Page 10 of Unravel Me

I lean closer, feeling my cheeks burning. I want him to know that what I’m saying comes from the heart. I squeeze his hand tighter and whisper,

"You know, the man who was Tommy's surrogate once told me he'd pray that I'd find my happiness. And now I'll do the same for you. I'll ask Fate to somehow bring Bay and you back together…"

Alex smiles sadly, for a moment, he turns his head, and his gaze sinks into the darkness beyond the window, as if his thoughts have wandered into the distance, perhaps searching for some hope for the future, even if only a tiny spark of it. Then he nods.

"Thank you. You're so sweet. I wish you the best of luck, Jared. And… take your time. Tommy will be safe with me."

CHAPTER 3: MAURO

Nineteen Years Earlier

I longingly look out the window at the garden next to our house. My gaze wanders over our estate's wide grass, the grove of rich green trees encircling it, and the flowering bushes our gardener had planted.

That unusual voice is here again. It’s calling to me, whispering strange but powerful promises into my ears.

It has been developing inside me for months and is getting clearer.

I close my eyes and run my hand up against the glass. The need… it grows stronger.

Out.

Go there!

Be outside!

Whenever I walk there, that grove seems to envelop me, swaying me gently in its green energy, but…

…it’s not gonna happen today.

Because… shit happened!

This morning Dad grew agitated when I kept stumbling while reading and had me stay inside until I could read Sicilian fluently.

Usually, Dad ignores how much time I spend in the grove. He appears to understand me, but also emphasizes the need to study. Though I can now read English fluently, he wants me to speak Sicilian just as well. Since both of my parents' families come from Sicily, he thinks it's important to keep this tradition alive.

A deep sigh escapes me as I turn away.

Footsteps sound outside the door, so I quickly move away from the window, sit down at my desk, and open my textbook, pretending to study the reading passage with a deep frown.

Dad enters the room. It isn't an obvious expression, but there is definitely something bothering him. I have always been able to feel the things he tries to hide.

"Is everything all right, Dad?"

He smiles softly.

"Oh, Mauro. You know me better than anyone."

He looks toward the window with a wistful expression, then says, "I shouldn't be talking to you about this, but Father just got a phone call that your Uncle Tito was murdered today."

"Tito?" I mutter under my breath.

I suppose I should feel grief, make some kind of sad expression, but I can't bring it up inside myself. The problem is that I really didn't like Uncle Tito, and Dad didn't like him either, yet he still seems troubled by it.

"It was the Russians, right?" I ask. "They finally got to us?" I know from conversations I overheard between my parents that the Russian mafia has moved into my grandfather’s territory in several parts of the city, and tensions have escalated.

"We don't know. Your father only got a short text message from your uncle, Vincenzo."

I get up and walk to the window. I notice two soldati standing on the path near the front door. It surprises me. Ever since my father stepped away from actively participating in the family's ‘business’, we haven't had any special protection besides the camera system I like to play with.