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I reach the grave and stand over it. The guilt eats me alive every day. It’s always going to. But then I think back, and I know I’d do it again if the same circumstances played out. I couldn’t control it then, and I don’t think I’d be able to control it if it happened now.
I read the epitaph as I push my hands into my pockets.
In loving memory of Gio and Angela Conetti,
and their son, Angelo, who was born sleeping.
I grit my teeth as I read the inscription on the headstone over and over again. I’m the reason all three of them are dead. I killed them.
I glance down at the flowers, surprised someone has been to their grave. They had no family. They had no one. Yet someone’s been visiting.
I jangle the loose change I have in my pocket as I continue to stare at the grave. The guilt isn’t for killing a woman. It’s not even for killing the baby. It’s the manner in which I did it. I was a savage, something I hadn’t realized I had in me until I unleashed it.
I shake my head, not wanting to remember the anger and carnage from that day.
I turn on my heel and move away from the grave. Not even twenty steps away lie my parents. I glare at the flowers and know that they’re from Nonna. She’s the only one with love left in her heart for them. My father more than my mother. Nonna is still reeling from the death of her only son, and she’s trying to hide it. None of Aldo’s kids care enough to look after the grave. Hell, we’d have preferred if they’d been cremated and then their ashes dumped into the trash, where they belong. But Nonna wanted them buried. Nonna wanted them to have a good funeral.
I spit on their grave, just as I do every time I walk past it, and carry on moving. If I could, I would kill them both all over again. I should have killed my father a fucking long time before he took it into his own hands. I should have ended his miserable life and done the same to my mom. But they’re dead now and can no longer harm Adelina.
I climb into my car and turn the engine on. This will be the last time I visit the graves. I won’t be coming back.
“Dario, what’s wrong?” Gio asks as I stand on his doorstep, his brows knitted together as he opens the door wide for me. “What brings you by?”
“Gio,” I say with a sigh as I step into the house. “You already know the answer to that,” I tell him. This stupid game of pretend isn’t helping anyone. “You’re the reason the Famiglia has lost money. What did you do with it?”
Over six million dollars have gone missing, and the only people who had access to that much cash was my father, his consigliere, and Gio. After doing some digging, it was clear that Gio was the one who was siphoning funds from the Famiglia and sending them to an offshore account, one that then sent money to his wife’s account.
The door closes behind me, and I hear his footsteps sound as he follows me into the kitchen, where his heavily pregnant wife, Angela, is standing at the kitchen island. She greets me with a blinding smile. “Dario, to what do I owe the pleasure? It’s been a while. How are you?”
“Good. Not long left now until the little one’s here,” I say, making idle chit-chat, something I fucking hate, but it’s required sometimes.
She beams at me, rubbing her hand over her stomach. “Yeah, he’s due in ten days,” she says with such happiness. “We’re going to call him Angelo. It’s a mixture of both our names. We couldn’t settle on one we liked so we’ve agreed on Angelo.”
I nod. “It’s a good name,” I say.
“Dario,” Gio says from behind me. “Please, I don’t want any trouble. I’ll repay the money. I promise I will.”
“Funny,” I mutter dryly. “You’re missing over half a million dollars from the money you stole. Now, I can only hazard a guess that you’ve gone all out for your son's arrival, that you wanted to ensure your wife had the very best care for when she gave birth to your son.”
He nods, looking relieved. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll pay it all back, every last cent, and then some.”
“What’s going on?” Angela asks, sounding a hell of a lot like she’s about to go into a fucking meltdown. “Gio, what did you do?”
“Gio here has stolen six million from the Famiglia,” I inform her, and watch as the fucker closes his eyes and sighs.
“You didn’t,” she hisses. “Oh, Gio… Why?”
“I needed the money. I needed to pay for the nursery. I needed money for the hospital bill,” the coward says, keeping his eyes gazing at the floor.
“Why?” she shrieks at him. “Why did you need to steal? Hmm? We’ve had money. We’ve been saving.”
He shakes his head. “I’m in debt. I lost a few bets.”
“You gambled our money away?” she hisses at him. “What the hell, Gio? How could you do this to us?”
I’m not listening to these two have a domestic. It’s not what I’m here for.
“Gio,” I say, cutting through Angela’s shrill voice. “How long have you been a part of the Famiglia?”
