Maybe he was right. Maybe I was giving him a hard time.
My life hadn’t been so hard. I had my mother, after all, and we had money from my father. Even though he got killed when I was young, and my mother essentially wrote off the rest of the family, we were comfortable. I didn’t have to struggle.
I couldn’t begin to understand what Luca went through.
But then again, no matter what, that didn’t excuse turning into a killer for the mob. I just couldn’t excuse it.
All afternoon, I went back and forth like that. One second, I wanted to understand him, and almost felt like I could become him if given similar choices.
Then the next, I wanted to scream at him, wanted to shout at him.
Then the next, I wanted him to strip me down, kiss my neck, and truly, really, finally take care of me.
It was maddening.
That night, I finally had enough and emerged from my room. I put on a pair of jeans and a button-down white and black polka dot blouse, pulled my hair into some semblance of shape, and went downstairs.
Only to find Luca standing near the front window, peering out between the curtains.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Don’s on his way,” he said.
“Right now?”
He nodded. “Coming to talk about the Jalisco. And what your next moves are.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling numb. “I, uh, why didn’t you tell me?”
He shook his head. “Just found out myself.” He turned back from the window and frowned in my direction. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, looking away from him, remembering the way it felt when he’d kissed me.
“You don’t have to make any decisions, you know,” he said. “The Don will do that for you.”
I began to pace around the living room. “It’s not that simple,” I said. “You’re used to killing people. I just… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you want to hurt the men… that want to hurt you.” He shook his head and let a breath out. “Come on, Clair. You’re still doing this?”
I stopped pacing and threw up my hands. “Stop acting like I’m being a silly child.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re looking at me like you think I’m a moron.”
He made an exasperated grunt and waved me away. “Come on. That’s bullshit. I don’t think you even believe it.”
“That, right there. It’s dismissive.”
“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “You want to talk about this for real?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
“I think you’re lucky as hell,” he said. “You live in a world where you don’t have to worry about making these decisions. You have your pretty little insulated life, all safe and comfortable with your loving mother, and you’ve never had to think about hurting someone before they get a chance to hurt you.”
“Why is it all about how we grew up with you?” I asked.
“Because that matters more than you’re willing to admit.” I could see a hint of anger in his eyes. “You had it easy, little princess. Losing a father is hard, but losing everything? You have no clue what that’s like.”
“If you want me to feel sorry for you, it’s not going to happen.”
He snorted and made a face. “I don’t want your pity,” he said. “I just want you to be realistic. The Jalisco want to kill you, Clair. Or at least they want to take you captive and torture you until you give them everything they want. These are not kind men, these are not gentle, nice men. If you think I’m a monster, then you’ll be truly terrified of what they’re willing to do for their cartel.”
“So I should compromise then?” I asked. “I should just accept that the Leone family isn’t so bad and order a bunch of men killed for my own selfish gain?”
“Pretty much,” he said.
“I’m tired of arguing with you,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you’re spoiled.” He shook his head and looked out the window like he was sick of me. “You’re just spoiled.”
I stood there, so angry I could barely believe it. I spread out my arms and wanted to yell at him, to call him an asshole, to try and get him to see that he was talking about taking human lives like they were nothing. But I knew that was never going to happen or change.
Luca and I were just too different.
“He’s here,” he said, his voice flat. “Best behavior.”
“Best behavior? I’m not some teenager you get to order around.”
He glanced back at me, his face slack and tired. “Then stop acting like one,” he said. “And start seeing the world for what it is, Clair. This is a fucked-up place and no amount of your convenient morality’s going to change that.”
There was a knock at the door then it pushed open. The bald man named Roberto came in first, glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on me for only a moment like I was a piece of furniture before landing on Luca. He stepped inside and crossed his arms as Uncle Luciano came in next, limping with his cane, wearing a comfortable cream sweater and a pair of khaki slacks.