So, I downplayed my interest, pretending only to want to connect with my roots, and I made it seem like I was looking for my mother’s family. I didn’t mention his son by name, but he knew exactly who I was speaking of from my telling of the story. Strike one against him, he obviously knew his son was a monster, but in all fairness, from everything I’d learned about Salvatore, he wouldn’t have condoned such behavior.
He didn’t interrupt, not even to deny that his monster of a son would do such a thing. He didn’t ask any questions, just sat there and took it all in, and once I was done, he shifted his eyes away from me in shame and wiped them with the handkerchief he removed from his pocket.
“I am your grandfather; you’ve found me.”
“No, it can’t be; what are the odds? I just got off the plane; you’re the first person I’ve met here.”
“No-no, this is true, it’s la sorte, we were meant. Tell me, what kind of man are you in America? Who do you live with? What has happened to your life? Your mother?”
I told him the bare minimum about how Ma was sent to America by her father, how she met Pop, but I didn’t give him my surname, not yet. He remembered Ma vaguely but only because of her father and because of her beauty that had been talked about in her youth. He’d been too busy running an empire to pay much heed to his sons and their doings, so though he knew family names, he had no real affiliation with the younger generation.
I knew most of this about him from my research as well. He’d tried to do what Pop was doing, bringing his family into the twenty-first century, turning old money into new. But in this climate, that’s easier said than done. And now he knows that the son he’d chosen to carry out his wishes was nothing more than a piece of shit who did the things I’d described being done to my mother.
It was like adding gasoline to an already out of control fire. He was already second-guessing his decision to hand everything over to Alonzo when he retired, I knew that before coming here, it plays a big part in my new plans after all, so I couldn’t leave any stone unturned.
“You must come home with me.” I shook my head before he was through talking, giving a good impression of being upset.
“How do I know you didn’t know about this and did nothing?”
“No-no, I’ve done many things, but this, this is not who I am, please. There’s nothing I can do for that poor girl, your mother. But you are my grandson the first. There must be a reason why you were allowed to exist and to become the man that you are. It’s not your fault, and it’s not her fault, but do you really want to give up your life?”
“What do you mean? Give up my life.”
“Do you know who we are? Did your mother not tell you? No matter what life you had in America, it cannot compare to the life you’d have as the grandson of Salvatore Ricci.” Yes, I know.
“But how do you know that I’m your grandson?”
“I know, this is my father’s face, my face, my son’s face. Only certain men in the Ricci family have this exact face. If you want, we can do that…scusi,” He snapped his fingers and turned to one of his goons who’d been standing off to the side.
They discussed the word for DNA before he turned back to me. “Yes, we can have this done to put your mind at ease. As for me, I know. You will come to the palazzo. This,” he looked around at the five hundred dollars a night hotel with a sneer, “this is no good.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why? Are you going back to America? No-no, you must not. Listen to me; I am your grandfather, I swear, all will be fine, you leave it to me. We do the DNA now, so you know. I already know.”
“This is crazy.”
“No, la sorte, you came here to find your family no, I am your family.” Yes, I know, and I’m here to destroy you. Well, your son anyway.
DRACO
I rushed back to the house to get my passport and a change of clothes, gave my wife some shoddy excuse about last-minute business but didn’t tell her where I was going before having Tommy rush me out to the hangar where Pop kept his plane. I was so rushed I didn’t even think about flight plans or anything else, which didn’t matter as I saw when I got there.
The damn thing looked like it had been taken apart. “What’s going on here?”
“Ah, afternoon Mr. Russo, looks like trouble with the engine.” What are the odds? That deceitful old man did this. Control Draco, stay calm. How am I supposed to do that when it feels like my heart is flying out of my chest?
I’ve tried calling Gabe for the last hour with no answer, and his team hasn’t seen him since he left the plane hours ago now. I tried once more and almost fainted with relief when he answered this time. “Pop, I’m okay, sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing, but now you know, you don’t need to worry.”
“Son, do you want Sicily to fall?
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have any idea what I’d do to that place if something happens to you there?”
“Nothing’s going to happen, I promise; I’ll be home in a couple of days.”
“A couple… Gabriel Russo.”
“I know what you’re worried about, Pop, but it’s not going to happen, I promise. I’ll be fine. I won’t do anything while I’m here; I’ll explain when I get back. Trust me.”
Ah dammit. He knew what asking me to trust him would do. He was tying my freaking hands here. If I stepped in now, I would be saying I didn’t trust him. I was just about his age when I asked my own father to trust me when I went after the ones who killed my grandfather. We’ve come full circle. “Just hurry home, son. Don’t make your mother worry.”
We hung up, and I stood there for a few seconds more, fighting the will to find another way to get to him, knowing I couldn’t break his trust. The next few days just might be the hardest of my life.
DRACO
“Sofia, upstairs, now.” Both she and Sheila, who was in the kitchen having one of their gabfests, turned to me in shock. I hadn’t raised my voice, but it was obvious that I was pissed. I turned and walked away, heading up the stairs to our room. Like I said, I’ve never raised my voice to my wife, was never even tempted to, but when she walked into our bedroom, I was barely holding back my anger.
“Draco, what’s the matter? Did something happen?”
“Do you know where our son is?”
“Gabe? Did something happen to Gabe?” She walked towards me, and for the first time since we’d met, I stepped back away from her. I could see the hurt and confusion on her face. But I was way past caring at this point.
Gabe is smart; he’s the smartest person I know, truth be told, and I went to one of the leading Ivy League universities in the world. But he’s a child, my child, and I can’t help but hold her responsible for this. There’s also the guilt of not stepping up and putting an end to this shit when he was still young.
“He’s in Sicily.”
“What? What’s he doing there? I don’t understand.”
“You know why he’s there.” She didn’t understand at first, but I guess my steady glare without uttering another word tipped her off.