Page 127 of Marry Me Not
He picked up his cappuccino. “She eventually fell in love again. A man named Emilio Quaranta. A potter here in town. He died when a fire broke out in his workshop. A freak accident. In her grief, the need for revenge stopped being a distant thing. It became the organizing principle of her life. She was no longer content to build here. She wanted New York. She wanted what she believed had been taken from her. It took another nineteen years to accumulate the kind of wealth and influence that made that a realistic ambition.”
He set down the empty cup.
“When I was younger, I believed in her vision. I grew up on the story, and I grew up angry. But Gino Ferraro is dead. Now I find myself looking at a feud that has already cost both our families more than it has given either of us, and if your mother takes power, it will cost considerably more.” He spread his hands. “My hope is that you are more reasonable than she is. We can find a way to end this. Together.”
The flowers above us shifted in the breeze.
I looked at this man—my half brother—and tried to find solid ground after he’d just rearranged everything I thought I knew about my family.
“You want to make a deal,” I said.
There was a satisfied glint in his eyes. “I want to make a deal.”
CHAPTER 44
FABIANA
Dominic Santoro was an exceptionallycharming man. He’d put me at ease within minutes of us meeting. When he’d first walked into the ceramics workshop, I’d been ready to bolt, but then he’d smiled at me—warmly, almost ruefully—and said he’d been dying to meet me. He’d taken my hand and pressed a kiss to it.
When he told me he was Cosimo’s half brother—and that he wanted my help convincing Cosimo to hear him out—I didn’t just take him at his word. That would’ve been reckless and naive, and Iwastrying to grow out of that.
No, something else had kept me from running for the hills. Something I’d noticed just a few days ago while flipping through Gino’s journal. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it, but once I came face-to-face with Dominic…
I’d pulled out my phone right then and there and opened the album where I’d been saving photos of Gino’s journal. I wanted to digitize the whole thing eventually, just in case anything ever happened to the original. I’d found the drawing of the villa withthe three boys in the yard and zoomed in on the fourth boy sitting up in the tree.
He wore a black sweater.
And on it, drawn in a dark gray so faint it was easy to miss, was the letterD.
Gino had sketched his fourth son into the picture.
Dominic had seemed genuinely stunned when I showed it to him. For a second, something unguarded had flashed across his face—longing maybe—before he’d covered it with that easy smile of his.
Will you help me, then?he’d asked.
I’d thought of him standing over Gino’s grave. His father. The man he’d never gotten the chance to know or even meet.
Dominic had seemed genuine to me. If Cosimo had been there, he would’ve disagreed. Maybe he would’ve seen a trap where I saw sincerity. But I’d trusted myself enough to make the decision.
And now here we were, flying back to New York together on Cosimo’s jet.
My husband sat beside me, his hand wrapped around mine. He hadn’t let go of me since we’d left Dominic’s villa, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he needed to reassure himself I was still here, or because he needed something to ground him while he processed everything Dominic had revealed.
I’d already known Vita Ferraro was a monster. But now I understood exactly why she could never be allowed to rule the Ferraros. She wasn’t a leader. She was selfish, cruel, andincapable of seeing beyond her own interests. If she were allowed to sit at the helm, she would drive the family to ruin.
Across from us, Dominic was already halfway through a plate of blinis and black caviar, champagne in hand, his legs crossed as he watched Italy disappear beneath the clouds.
Cosimo and Dominic had agreed the best way to work through the details of the deal was for Dominic to come back to New York with us, where he could speak to Alessio and Romolo in person. They had to be a part of this too, and Cosimo wanted to tell them about their half brother face-to-face.
I wouldn’t have called the vibe between the two men friendly, but it was relaxed enough that I wasn’t worried they’d kill each other before the plane touched down.
“A Christmas with my brothers,” Dominic mused aloud. The holiday was only a few days away. “I have to say, this is shaping up to be the most unexpected end to my year.”
Cosimo watched him with open skepticism. “What was your plan if you hadn’t run into Fabiana?”
“We didn’t run into each other by accident.” Dominic took a sip of champagne. “The moment you started asking around about a collector of Emilio’s pieces, word reached me. I flew down immediately. I knew my best chance at a conversation that didn’t end with one of us dead was while you were here with only your wife.” Another sip. “I was still deciding how to approach you when the receptionist at your hotel called to say she’d seen Fabiana leave alone. It’s a small town. It wasn’t difficult to find out where she’d gone.”
Cosimo pursed his lips and stared at him the way a man might stare at something he hadn’t yet decided whether to tolerate or kill.
