AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, he’s not here, so he has no say, right?” Alfredo’s face screws up. And I fight the frustration. This is not how I wanted things to go. “Look. I’m here to talk to you, to meet you. To learn about my family. But if you’re going to just give me shit for how I’m choosing to live my life—” I move, hands pressing into the scarred table to stand.
“Don’t. You’re right. That wasn’t my place.”
I sit back down.
“I’m sorry. It’s just . . . hard. You’re married to the enemy, in a way.” My jaw goes tight with his words and I instantly defend my husband.
“Dante isn’t the enemy.”
“So Marco tells me. I trust Marco’s judgement.” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“But not mine?” The accusation hangs in the room but he doesn’t answer. “If you were so sure I wouldn’t have good judgement, why not step in? Why not intervene when you learned about me?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Why?” I ask, the words carving through me, the honesty of them revealing something I hadn’t wanted to look at too hard.
What does it mean that the family knew of me, knew there was an heir, knew Arturo had a daughter and never tried to make contact? Why did they never try?
I fill in the quiet with a new question, hopefully an easier one.
One that hurts a bit less.
“When did you find out about me?”
Part of me wishes that I came on their radar a month ago, six months ago. That would make it hurt less, if it was relatively recent and they were trying to figure out the best plan of action, but I know from Marco it wasn’t.
“About five years after you were born, we found out who killed your father. Well, your mother figured it out. She brought to my attention all of her thoughts and worries. You were, what? Four?” Marco nods and Arturo continues. “Took about a year or so to dig up the intel we needed to confirm some things, trying to learn whatever we could about what happened. That’s when we found out that it was Carmine who called the hit, and Johnny who carried it out. Tony was involved, but that boy was always just a pawn for his father.”
“Just like Paulie,” I say, looking at Marco who nods. Because that’s the truth—if Paulie rules, it will just be a way of Carmine continuing to manipulate the family and his legacy from the grave. It’s why he can’t win.
Arturo continues his story.
“Unfortunately, after my son was killed, the family suffered. There was a sense of . . . desolation. Like the family was done. He was the sole heir. What was the point in fighting? But when we realized you were in the world . . .” His words hang in the room, and while talking to him should have me feeling a sense of completion, understanding, I’m even more confused.
They knew I existed since I was a child.
When Arturo passed, the family was lost. When they learned of me, things looked less dark.
But no one came for me.
Instead, I spent 25 years locked in a tower, a protected princess, manipulated to help the villain of my fairy tale grow his power and wealth.
“Why didn’t anyone ever come talk to me?” I ask, looking at Alfredo.
This is what I can’t understand.
No one came for me.
Not before mom passed, not after. Not when I was suffering the most, not when Lola was in hell.
No one came for us. No one wanted to help.
“We did,” he says, and my world turns on its axis.
“I’m sorry?” Alfredo leans forward, the fingers of his hands intertwined and resting on the table.
“From the time you were four to the time you were eight, when your mother got too sick to keep going, I would meet with you once a month.” My brow furrows.
