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I didn’t realize, he was talking about himself.
“What happened?” I ask grimly. “Tell me everything.”
Giovanni pauses a long moment, looking out across the vineyard. “It was a bad business, from the start, taking the money. Bad. I warned your father, told him not to mess with that family. Roman was a not a man to be trusted. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. But your father, he doesn’t listen. He told me he could handle it.” He exhales, looking sad. “He was wrong.”
I reach for the glass of red wine and drain it, feeling a riot of emotions. Regret. Empathy for my father. And anger that he would make these kinds of mistakes.
Mistakes that would echo through the years, trapping me in my own twisted bargain.
“He got what he wanted though, didn’t he?” I say, bitter. “That dirty money built the whole damn company, and he wasn’t the one left to deal with the mess.”
But Giovanni frowns. “The deal went sour,” he says, sounding surprised I don’t know that part. “Roman was pushing for more, your father soon regretted everything. They fought, he wanted to buy Roman out, and… Something else, too.”
“What?” Juliet asks, leaning forwards. I’d almost forgotten she was there.
Giovanni shrugs. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t just business, not with tempers flaring so hot. The last time I saw your father, he swore, he’d get out from under Roman,” he says to me, “Whatever it took. And then… Well…”
“The plane crash.” I nod. But his words fill me with relief. “At least my father knew he’d made a mistake,” I say quietly. “At least he was trying to make things right.”
I’ve been cursing his name all this time, ever since Nero came calling, and I found out about the deal. I thought I didn’t know him—that my father was a stranger to me—but at least some of the honorable man I knew still remained.
He fucked up, but he was only human.
Giovanni nods. “He tried, but… In the end, the Barrettis always win.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me pause. A heavy weight.
Grief.
Does this mean… ?
A chill goes down my spine.
“Let me ask you something,” I say, pulse suddenly beating faster. I almost don’t want to know the answer, but it’s a question that needs to be asked. “The plane crash… Was it really an accident?”
Juliet lets out a little gasp of shock, and I feel it too. Never once did I question what happened to my parents and the Crosses. A tragic accident, that’s what the cops all said, and we believed it.
But now… ?
If my father really was trying to break the deal with Roman… If the mob boss didn’t like the way things were going…
I ask it again, my voice urgent. “Did Roman Barretti kill my parents?”
Giovanni is silent for a long moment. “I honestly can’t be sure. I have my suspicions, but… What good are the suspicions of an old man? I wish I had answers for you, son,” he says to me. “But if I were you… I would watch your back.”
