Something about the way he says that last part feels loaded. Like there’s history in it. Pain. A story he won’t finish.
“You’re weak,” he sneers. “Just like your brothers. Lorenzo?—”
“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t bring him into this.”
“He wanted to get initiated first…”
I grit my teeth, hating the story he’s about to tell.
“He begged, even though he was too young,” my father continues. “Even though he was my last son and shouldn’t have been the first to get initiated, I was proud that at least one of my sons wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary.”
For the first time in a long time, I see a broken expression in my father’s eyes.
“But you know how La Mano Nera works. To prove loyalty, you don’t just kill anyone. You kill someone tied to your enemy… or someone they choose,” he recites one of the Society initiation rules. “He thought it would be like killing a rabbit.”
My heart hammers against my chest.
“Then they gave him a name. It was his best friend.”
We all knew what happened after that.
“He killed his best friend and then ran away like a coward because he couldn’t live with himself.”
“You wouldn’t understand what it means to live with guilt,” I say, taking a step toward the desk still separating us. “Some people have a heart, you know.”
But I know my father isn’t as heartless as he pretends to be. There’s a heart buried deep in that cold, dark mind of his. It has just been twisted and scarred by everything he’s had to do to keep the family legacy alive.
“I don’t care what you think about me,” he grits. “You think I don’t feel guilt? You think I don’t regret what I’ve done to this bloodline? That my sons turned out to be weak, sentimental fucks? Lorenzo ran. Elio turned into a silent shell. Marco has been a goddamn joke for half his life. Thankfully, he came to his senses. And now you,” his eyes burn into mine, “you’ve fallen in love with the one girl I should have put in the ground years ago.”
“That girl is carrying my child,” I say.
The silence that follows my announcement is heavy, thick with disbelief, anger, and something else I can’t read.
I take another step until my knees hit the desk, until it’s the only thing keeping us apart.
“I will fight for Lia, and I will fight for my child.”
Something breaks in his expression. He drops into his chair like the weight of what I said finally landed. Then he opens a drawer, pulls out a cigar, and lights it with a silver Zippo.
“You’re banished to the east wing, effective immediately.” His voice is low and quiet. “Until I decide what to do with you.”
The east wing is one of the oldest wings in the estate, one that hasn’t had any occupants in decades.
I slip my hands into my pockets, accepting his sentence without a word. I’ve already accepted the consequences.
When he raises the cigar to his lips, I realize I’ve been dismissed.
I turn to leave. I walk over to the door and twist the doorknob.
“Pray La Mano Nera doesn’t find out,” he mutters. “Because if they do… You won’t be the only one they come for. Your lover. Your child. Yourbrother.”
I don’t wait to hear the rest.
I walk out before he finishes.
The east winghas been cleaned for my stay, but the faint smell of dust still lingers in some areas. My new room looks like something straight out of a historical movie. The furniture is antique. Forgotten paintings line the walls. Ghosts live in the shadows.
I don’t care. I need some silence in my life anyway.