“He doesn’t answer his phone? Did you try to send him a message?” Aria asked as she pulled back from me and hurried toward her husband.
Luca grimaced. “Yes, I sent him two messages, but he hasn’t replied yet, and he doesn’t answer my calls. I doubt he’ll be back any time soon.”
I returned into Mother’s bedroom even though my body bristled at the mere idea, but Aria needed some time with her husband. I’d only be the fifth wheel. Before I closed the door, I saw Luca cradling my sister’s face and kissing her eyelids. That was love and devotion. He wouldn’t have left her side if she’d been dying. He wasn’t a good man, but he was a good husband. I prayed that I’d be as lucky one day. I couldn’t live the life my mother had, with a cold husband who didn’t care about me. I knew Romero wouldn’t be like that. But it wasn’t like Father would choose him for my husband.
Gianna was back in her armchair but she was talking on the phone in a low voice, probably with Matteo. She, too, had found someone regardless of how hard she’d fought her marriage in the beginning.
Fabi was gone. I didn’t want to interrupt Gianna so I went in search of my little brother. I found him in his room, sitting at his desk and polishing one of his many combat knives. They were shiny already.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked.
He didn’t even look up, only pressed his lips together.
I waited before I finally nodded. “Okay. But if you change your mind, I’m in my room.” He didn’t react, only reached for the next knife and began polishing that too.
Romero waited outside. He nodded toward my brother. “Do you want me to talk to him? Maybe he needs someone who isn’t family.”
“You mean who isn’t female,” I said bitterly, but then I swallowed my emotions. “You’re probably right. He’d rather talk to you than me.”
Romero looked like he wanted to say more but then he walked past me and toward my brother. “Do you need help polishing your collection?”
Fabi’s head shot up. Admiration flickered across his pale face. He didn’t say anything but he handed Romero a cloth. Romero perched on the edge of the desk and unsheathed his own knife from its holster. A long, curved blade that looked absolutely deadly. Fabi’s eyes lit up and he rose from his chair to take a closer look. “Wow,” he breathed.
“I should probably polish it first. Your knives are in a much better condition.”
“That’s because they are only for show,” Fabi said. “But yours is a weapon, it’s real. How many have you killed with it?”
I closed the door quickly. I’d had enough death for one night. I didn’t want to know how many Romero had caused in his lifetime. I glanced down toward the bedroom where Mother’s corpse waited to be taken away, then I turned around and headed toward my room. Aria had Luca, Gianna had Matteo, and for the moment even Fabi had Romero, but I’d deal with this alone. I’d been doing it for weeks and months now.
Romero
I wanted to be there for Lily, wanted to console her, but I respected Aria’s wishes. She too had gone through enough shit and didn’t need the additional grief of worrying about her sister.
Instead I showed Fabiano how to handle my knife, how to unsheathe a long blade as quickly as a short one. It was easy to distract him from his sadness. But damn it, he wasn’t the one who needed me most.
Needed you? Goddammit, if I started thinking like that now, I’d get myself in huge trouble. Lily wasn’t my responsibility, and she definitely didn’t need me.
Fabi drew his knife from the holster I’d lent to him and grinned at how fast he’d done it. I’d been like that once, eager to learn everything there was about fighting, about winning. Eager to prove my worth. My father had been a low debt collector, someone who never got to talk to the Capo directly. I’d wanted to be better, to prove my worth to him and myself. Fabiano had huge expectations resting on his shoulders, he had plenty of ways to fail, but very few options to excel.
“I need to go to Luca now,” I said eventually. Fabi nodded, and settled back on his chair. He picked up a cloth and polished the same knife again. I guessed he would spend all night like that and maybe even the next few days.
I walked out and headed for the stairs but stopped in front of Liliana’s door, listening for a sound. Maybe I wanted to hear crying so I could storm in and console her, be her knight in fucking armor.
I moved on.
CHAPTER SIX
Liliana
I looked deathly pale in mourning. Aria, Gianna, and I wore the same modest black dress and ballet flats, our hair pinned up in a bun. I didn’t wear makeup, even though the shadows beneath my eyes were scary. Father had organized a huge funeral; expensive oak coffin, a sea of beautiful flowers, only the best food for the feast afterwards. He acted like the devastated widower everyone expected to see. It was a marvelous show. He should have been there for Mother when she really needed him. This was only to impress people and maybe to make him feel better. Even a man like him had to feel guilty for abandoning his dying wife.
The funeral was a big affair in our world. Father was an important man, and so Mother’s death was a social event. Everyone wanted to attend, and everyone was crying crocodile tears as they said their condolences. My eyes were dry as sand. I could see people glancing my way, waiting for me to cry over my mother, to show the reaction they all expected from me. But I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want to cry, not surrounded by so many people with their fake tears. They pretended they’d cared for my mother, that they’d known her but none of these people had visited her when she was bound to the house. She’d been dead to them long before her death. The moment she hadn’t been the glitzy society lady they’d ditched her like a dirty rag. They made me sick, all of them.
Father put his arms around Fabi’s and my shoulders as he led us toward the coffin. I shuddered under his touch. I didn’t think he realized it was revulsion for his closeness that had caused my reaction because he actually squeezed my shoulder. It took incredible self-control for me to stay where I was and not rip away from him.
The priest started his prayer as the coffin was slowly lowered into the hole. I peered up through my lashes and caught Romero’s eyes over the grave. Unlike Luca and Matteo, who’d flown in for the funeral, Romero wasn’t allowed to stand on this side with our family. His expression was solemn as we watched each other but then he lowered his gaze back to the coffin. He’d been avoiding me in the last few days. When I entered the room he was in, he usually left with a stupid excuse. It was obvious he couldn’t stand my presence and didn’t know how to tell me. Everyone was walking on eggshells around my siblings and me now. I wished he’d tell me the truth. I could handle it.
Father led us back toward the other mourners, away from Mother’s grave and finally let go of me. I released a quiet breath, glad to be out of the spotlight and away from my father.
The moment people started to head for the coffin to say their last goodbye, I backed away. Nobody stopped me. Nobody even seemed to notice. They were busy putting on their show. I turned and didn’t look back. I rushed down the path, away from the grave, sending pebbles flying as my feet pounded the ground. I wasn’t even sure where I was going. The graveyard was huge, there were plenty of places to find peace and silence. I reached a part that was even more opulent than where Mother had been buried. Rows over rows of old family vaults surrounded me. Most of them were locked but one of the iron gates was ajar. I headed that way, and after having made sure nobody was watching me, I opened it and slipped inside. It was cool in the vault and the smell of mildew drifted into my nose. Everything was made from gray marble. I sank down slowly and sat with my back against the cold wall.