“What was necessary to get you out of that world!”
The suggestion she made a month ago, to bring my famiglia to the United States to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and the fact that my in-laws were, very conveniently, on a cruise vacation and couldn't join us, set off all my alarms.
“I swear toDio, Valentina! If anything happens to my famiglia...” I shouted, shaking her like a rag doll.
The door burst open behind me at that moment.
“Camillo!Uomo di Dio!What are you doing?” It was my cousin.
“Lorenzo, give my Papà the keys to my car,” I ordered over my shoulder and removed the SUV keys from the inner pocket of my blazer, tossing them and watching him turn pale. “Tell him to get the famiglia out of the United States. Now!”
My cousin didn't question me. He disappeared in a fraction of a second, and I shook Valentina once more before shoving her to the floor.
“I'm doing this for us, Camillo. For you. For me. Forourfamiglia!” She yelled, tears streaming down her beautiful face. “They're not your famiglia.Iam.”
I crouched down in front of her for a few seconds, adrenaline coursing through every limb of my body.
“Those people down there have this blood running through their veins.” I tapped my wrist with two fingers. “They have my flesh and my name.”
“Vita Mia...” she begged, kneeling in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “They are criminals. Your father, your uncle... even your grandfather! They are all murderers. You have no idea how many innocent people they have killed...”
“My famiglia does not killinnocentpeople.” I emphasized the word innocent, ignoring how her hands continued to squeeze mine, trying to pull me toward her.
“Vita Mia... We can start over. You and I.” My breathing grew shorter with each new word she uttered. “Let them pay for their crimes...”
“I will never forgive you.” I spat, suppressing the urge to vomit, letting a handful of thick tears drip from my eyes. “Never...”
“You don't have to be amonsterlike them. I won't let you become one.”
With a sudden movement, I shook off her hands and stood up, giving her no further answer, drying my eyes on the sleeve of my blazer.Monster. If that's how she saw my famiglia, then I never knew what kind of woman lay beside me in bed.
We weren't monsters, we didn't kill innocents. We were ordinary people, with plans, dreams, passions, and goals. We may not abide by the laws of governments, but going against collective thinking doesn't make anyone evil; at most, it makes them dissidents. Still, we were as decent as anyone else.
I staggered backwards without taking my eyes off her, still kneeling on the floor with a pleading expression, and had to fight back more tears. This was the same woman I had fallen in love with ten years ago. The one I asked to marry me, that I waited for at the altar and sworn before God to take as my wife. She was the same woman I woke up loving that very morning. Yet, I didn't know her.
I never had.
I left the office, shutting the door and turning the key. She immediately threw herself against it, pounding on the wood withall her strength. Screaming, demanding I let her out. I ignored it and rushed for the stairs, realizing that something inside me had died. Something in my being laid shattered, and what remained filled my mouth with bile.
As if walking to the gallows, I descended the last step of the staircase to find my famiglia still in that damn living room. Tears betrayed me again and rolled down my cheeks. I looked at each face with shame and guilt, not quite sure how to put in words what needed to be said, but when I met my mother's apprehensive gaze, all I could do was clench my fists tightly and let my head fall forward.
“She betrayed me...” I confessed with a broken voice, unable to look at them, and sobs shook my chest. “She betrayed the famiglia.”
“My son. My precious boy.” Those were the words I heard my mother whimpered before her arms wrapped around my body.
I wanted to stay there, close to her heart, in her protective embrace, but I knew we didn't have time.
“Papà.” I called, looking over her shoulder at the man who glared at me, his face distraught. “You have to return to Italy. I'm afraid she's planned something... She knows which countries we operate in, what we deal in, and who our associates are.”
“Maledizione!” Nonno Patrizio yelled, not giving my father time to respond, and I watched in horror as he took the Glock from the holster on his belt and pointed it toward the top of the stairs. “I'm going to finish off thatputtana.”
Nonno had the right to do so, and I knew it was the only way to deal with a traitor. However, when that traitor is still the woman we love, one cannot follow the laws of reason. I stepped out of my Mamusia's protective arms and planted myself in front of my Nonno.
“Per favore, don't kill her...” I begged and slowly dropped in front of him, one knee at the time. "Kill me instead, Nonno. I was the one who made the mistake, I was the one who brought her into this famiglia despite all your warnings. Punish me, but don't kill her."
NonnoPatrizio watched me in silence, his black eyes bloodshot and wide with rage, his nostrils flared as if all the air in the world were not enough.
“I always knew you had a soft heart, Camillo, but I never expected you to become this pathetic man standing before me.” My eyes widened and I staggered, as my grandfather's stern words hit me. If he had fired the gun he was putting back in its holster, it would have hurt less. “Get up and don't embarrass this famiglia again.”