Page 13 of Luciano (Belles & Mobsters 1)

“Unless, she wants the world to believe she is dead,” Luca countered, “and her uncle is the only way she can get her hands on it.”

And I thought about that too. Goddamn it, I needed to get my hands on my wife and find out all their damn secrets. Their plans.

Chapter Six

Grace

The sounds of the waves crashing along the shores of the little island that became our home was all around us, mixing with the smell of the sea. Sitting on the small balcony, overlooking the water, I sipped on my glass of wine. I felt at peace here. I didn’t think I could find happiness again, but right at this moment, it felt pretty damn close to it. Even with the paranoid feelings I’d had when I rushed out of the market and barricaded Matteo and myself in the house.

It was stupid, I knew it. If either my uncle or my husband found us, we’d be dead before we knew what hit us. We would never see it coming. My uncle was a sick, twisted old man that got off on power and torturing humans.

Mom just finished her performance at Metropolitan Opera House in New York city. I headed backstage to see her. I felt hurt and anger in my chest, which never happened when it came to my parents.

Hearing my mom sing her last song and dedicate it to a man in the audience, someone I have never heard of. A man! It didn’t make any sense at all. It was my parents’ song. Did she not love Dad anymore?

Roxette’s “Listen to your heart” was Mom and Dad’s wedding song, a memory of their love that endured hardships. Neither one of them ever told me what those were, but whatever it was, it always put worry on Dad’s face and fear on Mom’s. They told me it was what sealed them together - listening to their own hearts. So why did Mom dedicate it to another man?

The shuffle of the crew of producers, various orchestra musicians, stage managers, and technical staff made it too crowded.

“Hey Grace,” the stage manager called out to me, a wide, happy smile on his face. I guess that meant my mother’s performance was a hit. But something didn’t sit well with me. Didn’t they know that my mother sang a song that was meant for Dad and she dedicated it to a stranger? That wasn’t right!

“Hello, Mr. Tony,” I greeted him. Benefit of spending a lot of time here; I knew everyone, every single member by their first and last name. “Have you seen my mom?”

“She’s in her dressing room.”

“Thanks.” I waved him goodbye and kept on going. Every so often, I’d bump into another backstage worker, greet them, and carry on, determined to talk to my mom. She always said I could ask her any questions or talk to her about anything that troubled me.

Well, this troubled me.

As I neared Mom’s dressing room, I heard raised voices. My pulse sped up with fear. Whose voices were those? I thought I recognized Mom’s voice, but I wasn’t sure. I never heard her yell.

My parents never raised their voices. Not at each other, not at me. Yes, I heard my dad use a grumbled elevated voice at his advisors but it was always with frustration. This sounded more threatening, ugly, mean. What were they saying? I couldn’t make out the words. My heart pounded in my chest, an unfamiliar feeling of fear increasing with each step closer to the cracked door to Mom’s dressing room.

“You will never have her.” Yes, that was Mom’s voice. “Never! As long as there is a breath left in me or Kennedy, you’ll never have her.”

“You just wait and see,” the stranger’s voice was dark and threatening. My ears rang, as my breathing hitched. What were they talking about? “You better listen to your fucking heart and save Kennedy. Because there is nothing you can do to save her.”

“Get out,” she screamed, her beautiful voice that awed the world shaking, and for the first time ever, I heard a terror in my mother’s voice. “Get out. Kennedy will hear of this.”

I leaned forward and could see the tall man through the open door. There were two of them in there, one older and one younger, but only the older one was talking. Instinctively, I knew the older one was more dangerous.

“He knows he can’t do anything about this.” He smirked, disgust on his face. “You two listened to your hearts instead of reason, now it is time to pay the price. You two can have more children. Be smart and say goodbye to this one.”

I watched through the crack of the open door as my mom’s hand flew through the air and connected with the man’s cheek. Smack.

His face turned dark, his whole posture threatening and he took a step, towering over her.

“Aria-”

“Get the fuck out!” I froze in fear as I watched the man’s hand curl around her slim neck.

“It is as easy as this,” he growled. “Snap your neck, and it’s over.”

I took a step forward, everything inside of me screaming to help my mom. As if I could stop him. The floor creaked under my black Mary Jane black shoes. I was still in my school uniform. Both of their eyes snapped to me. One full of fear and one with a look I couldn’t quite describe. Like he was evaluating me.

“Mom?” I didn’t like this man. There should be guards here. Where were Dad’s men that always watched over her and me?

“You must be Grace.” I swallowed hard, remaining glued to my spot, my eyes darting between my mom’s terrified face and this man’s cruel one. I had no idea why but I kept my mouth closed, refusing to say anything to him. “Nice uniform. Good little Catholic girl. That will come in handy.”

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