Page 155 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s love Giovanni.”

Love? That was almost laughable. His entire business was built on fear. There was a reason why everyone did what he said.

“Sure, fear has its place. My men are loyal because if they weren’t they wouldn’t live to see another day. They don’t have a choice. You mother did. She chose to sacrifice herself to keep you safe.”

How dare he talk about her. “They came here looking for you.”

“No Giovanni, they came here looking for you and Romeo.”

That didn’t make sense. I was six, and Romeo wasn’t home. But come to think of it he was supposed to be home. He had an appointment that day that got cancelled. I remember hearing my mother rescheduling it. She was annoyed because it took months to get him in.

“No.” I shook my head. “That doesn’t add up. If they wanted to take out your heirs then they would’ve come when we were all here.”

Atlas was with our father in New Orleans. Romeo only went to join them after the cancelation. They wouldn’t have come when it was just two of us.

“Love also makes people blind, and that is why I can’t help you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

My father stood up and sighed. “You idolized the wrong brother, Giovanni.”

“Maybe you killed the wrong one?”

He gave me a small smile, squeezed my shoulder, and said, “Come and see me when you’re ready.”

* * *

One conversationwith my father and what started as a good morning was now bullshit. I should be focusing on the problems that would come with my uncle’s visit – mainly the unruly behaviour of my so called fiancé. Instead I kept thinking about what my father said all the way to school.

‘You idolized the wrong brother.’

My first instinct was to be pissed off. But every time the familiar burn of rage started to boil through my veins, my mind went back to that day. Twelve years later and I still couldn’t escape the screams I heard while hiding in the dark cupboard.

I felt every single one of them. My mother’s horror cut through my soul, and I used to blame him. He was her husband. He should’ve protected her.

My mother was a kind and loving woman. Not someone who should’ve been involved in his world. And yet there she was, laying her life down because of me. They were there for me and Romeo. Not Atlas, but us. Why not him?

I loved my brother and I didn’t want to doubt him. Everyone else did that. But the more I thought back to the things I heard that day, I couldn’t help but wonder if they were all right. Was Atlas the man I thought he was? Was she gone because of him? Did my brother try and have me killed?

No. Atlas loved me. He was the only one who cared. Wasn’t he?

Thumping beats of music cut through my thoughts, drawing my attention to the silver Beemer pulling into the spot beside me. When Atlee and his sister stepped out, I couldn’t help but cock a brow.

“Why are you driving Kendall’s car?”

He never drove his Corvette to school, it might get damaged, that was why he had the truck. Not that Atlee was a car guy. He couldn’t even change a tire. But he sure pretended like he was. If you asked me, the only reason he had the Vet was to pick up chicks.

“Someone, spilt coffee in mine.” His whiskey eyes shifted over to his sister, indicating who the someone in his scenario was.

Kendall rolled her back at him. “It was a vanilla chi latte.”

“Who the fuck cares? That shit still went everywhere.”

“I’m sure it’s not the first mess your upholstery has seen.”

She had a point there. I’d hate to see what would show up if someone shone a blacklight on the backseat of any of his vehicles.

“That’s not the point.” Atlee lifted his finger to point at his sister. “I just had it detailed.”

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