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“Lawyer.”
Carmine narrowed his eyes. “What were you doing, bribing your way out of trouble?”
“More like settling things before they tie the knot on my noose.”
“That bad?” They may not have been close over the years, but Carmine didn’t like the thought of losing his father.
“Yes, it’s that bad, son,” Vincent said. “We used to be able to talk our way out of anything, but our power has even less influence than our money these days.”
Curious about his father’s bitterness, Carmine took a seat without waiting to be invited. “Can I ask you something?”
Vincent leaned back in his chair. “Sure.”
“Do you regret getting involved?”
“Yes . . . and no. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, and those I do regret, but taking the oath for your mother . . . I can’t regret that. I wish I wouldn’t have had to, but I did. And I’d do it again.” Vincent paused. “You know, I was furious when I found out what you’d done, and as much as I still hate it, I get it, son. It’s genetic, I guess—ingrained in your DNA. You would’ve sacrificed for her eventually, someway, somehow. You are your mother’s child, after all.”
“I’m apparently yours, too.”
Vincent smiled sympathetically. “Is there a reason you asked? Are you regretting—?”
“No way,” Carmine said. “It’s just, Christ . . . I know it was necessary, but I feel like I fucked everything up by doing it.”
“I felt that way, too,” Vincent said. “I initiated to free your mother, and all I did was take her from one dangerous world to another. It was dressed up pretty and called another name, but it wasn’t much different. Your mother never got a chance to live a life where no one knew her . . . where no one knew what she’d been. She never got to invent herself.”
Carmine nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
Vincent drummed his fingers again. “Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade the years I had with your mother for anything, and I surely wouldn’t give up you boys. You’re the only thing I ever did right in life. But I’ll never forgive myself for not giving her a chance. I know she loved me, and having a family made her happy, but I don’t think she even realized she had another option. I did it all to give her choices, and then I never told her she had them. I can’t help but wonder, all these years later, how different things would be had I let her go.”
“Mom wouldn’t have left you,” Carmine said.
“She didn’t know any better,” he said. “And that’s the point, really. She never got to choose to be with me.”
“That’s why I feel like I fucked up,” Carmine said. “I figured I could keep those parts of my life separate, do what I had to while still giving her everything she wanted, but I don’t know if that’s possible anymore. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it and I’m running out of time, considering I’m expected in Chicago after Christmas.”
“I’m not surprised,” Vincent said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a gold key. He fiddled with it for a moment before pushing it across the desk to Carmine. “The key to the house in Chicago.”
Carmine carefully picked it up. “Why are you giving it to me?”
“You’ll need somewhere to stay, won’t you?”
He wanted to argue, to give the key back, but he couldn’t. It was true. He hadn’t thought about what he would do once he got there. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine. It’s Haven I’m worried about. I grabbed this notebook of hers today, and I can tell you after reading it that she’s a fucking mess.” He flipped through pages haphazardly, shaking his head when he reached the drawing titled monster. Laughing bitterly, he held up the sketch for his father to see. “Look at this shit.”
The drumming of Vincent’s fingers ceased instantly, his posture rigid as his expression went blank. Carmine’s hair bristled at his father’s posture. Vincent stared at the notebook intently, like he was memorizing the mangled face.
“She’ll be okay,” Vincent said after a moment. “She has nothing to fear from him.”
“Maybe not, but she calls him a monster, like he’s the fucking Chupacabra. She’s terrified, and that’s the kind of people I’ll have her around. Monsters.”
“Carlo’s a friend of ours.”
Carmine scoffed. “He’s no friend of mine.”
“On the contrary, son . . . he is. He’s been in the organization for years. Salvatore initiated him right after your grandfather passed away.”
