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“Are you ready, baby girl?”
Dom’s husky voice dives into my heart and I take a deep breath, only courageous because he is with me.
“I guess.”
He nods his approval. “That’s my girl.”
The door to the car flies opens, and I am comforted by Jonny standing outside, promising back up for the one who guards me the closest. The two men in my life who have vowed to protect me and I’m about to meet the one who should have made the same vow.
However, the man I called daddy may not deserve that title, so, as we step outside the car, my focus is on what waits inside.
We walk as if in slow motion up the wooden steps to the front door and my heart is beating so fast, I may not make it out alive.
Jonny thumps on the door. Twice. Hard.
A few seconds pass while my life flashes before me and then the door opens and a pleasant, smiling woman peers at us with curiosity.
“May I help you?”
My mouth dries and I lick my lips in the vain attempt to lubricate my words and say with a tremor to my voice, “We are here to see my, um, Benjamin Corlietti.”
She nods as if there is nothing unusual about the freak show at her door and opens it a little wider.
“He’s expecting you.”
Every step I take into the pleasant house is a painful one as the reality bites that I know nothing about my father at all. Who is this woman? Is this his house and why has he never tried to get in touch with me?
We enter a sunny room filled with roses in vases and soft comfortable furniture and sitting in a chair watching us keenly is the man I always thought of as my father.
For a moment, as our eyes connect, I think I register a little emotion in his that is quickly replaced with indifference.
“Flora.”
At least he remembers my name. That’s a start at least and he nods respectfully to Dom.
“Mr. Ortega, it’s an honor.”
Dom tenses beside me as he offers him a warmer greeting than me and then waves toward the couch before him.
“You must have questions. I’ll do my best to answer them.”
He nods toward the woman and it’s as if a knife twists in my heart as his expression softens and he says pleasantly, “Sadie, fetch our guests some refreshments will you, beautiful.”
Beautiful. He used that term a lot when I was growing up. For my mother, for my sister and for me. We were beautiful, and it made me feel loved, even when he struggled to demonstrate that. My father was always cold and distant, and I always thought that was due to his job. Second in command to a monster. Carlos Matasso, head of the Matasso family, and feared by all who knew, or had even heard of him.
When ‘beautiful’ leaves, he sighs heavily.
“Sadie’s my wife, just in case you were wondering.”
I nod because that doesn’t surprise me. His old one died and it was inevitable he would replace her. However, what confuses me more is this place. We lived in the Matasso mansion. We never had a house of our own and I wonder what’s changed.
His words reach out to me like cruel flying bullets as he says with no emotion. “The day your mother died was inevitable.”
Dom tenses beside me as he says with a slight shrug. “She was Carlos’s whore. I knew that, in fact, the whole family knew that and on that fateful night Diana knew that.”
I tense at the mention of my sister and his twisted expression tells me there is no love lost there.
“She overheard them arguing. Apparently, your mother was tired of being used and demanded Carlos divorce Giselle and marry her. She received the back of his hand across her face for her trouble and by all accounts Diana heard her threaten him. She told him everyone would know that you were his child. She would tell the Giselle’s family and they would make life very difficult for him. He just laughed in her face and told her she was a cheap whore that no longer held any interest for him.”
