Chapter 20

CHAPTERTWENTY

DOM STARED OUT at the beautiful scenery surrounding him and could understand why Luca would never want to leave a place like this. With its deep blue waters and soaring mountain views, Lake Como was one of the most peaceful places on earth…for most. For him it brought back too many memories—memories he’d rather forget—and the best way to do that was to stay as far away from their origin as possible.

He’d done a pretty good job of it too, until now, only having come back here once in the last two decades. His family had tried to recapture the beauty and magic of the lake, but quickly learned that some things were better left untouched. So Via Besana Moltrasio had been locked up ever since.

He closed his eyes and tried to let the gentle ebb and flow calm the chaos that came whenever he thought about before. But now that the seed had been planted, he found it difficult to stop it taking root.

“I’m sorry if I said something to upset you,” Luca said, pulling him from his thoughts.

“You didn’t.”

“Are you sure? You’ve gone all broody and quiet.”

Dom glanced over his shoulder to Luca. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the scenery.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly strike me as the kind of guy to stop and take in a moment.”

The kid was far too perceptive for his own good, but, not about to admit that, Dom went back to staring at the mountains. He took in a deep breath, and just as he was about to shut his eyes, Luca sat in the spot beside him.

“Can I ask you something?”

Dom let out a sigh. “You just did.”

“Stop it. I’m being serious. I was going to ask you earlier, but I got distracted.”

Knowing there was no way to stop the kid when he wanted to know something, Dom nodded. “Go ahead, ask.”

Luca looked down at the polished wood panels and ran his fingers over the gold inlay. “Who’s Giuliana?”

Like he’d taken a fist to the gut, Dom’s stomach clenched. “You can ask anything but that.”

“Why? Who was—”

“I said anything but that.”

“But—”

“Stop talking.”

“I just…” Luca frowned and rubbed at his hand. “I just wanted to tell you it’s a beautiful name. Was it your mom’s?”

“Fucking hell.” Dom shoved his hand through his hair and moved to get to his feet, but Luca took hold of his arm. “Let go.”

“I’m—”

“I swear if you say you’re sorry, I just might—” Dom bit off the threat, knowing it was no longer true, and instead shook Luca’s hand free. “It was my sister’s name, okay? You fucking happy now?”

When Luca just blinked at him, Dom let out another curse and moved off the back of the boat. He retook his seat behind the wheel and was reaching for the key when an image of a little girl with a mop of black curls flashed before his eyes.

Dom squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to banish the vision, but it was too late now, too present in his head. His chest began to tighten.

Fuck. This was the last thing he wanted to think about, the one thing he’d been actively working to avoid while he was here. But as his defenses began to crumble, the cracks opened and let in the unbearable.

A beautiful lady with a wide-brimmed hat.

A smile that could make any day brighter.

And a little girl bouncing on her lap, giggling at something her mamma had just—

“Dom?”

Dom jerked away from the hand that had just landed on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried. I just… I didn’t realize you had another sister.”

“I don’t.” Dom clenched his teeth as he looked out into the vastness of the lake. What had appeared beautiful only minutes ago now felt empty and cold. “She died—was killed—years ago.”

Luca gasped. “Oh my God. Dom, I had no idea.”

“Why would you?”

“I…” Luca shook his head, his eyes wide and a little glassy. “I don’t know.”

“Or maybe you did know. After all, your father’s the one who did it.” Dom wasn’t sure why he said that. He knew full well that Luca didn’t know anything about why his family was warring with the Fiores. But as the old memories continued to flood in, so did the old anger.

“My…my father killed your sister?”

Dom pinned Luca with a cold stare. “Yes, and that’s why he is going to die.”

“EW, IT SMELLS all gross and fishy in here, papà. Can Dom take me outside?”

Dom laughed as his ten-year-old sister Caterina screwed her nose up at the large bins of ice propped up to display the rows of red snapper.

It was Sunday, family day, and that meant a trip to the local fish markets. It didn’t matter where in the world the Rossettis were—Lake Como or Manhattan—if they were together, it was a day for church, food markets, and family dinner.

“What do I always tell you, my dear Caterina? What you’re smelling isn’t fishy or gross. It is nature’s bounty and man’s—”

“Hard work!” Dom and Caterina chorused, the speech a familiar one.

“That’s right.” Their father walked up between them and placed his hands on their shoulders. “And if you work hard, good things will come to you, too.”

Dom rolled his eyes. This was another familiar speech of their father’s. One he took very seriously. Dom didn’t know of any other kid bagging groceries like he was after school. But then again, they didn’t have a father who was always talking about “when I was fifteen, I was out on the fishing boats with my father.”

Dom supposed he should be lucky that bagging groceries was his first job. His parents were friends with the family who owned the little bodega, and it gave his father a good excuse to stop in once a week to pick up the weekly special put aside just for him.

Actually, it was like that all around the city. No matter where they went, it seemed someone knew Dom’s father and had something to offer, and the markets were no different.

“Vincenzo!” A big, burly guy behind one of the fish stands greeted Dom’s father the way he did every Sunday, with a smile and his arms held out like they were long-lost friends.

“Mario!”

Vincenzo headed over to the end of the stand, and Dom was about to go with him when a light hand on his shoulder made him stop.

“You wait here with me and the girls,” his mother said, as she handed Dom a wipe and gestured to his baby sister Giuliana’s grinning face. Dom crouched down and chuckled when he saw blueberries smeared all over her hands and face.

“You’re supposed to eat them, picciriella, not paint with them.” As he wiped off her hands, she giggled and reached out to draw a blueberry line down his cheek.

“Pretty,” she said as Dom did his best to move out of her reach.

“Stop.”

Giuliana picked up a couple more of the berries on her tray and squished them between her fingers. When they popped open, she laughed with delight, and her bright blue eyes—just like their mother’s—shone up at him. “It’s sticky.”

Dom sighed and took her hand again, wiping it clean. “Then stop popping them.”

He was just about to ask for some more wipes when Caterina shrieked behind them. He jumped to his feet, and his mother quickly turned to see what all the commotion was about.

Dom’s heart raced as an irrational sense of fear gripped him and he scanned the markets, starting to think of ways to get to his sister. But when he spotted a man dangling an octopus in front of her face, he immediately let out a sigh of relief.

Why did he think something would be wrong? Caterina was just being a silly girl. She hated coming to the fish markets; he knew that. But when he turned around to see his father back by his mother’s side with a protective arm around her shoulders, something in Dom’s stomach twisted.

He’d thought something was wrong too… Why?

“Wait here while I go and get your sister.”

Dom nodded, his father’s tone scaring him a little as he marched off toward Caterina.

“What’s wrong with papà?”

His mother reached out to cradle his face and smiled down at him. “Nothing, figlio mio. I think he got a bit of a scare, that’s all.”

“Why? It’s just Cat being a silly girl.”

“Yes, but sometimes when we love someone and hear them screaming like that”—she grinned, and her smile was so comforting that Dom couldn’t help but smile back—“we worry unnecessarily, that’s all.”

When she brushed a hand over his hair, Dom turned back to see his father’s hand around Caterina’s and his sister pouting so big you could see it from outer space.

“I think we’ve had enough fun and excitement for the day, don’t you?” Vincenzo aimed a half-smile over the stroller. “Serafina? Why don’t you take Giuliana back to the car and get her organized while I pick up these last two items? Dom and Caterina can help me carry them out.”

Mother moved around the stroller, took her husband’s face between her hands, and kissed him on the lips. “Very well. But you need to stop worrying so much, amore mio. It was just an octopus.”

A frown formed on Vincenzo’s brow, but he patted her hand. “You’re right, I know.” He leaned down and bopped Giuliana on the nose. “But we need to get the little miss home anyway. She’s out of blueberries, and you know what that means?”

“The blues tantrums,” they all said at once, smiling at Giuliana, who giggled and clapped her hands.

Mother gave a small wave before turning the stroller around and weaving her way out of the market. Several passersby stopped to smile and coo at little Giuliana, and several of the men behind the counters stopped to “ogle” her mamma—at least, that’s what Vincenzo called it.

“Okay, let’s go. Dom, you keep an eye on your sister.”

That was a job Dom knew he could do. His whole life his father had been telling him how important it was to always put family first, and ever since Caterina and Giuliana were born, he’d been there to look after them, and one day—when it was time—he’d be the head of the Rossetti family.

With his eyes on Caterina, he followed his father back to Mario’s stand.

“You got those parcels ready for me?”

Mario’s eyes flicked to Caterina and Dom before shifting back to Vincenzo.

“Sure do, boss. One sec.”

He disappeared for just a moment before returning with one long rectangular package wrapped in paper, and a second, smaller square one on top. He handed them off to Vincenzo, then gave a short nod.

“I’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll be here. Till then, Mario.” Vincenzo took the small square box and handed it to Dom. It was wrapped in a different kind of paper than the one Father was holding. It looked like black satin, not the sheets of paper wrap for the fish in the market, and around the box was a black ribbon—carefully tied and knotted on top.

“Now, you hang on to that tight, okay? It’s very important. Can you do that for me, son?”

Dom nodded, pleased that his father trusted him so. “Yes, papà. I’ll be very careful.”

“I know you will.” Vincenzo smiled, the pride in his eyes shining through. “You’re a good boy. And you,” he said, turning to Caterina, “can hold my hand. No more running off today, you hear me?”

Caterina took their father’s hand, and as the three of them made their way through the stands of fish and shellfish, Dom stared down at the box, wondering what was inside, his mind playing fantastical tricks.

Was it treasure?

Or maybe a map to some treasure?

He wasn’t sure, but he imagined it held jewels from far-off lands and secrets of the great unknown.

Dom smiled to himself, and was about to ask his father if he could be there when they opened it, when a loud BOOM blasted through the air and blew him clear off his feet. Glass shattered and fell all around him as his back hit something hard. His ears rang as people started to scream.

Chaos began to erupt on every side of him. Dom blinked and rubbed at his eyes, squinting through the dust and debris, trying to see his father.

“Papà!” he called out. He went to push to his feet, but something sharp and pointy dug into his hand. He gasped and quickly brought his hand up to see a shard of glass.

Dom winced and bravely pulled it free, and as he threw it on the ground he spotted his father across from him shoving a piece of wood off Caterina. She crawled free, dirt and dust covering her from head to toe, and Dom ran over to them.

That was when it happened. His father let out a bloodcurdling cry.

“Nooooo!”

Fear skated up Dom’s spine as he looked in the direction his father was running.

“Serafina! Giuliana!”

As the smoke began to clear, Dom saw several people running toward the road where his mother and baby sister had headed only minutes earlier. The shell of what was once a car—their car—was nothing more than a firepit.

Dom’s eyes blurred and his entire body began to shake as what he was seeing began to compute.

“D…Dom?” Caterina said.

Dom blinked at his father, who was trying to wrestle men off him as he tried to push through to the wreckage of the car. But it was no use, there was nothing left of it, and Dom watched the strongest man in his world crumple to the ground, his shouts of pain and anguish reverberating through the air like thunder.

Where was mamma? Where was baby Giuliana? Dom couldn’t believe what he was seeing, couldn’t allow his mind to go there. But as the sound of his father’s racking sobs filled the air, he knew the truth.

Heartache and fear twisted in his gut as Caterina shook his hand again.

“Dom? Where’s papà? Who’s crying?”

Dom moved in front of her—blocking any possible view now that the shock was starting to wear off—and looked into her wide eyes. She had a small cut above her right brow and blood was trickling down her temple.

Tears threatened to spill free, but Dom did his best to focus on her, to banish the horror he’d just witnessed with what he knew he needed to do—look after his sister and get her somewhere safe.

Dom squeezed Caterina’s hand as he crouched down to look her in the eye.

“Papà will be back in just a minute.” He looked at the box he was still holding and handed it to Caterina, thinking it might help distract her. “Why don’t you hang on to this for me while we find somewhere safe to wait for him, okay?”

She bit at her bottom lip but nodded and drew the box to her chest.

Dom glanced behind her, looking for somewhere safe they could wait, but the place was a disaster. Beams hung from the roof and glass and wood was scattered all over the place, but eventually Dom spotted a bunch of debris that had fallen into a heap. Out from under any kind of loose ceiling structures, it looked safe enough, and from what he could tell, he’d be able to keep Caterina’s attention away from the front of the market.

“I think I found somewhere,” he said, and led her over to their new waiting spot. Dom could hear the sound of sirens off in the distance now.

He settled Caterina on top of the pile and stood guard in front of her.

“Dom? Where’s mamma? Where’s papà?”

Dom choked back the cry he wanted to let free and braced himself to face her.

“I don’t know. But they’ll be back soon,” he lied.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, and Dom nodded.

“I am too.”

“But we’ll be okay, won’t we?”

Dom turned to look out at the people helping each other from the rubble of the building and wasn’t so sure. They might’ve been alive and going to survive, but he wasn’t sure their family—or their father—would ever be okay again.

He brushed away his tears and straightened his small shoulders, then looked back at his sister with the best smile he could manage.

“Of course we will be. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay, and we’ll be going home soon.”

He hated lying but knew it was for the best. This was the moment his father had always talked to him about, becoming a Rossetti male. He would take on this burden for her now, until it was time to tell her that their mamma and baby Giuliana would never be coming home again.

THE SOUND OF water lapping at the edge of the boat was all Dom could hear as he stared out at the sailboats up ahead.

He felt numb, completely devoid of any emotion, as he tried to process a memory that he’d buried deep for over two decades.

“Dom…”

His name in that soft voice made him shake his head and fight off the feelings now threatening to crash in.

“Dom.” Luca placed his hand on Dom’s leg.

Dom slapped it away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Luca asked. “Touch you?”

“Feel sorry for me. Pity me.”

“I…I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to stop that. What you went through—what your family went through—was horrific.”

Dom whirled on him, grabbing Luca’s arm and hauling him in close. “And your father caused it.”

“No.” Luca shook his head. “My sperm donor, maybe, but you know that monster isn’t my father. I would never do what they did. Take a mother, take an innocent baby from their family like that. I’m nothing like them.”

Dom felt his temple pounding as he stared into Luca’s earnest eyes and felt the overwhelming grief bubble up inside him.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. It must’ve been an incredibly difficult and painful time for you all.”

“It’s still incredibly painful and difficult. It never stops.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“No, you can’t.” Dom tightened his fingers around Luca’s wrist, and that perfect face began to blur. Shit, now he was crying. “I watched the strongest man I know crumble and fall that day. I watched him be brought to his knees by a piece of shit Fiore who was scared of someone smarter and more sophisticated moving into his town. But he took it too far. He went after the one thing every family knew was off-limits—the innocents—and for that he was given a death sentence.”

Luca nodded. “That I can understand.”

“Can you?” Dom released him with a light shove. “Can you truly understand the soul-destroying vengeance that takes hold of a man when his wife and child are blown to smithereens right before his very eyes?”

Dom turned back to Luca. “You will never understand that pain, that drive, but that’s why we’re all here. Why we’re in this fucked-up predicament we now find ourselves in. Fiore took our family that day, he destroyed it, then he sent you away as a safety option in case my father decided to retaliate.”

Luca blinked, the wheels turning behind those intelligent eyes. “But that wasn’t the plan?”

“No. My father was smarter than that, and we were more determined than ever to avenge my mother and sister. He wasn’t going to retaliate until he was ready. Until he knew we could win.”

“And that time is now.”

“It was, until you showed up.”

As Dom’s words landed between them like the bomb that had first set off this war, the two of them fell silent. The implications of everything that had just been revealed were alarming and horrifying.

Dom was a Rossetti and Luca was a Fiore, and nothing—not time, not a place, not a different fucking name on a passport—would ever change that.