Sal was known to the world as The Great Salvatore, and to the government as the biggest pain in their asses. He might’ve been a world-renowned hacker, but to Dante, he was Salvatore Lastra, the boy he had picked up off the street many moons ago. It was the exact person whom Nadia had spoken of that had Dante opening his wallet to give her the donation to Moonbeam.
He had been good to the kid, arguably better and more of a father to Sal than he had been to his own kids, but that was because looking at Sal never reminded him of her. In return of the good fortune Dante had given him, Sal had joined the Caruso family and did things for him none of his other men could possibly dream of doing behind a computer screen. The folder he stared down at that contained probably everything he ever needed to know about Nadia Brooks was one of them.
Opening it, he noticed the first thing that was written about Nadia was that she was of Greek descent. That explained a lot of the similarities yet differences between them, like why her tanned skin was more bronze and why her athletic body looked like it had been chiseled. However, that was as far as he had gotten when his door barged open for the second time.
“What the fuck did you do?”
Dante looked up from his desk to see his youngest son. “What I did?” he asked harshly, knowing he must’ve passed Nadia on her way out. “She didn’t give me the chance to say or do anything!”
“Well, I certainly didn’t see you chasing after her!”
Even though his son’s response might’ve been harsh itself, it was true …
“I just needed a fucking minute to gather my thoughts.”
Frustrated at his predicament, he hadn’t known what to feel, especially before she had walked in that door. After that night they had spent together on the yacht, he had been trying his damnedest to ignore her, even though it was impossible and proved itself so when it had blown up. Even the smallest interaction had him breaking his will, although he blamed it on the immense pressure and predicament they had landed in. Dante had told himself that he would figure it out when they got back to Kansas City, but she hadn’t even given him a chance to do so. She had decided it all on her own, and sure, he should have been faster on the uptake, but it had been a long fucking time since he had been faced with these kinds of feelings, and he was rusty. It really wasn’t until he had just watched her walk out that fucking door, and knowing his late wife, Melissa, would approve of her, that he finally accepted his feelings.
“What is that?” Leo asked, looking down at his desk to the folder.
Unfortunately, there was no hiding it, as his son had already seen her name at the top of the page. “I asked Sal for—”
“You didn’t even need to do that,” Leo hissed, knowing exactly what it was. “She would have told you anything you wanted to know about her, if you had fucking cared to ask.”
He had been curious, as a father would be, with what they had talked about, and he had expected their conversation to be about Leo. He hadn’t expected, however, the possibility they might’ve talked about her.
“So, that’s what you two talked about? Nadia?’
“Partly,” his son admitted, keeping the rest of their conversation hidden. “But if you finish reading that, you’ll be making a mistake.” He nodded toward the folder. “Whatever is in there, you should want to hear it from her.”
Slowly, Dante closed the folder, knowing his son was right.
When a satisfied Leo went to leave his office, he quickly got out of his chair. “Son, wait.”
Leo halted.
Meeting him on the other side, he stared down at his son. Out of all of his children, being around Leo hurt the most. Before the accident, it had hurt because he was the most like Melissa, his kindness and pure heart a constant reminder of what he had lost. After the accident, however, it hurt from how much he had changed. He no longer resembled Melissa, and that was what broke him, because now his choices had cost his son an eye, like it had cost his wife’s life.
Looking into his ocean eye, he remembered Nadia’s questions she had asked of Leo …
“Do you plan on working for your father?”
“I used to think so.”
“And now?”
“And now I don’t know.”
Dante had left the table because he had known exactly what his son’s thoughts were, and he hadn’t been a good enough father in the moment, but he wanted to try now.
“I want you to know that you could have lost both of your eyes, and I still would have found you a place in the family, if that’s what you wanted.”