Page 168 of Monster in Disguise

The scar healed nicely, though. Nicer than I would have expected. A reddish-pink line now mars my neck. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to hide it even with a turtleneck.

After I'd received that letter from Lina, I hadn't heard from her. Well, not directly. I'd borrowed Vlad's listening device, and I've been able to listen to some of her conversations with Enzo. Both Catalina and Claudia are doing well. From the snippets I'd heard, Lina started her own business, selling some of her fashion designs and creating custom pieces for people. I couldn't be prouder about that. She's finally taking life into her own hands.

And soon, I'll be able to join her too.

I put on a blazer and head to my therapy appointment. A lot had changed since I'd walked out of the hospital, grateful to be alive. I don't think I've ever put as much price on my life as I had when Lina had begged me to live, both for her and for Claudia. But I've since learned that before I can live for them, I also need to learn how to live for myself.

In the past, all of my attempts at getting therapy had been failures. Not that I'd been too disappointed, since I've always hated talking about myself. But this time, the therapist is born in the mafia and familiar with how things are done.

After I'd been discharged from the hospital, I continued seeing my old therapist for a couple of sessions, but things weren't working out. I couldn't be entirely truthful, and how could she help me if she had no idea what the extent of my trauma was? Around that time, I'd talked again with Guerra, who'd extended his apologies for his brother, saying he had no idea what he was up to. We'd also realized that Franco had been working for some time with Nicolo, and they had planned to take over the leadership within their families. The attack wrongfully attributed to the Irish had been their doing, taking advantage of the terrible reputation the Gallaghers already had.

I'd also been trying to fix the mess within the famiglia, and Francesco had been invaluable in carrying out my orders and acting as my proxy. During one talk, he'd brought up his eldest daughter, Giulia. A clinical psychiatrist with a few years of experience, Giulia was the answer to my prayers. I hadn't been her first mob client, and certainly not the last.

At my first appointment, the conversation had flowed. She hadn't been fazed by anything I'd said – or at least she hadn't shown it. A few more sessions and she'd had a couple of diagnoses for me. From PTSD to depression, she'd tackled my self-harm tendencies and my insomnia. I don't claim tohave been suddenly cured, but it feels better to know there's a scientific explanation for all of my episodes, and not a demonic possession as my mother had called it. In fact, Giulia had suggested that the bulk of my trauma comes from my mother. My father's abuse had only added to it. With her constant rejections and religious fanaticism, she'd instilled in me that I'm not worthy of anything. It had been then easy for my father to mold me into what he wanted.

The session this time focuses onthatnight, and the source of my biggest shame. I walk Giulia through everything that happened, and she listens attentively, not betraying any disgust for me — what woman wouldn't feel like that for what I did?

"I see." She pushes her glasses up her nose and makes a few notes. "What do you think would have happened if you didn't do that? Tell me your honest opinion."

"Father would have made good on his promise. He would have given Catalina to his men. Or... because he was unpredictable, he could have killed her too."

"Do you think you could have done anything else then?"

I shake my head, closing my eyes. "No," I breathe out.

"There are two things that I see, Marcello. If you hadn't done it, someone else would have. By doing it yourself, and I'm not excusing your actions, but you had control over the situation. You took care of her in a way that no one else would have. You made sure she got out alive."

"Yes, but..."

"What does she say about this?" Giulia suddenly asks, and I lower my head in shame.

"She says she forgives me, but I can't fathom how she could ever do that."

"Why? You don't trust her? Trust her word?" She leans forward, eyes trained on me, challenging me.

"I do," I whisper.

"But you can't forgive yourself." She nods, turning to her notebook and jotting down something. "You can't change the past, Marcello. No matter how much you wish it didn't happen, it did. But that doesn't mean that the man you are today is still the man you were before. Or that you can't change for the better. The past is the past. Let it go. You can still change the future."

"How can I ever feel deserving of her, knowing what I did?" I ask, my voice breaking.

"You won't. But that will make you try harder every day. Love her more every day soshefeels that you are deserving of her. The ever-trite adage, actions speak louder than words."

"I can do that," I say confidently. "I'd do it regardless, because she deserves the world."

"Then show that to her. A wise man once said that every saint has a past, and every sinner a future. Make that future yours."

I nod numbly because I feel like I can do it. Turn my life around. Change a little day by day.

"Thank you." I stand up to leave, the clock showing that our session's ended.

"Make sure you recommend me to your other killer buddies; I give great discounts." She winks at me as I leave, and I shake my head, chuckling.

I can't believe that a mafioso's daughter would do this type of work, but I can see the usefulness of it. I still can't help but wonder how Francesco had allowed such a thing, with her being unmarried at her age. It's not at all the traditional way, and it gives me hope for the future—for my daughter and my sisters.

I'm about to head back home when I get a sudden phone call from a terrified Venezia.

"Slow down, Venezia. What happened?"

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