40

MILLIE
As we crossed the threshold into the apartment, an enchanting aroma enveloped us-the rich, tantalizing scent of roast lamb seasoned with rosemary. The fragrance hung in the air, a prelude to the unfolding evening.
Gio’s voice broke the spell, his words resonating with a mix of pride and anticipation. “I told Melanie to prepare a nice dinner.” Harper, her fiery red eyebrows arching in disbelief, exchanged a glance with me, caught off guard by the unexpected culinary gesture.
“Thank you,” I replied, appreciating the effort.
A nod from Gio signaled our next step. “Show your sister to her room, and then we can indulge in this feast.” His demeanor remained somewhat reserved and distant, a fact that didn’t escape my notice as I observed him heading towards the kitchen area.
Guiding Harper to her designated guest room, I began to close the door behind us, only for her to pull me inside before it could shut completely. Concern danced in her eyes as she implored, “Are you really alright?”
“Yes, as I mentioned on the phone. I’m fine,” I reassured her.
Her grip on my hand tightened, a silent plea for candor. “I prefer hearing it from you directly, face-to-face.”
My attempt to assuage her concerns continued. “Believe me, Harper, I’m not withholding anything.”
Yet, she persisted. Drawing me closer, she inquired with an intensity that cut through pretense, “Did he force you into anything… intimate?”
I met her gaze, earnestness in my eyes. “No, nothing of the sort has happened. I assure you.”
Her grip relaxed, but her worry lingered. “There’s something between you two, though. I need the full story.”
Gently extricating my hand, I steered the conversation toward a temporary pause. “We should join dinner now. Melanie’s efforts shouldn’t go to waste. We can discuss this tomorrow when Gio’s preoccupied.”
“Tomorrow,” Harper agreed with a firm nod.
Exiting the room, I led Harper towards the dining area, where a scene awaited her senses. Her scrutiny swept over the surroundings, narrowing as she beheld the two unexpected additions to our gathering: Sebastian, whose presence seemed calculated to provoke, and Gio. The two of them stood near the table, engaged in discussion until our arrival diverted their attention.
“Why is he here?” Harper’s voice carried a blend of skepticism and distaste.
Sebastian’s characteristic grin adorned his features as he approached, his actions guided by a subtle boldness. He took Harper’s hand, pressing a courteous kiss to her skin. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Harper.”
She swiftly withdrew her hand, the discomfort evident in her tone. “Don’t touch me.”
Harper’s provocations danced on the edge of a precipice, a reality not lost on any of us. Seated side by side, Gio and I shared a glance, the unspoken understanding between us resonating.
The arrival of Melanie, a figure of warm hospitality, dispelled the building tension as she presented a culinary masterpiece. Roast lamb, fragrant rosemary potatoes, and vibrant green beans adorned our plates, offering both sustenance and a momentary respite.
Silence accompanied our initial bites, a temporary ceasefire in our familial dynamic. However, Harper’s curiosity proved insurmountable. “Why did you earn that moniker-‘The Vice’?”
Laying my utensil down, I braced for a reaction from Gio, who surprised me by leaning back and crossing his arms, his demeanor one of readiness rather than resistance.
Harper pressed on, a tinge of exasperation in her voice. “Surely it’s not a deep secret, especially with a nickname like that.”
Sebastian, ever the provocateur, interjected with his signature smirk. “The Vice is quite fitting, if you ask me.”
Gio’s disagreement was palpable. “I despise it.”
An unspoken challenge passed between the brothers, a subtle power struggle playing out. “Tell them the tale, or I shall,” Sebastian declared.
My own curiosity piqued, I leaned forward, eager to finally hear the narrative that had eluded me. With a hint of reluctance giving way to resolution, Gio began to share his story. It was a tale of family dynamics, betrayal, and survival-a pivotal moment that etched the moniker ‘The Vice’ into his history.
At the age of seventeen, Gio recounted, his familial bonds were tested as an ambitious cousin sought to rise through the ranks of the mafia alongside him. Their aspirations collided in a confrontation that turned violent, a tense encounter that saw Gio’s resilience prevail as he recounted how he grappled with his cousin’s treacherous intent. The physicality of the struggle spoke to a larger conflict within the family, a microcosm of the dangerous world they navigated.
As Gio’s story wove its intricate threads, the dinner table became a nexus of histories and secrets, a space where bonds and divisions coexisted in an unspoken understanding. The evening continued, each bite laden with flavors and histories that stretched far beyond the culinary delights before us. And with the weight of Gio’s revelation settling in, our familial bonds, though tested, emerged stronger than before, reminding us of the intricate tapestry that bound us together in this world of shadows and intrigue.
“Why didn’t you pull the trigger on him?” Harper’s voice trembled with curiosity, her gaze fixed on Gio’s hardened expression.
A cold detachment settled over Gio’s features as he replied, his voice a steely murmur, “He was family. It used to be our unwavering tradition to lower our weapons when crossing the threshold of a kin’s home.” His words hung heavily in the air, carrying the weight of a history now shattered. “Not anymore,” he added with a bitter edge.
The enormity of the betrayal had ignited an inferno within Gio, a tempest of anger that manifested in a gruesome act. “Gio’s rage was so intense that he mercilessly crushed our cousin’s throat,” Sebastian recounted, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing mix of fascination and excitement. “The blood choked him, bones slicing through arteries, leaving a gruesome scene I couldn’t look away from. It was something out of a horror tale,” he mused, his demeanor oddly thrilled by the horrific image.
Sebastian’s morbid delight contrasted sharply with Gio’s clenched fists and downcast eyes, a glimpse into the torment that came from a betrayal by one’s own flesh and blood. The turmoil of emotions swirling within Gio was evident, a maelstrom of pain, anger, and betrayal.
A sense of unease settled over the table as the narration continued. “That’s why Gio remains vigilant, even in slumber,” Harper interjected, her voice a mix of understanding and apprehension. “He’s never unarmed, not even when sharing a bed with a woman,” she added, her words unveiling the layers of vulnerability lurking beneath Gio’s tough exterior.
Gio’s gaze bore into his brother with a mixture of annoyance and warning, a silent reproach for exposing his vulnerabilities. Yet, Sebastian remained undeterred, offering a nonchalant justification, “It’s not like Millie doesn’t know about his escapades with other women.”
However, the true source of Gio’s guardedness was more intricate than simple infidelity. His reluctance to trust was a product of a profound betrayal within his own bloodline.
As the conversation ebbed and flowed, a picture emerged of Gio’s world-a life lived on the edge, a past forever stained by the treachery of kin. Harper’s curiosity turned to a probing question, “Do you wear a gun now, even among family?”
“Gio always wears a gun,” Sebastian answered, leaning in conspiratorially. “Don’t take it personally. I can’t remember the last time I saw him without one since that incident. It’s become a part of who he is.”
But there was more to it than met the eye. The narrative unveiled a paradox, a situation where Gio’s weapons were absent during the nights he shared with Millie. It was a calculated risk, a reflection of the trust he placed in her, a rare oasis of vulnerability amidst the desert of suspicion.