Page 57 of Promised to the Don of Naples
Matteo swallowed hard and looked at me, begging for help with his eyes.
I didn't give it.
I stayed where I was, because something inside me—the convent Valentina, the Valentina of my father's office, the arbor Valentina—knew that if I interceded now, I'd ruin everything.
Matteo nodded.
"Capisco."
"First question. When you found out, in 2015, that your father was stealing from my family. Did you come to my father before you went to yours?"
Silence.
"Matteo."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I thought I could handle it in-house."
"You thought wrong."
"I know."
"Look at me when you answer."
Matteo raised his eyes; he looked frightened.
"I thought wrong, Luca."
"Second question." Luca took half a step closer. "Did you know your father was going to promise me your sister?"
"I found out in January."
"January of this year?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't warn me."
"Luca…"
"You didn't warn me."
"I was a prisoner, Luca! I had no phone, I had no way to…"
"You had Bianca."
The room stopped.
I saw the blood drain from my brother's face for the second time that morning. I saw him look at me, the apology in his eyes before he even formed a word.
"Cazzo, Luca, I can explain…"
"You had Bianca in Capri two weeks ago," Luca said plainly. "You could have sent any message through her. To me. To Raffaele. To Acquaviva. You could have said one word and I'd have gone there myself to get you out of this house before Valentina ever set foot in mine."
"I didn't know what you'd done in those years, Luca. I didn't know if you'd accepted my father's story. I didn't know if you were still my fratello or if you'd become the Don who killed to order."
