Page 193 of Alessio

“All right,” Gian murmured, pulling the key fob for the car from his pocket. “You know the deal—very little contact for the first year of training, but we’ll see if the rules are bent. Believe it or not, but this wasn’t my intention when I brought you both here.”

Corrado smirked. “Not at all?”

Gian shook his head. “I thought it might give you a chance to see that there were other options in the business, if you were determined to stay in the life, but no, I did not assume it would be here. And now, I get to return home without both of you … your mother will be pleased, I’m sure.”

Next to him, Chris made a noise under his breath. He didn’t even have to say anything for that one sound to speak volumes. Yes, their father was in for hell when he got back to their ma. Yes, they were going to miss their mother like no one would ever understand. It was just how they were raised—Cara Guzzi made their worlds go around, and now, where would she be?

Corrado stuffed his hands in his pockets, and eyed their surroundings now that it was dark. A lot of the cars from earlier were gone—the people had drifted out of the complex throughout the day, without much of a word to him. There were still a few scattered vehicles, but he didn’t know who they belonged to.

“Enough of this,” Gian said roughly, “I should get going. I love you. Both of you, huh? Be smart, Corrado.” Then, to Chris, their father said, “Don’t panic when it starts, okay? It only seems like you won’t get out, but I promise it’ll never go as far as you think it will.”

Chris’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Gian’s shoulders lifted with his stress. “Just remember what I said, son.”

“All right.”

Corrado figured his father would get in the car, and drive off after that, but Gian surprised them. Then again, their father had always been different than the other men around him—more in tune to his children, and he actually gave a fuck about what they wanted or needed at any given time. He also wasn’t sure when the physical affection started to lessen with his father, but as they grew older, the hugs and kisses slowed.

A part of him knew it was because of them—he didn’t need that shit to know his father gave a damn, and so, he stopped asking for it. Right then, though, Gian stepped forward, and embraced each of his sons one at a time, used his hand to pat the backs of their heads, and pressed a quick kiss to their foreheads before moving back just as fast.

Like it hadn’t happened at all.

“Wish me luck with your mother, hmm?”

“Good luck,” the twins echoed.

He was going to need it.

No doubt about that.

Gian was careful not to look over his shoulder as he slipped into the car, and turned the engine over. It wasn’t until Chris and Corrado could only see a very faint outline of the car’s taillights in the distance did they finally turn away from their disappearing father.

“What happens now?” Chris asked.

Corrado had no idea. “Something, I guess.”

“I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Yeah, you’re probably going to have to work on that, Chris.”

His twin made a disgusted noise, but Corrado didn’t reply because he wasn’t lying. Neither of them knew anything about what was going to happen to them now. Other than the small bag with a couple of changes of clothes, he didn’t even know where that shit would be coming from. No one thought to tell them because apparently, they didn’t need to know.

That’s what they had been told.

Next to going over a contract—that in all honesty, didn’t give them much to go on—which basically explained the next year of their lives would be essentially owned by The League, and what the company wanted to do with them … that was all Corrado knew. Training, the contract said over and over again. Except nothing in the damn paperwork explained what exactly this training would include.

“You know,” Corrado said as the two of them headed back toward the black door with the camera overhead, “Papa was right.”

“That I don’t have to be here for you?”

“Yeah.”

Chris shook his head. “No, he wasn’t.”

Well, all right.

Who was Corrado to argue with what was basically his reflection?