Page 11 of Bruno
With a wave, most of the men disappear into the trees. “I know, but my men are on edge,” Bruno admits, addressing me and Chris. “The threat from Verrazano is serious. If it weren’t—”
“—You wouldn’t be here,” Chris slices in sharply. His voice dripping with unfamiliar hate and hurt.
“So we can’t leave the house?” I ask Bruno.
“Not alone. I’ll give you both the security code so you can open doors or windows without attracting attention again. But remember, it’s our safety code, and you can’t share it with anyone, no matter how close you feel to them.”
Bruno stares into Chris’s eyes as he speaks, and Chris responds stiffly, “I understand. I won’t tell anyone. Besides, there’s no one out here to talk to, anyway. No Wi-Fi or phone signal.”
“I’ll give you the Wi-Fi password along with the security code.” Bruno turns my way. I’ll join you for a walk if you’d like.
“I kind of wanted to be alone.”
“I’m sorry, but that can’t happen right now. However, I’ll stay silent if that’s what you need.”
I glance where the other men vanished, but there’s no trace. That means they were doing their job well. The two men standing nearby, trying to blend into the background, are intimidating figures with tattoos covering their necks and hands, not to mention their visible guns and holsters.
“Fine,” I grumble. “But I won’t stay out long. I just wanted to walk around.”
“I’m coming too,” Chris insists challengingly as if expecting us to object. We were both surprised by his request, but we agree.
I look at Bruno, who shrugs and cautiously nods. Chris adds, “I want to make sure my mom stays safe because I still don’t trust you.”
Bruno’s eyebrows furrow, and his expression darkens, but he simply replies, “Understood.”
Silently, we walk through the wooded area around Bruno’s house. The city boy I once knew would never have bought this land.
When we pause, I ask, “Tell me about this place.” I sit down on a log and clean some mud from my sneakers. Chris looks up and tilts his head away, pretending not to listen.
“I found this place when my mom was sick.” He glances at Chris and continues after receiving a quick nod—an acknowledgment expressed through a gesture rather than words. “My father sent me here on an errand when I was nineteen, attending college before I met you, Attia. Like most college students, I had a summer job. However, mine involved picking up packages delivered by boat from New York. Marco and I had to intercept, protect, and deliver them to Chicago. The island didn’t have buildings, so we camped out. It should have been an exciting adventure, but we were too annoyed about being low-level workers to appreciate it. Why was the Don’s son doing a delivery job?”
“Why were you?” Chris asks.
“Everyone starts at the bottom,” Bruno replies, meeting our son’s gaze. Whatever unspoken communication passes between them makes me want to cry because I can’t read it. It’s a simple guy thing—a connection. It just exists.
“I wouldn’t want to do what you do anyway,” Chris sneers with disdain.
Bruno responds with a wry half-smile. “I said the same thing. My mother agreed. She never wanted me in this business. She insisted on us going to college.”
Chris’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing with anger. “Wait, there are more of us? I have family, and no one—”
“—No one knew,” Bruno admits.
“I was your dirty little secret,” Chris says bitterly.
I quickly intervene when I see the tension escalating in the wrong direction. “Chris, that’s not true.”
Bruno waves off my defense. “I won’t lie to you—”
“Yeah, right. My whole damn life is built on lies.”
“Chris,” I try again.
“It’s fine; I understand why he feels that way. But tell me this, Chris: Did you really want to live like this? Surrounded by bodyguards wherever you go? Isolated from your friends? There would be no sleepovers, playdates, or school picnics without armed guards watching your every move.”
“No, I wouldn’t want that,” Chris mutters.
.
