Page 2 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

Romeo blew out a cloud of smoke and leaned in to say, “Everything matters, Giovanni. Every thought, possible action, or plan, truth or lie is right there for you to see. You just have to know where to look. A slight variation in someone’s pitch, shifty eyes, or…” His eyes dipped down. “Clenched fists.”

I hadn’t realized I was fisting my hands until that moment.

“So, I’ll ask you again, Little Brother, what did you find in that room?”

“Blood and death.” I spat back at him. “The same thing I found the last time I was in there.”

“It’s dangerous to go poking around in the past Gio.”

“Why? Afraid I’ll find out something you don’t want me to know?”

“Maybe I’m afraid you’ll find the truth.”

“And what is the truth, Romeo?” What did he know?

“You already know the truth, Little Brother. You just chose not to see it.”

What kind of cryptic ass answer was that? Then again, I expected nothing less from my brother.

“Whatever.” I sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t have time for whatever stupid fucking idea you’ve got floating around in your head, either.”

Choosing to ignore my brother, I moved to climb down the stairs, but Romeo stepped in front of me.

“Let it go, Little Brother. Aldo is off limits.”

My eyes met his. “Who said anything about Aldo?”

“You did, just now.”

Fuck.

He tipped his head. “You think I didn’t know?”

So, not only did he sit by while Atlas was beaten to death, but he knew about Aldo’s involvement in our mother’s murder. “Why didn’t you do something about it?”

“For the same reason you won’t do anything. I had no proof.”

“I have proof.” I heard him.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you have a picture of him standing over her body with a bloody knife?”

“No. but I remembered–”

“That’s not enough. Aldo is the boss's brother, Giovanni. You’re going to need more than a fuzzy twelve-year-old memory that may or may not be accurate.”

Not enough. My entire life could be summed up with those two words.

I wasn’t worthy enough for my father’s attention. I wasn’t old enough to be included with my brothers, and I wasn’t ready enough to join the family business. I wasn’t even important enough to be considered the backup heir. I existed in my father’s world as nothing more than the third son he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge.

I was more than capable, but he couldn’t see that. He couldn’t see me. My father looked past me every time. Meanwhile, people like Aldo and Romeo were freely given his respect. Well, I was done trying to prove myself to him.

Going chest to chest with my brother, I hissed, “I’m not afraid of our uncle.”

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