Page 126 of Dominance

“Should we talk about…any of that?” Adriano finally blurts out after another uncomfortably long pause.

Why are we like this?

“No. I mean, we can. That’s what couples do, right?”

“Right. Like a normal couple. Which we are not.”

“Definitely not. But not in a bad way.”

“No! We’ve totally made this thing our own.”

“Why don’t we just share a detail about our lives? Um, I’ll go first. My mom moved us around a lot. Like thirty or forty cities in just a few years.”

“Wow. And I thought I was a jet-setting youth with my family.”

“Yeah. Speaking of your family, you said they were from around here originally?”

“They were. The Diamantes started in the old country, long before they immigrated to New York. There’s still a couple of estates that I think we technically own near here. Over the years the two halves developed in their own ways, the new and the old. Aless was actually born here in Florence. I was the first one born in the states. Eventually more of the center of operations migrated there.”

“So where do you consider home?”

“Both? Neither?”

“Do you have any relatives left alive here?”

“Yes. Just one. Maybe some cousins and a load offamilyaffiliates. But they’re more like business partners than relatives. An elderly relative lives in the North. Not for much longer, though.” He looks down into his cup, swirling the contents.

“They’re ill?” I hate leading him like this, but my instincts keep me from blurting out what I know.

“Yes. And just old.”

“That’s hard.”

“Everyone dies. I’ve seen plenty of death in my life. Not that it doesn’t affect you. But you become accustomed to the nature of things. Accept that you or the people you know might not be there tomorrow.”

“That’s terrible. Adriano. I-I don’t mean that insultingly?—”

“You’re right it is terrible. It’s a wonder that I still feel grief after all the things my brothers and I have seen.”

“Or maybe it makes you appreciate things more.”

“In some ways. In others, it makes you callous.” I see him struggle for a moment, then grimace, like he makes a decision. “Our parents died when we were children. I was ten. The twins were six. We were up late, waiting for Alessandro to come home, napping in the sunroom at the old compound.”

I still, watching him relive the memory.

“The little ones were asleep on my lap. But I always waited to make sure that he got home safe. I had to see him to know that he was okay. That night especially. I wasn’t supposed to know that he was out on his first hit, to become a ‘made’ man.

“Anyways, he walked in. We carried the twins inside. Something felt off. The elders were in the kitchen around the table. I can’t remember what Uncle Giancarlo said to Aless. But I saw him break down. I knew.”

“Adri,” I whisper, covering my mouth.

“He raised us, my brother. I helped as I got older. Dom too. He was always around. Always watching over us, even if he wasn’t always kind.”

“Was he always like that?”

“No. I remember when I was really little. He was damn near jolly. More like Ciro, a cutup. Butthe lifetends to rot that out of most people.”

I hold my tongue, unsure of how to bring up what I know. Instead, I ask, “Why was my father passed over?”

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