“He’s not getting away free,” my father states. He sounds more reserved now, as if getting rid of Giovanni has allowed his mind to find some order. “This is going to snap him back into reality. This will hit him one day, and he will be back to get what he knows he deserves.” My father breathes, trying to rationalize how fast he’s losing. “He just needs to straighten things out.”
“Like that will fucking work,” I scoff, pushing away from Zane. “You will always save the wrong ones. You will always have faith in the wrong ones. You just proved that beautifully! Whatever happens in this life, we’re all screwed because we’re all too good for your liking. Manuel has been dead over a week, and Giovanni is still free. What does that say about you? Why haven’t you tried to make us feel loved and protected after what he did to us?” I ask, my voice begging to break. My eyes begin to water as I recognize that I just want my father to realize what he should be doing. “Why aren’t you breaking down doors and pitching threats for us? Giovanni has done nothing but lived by sadistic notion after sadistic notion and now you’re aiding and abetting that.”
“Like I did you!” he shouts at me, casting my own sins at me. His outburst tells me he doesn’t know quite what to say.
With that, I slap my father across the face. All of my remaining energy goes into that hit. The resounding noise rings around the room as my brothers come back in to find our father cradling his face while I stand seething before him. I don’t remember moving quite so fast, but I did and I never felt happier to hit him than I just did.
“I will live with my own actions until the day I die. That’s my penance for when I’m free of you. I don’t need you to condemn me after what you made of me.” I drop back, my chest heaving. “I hope that the sight of Manuel’s body never leaves you and I hope to God that the image of me bleeding out on your desk is one you see every time you close your eyes. It’s about time you were haunted by this life.”
“She’s right,” Enzo agrees with me, coming to my side to face our father. “We are a family who look out for one another apart from you and Gio. You are nothing more than a greedy man who doesn’t care about whether blood is thicker than water. Your son killed your own and you let him run! You let him leave. Where is Manuel’s chance to do that?” he asks, finally broken of his own silent stupor.
“He chose to stay for us like we all did. We were an alliance, a true family,” Carlo starts, raining down on my father as well. “He didn’t want to leave because we stuck around. We are all still here because of one another, not because of the fear of the great Salvatore Abbiati’s reign. We were never here to worship the Dio Lavoro.”
“I hope when you realize you’ve lost it all, you were wrong to always silence Giovanni’s actions,” Bruno begins, finally chiming in. “He is one of the reasons I needed a better chance of saving Amelia and Manuel. I might have failed, but you watch, Sal, I will not stop until my family is free of you and this life. They are not made for you anymore.”
“They wouldn’t ever leave me.” My father strives for confidence in that statement, but even he looks among us hopelessly.
“I’ve wanted to leave for a while actually,” I intercept my father, uncaring of my harshness. “I wanted to leave before, but now I want to run. I can’t live here much longer.” Now, all of the callous, devilish imps within me become free. “I wish there was something I could do to you to make you see what we’ve all been reduced to, but what’s the point?” I ask rhetorically, knowing he’ll never be more than the man he is – the man who will never choose rightfully. “The Dio Del Sangue will never, ever see the hell he’s unleashed upon his own because he’s finally gotten the one child who will do all of his bidding without even a showing of a conscience. I hope that thought keeps you warm at night.”
“Amelia,” my father calls as I turn to leave. “You do not get to talk to me like this!” His tone is trying not to bellow, but even I can hear the struggle. “You don’t get to walk away from me after this!”
“Leave her,” Zane says, stepping in to defend me. He blocks my father’s direct path toward me, pushing a hand firmly into my father’s chest. “You and I might have been business partners, but now, I am here for your daughter and your remaining sons who aren’t as a sick and twisted as you are.”
“You do not get to disregard your position with me like this!” my father argues.
“Oh, but I do,” Zane remarks. “My tie to this family is no longer with you Salvatore. My loyalty is with your daughter and I will see that men like you never get near her again.” Even as I step out of the room, Zane’s fight for me doesn’t waver. “My promise to Giovanni includes you. You try and hurt her again and I will make sure you see just how good of a cop I am.”
I leave as a war of voices erupts; this is how our life is meant to be – each of us at one another’s throats.