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But what could they do to him? To the d’Severano family? What crime had he committed? What crime could they pin on his father? None.
Yet Vittorio was still feared, hated, loved and loathed. He didn’t even try to justify his behavior, or contradict the rumors or lies anymore. It was a waste of time, a waste of energy. Life was short. He would love it.
And yet Jill’s words had struck a nerve. A very sensitive nerve. Because he was not a bad man, or an evil man, or a violent man. He, like his father, had spent his life righting past wrongs, as well as building new relationships with people, businesses, world leaders.
He did have family members who were connected to the mafia, but he wasn’t one of them. Nor was his father. Nor would his son be.
Because you didn’t have to be crooked to be powerful. And you didn’t have to resort to pressure or violence to be influential. His success stemmed directly from his work ethic, his focus and his value system.
So let Jill Smith, the twenty-six year old American he’d just made his wife, say what she wanted. He knew the truth. He knew who he was. He knew what he was.
But in his heart, her words
did hurt.
Jillian held Joe’s hand as they walked in the rose garden after his afternoon nap. He toddled happily from bush to bush, savoring the sunshine and colorful petals and sweet scent of the antique roses.
Jillian talked to him and crouched down to help him smell different blossoms but her insides churned, her heart felt heavy.
She’d said something awful to Vitt earlier and she couldn’t forget what she’d said, or Vitt’s expression as she’d said it.
It’d kill me if he were to grow up and become like you….
Such cruel, hurtful words.
But she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She was just being honest. Just sharing her fear.
Her father’s crimes still horrified her, and she believed more than ever that the world needed good people. The world needed men who were strong. Courageous.
Compassionate.
That’s the kind of man she wanted Joe to be one day. That’s the kind of man she’d thought Vitt was. Until she’d looked the d’Severanos up on Google and found out the truth.
Crouching next to a pink rosebush, Jillian held a soft open flower up for Joe to smell it. He pressed his face into the petals. “Mmm,” he said.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” she said.
He smiled up at her, his eyes deeply blue, his expression trusting.
Her heart ached all over again. She owed Vittorio an apology. She needed to let him know she’d been wrong to say something so unkind, especially in front of their son. Hopefully she could talk to him before they met his family for dinner. She wouldn’t feel better until she apologized.
Footsteps sounded on the walk and Jillian looked up to see Maria approach.
“Is it time for dinner already?” Jillian asked.
Maria shook her head. “Signor sent me to tell you that he is not eating at home tonight. He said that he’ll have dinner sent to you and Joe in your suite, and that you’ll meet his family tomorrow.”
Jillian straightened. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
The nanny shook her head. “No. But he may not return tonight. It’s possible he’ll remain in Catania until tomorrow.”
Jillian’s heart fell. “What?”
“He has a big apartment there, not far from his office. I’ve never seen it but I’ve heard that it’s at the top of a building and very nice. In English I think you call it a penthouse.” Maria bobbed her head and then excused herself, returning to the house.
For a moment Jillian just watched Maria walk and then driven by some dark, murky emotion, Jillian scooped up Joe and chased after Maria. “Is Signor still here?” she asked, catching up with Maria just inside the door.
The castle felt cool and shadowy after the afternoon sun.
