Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
The call went to voice mail, but whoever it was must have bypassed that to call back because it started to ring again.
“Persistent.” I watched Gia swallow, her eyes wide on mine when I released her.
I went into the study and checked the display, swiping the screen to answer the call.
“Salvatore?” I hadn’t expected him to be so quick with the information.
“I have some bad news.”
His voice was so low and grave, my heart fell to my stomach.
“What is it?” I sounded normal, like myself, but it was like I stood outside myself, watching. Like it wasn’t me at all who held the phone and listened to him tell his news.
“It’s our…it’s Franco.”
I sank onto the couch, a sudden chill raising goose bumps all over my body.
“What?” It came out tight.
“He passed away, Dominic. Roman found him.”
“Just a girl…”
I turned to find Gia coming inside, watched her smile vanish when she saw my face.
What? she mouthed.
“They think it was another heart attack,” Salvatore continued.
I didn’t care. I didn’t care. I didn’t fucking care.
“You should come to the house,” he said finally.
“When did it happen?”
“More than a day ago. He’d sent his staff home. Stupid old fool. He’d sent them all away.”
“He was in the house dead for more than a day?”
“Yes.”
Silence. Gia knelt at my feet, her curious, worried face turned up to mine as if she’d draw information from my mind.
“Will you come to the house, Dominic?” Salvatore asked. “I’m on my way. My flight boards in a few minutes.”
“What is it?” Gia whispered.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Dominic,” Salvatore started again, then sighed.
“I have to go,” I barely managed before hanging up, shock having made a mute out of me.
“What?” Gia persisted.
I looked down at her eager face. “Franco Benedetti is dead. My uncle found him this morning.”
No emotion crossed her face. She watched mine instead, waiting.
“I should be dancing, right?” I said wildly, standing swiftly, rubbing the back of my neck, walking a circle, not seeing her rise, not seeing anything. “I should celebrate.”
“Dominic.”
She touched my shoulder. I flinched, shrugging her off.
“Dominic.”
She was more persistent this time, her touch more firm. “He was the only father you knew. It’s natural—”
I looked at her, unable to speak. Not wanting her to see me, not now, not like this. Too much fucking emotion I should not be feeling. Too many memories flooding back, too much anger, too much rage, too much fucking goddamned regret.
“Go away, Gia.”
“No.”
“Leave me alone.”
She shook her head.
Franco Benedetti was dead. And his last words to me had been to deny me. To humiliate me. His last fucking words disowned me.
“Dominic.”
“Fucking let me go, Gia,” I snapped.
What she saw in my eyes frightened her. I knew it. I saw it. Hell, I felt it. She stepped backward, like she’d done in that room in the cabin. She kept her eyes on me, watching, as if she waited for her enemy to strike. To be prepared for when he did.
I ran a hand through my hair. I almost said something, but then I didn’t. I walked out the door instead, fished the keys out of my pocket, made sure she was locked in the house behind me, and I drove off the property. I needed to think. To get these fucking emotions under control. He had made me weak in life; he would not do so in death. I wouldn’t give him that power over me, not ever again.
I hated him.
I needed to remember that I hated Franco Benedetti.
18
Gia
Dominic’s cell phone rang again. He’d left it in the study. I rushed back into the room and picked it up, reading the display before swiping to answer the call.
“Hello?”
Hesitation on the other end.
“Salvatore?” I asked.
“Who’s this?”
“Gia. Gia Castellano.”
Silence.
“Are you still there?”
“Where’s my brother, Gia?”
“He just left. He wouldn’t talk to me. I think he needs space to process what you just told him.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Where are you? No, don’t tell me.”
I heard a final boarding announcement in the background.
“Look, I don’t know you. I heard about your brother, though, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
I snorted. Didn’t people know it didn’t help to hear that?
“But my brother needs someone right now. He probably shouldn’t be alone, Gia. I don’t know your relationship—”
“He’ll be back.”
“You sound confident of that.”
“I am. And I’ll be here when he is.”
“If you can, try to get him to come to the house. The funeral will be tomorrow afternoon. It’s probably good for him to say good-bye.”
“I don’t know that he’s ready for that. I don’t know the whole story, but from what I’ve seen, he’s been running from this for seven years.”
“I know. That’s Dominic. Predictable. He’ll always take the most extreme route.”
It irritated me that he called Dominic predictable, but then, in the way Salvatore said it, I had to agree. My mind moved to something else. “Will the Scava’s be at the funeral?”