The Italian

The men—his men. They knew. They kept his dirty secret for him. For two years, I’ve worked beside these men, day in, day out, and not a word has ever been mentioned about her…

About his other son.

The one I don’t know.

With a heavy heart, I wash my hair, brush my teeth, and desperately wish that yesterday hadn’t happened. The memories of my father are forever tainted. Was he watching the clock every time he was with me? Was he counting down the hours until he could leave to go and see them?

I knew my grandfather had multiple mistresses; everyone knew. He was a typical Italian bastard who wouldn’t come home for days. I expected nothing more from him. It was just how it was. He and my grandmother were hardly on speaking terms. She lived a life of luxury and was happy enough with that.

But my father… he adored my mother. He doted on her… loved her. To know that he spent thirty years loving another woman on the side hurts. I feel betrayed.

So, so betrayed.

Did our family mean nothing to him? It mustn’t have. If he loved us, he wouldn’t have strayed.

I think back to all our times at Lake Como, where he brought me and my brothers to our house here, while my mother always stayed at home.

He came here to see her.

Did he sneak her in once we were all asleep?

My stomach rolls as I get a visual of him having sex with someone else in his bedroom upstairs, while my mother waited for him at home.

Fury begins to pump through my bloodstream like never before. He never told me because he knew I would hate him for it.

Everyone knew. Even Sophia. She went to the funeral. He had a second funeral. What the fuck?

Everyone knew to keep it from me. I feel so stupid, and I’ve never been so humiliated.

I turn the shower off in disgust. I dry myself and walk back into the room to see my blonde angel still fast asleep. She’s lying on her side, and I crawl in behind her and pull her into my arms. I kiss her temple and she slowly wakes. She turns her head and kisses me.

“Morning,” I whisper.

“Mmm,” she moans. “You’re alive.”

I smirk.

“Were you trying to kill yourself yesterday?”

I kiss her neck as I feel my arousal begin to creep in.

“I thought you were going to die of alcohol poisoning,” she says.

“Sorry.” I hate that she saw me like that. “I don’t know what happened.”

She rolls toward me and leans up on her elbow. She’s all mussed up and looks so beautiful.

“Can we finish our conversation now?” she asks.

I frown. “What conversation?”

“You told me everything, Rico.”

I stare at her as panic begins to scream through my system. “About what?”

“I know about the crimes you’re involved in. I know about the Ferrara family business.”

My face falls. I’m rendered speechless.