Page 19 of Alessia
I look at Alessia, my face cold.
“Talk. Now.”
“I know you came here for answers, and you will get them, but I need wine for this conversation. So, if you don’t mind.”
I walk after her to the kitchen where she pours us both a glass of red wine. Alessia takes a sip and lets out a sigh. I just stare at my glass and back at her.
“You want to know the truth? You want to know about me and my life?”
“Yes.”
“Even if that means you won’t ever be truly safe again?”
I hesitate but answer, “Yes.”
“Okay, then let’s have a seat.”
I walk over to one of the chairs by the couch and choose to sit in one of those instead of the couch. I don’t want to be too close to her. This is not a date. Alessia takes a seat on the floor, knees pulled up and the glass of wine swirling in her hand on her lap.
“Okay as you know I lived in Italy with my father and mother. My mother became sick when I was only two years old and died when I was almost three. My father was heartbroken, his beautiful Maria was taken away from him too early. He became a shell of the man he once was. As the head of the family, he had a duty to carry on the legacy of the DiSanti family and pass this onto his children. Me especially, in this case. To have a better chance of building our legacy my father decided to make more frequent trips to Los Angeles. Here he could expand his empire and make allies with other families to do so.”
“What empire?” I interrupt.
“Holdon, I’ll get to that. This is hard enough for me so please don’t interrupt me.”
“When I was five my father met my stepmother and a year later, they got married. My stepmother was the definition of an evil stepmother. She hated me, she hated that my father taught me everything about the business. Especially after Lorenzo was born. In her eyes, he was the eldest son and therefore the rightful heir to my father’s legacy. She started abusing me, at first verbally and when I was older, she started with physical abuse. She would lock me up in my room when my father was out of town, and I wouldn’t get food for days. My father wasn’t home often so he had no idea what was going on at home. When I reached the age of twelve my stepmother thought I was suitable enough to entertain her male friends, because I was ‘my father’s heir’ after all. When I was barely eighteen, I became pregnant thanks to one of her little parties.”
Emotion pricks my eyes as I see Alessia’s tears are quietly gliding down her cheeks. The hurt is written all over her face, even sixteen years later.
“Go on…” I croak.
“At ten weeks pregnant I got an abortion in secret. Nobody knew back then. Nobody but my grandparents, they helped me through it all. I started resenting my father because he didn’t see what his wife did to me and when I wanted to talk to him, he never had the time. Business always came first.
“And the guy who made you pregnant? Where is he now?”
“I don’t know… I’ve been searching for him since I was eighteen, but I never found him. I know he’s still alive though, that much I do know. Every year he sends me a gift, as a sick and twisted reminder of that day sixteen years ago. Now with my father’s death he has free range to try to get close to me again.”
“Is that who died yesterday? Did your father die?”
“Yes, which makes my life even more complicated. Come on, I need to show you something.” Alessia stands and holds out her hand to me. I don’t take her hand, but I stand and follow her through the hallway. Artwork lines the walls and she guides me to a door at the right end of the hallway. Out of her pocket she takes a key and opens the door.
“Are you taking me to your dungeon?”
Alessia chuckles. “Yeah, something like that.”
The door opens and soft lighting fills the room. This room is painted all black. Monitors hang on one wall and on the wall to the left a giant painting of a naked woman holding a gun hangs on the wall. In the center of the room stands a big glass desk and a few chairs.
“Welcome to my office.”
“So, it’s safe to say you’re not a nurse then?”
“I am, but it’s something I do because I want to, for experience and to get out of this house every once in a while.”
I walk around the room and take a seat in the chair by the desk, probably her chair. She takes a seat across from me.
“My father started the DiSanti business. It started small, with trading goods and shipping them overseas. My father recruited a lot of Italian men and when his following was big enough, he ventured outside of Italy to Los Angeles. Even though I had a lot of issues with the old bastard I knew that it all would be mine one day. That day is now.”
“But you still haven’t told me what you do.” My impatience is growing.
