“That’s good. The lessons will keep you busy, so you won’t have much time to dwell on the two-month vacation in Sicily, which starts in about two weeks,” Ottavio said with a grin. “We’ll go to Palazzo Sforza near Palermo, where I was born and spent my childhood and teenage years.” He swallowed hard. “The uncles and cousins I mentioned earlier will also be there.”
“Whoa, how cool is that? I can’t wait to meet them all!” Galen buzzed with excitement. “What were they like when you guys were kids?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question,” Ottavio coughed, a bit embarrassed. “I was busy studying the Laws, attending The Council’s meetings as my father’s firstborn, and carrying out my duties. They were… kids. I’m talking about my brother, Martino, and my cousin, Baldassare; I’m twelve, and they're ten years younger than I am. On the other hand, I was very close friends with your uncle Luca, who was only two years younger than I was.”
Ottavio didn’t want to bring up the most beautiful, yet also the most heartbreaking, time of his life. Instead, he told his son about the library at the Palazzo Sforza and the residence itself,with its tasteful, richly decorated and furnished rooms, secret passages, a perfectly manicured lawn, and beautiful gardens.
According to a century-old Sforza family tradition, once children turned ten, they were given their own adult room, where they lived until they married or left the house. The staff had already been instructed to prepare one for Signorino Galen, their master’s firstborn, Ottavio said, smiling brightly at his son.
Signorino… When the boy heard Basile call him that for the first time, he thought it was one of the mean nicknames the kids at school had given him back when he lived with his aunt and uncle. However, when the man politely and considerately explained the meaning of the word, he felt important, at least in that house.
As he studied his firstborn’s expression, wondering what the kid was thinking, Ottavio realized the age gap between Galen and his siblings was almost thirteen years, slightly larger than the twelve-year difference between him and Martino. He would be three times as busy as I am chasing toddlers or small children who trip and fall as they rush to greet papa.
Yes, Ottavio continued his inner monologue, but Galen will be very different from you; he won’t see his siblings as competitors but as fragile children who share his blood and need his love and protection. Just as he does now, he’ll spend time with the triplets, playing silly games and teaching them all kinds of things.
Galen is worthy of becoming my successor, but this is only a beautiful yet ultimately impossible dream, Ottavio sighed. The Council won’t permit it because he is a child born out of wedlock, and defying them would mean starting another pointless war. He no longer wanted that; the life he shared with Ives, Ivy, Poisoned Ivy, and the triplets gave him everything he needed.
Unless... A smile brightened Ottavio’s face, reaching his dark-brown eyes as he remembered the case of Don RuggeroRinaldi, who appointed Luca, an illegitimate son, as his successor when the boy turned eighteen. I wonder how he managed that, the man thought, a small frown creasing his forehead.
Back then, Ottavio was twenty, but even though his father discussed the event at home—which he was sure had happened—he was too busy loving the delicate, sad, vulnerable boy who had endured so much cruelty in his young life to pay attention to anything else. Still, there must have been a loophole in the Laws, a tiny fissure that the then-member of The Council exploited.
I’ll talk to the Wisdom Keeper and the Judge about this matter when we go on vacation in Sicily; they have access to The Council's archives. With their permission, I’ll examine the archives for any accounts of the events. Baldassare will also be happy to help; he knows the ins and outs of the Laws.
Galen watched the expression on Ottavio’s face shift from serene to sad, almost defeated, then to the determination that now covered it, and he let out a sigh of relief. His father had a big problem, but now he had found the solution, and everything would be just fine.
CHAPTER 15
“Who the hell are you?” Bob Dixon went weak in the knees at the sight of the silhouette in the living room. “How did you get in here? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Get the hell away from there, or else...”
“My, my, what a dirty mouth you have,” the unwanted visitor drawled. “What would your friend, the Evangelical pastor, and the other members of the congregation think if they heard the profanity you spew? Or are they as hypocritical as you? Oh, sorry, I interrupted you. Please go on. What are you going to do if I don’t get the hell away from this wall, where your safe is encased?”
“Calling the police, obviously.” As he spoke, Bob walked out of the room, planning to go upstairs and grab his phone. “Stupid son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath. “You’ll rot in the town jail for the rest of your miserable life. I’ll see to it.”
“I don’t remember telling you to leave the room,” the intruder said in a calm but icy voice, sending chills down the other man’s spine. “Why don’t you sit down and entertain me with some quality conversation while I’m doing my job? Or else.”
The gun in the unwanted guest’s hand immediately affected Bob, making him turn around, walk to the couch, and plop down unceremoniously. “Barging into people’s houses and trying to rob them without knowing the safe’s code is really stupid.”
“Agreed,” the thief replied, his tone slightly amused. “I can see you doing something like that. Me, on the other hand…” He opened the safe with a theatrical flourish. “Voila. Now, get your fat ass over here and put all the money in there.” He gestured toward a black shape on the floor.
“Damn bastard,” Bob hissed through clenched teeth, but he obeyed the command. “I don’t even know who you are. Why areyou doing this to me?” He almost whined as he stuffed the wads of cash into the bag the other man had pointed out earlier.
“Because it’s fun to see Bob Dixon, the Almighty, pissing his pants and nearly crying as he watches the fortune that fell from the sky into his lap disappear as quickly as it appeared.” The intruder smirked, glancing down at the wet spot between Bob’s legs. “Oh, my, don’t tell me you forgot to put the diaper on.”
“Goddamn piece of shit, will you stop laughing at me? I got this money fair and square by selling the family company to an investor,” Bob swallowed back his tears of frustration. “You have no right to take it from me.”
“I agree,” the thief replied calmly. “On the other hand, you and your wife had no right to come here, take over your orphaned nephew’s house, exile him to the attic, and make his childhood miserable for eight years.” The man let out a cold laugh. “Think of me as the hand of God punishing you for the sins you committed against a helpless child.” His voice had a razor-sharp edge.
“Wh-what does that snotty kid have to do with you stealing my hard-earned money?” Bob raised his voice, his anger bubbling. “He should be grateful for the life we offered him instead of dumping him in an orphanage, where those born in sin belong.”
The intruder closed the safe’s door with a thud, then turned to face the other man. “Listen, you pathetic excuse for a human being, if I ever hear you spitting such venomous words about that boy, who is ten times better than you in every way… Scratch that. If you ever breathe in the direction of New York City, I’ll come back here, and you won’t like what I’m going to do to you… and everyone else.”
The unexpected visitor pressed the gun’s barrel into Bob’s ribs with bruising force, holding it there for a few seconds as his jade-green eyes darkened almost to black and narroweddangerously. He gazed at Bob for a long moment, watching his face twist into a mask of angry helplessness and fear. The man relished the display, his cold grin making that clear.
With the gun still aimed at Bob, the robber shoved him away with such force that he collapsed to the floor in a pitiable heap. The intruder left the room, then the house. Soon, the sound of an engine starting and then fading into the night signaled that the danger was over. Only then did Bob dare to lift himself off the floor, wobbling on his shaky legs.
It took the man forever to cover the short distance to the couch. Once he sat down, he looked around, shaking his head in disbelief. Everything appeared perfectly in order, nothing revealing the earlier robbery. What the hell happened here? Bob thought, running a hand through his greasy hair.
He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what to do next. The bastard who robbed him of almost everything he had had made sure the man wouldn’t call the police, not even after he was long gone. The young, ambitious sheriff, who wasn’t born and raised in the town but was doing a hell of a good job, would figure out, one way or another, that he was the one who had filled the robber’s bag with the money from the safe.
