I walk up to Gio’s front door, taking in the surroundings of his secluded modern home in the mountains. He moved out here after Sara’s passing and the piece of land he has for himself here is gorgeous. The house gives off a natural, woodsy vibe and a gallery-like aesthetic on the inside, unable to tell if it looks straight out of a horror film or a cute family vacation home.
I knock twice and it takes all but five seconds for Gio to pull me inside, dead bolting the door behind me. He’s only a few inches taller than me, still a lot shorter than my dad. His face is rough around the edges, his olive skin a little paler, as the trees around this house hardly let any sun in. He’s been growing out a rugged beard over the last few weeks and he resembles Bruno from the movie‘Encanto’with his shoulder length dark brown curly hair.
“Jeez,” I mutter when he spins me around, walking us over to his huge kitchen. “Someone is in a rush today.”
He basically pushes me into the high, white glossy stool that rests next to his breakfast bar, and I hoist myself up onto it as he rounds the island, closing the blinds on the kitchen window.
It’s only then that I realise that his house is practically in darkness. Where the light usually shines from the floor to ceiling windows, it’s blocked out by thick black curtains. I notice the record player in the corner of the open living room which usually plays 50’s and 60’s Italian music is cut off, records lining up behind it. Just looking at the lifelessness in here makes me shiver.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Gio tenses, turning around from the blinds and leaning down on the breakfast table, pulling up his long sleeved shirt to display his sleeve of tattoos, most of them that match with my dad and Lucas.
“Did they follow you up here?” he asks.
“Who?”
“The press. They’ve been hot on my heels for weeks,” he murmurs, pulling up two glasses from the cabinet beneath the island. “Want a drink?”
He reaches for a bottle of whiskey, pouring some into one glass. “Just juice, please.” He nods, opening the fridge to pull out my favourite tropical juice. “What’s going on, G?”
Gio sighs again and it sounds a little shaky this time as he pours the juice into my glass, pushing it towards me. “I don’t know. I’ve just had the feeling I’m being watched all week. I took the plane to LAX on Monday and when I landed, there were reporters everywhere, bugging me with questions.”
There are always reporters when it comes to my dad and Gio, so I’m not surprised. Especially in California, since that is where HQ is. I’ve lived in Salt Lake my whole life, but the boys had to live in LA for a few years before I was born. My mom says we moved to get away from the busy and non-private lifestyle. Still, there is an odd reporter here or there when we go out as a family here.
It’s definitely better here, it’s quieter and I get recognised less. But when I join them on business trips to LA, it’s hell. They like the drama there way more than they do here. There are a million different things to do and a million different scandals to get caught up in. But when I’m here, I feel safer.
“What were they asking? Was it about dad?” I quiz, taking a sip of my drink, loving the familiar taste.
“Yes,” he confirms, pausing as he glances back to the closed blinds and then back at me. “Scarlett,tesoro, I don’t know what to tell you.” He takes in a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “Something doesn’t feel right. It hasn’t felt right for a long time.”
My whole body goes rigid. The more I hear my family addressing it out loud, it makes it seem more real. As if this isn’t something I’ve just made up in my head but a real, possibly life-threatening thing that is going to affect us.
“Do you mean about the whole thing with Tinzin?” I ask, whispering the last word as if we’re talking about Voldemort. “Because we don’t actually know anything about it, do we? It’s all speculation. A coincidence that it somehow traced back toVoss,right?”
He shakes his head, not in a way of disagreeing, but almost in a way to shake his head of the thought. As if there is something I’m completely missing. “It’s probably nothing,amore,” he says. If it’s stressing him out this much, it can’t be nothing.
“G, you can tell me. I’m not like Arthur. I’m not going to narc. I just want to understand the situation better. You know how it feels to be out of the loop,” I say, playing the youngest sibling card that gets him every time. I watch as his features soften, his jaw unclenching as he leans against the sink, arms dropped to his sides.
“Like I said, it’s probably nothing,” he says, trying to downplay it again and I raise my eyebrow, urging him to continue. “When I was at HQ, I heard a few of the shipping managers discussing the next import for solitaire diamond pendants and where they were getting it from just didn’t seem right to me. We always, and I mean,always, use imports from Canada or Botswana that are ethically sourced. We never get local imports. As much as it would be better for the small businesses, we don’t do that with the diamonds. It’s just not the way things are done.”
I blink at him, trying to make sense of it. “So, these shipping managers were thinking of getting it from somewhere else?” He nods. “Why is this a problem? Aren't they just changing it up a little? It would be better for the small businesses, no?”
“I have never seen those shipping managers before in my life, Scarlett,” he explains, and it sounds like a punch to the stomach. This is not good at all. God, I think I’m going to be sick. “When I asked them who signed them on, they said it was from Mateo. I checked the records, and they were right. They were signed the day before he went into the hospital.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter. “What do you think they were doing? I mean, isn't it always better to have the best product for us to sell?”
“Yes, of course. That’s what worried me. They said Mateo gave them the orders, but he and I never spoke about it. It’s making me wonder if I was spaced out during the meetings. If maybe I was in on this too and I’ve just forgotten. The store name sounded too familiar for me to have never heard of it before,” he explains.
“Which store?”
“‘Julia’s’ in Provo. Almost an hour from here,” he says before shaking his head again, looking at the ground. “Like I said, Scarlett, it’s all speculation. You know how hard it’s been for me. I wouldn’t be insulted if you thought I was going a little bit crazy. Maybe this was the plan for this rota, and I just missed out.”
“I don’t think you're going crazy, G,” I say quickly. “You’re the furthest away from that. I believe you.”
He looks up at me, a small smile on his lips. “Don’t tell your brothers about this yet, okay? I need to figure out a few things before I talk to your mom too,” he warns, and I nod. I would never tell them anything. Henry, maybe. But Arthur has been an uptight prick since Alex left and Leo’s too high to care. “We’re going to figure out what happened to your dad, Scarlett. I promise you.”
“I know,” I say, and I believe him because one way or another, I’m going to figure it out. I have to. I need to. I’ve been second best to everyone my whole life, if I can figure this out, they’ll finally see how special I am.
* * *
