He respected only one thing—strength. Which is why he loathed dying a weak man.
I turn to Gino. “Let’s not keep our families in this decades-long standoff over something that happened before I was even born. Let me repay you for the damage my father caused.”
He lifts his shoulder. “I appreciate the gesture. I do. And maybe we can start there. But I can’t promise that it will be enough, because it wasn’t just my business that was harmed that night.”
Foreboding slithers down my spine.
“You’re married now. One day, you might disappoint your wife the way I disappointed mine that Christmas, and if you love her, maybe you’ll find it just as difficult to forgive the man who caused that disappointment.” His gaze leaves me, moving back to the Manhattan skyline. “That year was hard on Vita. I was away a lot, always working, always trying to grow the business. We were newlyweds, and she was adjusting to a world that was completely new to her. I tore her away from the life she had, a life where she was successful and independent and happy, all because I promised I’d make her happier, but that year, I failed on my promise.”
I take a sip of my whiskey. Gino might be the only don in this city married to an outsider. I can see why he thought Vita was worth the trouble. Even now that she’s older, she is a strikingly beautiful woman. His affection for her is blatant. He doesn’t try to hide that he worships her.
How strange. Isn’t he afraid someone will use her against him one day?
“Cosimo was one. Vita was already pregnant with Alessio. She spent all evening with our baby, both of them waiting for me to return so that we could enjoy that moment with our little family. But I didn’t come back until the morning, and I brought bad news.” He sighs. “That lone guard was Vita’s cousin, Andy. Andy was ostracized by the rest of her family for being an addict. But Vita never gave up on him. She helped him get clean, and she even got him a job with me. She invited him to spend Christmas with us, but he wanted to work, wanted to be busy on the night when those with messed up families feel most alone. Imagine how it felt for me to tell her that he’d died.”
Fuck. My jaw clenches.
I wonder if my father knew the man’s identity. Probably. He was exceptionally good at finding other people’s weak spots.
“Vita struggled for a while. My boy seemed to act differently toward me too, even though he was far too young to understand what had happened. Seeing how I hurt them broke my heart.” He draws a loud breath through his nose and exhales with a shake of his head. “Not much gets to me like that.”
Emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Disappointment, pain, grief…
I shift on my feet, uneasy. He’s opening up to me, leaving his feelings bare for me to see. His love for his family. His love for his wife. His need to protect them. Doesn’t he know doing this is a sign of weakness? You don’t reveal your soft spots to a rival. Even better, you don’t develop soft spots at all.
When he meets my eyes, there’s a clear warning in his, the kind that can’t be misunderstood. He’s telling me that if I ever hope to establish peace between us, I have to stay the fuck away from him and the people he loves.
I smooth my hand over my tie. I’m not a fan of apologizing for my father’s many sins, but the situation warrants it.
“I’m sorry. I know my father never apologized to you, and hearing it from me won’t carry the same weight, but I want you to know that I am sorry for the harm he caused you.”
It appears it’s the right thing to do. Gino’s gaze flashes with a hint of respect. “I can see you’re sincere, and I appreciate it.”
He brings his glass of whiskey to his lips and finishes it off. “Let’s keep this conversation going. We should touch base week to week. The threat of the Bratva isn’t one we should ignore, and it will serve everyone if the two big players in the city are a united front.”
Good. This is progress. “I agree.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “We should go back.”
I look toward the room, searching for Cleo on the other side of the glass. But I don’t see her anywhere.
CHAPTER 28
RAFAELE
I reenter through the sliding doors and glance around the room. Vita and two of her sons are by the bar cart having a heated discussion about something.
Where’s Garzolo? More importantly, where is my wife?
The staccato of her heels reaches my ears before she pops out of a random hallway. Cosimo is a few steps behind her. My eyes narrow. What were they doing there together? And why does she look so flustered?
I cross the room. Her steps slow when she sees me approach.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” She says it too quickly, and her cheeks are flushed.
An ugly suspicion blooms inside me. “Where were you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Why was Cosimo following behind you?”
She crosses her arms and huffs an annoyed breath. “Because I was sucking his cock.”
My vision darkens at the edges. What the—
“God, I’m joking,” she snaps. “Relax.”
“Bad joke,” I growl.
She shakes her head and looks around the room like she’s searching for someone. “How much longer until we can get out of here?”
What is going on with her? “We can leave now.”
We say our goodbyes and leave the condominium. Cleo won’t meet my eye on the elevator ride to the parking lot.
My jaw clenches. “Cleo.”
“What?” she asks the floor.
For fuck’s sake. I corner her against one of the mirrored walls and lift her chin. “What’s going on with you?”
She drops her gaze to stare at my chest, clamping on her bottom lip with her teeth.
I nudge her chin higher, forcing her to look at me. “Answer me.”
“Drop it,” she breathes.
“No.”
The elevator door opens. She pushes past me, hurrying into the lot, but I’m right behind her.
I grab her forearm. “Cleo—”
She winces like I’m hurting her. I know I’m not. My grip is firm, but not enough to be painful. I pull her sleeve up and see a handprint on her forearm. A hot wave of anger rolls through me.
He. Hurt. My. Wife?
He’s a fucking dead man. I disengage the knife strapped to my wrist, letting the handle slide into my waiting palm, and start walking back to the elevator. I’m going to slice off the hand Cosimo used to do this. And then I’m going to feed it to that fucking koi.
“Rafe! What are you doing?” Cleo shouts after me.
“Gonna cut him.”
There’s a gasp and I hear her heels clacking against the concrete floor as she tries to catch up to me. “He’s already gone! You can’t just walk back into Ferraro’s home with a knife! What’s wrong with you?”
I halt. “Who’s gone?”
“My father.” She comes around me, blocking my path.
My thoughts rush to catch up. “Your father did this to you?”