Page 177 of Vicious Intentions
“She died from lung cancer when I was fifteen. But she had stopped a few years earlier than that. She was too weak from all the chemo to torment me.”
“And what about your brother, Carlo? Why didn’t he stop his mother from hurting you?”
I let out a slow breath. “Ginevra always made sure to hurt Nico and me when he wasn’t around. But Carlo saw the marks his mother left on us. He knew. If he ever said anything to her, he never told me about it. He was our champion when it came to theCosa Nostra. He demanded that everycaposaw and respected us as his full-fledged brothers, even when we weren’t. But when it came to all the horrors we had to endure in that house, he couldn’t do much.”
“Yes, he could have,” Anna says, propping herself up on her elbow to look deep into my eyes. “If anything like that ever happened to me, none of my siblings would have allowed it to continue. Not for a second.”
“You think that now,” I reply quietly, “but you don’t know for sure. People say that they will stand by you when the chips are down, say that they will defend you when you need them to… but you never know. People say a lot of things and rarely mean any of it.”
Anna’s lips press into a thin line, displeased with my rationalization.
“Marcello and Stella would’ve protected me. I know that for sure.”
A memory surfaces with the certainty in her voice. A message she had sent to my brother when the two were thick as thieves, and I was nothing to her. A message that talked about two classmates who had tried to take what wasn’t theirs. To tarnish what they should have never even touched. Stella and Marcello made sure they paid for that mistake with their lives.
One day, when hell welcomes me, they will be the first faces I’ll visit.
I’ll make their eternity a nightmare they will never wake up from.
“Family protects family, Matteo. Carlo should have done more for you,” she adds, bringing me back to her.
Anna’s right. Her siblings would’ve done anything to protect her. They are about to start a war just for her. Mine, however, couldn’t be bothered. No, not mine. Mine implies my whole family. Just Carlo. Carlo didn’t lift a finger to help me.
I can’t fault Niccolò. Not only was he younger than me, but he was too busy fending off his own monsters. And as for Raffaele, he was just a kid. We made sure to always protect him, and that all the shit Niccolò and I had to endure never touched him. However, Carlo—who was twelve years older than me and already respected as a young soldier within thefamiglia—could have ended it. He could have ended all of it.
The realization sits heavy in my chest. Especially since I always idolized him.
“There lies the difference between you and I, sweetheart. Your family loves you,” I say after a moment. “Most of mine tolerate me at best.”
Anna’s expression softens as she settles back against my chest, the words hanging above us like a cruel joke.
Maybe, when it comes down to it, she does too. Perhaps all I can hope for is my wifetoleratingme. Just as the thought starts to take hold of my heart, she presses a kiss to my chest.
“You are loved, Matteo. I’m sorry if you’ve lived your life thinking otherwise. But you are loved.”
My heart cracks open at her words, praying she’s right, that maybe, just maybe, she’s the one who loves me most.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s night. Somewhere between making my wife come and telling her all about my sordid past, exhaustion finally claimed me. But as I take in the room, something feels off. Something important is missing. Someone I can’t live without. Anna’s gone. She’s not in bed. Not anywhere in the room.
Panic surges through me as I jump out of bed, grab the first pair of pants I can find, and race downstairs.
Maybe she woke up hungry. Maybe she’s in the kitchen, fixing herself something to eat.
Or maybe she left you.
I try to shake the thought, but it keeps hammering at me. And when I reach the kitchen and find it empty, I can’t deny it anymore. She’s gone. I poured my heart out to her, and in the middle of the night, she just left.
Something raw tears through my chest when I catch the faint smell of smoke. I follow the scent, my thoughts spiraling to Anna setting the house ablaze with me still inside, making sure I could never steal her away again. However, as I trace the smell to the back patio, I find my wife standing alone, hugging herself beneath the stars, their light catching on her skin and blonde hair, making her seem almost unreal. She looks like she’s glowing. As if she were something the gods put on this earth to light my way to absolution.
She must hear me slide the glass door open and step outside, because she looks over her shoulder and smiles.
“You’re awake.” Unable to form words, I just nod.
My broken heart is still mending itself when the flicker of flames catches my eye. They’re coming from the built-in stone barbecue stretching across one side of the patio. I step closer to it and find ash and soot smearing the surface, while flames still chew through whatever is left of the photographs of my father and stepmother.
“I didn’t burn Carlo’s pictures, but I did take them down from the walls,” Anna explains, coming to stand beside me. “If I had it my way, his pictures would have been burning with his parents. But you love him, so I didn’t have the heart to do that to you. I stored them away in a drawer in an upstairs bedroom that I’m sure must have belonged to him. They are there whenever you want them.”
My throat constricts at her explanation. She burned all the pictures in this house because she couldn’t bear me being forced to see them lining the walls, mantels, and shelves of every room. She did this for me.
