn family away. What’s up, brother?”

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