Page 23 of A Son Hidden from the Sicilian

Gio shook his head furiously and tightened his grip on Brianna. She sighed. “I need to put you down so I can get your clothes. Do you want to pick out your pajamas?”

This time he nodded. Brianna put him on the ground and he clutched her hand, sending those suspicious looks back at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo had been determined not to let it hurt. The child hadn’t known of a father’s existence all this time, and couldn’t be expected to accept Lorenzo in a single day. Lorenzo understood that these were vulnerable years for children. Best that the boy be suspicious and careful. Much better than the alternative.

But Lorenzo already loved his son with a depth that threatened to split him open and no matter how rational it was for the boy to not trust him, it continued to shove a little shiv of pain under his heart.

Love was the enemy, yes, but he would always protect his own. Never let love leave him weak and vulnerable again. When he took care, protected, it was okay. He did not allow anyone else to risk, to sacrifice. That was his job, and it always would be.

It was why Brianna and Gio were here. It was why he would send a security detail with Brianna to the art show. He would build a life for them here where they were all safe and taken care of. Part of a careful compartment of his life that did not...complicate things.

Gio picked out his pajamas and Lorenzo led Brianna to the bathroom well equipped for a child’s bath. He gathered the necessities, including the little bath toy set his niece used. He ran the water, tested the temperature. When he turned to Brianna she was watching him with open-mouthed shock.

“How...do you know how to do all this?”

He didn’t want to tell her. Not because it was some great secret, but because...he was very careful. Not to expose pieces of himself that she might use against him. Twist to make him something he couldn’t be.

But perhaps if she understood, she would trust him alone with Gio sooner rather than later.

“I have brothers and sisters, and I am the oldest and had to help take care of them quite a bit.”

“How many?”

A tricky question he also didn’t want to answer. She could find the information out there on the internet, no doubt. Though not all of it. The depth of the horrible story that was Rocca. Only that he had once been the oldest of ten, and now he was the oldest of nine.

But he could never bring himself to lie, to pretend like Rocca did not exist. It felt too wrong. “There are eight now.”

“Whynow?” Brianna asked, carefully undressing the wriggling Gio who was clearly eager to play with the bath toys in the large bath.

My twin sister died because love is poison.

But he wasn’t going to saythat.

“Unfortunately, Rocca passed away a few years ago.”

“Oh, Lorenzo.” Brianna looked up at him, that easy warmth that radiated from her making the empathy seem less like the dreadedpity, and more like something akin to comfort. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what it’s like to have siblings, but that must have been terrible. What happened?”

“It is of no matter. She is gone.” A waste of a life all because their father was a spineless coward, and their mother was lost to love. Broken, so broken, and he had learned you could not put broken things back together.

Brianna did not press. She picked up Gio and placed him in the bath. She knelt next to it as she soothed his whining resistance at getting his hair shampooed.

When Lorenzo knelt next to her, she sent him a speculative look but offered no recriminations. She just handed him the washcloth so that he could help.

They washed the boy, let him play. It was very domestic and reminded him of days long gone. Those quiet moments with his brothers and sisters when he’d thought he and Rocca could protect them from everything. That they were better than their parents.

And then Rocca...

He would not go back to that place. Those feelings. He was in the present now. Money at his disposal. The remainder of his siblings safe and sound, with all they could ever want at their fingertips.

And he was kneeling here at the bath, hip to hip with Brianna. She was sunlight and warmth, andthatwas more dangerous than memories. She would be his end if he gave in to this feeling that was once again roiling about his chest, just as it had two years ago. As if he’d learned nothing.

Gio’s hand slapping against the water sending a spray of water up and out of the tub was a welcome distraction from said feeling, and Lorenzo laughed at the boy’s exuberance while Brianna gently scolded him.

But, sensing an ally, Gio splashed again, looking at Lorenzo for another laugh. Lorenzo gave it, because he would give anything to have his son look at him without suspicion.

Gio splashed with wild abandon now. And Brianna, droplets of water cascading down her hair and her face, glared at him. “If you’re such an expert on children, you should know better than to laugh at such behavior.”

“Ah, but my son should have all the fun he wants.”

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