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“Of course you know she’s an artist,” Vincent continued, ignoring his hostility. “In fact, you know a lot about her, more than you’d ever admit, including the fact that she’s not nothing to you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sal said. “She’ll never be anything more than a slave in my eyes, a worthless piece of flesh you idiots waste your life on. She’s irrelevant in my world. She shouldn’t even exist!”
Carmine flinched as irritation flashed across his father’s face.
“You know, it didn’t make sense at the time,” Vincent said. “I never understood why Frankie refused to give her up, why he wouldn’t let her go when he wanted nothing to do with the girl. She was a burden, another mouth to feed, so why not take the cash to be rid of her?”
“She was his granddaughter,” Salvatore said pointedly. “You know that.”
“That didn’t matter to him,” Vincent retorted. “His son getting a slave pregnant would’ve been a disgrace in his eyes, tainting his bloodline—he would’ve wanted to be rid of the child. So why did he not only keep her but kill over her, too?”
“He didn’t want anyone to find out.”
“Yeah, that’s what you told me.” Vincent shook his head. “I believed it for years because I didn’t think you’d lie to me and you told me you were sure. I slaughtered him and his wife, and then I put my gun to that girl’s head as she slept and pulled the trigger, because you swore she was the reason my wife died. And that’s exactly what you wanted, wasn’t it? You used my grief to solve your problem, and it almost worked. If my gun hadn’t jammed, I would’ve killed everything there that breathed.”
“I didn’t tell you to kill any of them.”
“You didn’t have to! You knew exactly what I would do with the information you fed me, and you gave me just enough time to do it before calling me in.”
“I would’ve never ordered a hit on a child!”
“Because you can’t! The men wouldn’t have trusted you anymore if they even suspected you had anything to do with it. There would’ve been a mutiny! But you knew how to push my buttons, how to get me to react. You wanted them all dead and you used me so you could keep your hands clean.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Salvatore said. “Why would I want them dead?”
“Evidence,” Vincent said. “Never leave anything behind if it can be linked to you. It’s simple, something all of us know. The moment you realized your mistake, you wanted it disposed of.”
“What evidence?”
“The girl’s bloodline.”
Panic swept across Salvatore’s face. Carmine stared at him in shock, realizing he wasn’t surprised . . . he did know. Confusion rocked Carmine’s brain, the knowledge nearly crippling him. The entire time, through it all, Salvatore knew they were related.
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe so, but I’m still right,” Vincent said. “All it took was a simple prick of a finger and a lifetime of secrets came spilling out in the blood.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I once believed that. I thought you were as much a victim as her, but that changed when she was kidnapped. You wouldn’t get involved because you knew why they took her and you wanted nothing to do with it! You were afraid they’d expose you and you thought . . . you hoped . . . they’d get rid of her. But they didn’t.
“You were power hungry and had your own family murdered. You used to talk about how much family meant, and I actually pitied you because you didn’t have anyone left! And the whole time it was your own fault!”
“How dare you accuse me of that!” Salvatore spat. “I’ll kill you for this!”
The moment he spoke those words, Vincent reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, aiming it at Salvatore. Carmine jumped up, as did Carlo, knocking chairs over in haste, one flying into the shallow end of the pool. Salvatore sat still, unmoving, barely blinking. Carmine was frozen with fear as Carlo pulled his gun, aiming at Vincent.
“You had no idea thirty years later DNA testing would exist,” he continued, keeping his eyes and gun trained on Salvatore. “That’s the real reason he wouldn’t sell me the girl . . . he was trying to protect you, and maybe even protect her in the process. When it got back to you that Maura was asking questions, you panicked, and that’s when you set the plan in motion. You put the hit out on my wife to cover your tracks, and I never wanted to believe it. Never did I want to believe you’d do that to me, that you’d do that to my children.
“Haven drew pictures after her kidnapping—like I said, she’s an artist—and she drew one of Carlo. I denied it to myself, I denied it to my son, but there came a point where I couldn’t deny it anymore. Your man—your best friend—had been there for it all!”
Tears slid down Vincent’s cheeks. Carlo yelled, denying it all, while Salvatore glanced around with fear. Carmine stared at his godfather with disgust.
“Carmine,” Sal said firmly, and he knew instantly what he wanted. He expected Carmine to follow his orders, to do what he had told him to do.
“Don’t talk to my son!” Vincent snapped. “You’ve hurt him enough! Tell me, when you had my wife killed, did you want him dead, too?”
lt like he was going to throw up as that sunk in.
