Page 150 of The One
He was quiet, intense, always observing from the sidelines.
His father used to brag about his hacking skills, and the few times I visited their home, Luca’s head was buried in code.
At the time, I thought his talent was harmless, perhaps even admirable. Tiero and I saw a promising future for him within our organization. Never once did we imagine he’d use his skills against us.
Mari shifts beside me, drawing me out of my thoughts. “You don’t believe Luca knew, do you?” she asks hesitantly.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. “Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. But it’s hard to separate him from his father’s betrayal.”
Her hand tightens on mine, grounding me. “Teo, Luca isn’t his father. He was just a boy who loved my sister. Whatever sins Luigi committed, they weren’t Luca’s.”
I turn to her, meeting her earnest gaze. Slowly, the heat of my anger cools, replaced by a dull ache. We have no concrete proof of Luca’s involvement beyond him covering their tracks. And condemning him won’t change the past.
“You’re right,” I admit quietly, surprising even myself. “Maybe Luca didn’t know. And if he truly loved Isa…” I trail off, shaking my head.
Mari’s shoulders relax, and a tentative smile softens her expression. “He did. He loved her with everything he had. And she loved him just as much. But what happened, it tore them apart.”
Silence falls between us, heavy but not hostile. After a long pause, I let out a weary sigh.
“For your sister’s sake, I hope Luca was as loyal tola famigliaas you say. But, Mari,” I hold her gaze, my voice firm, “if he ever contacts Isabella, I need you to tell me.”
“He hasn’t in five years,” she replies. “The night the Carusos left Sicily was the last time Isa spoke to him.”
After a moment, she adds, “He might not even be alive anymore.”
“Why do you say that?”
Mari looks out of the window again, her fingers tapping unconsciously on my leg.
“Mari?”
“It’s just…”
“Yeah?”
“When Luca said goodbye, he promised Isa he’d come back for her. Teo, he loved her so much. He wouldn’t break that promise unless…” Her words falter, and I finish for her.
“Unless he was dead?”
She nods. “Yes. That’s what Isa believes.”
“We didn’t kill them,” I say firmly. “And if Molinaro did, he would’ve made sure we found out. He’d probably have sent the bodies back to rub salt in the wound. If Luca was as loyal as you say, he would’ve understood the gravity of his father’s betrayal. For your sister’s safety, he would’ve stayed away. Any connection to him after his family fled wouldn’t have ended well for Isa or your family. He would’ve known that.”
Mari nods but doesn’t respond immediately. After a while, she murmurs, “Isa was heartbroken for a long time. She clung to his promise, hoping against all odds he’d find a way back to her. We both knew it was wishful thinking, but she couldn’t let go.”
“Is that why your father arranged your marriage first, not hers? To give her time to heal?”
Mari laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Father doesn’t care about our feelings. Isa and I were as surprised as everyone else inla famigliawhen he announced I’d marry first. He never explained why. We could only guess he had someone specific in mind for Isa and was still negotiating the match.”
“Sounds like him,” I mutter, my tone grim.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Mateo
We stop at a bustling local food market to stock up on provisions for the next few days. The vibrant energy of the market is a much-needed antidote to the heavy mood left by our earlier conversation about Isa, the Caruso betrayal, andpapà’s death.
Strolling hand in hand through the lively streets, we blend in with the crowd like ordinary people. Vendors call out, offering samples of their fresh produce, cheeses, and cured meats. We feed each other bites of whatever catches our eye—juicy figs, creamy ricotta on crusty bread, and slivers of aged pecorino.
