We’d stopped having the Sunday dinners that had once been a foregone conclusion. Angelo had spent more time off by himself, grumbling under his breath. He’d leave the mansion for hours at a time and no one had known where he’d gone.
Of course, if he wanted to do something without our knowledge, that was his prerogative. The patriarch of the family did not have to inform his sons of his whereabouts at all times.
I didn’t think my father had been going senile, but his behavior had become far less predictable. He’d been less calculating, a trait he’d always possessed in spades, but he’d grown more aggressive and shorter tempered than ever before.
“That doesn’t mean he’d do something as stupid as steal millions from the Bianchi’s,” Marco put in.
“We need to hit them soon, while they’re guard is down. They think we’re weak without Dad at the helm. We need to prove them wrong,” Gabriel said.
Of all of us, he appeared to be the most effected by our father’s death, his eyes noticeably red-rimmed. Much like I’m sure mine were. No one had mentioned my extended absence in the wake of the Bianchi’s attack. But then I’d feel no obligation to explain myself, even if they did.
“Whatever decision we come to, we need to stick together as a united front. Now is not the time to bring in outsiders,” Alessandro stated, keeping his eyes downcast. I knew he was avoiding my gaze because the outsider he spoke of was Molly.
“Yes, I noticed an extra room being occupied upstairs,” Marco said, not keeping his eyes downcast. “First, you don’t let us kill her, and now she’s being given free rein to wander around the house. That’s awfully trusting of you. You fuck her already or something?”
My temper ignited. “That’s pretty rich coming from Mr. Manwhore Extraordinaire.”
Gabriel huffed out a mirthless laugh and rolled his eyes, his way of agreeing with me. Marco and Alessandro were both prodigious womanizers. They changed sexual partners as frequently as most people changed socks.
Of course, I’d been like that, as well, years ago. Before I’d fallen for the mother of my child.
I’d once accidentally walked in on Marco having a ménage a trois. He’d been naked and blindfolded with whipped cream covering everything but what most needed to be covered. I’d made an abrupt about-face, wishing I’d been blindfolded, too.
But we needed to get back to the matter at hand.
“Molly Greene is my concern, not yours. The house is clear, and there’s no evidence of anyone on the grounds. I’ve doubled security along the perimeter and around the mansion. I think what we all need is some rest. We’ll meet again tomorrow at noon.”
My brothers departed, going their separate ways. I stood too rapidly and was swept by a wave of vertigo. I braced my hands on the table, closing my eyes as it passed. I needed a hot shower and about ten hours of sleep, but the only thing I’d probably get was the shower. When I opened my eyes, I found Gabriel at my side.
“You all right, bro?”
I almost said I was fine. It was my automatic response, my pat answer and ready lie. I’d said it so much over the past twelve months it seemed ridiculous. It was ridiculous, especially given how expressly false it was.
“Not really.” I surprised myself by uttering the bitter truth. “You?”
He grinned mournfully, his voice coming out as broken as crushed glass. “Not really.”
I embraced him, giving him a couple of hard brotherly pats on the back. He looked as shaky as I felt. I could’ve offered him any number of the limitless platitudes I’d been fed over the past year. You’ll get through this. Or, things will get better. Or even, this too shall pass. But it was all bullshit. And no one knew that better than I did.
“You think Dad actually stole from the Bianchis?” he asked me.
“I don’t want to believe that, but I honestly don’t know. I’ll tell you one thing, though. If I find out that they’re lying about all this, that they dared to come here and execute our father at his own house in cold blood, I’ll strangle Donovan Bianchi with my own two hands. Then I’ll make it our goal in life to take everything they own.”
Part of me wanted to strike out at the Bianchis no matter what the report said. No one had ever violated the sanctity of our home before. No one had ever even stepped foot on our property without a proper invitation.
The walls of this mansion, while sometimes feeling too restrictive, had also been my refuge and my shelter, especially during my youth. I’d felt safe and secure here and had trusted that the same would be true for my daughter.
As gut wrenchingly horrible as it’d been to lose Alana, during those few brief seconds when I thought Anna had been ripped away from me too, I hadn’t been able to function. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe.
&nb
sp; If I had found my baby dead in Greta’s arms, I wouldn’t have survived it. I knew that much for certain. I’d have taken my nine-millimeter, put it in my mouth, and pulled the trigger. It would’ve been my only alternative. There was only so much one person could take.
Gabriel stared at me for one long moment, as if he could read all these thoughts as they crossed my mind. Then eventually, he nodded. We split apart and headed off up the stairs, neither of us needing to speak another word.
11
Molly