Page 30 of Bittersweet Endings
“Carmine.” Matteo’s hand snapped to my arm, holding me in place.
But I didn’t look at him. I looked ather.And just like that, the mask slipped again. Her mouth dropped in mock surprise, a hand delicately placed to her chest, like I’d brokenherheart.
“See?” she whispered. “She’s inside your head, son. Corrupting you. Poisoning you. But we—your father and I—we arenotyour enemy.”
She continued to clutch her chest, gasping for air like she was the one being suffocated by the bullshit this family caused. Like I was the villain in her tragedy. Like I didn’t grow up with the weight of my father’s fists, his fucked-up words, or her neglect pressing into my every waking moment.
“Watch what you say, Mother.” My patience was running thin.
“Are you pickingher?” She shook her head. “No, I forbid it, Carmine.”
I had no words. Words didn’t work with her—with my father. Words were twisted, flipped, repurposed to suit whatever story she’d told herself so she could confidently look the other way. But now she was looking directly at me.
“After everything we’ve done for you?—”
My laugh was bitter and sharp. “Everything you’ve donetome.” That landed. I saw it. I felt it. And it was goddamn invigorating.
I saw a flicker of something real. Guilt, anger, recognition. But it was gone just as fast. Buried beneath layers of practiced poise and arrogance. Still, she wanted to put on a show and staggered back like I’d hit her. Like my words were weapons when they were merely the truth.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispered. “Carmine, boys, we gave you a good life. Far better than what I had before I married your father and?—”
I cut her off, not giving a damn how she saw it. Because I could only focus on the one thing that came out of her mouth.Fair.That word. Like my father ever played fair in how he treated us. Like I hadn’t spent years patching up thelessonshe’d beaten into us. Like she didn’t teach me that her love for a monster was more important than us.
I let out a slow breath. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Her face twisted, switching between sadness and rage. Almost like she couldn’t decide which would force me to fall back in line. “So that’s it? You’re throwingil famigliaaway?”
I shrugged Matteo loose. “Listen to me,Mother.Your husband killed my uncle.”
She flinched, and my jaw dropped.
“You knew. You fuckin’ knew.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. For the first time in my life, my mother didn’t have some bullshit to spew. If she didn’t watch her step, I’d bury her in the same goddamn grave with her beloved.
“Now, now.” She stood, straightening her blouse. “Carmine, you know better than anyone about the rumors that surround us.”
My hand wrapped around her throat, and I tugged her towards my face. Lorenzo and Matteo tried stepping in, but I ignored them. My grip just tight enough to be a message.
“Do. Not. Lie. To me,” I ground out. “You knew. And you’vebeen covering for him for years. Covering for him oneverythinghe’s done. Even to your own children.”
The light and defiance flickered out of her eyes. For once, I could see that guard of hers drop and vulnerability came in. If I were a weaker man, I’d feel sorry for her. But I knew for a fact that he didn’t treat her the way he treated us. She was his goddamn queen.
Not anymore. They were both dead to me.
“Get the fuck out of here before I do something I regret.” I let her go, and she stepped back, holding her throat while coughing like I’d squeezed the life out of her. “Go ahead and tell Daddy if you want. I don’t care. But be careful he doesn’t grow tired of you too.”
She grabbed her bag and walked past us, without looking us in the eye. Her silence and dismissal shouted the sad truth. Once again, she’d take his side.
“Are we all fuckin’ stupid or did we honestly never see therealher before?” Lorenzo asked.
“Appears to have the same disposition as JP. Crazy and greedy,” Matteo muttered.
“Spread the word,” I addressed one of my men at the door. “She isn’t welcome in any establishment me or my siblings own. Got it?”
He nodded, typing away on his cell.
“If they’re going to New York, they’re going to start a war,” Matteo repeated what I already knew.
