Kira
Once inside the room and the door shut behind me, I hurry to rip the dress off. I don’t even care if I damage it. I can still feel him inside me, and it feels like some of his cum is dripping out.
I’m so ashamed of myself. I feel so dirty. Worst of all, I want to cry because it felt so damn good to have him inside of me again.
Once I’m out of the dress, I rush to the toilet, lean over it, and throw up. He used me like a rag doll, and a part of me remembered the passionate sex we had with each other in college, and I wanted more.
I climb into the shower and slide down to sit down as the water washes over me. I cry quietly, remembering how brokenhearted I was when my father sent me away. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye to anyone, my studies were down the toilet, and no one could ever know I was banished. I don’t know what he told them, but when I got back, I was told to say that I had gone on vacation to Italy and loved it so much I decided to stay.
I was also told I must never reveal who Raphael’s father is. But my father knew he couldn’t stop me from telling my son when he turns sixteen, and he’s old enough to make his own decisions.
I find the strength to stand in the shower and wash myself. I wash away the feeling of him groping me carelessly, I wash away all traces of him, but the reality is that this will probably happen again.
I saw a flicker in his eyes. He may think he is cold and cut off, but I know I saw something in him when I turned around, and he saw me naked.
I shiver and turn the water off. I dry off, change into a tank top and shorts, and climb into bed.
I am so exhausted I fall asleep almost immediately and don’t wake up until there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Miss Sorvino, it’s time for breakfast.”
“Coming,” I call sleepily, rubbing my eyes and sliding out of bed. I look into the cupboards with the dresses they’ve packed in there. I look out the window, see the clear skies, and pick out a summery dress to throw on over my underwear. I brush through my hair and leave the room with Jarred following me to the dining room.
Miguel is reading a paper, so I sit down, “Good morning, Miguel.” “Morning,” he says lazily.
“Are you busy today?”
He ruffles the newspaper and looks at me. “I’m always busy. Why?”
“It’s a beautiful day outside. I thought you might like to have a picnic with me,” I comment, spooning sugar into my cooked oats.
“I have work, and you’re not allowed in the garden because you try to escape.” He goes back to his paper, and I shake my head.
“I promised I wouldn’t, and I meant it. Please? It is such a beautiful day, and we can talk about things.” I pout at him until he glances at me and sighs. “Fine. Jarred, have the kitchen pack a picnic basket.”
Jarred leaves, and I try not to look too pleased with myself as I eat.
“We can have the picnic once I’m done in my office, around lunchtime,” he says offhandedly.
“That’s perfect,” I say. “I’ll watch television until then.”
He sets his paper down and starts to eat breakfast, we do so in silence, and I wait until he gets up and leaves before I go to the living room to watch a show. I worry about what I’m going to say and do, and I’m also concerned that he wants to have sex in the garden. We did some wild things in college, a lot of it instigated by me with the books I read.
I try to push the thoughts out of my head and almost completely forget the plan when Jarred appears at the door. “Don Rossi said to come to the garden. He’s waiting for you.”
I jump up, turn the television off, and follow Jarred out the door to the front garden. He leads me between some hedges, and my stomach leaps to my throat. The middle of the gardens, which I hadn’t glimpsed when I tried to escape, is precisely like the Dean’s private gardens on campus.
There is a table and chairs set out in the center with a picnic basket on top.
Miguel is sitting at the table, working on his phone.
I walk over and open the picnic basket so I can start unpacking it. There’s a little bit of everything: fruit, cheese, bread, dip. Miguel doesn’t say anything as I lay everything out.
I sit down and smile. “There we go, isn’t this lovely?”
Miguel looks at me disapprovingly and sets his phone down. He takes a little bit of everything and puts it on one of the plates I unpacked.
“Did you have a busy morning?”
“Can we cut the bullshit chit-chat, please?” he snaps. “You know I hate small talk.”
I swallow and shake my head. “It’s just that I haven’t seen you in thirteen years.”
“And who’s fault is that?” he sneers. “Never mind. Just stop talking about being busy and the weather. It’s fucking boring.”
“Have you arranged my exchange then?” I ask pointedly, “or is that still being negotiated.”
“It’s in the works,” he says. “So if you behave, you have nothing to fear.”
“I don’t fear you,” I lie. “I’ve never feared you.”
He looks smug, and there’s a moment that I want to slap it off his face, but I focus on eating instead.
“I didn’t expect you to be Don so soon,” I comment. “That’s a real honor. Is your dad okay?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my father,” he says shortly, so I slam my plate down almost hard enough to break it.
“I am trying here, Miguel.” I’m irritated now. “But we both have to try. Otherwise, it’s pointless.”
“It is pointless,” he says, standing.
I stand as well. “Why? Because you’re so perfect and I’m not? Because you’re a Rossi, and I’m a Sorvino. That mafia bullshit is just that, bullshit.”
“Watch yourself, Kira. You promised to behave,” he warns me, taking a step closer.
I look up at him, trying to regain control of my emotions. “I’m just trying to get to know you again, Miguel. To do that, I have to ask questions.”
“Why do you care so much?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I raise my voice. “Maybe I’m an idiot.”
We’re close now, and he pulls me against him and kisses me aggressively. For a moment, I lose myself in that kiss. I remember that passion and how we’d kiss like fireworks on the fourth of July.
As I think about it, I think about how cruel he has been to me, and I feel hot tears start streaming down my face. He must feel them, too, because, after a moment, he lets me go and looks down at me.
“You’re excused,” he says, turning away.
I hurry away from the garden, with Jarred closely behind, and I go upstairs to my room. I shut the door quietly and sink to the floor, letting the tears flow.
I am grieving for the boy I fell in love with. In so many ways, he’s still here. In so many ways, he’s still within that body. But a cruel man occupies so much space, and I don’t think I can get through to him. At the same time, I’m scared I will and won’t like what is left of that frat boy who bothered me day after day to get a date.
The garden.
It can be no coincidence that it looks just like the Dean’s gardens. That’s on purpose. What did he think? That I would just come back, and our families would allow us to be together. Surely he worked out that I was sent away by my father. I mean, it was obvious. Wasn’t it?
I hug my knees and sob harder, wishing I could turn back the time.
Miguel
As she hurries away, I feel a pang in my chest. A part of me, a distant part, wants to go after her, but I have business to attend to now that I’ve entertained her little picnic.
I have my driver take me to the family bar we own in Long Beach, and I walk in. One of my brother’s father-in-law needs some help, so my brother asked me to meet with him.
I sit in my office and don’t have to wait long until he arrives.
“Don Rossi,” he greets me, shaking my hand.
I nod. “Mr. Silva, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My brother says that you are having some problems. Tell me about them.”
“Oh, Don Rossi,” he all but wails, “I have had the most unfortunate luck, and I don’t know where to turn. I own three grocery stores, and two are doing very well, but there’s one in Brooklyn, it’s in Sorvino territory, and we have to pay them protection, you see. Well, a gang has started harassing my store managers and cashiers to pay them protection instead of the Sorvino men. Don Alessandro does not have my loyalty. Please be assured, Don Rossi, but we need proper protection.”
“I cannot step onto Sorvino territory without sparking a war, Mr.
Silva. You should know that.”
“I know. I know.” The old man wrings his hat in his hands. “I want to move the store out of Sorvino territory and to Rossi territory, like my other stores. That way, I am assured good protection by the best family.” He swallows hard.
“And how can I help you to do this?” I ask, although I already know the answer.
“Moving to a new location is very costly, and with that store being robbed constantly and always harassed, I don’t have the money to move it right now. If you could please loan me the money, I would happily pay you back…with interest, of course, over a period of time.”
I tap my fingers on the table and watch him. “How much?”
“I’m short a hundred thousand,” he says wearily. “I can make payments of five thousand each month.”
I nod my head. “You are right to approach the Rossi family. You are one of us, and we take care of our own. I will arrange this money for you, Mr. Silva, but the monthly repayment is seven thousand dollars. Five of which count toward your actual debt. Do you accept my terms?”
He looks worried but nods eagerly. “Yes, I do, sir, thank you.”
“Lyle will take down your details, and we’ll wire the money to your bank account. Don’t worry, Mr. Silva, you will be very well protected under my family.”
I offer him my hand, and he kisses my ring, an archaic power play.
“Thank you, Don Rossi. I appreciate your kindness so much.”
I nod, and he gets up. Lyle guides him out of the room and leaves to get his details. It’s not a lot of money in the scheme of things, but they’re married into my family and will pay me back with interest when they want to use family funds.
I have a few other sites to inspect on my way home. By the time I’ve reached the estate again, the sun has already set. I let Jeffrey take my suit jacket as usual, and I look at Lyle. “Go tell her it’s time for dinner.”
I go to the dining room and sit down at my place. A plate of steak and vegetables is placed in front of me with a side of gravy and mashed potatoes. Kira comes in and sits down, mumbling a hello.
I ignore her and start to eat. Once I’ve taken the first bite, she picks up her utensils and starts to eat as well. We sit there in absolute silence, save for the clicking of cutlery on plates.
Out of the blue, she looks up at me and asks, “Why are you being so cruel to me? I haven’t done anything horrible to you.”
I slam my cutlery down, unable to contain my anger. “You haven’t done anything horrible to me, Kira?”
“You act like I have, then tell me what I did?” she raises her own voice.
I push my chair back and stand, screaming at her, “You fucking left me, Kira. Without a word or a note or anything. You just fucking left, and I spent months trying to find you to get you back, but no one even knew you’d left New York. I risked people’s lives to try to find you, but you couldn’t give one fuck about us or me and let me know where the hell you had gone to.”
She pushes her chair back so fast that it topples over and screams at me with full force, “Because I fucking couldn’t, Miguel. My father forced me to go back to Italy because he found out about us. He was so ashamed of me that he didn’t even want my cousins to know what I had done-sleeping with a Rossi. It was against my wishes, and I had no way of contacting anyone because I was under lock and key. You had freedom! I was alone, scared, and pregnant…” she cuts herself off, promptly turning around and storming off.
I’m caught off guard, both by the revelation and the announcement. I rush after her and catch her at the stairs grabbing her wrist as she starts to run up them.
“You were pregnant? Was it mine?” She glares at me.
“Kira, was it my child?” I shout at her, taking a step up but holding onto her really tightly. “Kira, you tell me now, was it, my child? Did you abort? Are they alive?” I feel like I’m losing my mind. “Where is my child,
Kira!”
“It was a boy,” she shrieks, trying to pull out of my vice grip. I stare at her as she continues, “I had your son all alone in Italy, and I’ve been raising him since then. Is that what you want to know? Congratulations, Don Rossi, you have an heir to the throne of your family. But I’ll be dead and fucking buried if you ever get to see him. You don’t know him. You don’t know how to raise a child. I’ve spent twelve years teaching, nurturing, and instilling goodness in him. He will not be a monster like you.”
I step back, letting go of her wrist. I’m in shock. I know I am. I need to respond, but I leave her to scramble up the stairs and to her room. I wait to hear the door slam, and once I do, I turn and sit on the stairs.
Lyle emerges from the shadows he was standing in. “Miguel?”
He only does that in intimate moments, and I look up at him. “Did you hear that?”
“So, it is true. You were with the Sorvino girl when you were in college. There were rumors, but none of us believed them.” He doesn’t look disappointed. He looks as though he pities me. I frown. “Remember your place, cousin.”
“You have a son,” he says quietly. “You should tell your father before he hears it from one of the workers.” “Or you?” I ask, standing up again.
“He won’t hear it from me,” Lyle says. “I know my place.”
I come down the two steps separating us and nod. “Good. Loyalty is rewarded. Please have the maids clean up the dining room. Give them something extra today for all the mess.”
Lyle nods and walks off. I stand at the bottom of the stairs. I am Don Rossi, I am a man of action and am not someone to be questioned, but right now, I’m questioning everything.
I have a son.
Of all the things I thought she’d done when she was away, that one had never crossed my mind. It makes sense that her father forced her out, but I had spies everywhere. I tried everything to see if she had been made to leave, but there was just no trace of her.
I look upstairs and slowly walk up them and to her room. I can hear her sobbing through the door.