***
When I landed in Chicago, my old bodyguard Mario was waiting for me. He wasn’t the most talkative person so we didn’t speak during the drive to my family home.
As I stepped up to the entrance door, my heart pounded in my chest like a drum. The last time I’d been here, the house had brimmed with sadness and death.
Mario opened the door for me and I stepped in. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be but I definitely didn’t feel at home here anymore. Was it my imagination or did the stench of disinfectant still linger in the corners?
“Where’s my father?” I asked quickly before my mind conjured up more craziness.
“In his office. He wants to see you right away.”
I doubted the reason for that was that he’d missed me. Mario headed off to take my luggage up to my room. I walked down the long corridor and knocked at Father’s door, trying to ignore the way my stomach twisted with nerves.
“Come in,” Father called.
I took a deep breath and slipped in. Fabi stood near the window. He had grown in the three months that I’d been gone and something about the way he held himself told me that wasn’t the only change in him. The last few months seemed to have taken a toll on him. It would have been better if Fabi had been allowed to go to Chicago with me for the summer, but naturally that had been out of the question.
Father sat behind his desk as usual. He didn’t bother getting up to hug me. But Fabi walked up to me and I wrapped my arms around him before he could decide he was too cool for affection. He was taller than me. I leaned back to take a look at his face.
I knew something was wrong the moment I saw Fabi’s expression. Recently Father had involved him more and more in the mob business, even though Fabi wouldn’t turn 13 for several more weeks. Had something happened? He couldn’t have been forced to kill someone already, right? The idea that my little brother might already be a killer turned my stomach into an icy pit.
“Sit,” Father said with a nod toward the armchair in front of his desk. Fabi immediately freed himself of my embrace, but what worried me more was that he made sure to keep his eyes on my chin.
“It’s good to see you back in Chicago. I trust Luca and Aria took good care of you?” Father asked.
No mention of Gianna, which wasn’t a huge surprise.
I sank down on the chair across from him. “Yes, they did. It was lovely.”
I tried to catch Fabi’s gaze; he’d returned to his spot at the window where he was busy avoiding my eyes, his hands balled to fists at his side and his lips a thin white line in his angry face. My stomach tied itself into a knot.
Father tapped his fingers against the smooth wood of the desk. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked almost ashamed. Fear gripped me. Again I darted a look at Fabiano but he was glaring at the floor.
The silence stretched between us until I was sure I’d suffocate. “You said to Luca that you wanted me here for a few parties?”
“That’s part of the reason. You need to become part of our social circles again.” Father paused, then he cleared his throat. He looked almost guilty. “Life must go on. Death is part of our existence but we must make sure that our family line stays strong.”
Where was he going with this?
“I’m going to marry again.”
I was torn between relief and shock. At least I wasn’t in trouble but I couldn’t believe, much less understand how he could be considering another marriage when Mother had been death for less than six months. “But—” I stopped myself. Nothing I could say would change a thing. It would only get me in trouble. “Who is she? Do I know her?”
There were a few widows in Father’s age I knew but I wasn’t sure if any of them were his type. Even thinking that made me feel guilty and I wasn’t even the one considering replacing Mother. Maybe Father was lonelier than he’d let on. I’d always thought he and Mother hadn’t cared much for each other but maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe he had loved her in some twisted way. Maybe he hadn’t been able to show it. Some people were like that.
Fabiano let out a low sound, drawing my eyes toward him, but he was still glowering at his feet. Which was probably for the best because Father gave him a look that sent a shiver down my back. I noticed a fading bruise on Fabi’s left temple, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there were more hidden beneath his clothing and if Father was responsible for all of them.
Father’s fingers took up their tapping again. “Ramona Brasci.”
I almost fell forward in my chair. “What?” I blurted. He had to be kidding. Ramona was only one year older than me. She could have been Father’s daughter. She’d gone to school with me, for God’s sake!
I peered at Fabiano again, needing him to tell me this was a joke, but his grimace was all the answer I needed. This was disgusting. Was this some kind of midlife crisis thing on Father’s part? I couldn’t even begin to understand how he could choose someone who could be his daughter.
“In turn,” Father continued evenly. “You are going to marry her Father Benito Brasci.”
And that’s when my whole world shattered. I could see it right before my eyes. All the images of a future with Romero, of happiness and smiles, of sweet kisses and endless nights of lovemaking splintering into tiny pieces, and they were replaced by something horrendous and dark. Something people whispered about in hushed voices because they were worried the horrors might become reality if they spoke about them too loudly. Not in my darkest nightmare had I imagined that Father would marry me off to an old man like Benito Brasci. I didn’t remember much about him, but I didn’t have to. Everything about this was wrong.