Page 32 of Unforgiving Queen
That got his attention. His eyes narrowed on me and, for the first time in my life, I saw the mobster. Not my father. Not a man. But a mobster who could kill someone.
“Where did you hear that?”
I gulped, my nails digging deeper into my skin. “I heard you and Mamma arguing one night. I didn’t understand the words, and then I forgot all about it. Until recently.” He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. I could see the truth on his face. “Which one of us is not yours?”
“I don’t know.” Shock zipped through me and I had to blink several times to clear it. There was no confusion though. I’d heard him right.
“Why don’t you know?” I asked.
Fathers should know, right?
“Grace refused to disclose it.” I felt like we were finally getting somewhere, so I held my breath and let him continue. “And when she died, I realized your mamma was right. I love you and your sister equally. You are both mine. I watched you come into this world, and learning whose DNA you shared seemed pointless.” He pushed his hand through his hair again, leaving it more disheveled. “Or maybe I couldn’t handle learning that truth. So I let it go. Either way, I wasn’t going to risk resentment toward either one of you. You’re both my daughters, and I’ll die with that.”
I understood his words, but then I didn’t. It made me appreciate him more knowing that he didn’t want to risk loving one of us less than the other, but burying your head in the sand seemed worse. It festered things inside you, building slowly but surely until it erupted.
“Do you know who—” I couldn’t utter the words, but he understood the meaning behind it.
Papà shook his head. “That I would kill to know,” he admitted. “I’d give anything to slice him to pieces for touching something that wasn’t his.”
“That’s dark,” I muttered. “And scary as shit.”
The silence fell, feeding both of our ghosts. It was clear that he had just as many if not more than me.
My hand trembled as I reached for my cup of coffee, so I opted to just smooth my palm over the tablecloth. I couldn’t risk spilling the liquid all over.
“The Japanese who attacked the villa in Italy…” I leaned back against the chair, bringing both my hands into my lap.
“The Yakuza,” he supplied helpfully.Jesus Christ.He was really deep into this gangster shit.
“Why did they attack?”
A dark expression filtered into Papà’s eyes. “You have a lot of questions today, Reina.”
“Considering I almost died because of some deal you made, I deserve the answers.” The mere idea should make me shake with fear. It didn’t. Maybe I was too numb to process it all at this point. “And if you want me to agree to any kind of marriage arrangement, I want to go in with eyes wide open.”
He nodded somberly. “Fair enough.” He reached over, stroking my cheek affectionately. “You are so strong. Much stronger than your mamma was. Probably stronger than me too.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Somehow I doubt it.”
“You are, Reina. When you were born, your mamma said you’d be a queen one day. It’s the only Italian thing she loved… your name.”
The backs of my eyes burned. “She probably liked Italian fashion too.”
He shook his head, smiling softly. “She even refused to wear that.”
I reached for his hand that still lingered on my cheek and took it between both of mine. “Tell me about that summer. Please, Papà.”
A resigned sigh left him. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. Aside from doing some business with the Yakuza. I even had a—” He paused for a moment before he continued, “I had a mutually beneficial relationship with one of its members. But their demands got crazy and risked more lives. When I met your mother, I cut all ties with that person. That summer, they wanted to make me pay for loving your mother. For having you and Phoenix. For starting a family.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I blurted out, confusion written all over my face. “Why would they be upset about that?”
“Power and greed are important factors in any decision anyone makes in the underworld.” I frowned at that statement, not understanding fully. “It’s what drives people to kill, lie, and cheat. Remember that, Reina. It could be what keeps you and your sister alive one day.”
Does it apply to you?I rolled the question around on my tongue, but I didn’t want to anger him. I needed answers to understand what happened to Mamma, although so far all I was getting out of our conversation was more questions.
“Why did Mamma kill herself?” It was the first time any of us had brought up her suicide. Reflecting back to that night I saw Mamma bleed out in the tub, I couldn’t help but note the irony. She sliced her wrists to end her life. I was slicing myself in an attempt to release my anxiety and pain. Maybe she was looking for a way out too.
The world was left to believe she died in a tragic way. It was a half-truth. She found a way out and left us all to deal with the ghosts.
