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As hard as I’d had it with the old man, Luca had had it worse because he’d had the added pressure of needing to succeed at so many things. As basically just hired muscle, all I’d had to do was throw a good punch or instill just the right amount of fear into someone and not get caught. Luca had had to wear multiple hats when he’d started learning the business and ultimately taken it over. My brother had always been the more sensitive of us, but he’d been forced to snuff that out after our mother had died.
Because sensitivity was a weakness.
Softness was a weakness.
He’d been well on his way to being the ruthless tyrant our father had been grooming him to be when he’d gotten the surprise of his life during his first year of college.
His best friend, a girl named Genevieve, who he’d had one drunken sexual encounter with to prove to himself he wasn’t a fag, had stunned him with the news that they were going to be parents.
The night Genevieve, or V as we’d come to call her, had told Luca, he’d come to me and in a rare show of self-doubt had cried in my arms as he’d tried to deal with a myriad of things all at once.
That he was, indeed, only interested in men.
That our father was going to disown him if he didn’t kill him outright.
And that he was going to be a father.
That last part had been the hardest thing for him to accept because he’d been convinced he’d turn out to be just like Vidone Covello.
When he’d gone back to V, he’d intended to tell her that he just couldn’t do it… that he couldn’t be a father to any child.
Then he’d seen the tiny outline of his baby on a sonogram and everything had changed.
Well, not quite everything.
Luca had waited until little Gio was almost five to tell our father about his grandson. I’d suspected it had been some kind of final hope on Luca’s part that we could go back to being the family our mother had always wanted us to be.
Vidone had been in a rage at first, because he hadn’t wanted another bastard in the family. He’d barely even looked at me when he’d said those words to Luca and I’d hardly even flinched because I’d gotten used to that title. But when the old man had actually met the little boy who’d come running into the room in the middle of the argument, Vidone had paused and considered the child. He’d grumbled about it quite a bit as he’d eyed his son holding his grandson in his arms and whispering words of comfort to him. He’d called Gio over to him and looked him up and down and then, just like that, he’d suddenly declared that the boy was a Covello and that Luca and V would make it official that weekend. My poor brother hadn’t even had a chance to respond to the declaration because our father had started talking about how little Giovanni Covello was the future of the business and he’d one day rule an empire that would make Covello a household name.
That was what had changed things for my brother.
While Gio’s birth was what had woken Luca up, it was that moment with our father that had set him free.
Because Luca had calmly walked up to our father and taken his son from him and carefully led the little boy back to V and had asked her to go wait outside. He’d asked me to go with her and though I had technically answered to our father at the time, I hadn’t even hesitated to turn on my heel and follow V and little Gio.
Luca had emerged from the house less than five minutes later, our raging father on his heels.
I still had no idea what exactly had been said between the pair, but I’d gotten the gist.
Luca had chosen his son over his father.
And he’d chosen me too.
Because when Luca had gotten V and Gio settled in the car, he’d turned to me and softly told me to get in the car as well.
It hadn’t been an order.
Our father had been shouting orders.
At me.
First to tell me to stop Luca from leaving, then to get my ass up the stairs so I could take my place at his side, which really meant behind him.
I still hated the fact that I’d hesitated even for a second. When Luca had quietly whispered in my ear to trust him, it was like he’d given me what I’d needed to break the collar I’d been wearing around my neck for most of my life.
My collar may not have been a physical one like Aleks’s had been, but I’d been owned just the same.
And I’d been released from my prison by someone who’d always vowed to watch out for me.
