Page 71 of Sinner's Vows

When I come to the last entry, I give it a quick glance before I read it for Portia. “This is the last one in this journal.” In a way, her final words to the world.

Giuliano came to me tonight. We haven’t spoken in days. I’m bedridden and he hates that. I’m too weak to fight him, and when he came in peace, I had to listen. We spoke about all the things that happened. Quietly. For the first time in years. It’s as if he knows this is the end.

I refuse for Gabi to go to Italy, but she will. She must. Giuliano will honor that pact but promised me that he will reward my loyalty to him. He’ll make sure she’ll only go when she is older, and that when she goes, she’ll be as safe as possible.For as long as he can keep her safe, forcing Emilio’s hand, he will do so.

It’s the least he could do, given that both his and Emilio’s sons are in this house, born from my womb. They’ve had each other in this chokehold for years, stags who fought each other, antlers caught in a deadlock from which they can’t escape. The least they can do is to care for the little girl they forced me to have. A son for a son. A daughter for a daughter. One for one.

Until death us all part. And then she’ll have six brothers to find her.

Finally I can rest in peace.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, reading the last paragraphs again and again.

Portia is crossing herself, eyes closed, lips murmuring in prayer.

“What does this mean?” I ask, not sure I even want to know. Do the Scalera brothers even know?

“The fucking Mafioso,” Portia grits through her teeth. “Always putting revenge first. No wonder people can’t move on. Retaliations, blood, and murder! Vendettas that spread over several generations. I’m so sick of it.”

“Portia,” I say, reaching for her arm to calm her, but inwardly wanting to shake her in urgency. She’s working the gold cross hanging from a thin chain by her neck to smithereens, stalling. “What does this mean?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you want it means! Emilio Randazzo killed Giuliano Scalera’s first family. His first wife and his first-born son. The woman he apparently loved. In revenge, Giuliano killed Emilio’s wife. When they made that pact for peace, Emilio must have promised to give him back a son, but in turn, Giuliano will give him a girl. One to replace Bianca, his little girl Emiliooffered in marriage as truce. The originalpiccola ragazza,whom Giuliano agreed to marry and guarantee peace between the families.”

At those words, the final piece falls into place and my stomach twists. Bianca was Emilio Randazzo’sdaughter? The wedding photo?—

God help me, I’m going to be sick. This means he?—

“Emilio forced Bianca to marry Giuliano, so there would be a blood relation to keep the peace. As if we live in medieval times,” Portia says, wiping at her eyes. “But she was never anything to him. Least of all blood. He kidnapped her off the streets in Napoli as if nobody would notice. She was never his own child. Nothing but a street urchin, ready for the picking. Just like I was at sixteen. Only…she was so much younger.”

I sag into myself, fist to my stomach. Bianca was just another trafficked girl.The original.The prototype. And the last man who called me his little girl in that tone was Franco. All these men with their little girls and this sick ring that I was trying to crack and failed at.

Portia’s tears are flowing again now, and I close my eyes, trying to appear calm and not succumb to my own inner turmoil. I need to digest everything I’ve learned. And then I feel them, dripping down to my hand where I’m still clutching the journal tight, my tears now threatening to run the ink of this truth none of us are ready for.

‘Both his and Emilio’s sons are in this house, born from my womb.’

I have half-brothers here amongst the Scaleras.

Franco wasn’t lying.

38

DOMINIC

When I walk into the Don’s house in the late afternoon, Bruno isn’t lying in wait for me as usual. With a pang of disappointment, I follow the security guard’s hint that the women are in the kitchen with my dog.

My dog.

What the actual fuck. When did I make this mind shift?

With a shrug, I make my way to the kitchen where Ariana immediately looks up as I come through the door. She’s pale, and although she musters a smile, it’s clear she’s drained.

Portia is at the kitchen island, grating cheese. Bruno is pert and alert at her feet, gazing blindly up at her to where his nose leads him. Pancetta. A whole pile of it cubed. I bet she gave him some…and not just a taste.

“Nicky,” Portia says in greeting as she drops a thick slice of Pecorino Romano cheese to the floor for Bruno.

The dog is on it like a starved beast.

“Portia…” I groan. “Bruno is only supposed to have raw bison. I’ve stacks of it in the freezer, and the guys know to feed him nothing else.”

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