“You knew it would take time; you said so yourself. But I gotta say, he’s tougher than expected, and I think his sisters work with him against us.”
“I have no doubt about that. I forgot to warn you about them. They’re almost as devious as their brother, don’t trust them either. If they tell you he went left, go right, remember that.”
“They’re not that bad really, just very loyal to their brother, is all.” I scoffed and left it at that.
“Whatever, listen, here’s what you do, for the time being, stay close to the girl, wherever she is, that’s where he’ll be. And do your best to get on his good side, will you.”
“We’re working on it. At least he hasn’t sent us packing.”
“There is that. Okay, back to it then.”
Damn boy. I haven’t heard a peep about Sicily, he hasn’t made any moves in that direction, but I’m almost certain he’s going to do something while we’re in Paris. Maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong. Instead of fighting him or trying to stop him, I should probably just find a way to protect him on his path. That’s what a good father does.
But somehow, my gut tells me that if Gabe goes down this path, there’ll be no turning back. I’m not even sure why that is, but I never bet against my gut. So, all I can do is keep my eyes on things because the kid can run circles around me with his computer shit, and we both know it.
GABRIEL
I watched on the home security monitors as the four ninja turtles walked out of Pop’s home office. I can just imagine what that little meet was about. Out of respect for Pop, I don’t have eyes and ears in his private spaces, but it’s not needed. All I have to do is keep track of when he sneaks Lancelot in for a private consult, and I can figure out the rest.
I don’t plan on leaving him in the dark forever, but I know I have to beat him to the punch, or he’d try to do what’s mine to do. Ma seems completely clueless to the fact of what she’d set in motion; she’s so caught up in Balls and debutant crap that she hasn’t given a second thought to the fact that I’d be that close to Sicily in a few days.
In fact, since I brought Gianna home, Ma seems to have forgotten all about the seeds she’d planted so long ago. I thought letting Pop know what I’ve been doing here the last few days would keep him off the scent, but now I think I overplayed my hand. Why else would he be meeting those four all of a sudden if not to put them on high alert?
Too bad for Pop, I’ve taken what he taught me along with my own knowledge and honed myself into what I am today. He doesn’t know it, but I plan to use them to my advantage when the time comes without them even being aware. Tommy and the others had been easy. They’ve been groomed to see me as their de facto boss, so giving them orders is a piece of cake. And Pop seems to forget that the four that just left his office owe me a debt. After all, I’m the one who brought them into his life, and knowing them, once they’re reminded of that fact, they’d see things my way.
It’s manipulative as shit, but I never claimed not to be. I only hope that when it’s all said and done, he realizes that I did it for him. I don’t want my Pop involved in any of this. Pop would kill Ricci. I have no doubt about that. But unlike me, he’d stop there because he wouldn’t want to leave Ma and the girls alone in the world without him, so he’d probably end up in a cell somewhere for life or ten years minimum. I’ll never let that happen.
I’ve spent the last week and a half taking care of things to make sure Gianna’s life is okay once I’m gone. It’s the least I could do because of what I’m sure my leaving is going to do to her. I keep telling myself that it’s only been a few weeks, that she’d get over me with time. As long as I removed all obstacles from her way, she’d bounce back. I have to tell myself that so I can sleep at night because there’s no other way.
Hopefully, with time she’d move on and forget this phase in her life, look back on it as just a time when… I’ve buried myself in vengeance to keep thoughts of what if at bay. I selfishly haven’t been able to keep her out of my bed no matter how hard I try. Though I feel like a monster each time, she looks up at me with hope in her eyes.
It sucks; I’m being torn in two because the thing I’ve worked so hard for is now close at hand, but it means giving her up. Where just a few short months ago, I’d have done anything for this opportunity that just fell into my lap; a part of me wishes I had more time with her, but it can’t be helped. This trip to Paris is my first and maybe only chance to get the ball rolling. I have no idea what I’m going to find or even how things are going to play out. I just know I can’t let this opportunity slip by. Isn’t it strange that in a roundabout way, she’s the one who made it possible?
Story of my life! She has no idea that her coming into my life will be the precipice for me disappearing from hers. If not for the Ball in Paris, it would’ve taken me at least another year before I was able to give Pop the slip and head into Europe.
Pop watches me like a hawk; he won’t let me anywhere near Europe if his life depended on it. So, I’ve been laying low, not showing my hand in any way. I’d hoped that my preoccupation with Fontane would blind him to the fact that I was planning something, but this little meet tells me that hope was in vain.
I looked at the clock on my desk then switched the monitor to the gym where the girls were practicing their curtsies or some shit. I keep sneaking these stolen moments of her and squirreling them away, storing them in some memory bank, and feeling guilty as hell because she doesn’t know that in about a week or so, her life will be turned upside down once again; by me.
If I could change it, I would, but no amount of guilt can change what has to be. I’ve lived with this thing for too long, been set on this course with no interruptions until her. Somehow, I think it’s selfish to change that now because nothing has changed, really. Me finding someone doesn’t change the facts of my conception; nothing will.
And as much as I feel for her, as much as I wish and hope things were different, there’s one thing that still remains. My mother has spent the last almost two decades living with a constant reminder of the worst night of her life; me. I know Ma loves me, she’s shown it in a million ways, but somehow that makes it worst in my eyes.
I wasn’t something she wanted, but something that had been forced upon her in the most heinous and disgusting way, so even her love for me was thrust upon her. How hard must it have been for her all these years, living with the proof of the darkest hour of her life constantly in her face?
She’s never mentioned it, not once. Never made me feel like anything less than her son, and that, too, somehow fills me with guilt. It’s a lot, isn’t it, to ask of one small woman who’d been left alone in the world because of that travesty. Had it not been for Pop, who knows what hell she’d have endured. So, you see, I can’t let that man pay even more of a price for my existence.
Then there’s Gianna. Sweet, soft, loveable Gianna. After the hell that has been her life, she too deserves someone better than I. Someone who doesn’t come from a place of darkness with the taint that follows me around like a shadow or a second layer of skin that I can’t take off at will.