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“I should have done this when you were alive.”
My eyes felt hot and damp. Death was so final and regret so permanent.
“But that night fucked with me, Paps. You telling me the truth like that, it fucked with my head. I wasn’t like either of my brothers. Sergio felt duty bound, and Salvatore is just too good for this life. Me, I wanted it. Oh man, I wanted it so bad I could taste it.
“You’re right, you know. What you wrote in the will about me being the most like you. You’re right. Who’d have guessed it, huh, considering.”
I wiped my hand across my face and stood, made a short turn, and kicked some pinecones away while I got myself under control. I didn’t even hear her come up behind me until she slid her hand into mine and held it. Gia stood close but gave me space at the same time. This is what we’d become to each other. It was like we knew, like we felt each other’s needs, and neither of us could stand the pain of the other.
Gia, a woman I’d hurt, one I’d been paid to break, had given me a part of her soul and stolen a piece of mine.
“Okay?” she asked quietly.
I nodded, and we walked back to the grave.
“I love you, old man. I miss you, and I wish I hadn’t wasted the last seven years of your life. But you took care of me in the end, didn’t you? You made sure I’d have the family’s allegiance. And I forgive you for that night, for telling me like that.”
Just then, a robin landed on my father’s headstone.
Gia gasped beside me. The bird simply perched there, unmoving, and watched me for a long moment before it flew off and landed on a branch of the closest tree, still watching us. We remained silent until finally, it flew off into the sky.
“Wow,” Gia said.
I exhaled a breath with a smile. “I don’t think it’s a sign or something.”
“A robin symbolizes renewal, Dominic. Maybe it was your father—”
I touched the headstone one more time and turned to her, caressing her cheek, kissing the tip of her cold nose. “That’s sweet, but it’s just not really Franco Benedetti’s style,” I said with a short laugh.I didn’t want Gia to know I was worried. If Angus Scava suspected Gia turned over evidence, he’d send men after her. He wouldn’t need proof to do it. But I hoped with Victor coming forward as a key witness, he’d blame it all on his nephew. Victor would have had access to the recordings too, after all, and that recording was only a small piece of the evidence against Angus.
Gia quit her job, but she wouldn’t quit school. So I moved in with her into her crap apartment for just over a month until I signed the lease on a condo in Little Italy. We fell in love with it the first time we saw it. It was charming with its exposed brick, reclaimed wooden floors, and huge windows. Gia and I had similar taste in furnishings: ultramodern, and it had nothing in common with any of the houses my family owned. Moving in together felt so natural, as if we’d lived together our whole lives.
Effie flew up to New York to visit. Isabella let her stay with us over the Thanksgiving break, and she and Gia hit it off from the start. I liked seeing Effie so at ease, and as much as I wished I could tell her the truth, I knew it wasn’t the time. I saw Gia watching me with her, and I hated the look of pity she sometimes got. We never talked about it, though.
Ruling the Benedetti family came with its challenges. Now that I was boss, things were different than I’d always thought they were. I had no one I trusted. Salvatore didn’t want to have anything to do with the family business, and the taint of Roman’s betrayal still tasted bitter on my tongue. I retained Henderson’s services, but I had learned that everyone had their own agenda. I wouldn’t be played again, not by anyone.
I married Gia over Christmas. We flew to Calabria, Italy, for the wedding. That house was the only one of the family homes I’d kept. I hadn’t spent much time in it during my youth, and it didn’t seem to hold the stain of betrayal in its walls. Salvatore and Lucia attended with all three kids. So did Isabella and Luke and their new baby girl, Josie. Effie was our flower girl, and Salvatore and Lucia stood as witnesses. Gia’s mother and aunt attended, but that was all, and it was fine. I guess we were both loners. But together, just us, it didn’t seem to matter.
I didn’t show Gia the newspaper that arrived on our doorstep the morning of our wedding. I didn’t tell her that Victor Scava had disappeared, along with all the evidence against Angus. I didn’t mention the small box tucked inside the paper either. Angus Scava’s wedding gift. A box containing Victor’s tongue. Or what I assumed to be Victor’s tongue. I guess it could have been Joe Blow’s tongue, but I didn’t think so. The card with it was addressed to the “happy couple” and wished us a long life.
