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“Go ahead, kid.” He winked. “Give daddy a warm hug. I’ll be right behind you.”
Maybe not a hug, but I needed to talk with my father eventually. I was right to be angry with his reaction. That joy, that gloating in his voice when someone died was not something to be proud of. Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled, or turned my back onBabbowhen he was calling for me, but all I could think about was Salvatore’s pain. His heart was crushed that night in more ways than one and no one should laugh at that.
I kept working on the speech in my head while marching to Father’s office, but I stopped when I heard his laugh coming from the living room. It was a light sound, relaxed, something rare coming from Fabiano Caputo.
I followed that sound, expecting to see a smiling man at the end of it. MaybeBabbowas watching a nice movie, or was enjoying a glass of expensive wine that made him laugh, or maybe Delfina was cracking one of her legendary meaningful jokes. That’s what I expected to see.
What I didn’t expect was Ariana Bernoulli wrapped in lace lingerie and expensive jewelry, her blonde hair cascading down her back, her breasts floating out of her bra in my father’s face. His hands were all over her, following her curves and pulling at her panties like they were insulting him. It took my brain a long time, but eventually I realized that it wasn’t just a relaxing night in. I’ve just stepped into the middle of my father’s affair. With my friend.
I was too stunned to say or do anything. The anxiety crippled me, left me immune to what my brain was telling me to do. I could hear the blood rushing through my veins and my lungs burning, but I still couldn’t make a sound. It was my tempestuous breath that finally signaled I was in the room.
Ariana’s sneaky eyes lifted and she looked straight at me. There was no remorse there. No shock, no shame, nothing except coldness and a displaced superiority.
“No, don’t stop,Bella.” My father growled with his mouth on her skin and I almost threw up on my feet. “What…?” And he turned. And he saw me. And all hell broke loose.
“Your daughter is home.” Ariana stated the obvious.
“G-G-Grazia.Mia figlia. You were supposed to be-be-be…”
“In Milano.” The words crawled through my clenched teeth. “I was supposed to be in Milano, but I come home to see this?! What is this? What are you doing withher?”
That was a stupid question. He was shirtless and Ariana was dressed like a hooker. There was no room for interpretation.
“I didn’t know you were going to be home so early.” At least he had the decency to look embarrassed unlike hisparamourwho dropped in one of the leather chairs like she owned the place.
“That’s all you have to say to me, Father? That you didn’t know… That’s all you’ve got? So what I wasn’t here? So what if I was in Milano?! How could you do this? And with Ariana? She’s almost my age!”
“Grazia, listen to me,” his commanding voice was losing its power because I was in no mood to listen.
“She was supposed to be my friend!”
“Grazia!”
“She is mom’s goddaughter!” My voice boomed. Loud and screeching, making every piece of glass rattle. “She has mom’s name. How could you?”
Of all the people in the world, he chose her. Of all the women who would be happy to pleaseDonCaputo, all the women he could pay for a few nights, he picked up the one that carried my mother’s name.
Betrayal wasn’t a taste I felt on my tongue before and I sure didn’t expect to have the first taste coming from my own blood – from my father – but that’s how I felt. The hurt made my knees buckle, but I wasn’t going to fall. I didn’t kneel to Salvatore, I damn sure wasn’t going to do it in front of Ariana. Ever.
I heard the front door opening again. Garon’s phone call was done.
“Giorgio talks a lot.” He said and then walked into the mess in our living room. He looked, he stopped, he blinked. “Having fun, old man?”
“This is not the time for your stupid jokes, son. Get out.”
“Get out? That’s how you welcome your youngest son back?”
“This. Is. Not. The. Time.” Father looked over his shoulder at Ariana. “There’s a woman indecent here.”
“Don’t get on your fucking high horse and lecture me about morals. Look at Grazia!” My brother lost his temper and that was rare. Garon was care-free, he was always calm, smiling. “Your daughter has walked in on you trying to fuck her friend. You have no right to look down on me anymore!”
“I have all the right; I am your father!”
They shouted and they kept shouting, until I wasn’t even sure what they were shouting about anymore.
“Enough!” I stepped between them, right in their faces to make sure I was heard. “This can’t be happening now. She needs to go. Father, tell her to leave.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then there was his answer. “No.”
