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Giuseppe pondered for a minute and then a minute longer. He didn’t want any harm to come to his brother. He loved Massimo. It was undeniable how he felt, so his murder wasn’t an option. If something happened to cause his brother’s demise, an act of God, then that would be unavoidable and not his own fault. Short of that, he had to have another option so he could ascend to a powerful place in the family, not just play second fiddle.
Giuseppe pondered for a while, trying to come up with a foolproof plan that would change his trajectory into one he could willingly accept. Giuseppe started to consider the state of Massimo’s marriage. It had been rocky at first, but there had been somewhat of a turnaround. Then, there was the problem with Isotta and fertility that may come to pass. Giuseppe hoped that wouldn’t be the case, as a good brother-in-law ought. Yet it did give him a possible opening that he didn’t really want to consider but did.
He allowed his mind to wander, thinking back. A smile eased across Giuseppe’s lips as his mind landed on Valentina, Isotta’s sister. He had run into her a time or two in passing in high society circles. Giuseppe paid attention to her because she was naturally beautiful, incredibly attractive, and a physical temptation, but he didn’t regard her too much. Giuseppe had accepted his fate and didn’t naturally pursue her even though he was attracted to her. Yet, Giuseppe allowed his thoughts to trek back to a place he had seen her before, bringing Valentina into view and remembering how he felt the first time he saw her.
She might be a possibility if he pursued her. But he had to find her unattached and unencumbered to another. Giuseppe had to find Valentina willing to be pursued. He had an idea about how to reach her, through her sister, of course. But he would have to be strategic. Much more time had passed than Giuseppe originally thought. He decided to relegate his thoughts again and check in on Massimo to see if he was awake. Giuseppe made his way back to his brother’s door and lightly knocked. He waited, listening in to see if he was invited in.
“Come.”
Giuseppe startled a little at his brother’s responsiveness, but he didn’t hesitate to open the door and enter.
“May I?” Giuseppe asked as he stepped inside Massimo’s layer.
Massimo waved him in, being careful not to do so too boisterously.
“I wanted to follow up with you if it’s okay,” Giuseppe said as he tentatively crossed the room.
Massimo sat up higher in the bed and waived him over so he could fully pay attention to what his brother had to say.
Giuseppe crossed the room and stood next to the chair that sat next to Massimo’s bed.
“He’s dead.”
Massimo perked a little, but not overwhelmingly. He didn’t want to believe his brother without proof. He had been erroneously so sure before.
“Do you know for sure?”
Masimo watched as Giuseppe nodded his head. Massimo felt momentary relief, but he didn’t allow himself to buy into it completely. Not yet.
“How can you be certain?” Massimo inquired.
“I confirmed verbally. I sent a few of our people to the hospital, who discovered what floor he was on. They were there when the pronouncement was made, and then they confirmed it. It took some finagling, but they confirmed. Alessandro is dead,” Giuseppe reassured.
Massimo heard what his brother said, and he noted his brother’s conviction. Massimo stared at his brother initially, but then he looked past Giuseppe into the space that existed just past him. He’s dead. That motherfucker Alessandro is dead, Massimo thought to himself. He breathed out heavily and breathed in evenly as he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders and his heart. He could finally breathe fully. Giuseppe noted the relief on his brother’s face. He felt comfortable enough to sit down on the seat close to his brother’s bed.
“That is exceptionally good news,” Massimo said.
Giuseppe allowed his brother a moment to relish in the pleasure of that.
“Can I shift the subject?”
“Sure,” Massimo agreed. He didn’t have the preoccupation of thought he once had.
Giuseppe wanted to be careful in how he broached the subject.
“How is Isotta doing?”
Massimo’s brow was slightly wrinkled.
“She’s doing okay, I suppose. She hasn’t come back here as of yet. Why do you ask?”
“I had a question that I wanted to ask her,” Giuseppe explained as he felt the need to do so.
“About what?” Massimo inquired as he thought Giuseppe having a question for his wife was a bit odd.
“What kind of question?”
Giuseppe heard hesitancy and serious inquiry in his brother’s response, so he was careful with how he answered.
