Page 59 of All Your Lies
Reluctantly, I turn and make my way toward my future father and mother-in-law. I kiss Alexa’s mom on the cheek. “Beautiful as always, Mrs. Rossi.”
“You’re going to make my girl happy, right?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“I will, or die trying.”
“That’s what I like to hear. I’m going to leave you boys and go see your mom,” she says before swaying away. She and my mother have been friends since they were children. They’re both ecstatic about our arrangement. Let’s just hope I can get Alexa to share the same sentiment.
“Why is that slimeball dancing with my daughter?” Mr. Rossi asks while looking over at where Marco and Alexa are dancing.
They’re in deep discussion, and it gnaws on my nerves not to know what they’re talking about.
“I’ll keep an eye on it.”
“You do that,” he says in his no-nonsense tone. “Have all the necessary preparations been made for the wedding and theevents that come after? I want to make this transition seamless for her,” he says as he gazes over at Alexa, who’s laughing at something Marco says.
I fucking hate it. Beneath a thin veneer of confidence, my insecurities lurk, ready to pull me under if I’m not careful.
“There has been a challenge to her right. She will need you to protect her.”
“What do you mean?”
“On the night of her attack, she didn’t achieve her first kill. I killed him,” he murmurs.
I glance at Mr. Rossi, absorbing his words in silence.
Before we come of age and assume leadership, we must accomplish a series of tasks. High on the list is a kill.
I too was in disbelief when I got the news of her kill while in prison. Not because she lacks ability, but because her heart is pure.
“Nothing will ever happen to her.”
Mr. Rossi nods.
“Managing both houses won’t be easy for you. I have taught her all that I can, but there is still much more for her to learn.”
“I can handle it.”
“Don’t fuck it up, or I’ll kill you.” I regard him, knowing this isn’t an idle threat. He means every word.
“If I fuck it up, I’ll let you.”
“Good, I’m going to go get his slimy hands off my girl.”
“My girl,” I correct as I watch Mr. Rossi sweep in and take Alexa from Marco.
As I enter my father’s office the following morning, the weight of our last conversation before my incarceration comes rushing back, filling the room with an overwhelming senseof suffocation. I remember pleading with my father. My voice trembled with fear and uncertainty as I begged him to reconsider his decision to make me turn myself in for a crime I didn’t commit.
Today, only he will be subject to fear or uncertainty.
From afar, I’ve been observing my father since my release. With his gray hair, expanding waistline, and wrinkles, it’s clear that time has left its mark on him.
“Gage,” he says, his voice strained as he struggles to stand.
“You can stay seated. From what I hear, you aren’t doing too well, Hector.”
“Father. I am your father, and you will address me as such.”
“I don’t have a father,” I say, surveying his office.
