His jaw locked in place. I turned my back to him, needing a moment without his intense gaze. Dropping the towel, I grabbed a nightgown from a drawer. Alessio’s footsteps echoed behind me.
“No. Don’t touch me. Not now. I need answers. If you refuse to tell me the truth, then I can’t have sex with you.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. Alessio began to unbutton his shirt, so calmly and precisely that for a moment I too wanted to roar and rage. I was glad when he approached the door.
“I will take Daniele to bed.”
I sank down on the bed. I had promised Alessio that I would not move to another room, but at that moment I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep that promise. I wasn’t sure I could stay, not as long as he left me in the dark about what had happened. I didn’t want to be afraid of my husband, but at that moment I was. Daniel’s cries resounded, and I got up and rushed to his room. Alessio tried to change his pajama pants, but Daniele pushed him away. Finally, Alessio let him go, and Daniele rushed toward me, hugging my legs.
Alessio looked like a wounded animal as he straightened up.
“Can you…?” His voice was rough, his jaw clenched. I nodded and lifted Daniel into my arms. Alessio looked at me with pained eyes as I dressed Daniele in pajamas and then put him to bed. Alessio placed a brief kiss on Daniele’s forehead before he and I went outside and turned off the lights. Silence tightened around Alessio and me as we stood in the hallway. “Tell me the truth. If you want this marriage to work, if I mean anything to you, tell me what happened,” I begged. Alessio looked down at my bandaged arm. His shirt was half unbuttoned and he looked exhausted.
“I need a drink. Would you like to join me?” He held out his hand.
I hesitated, but seeing the tortured expression on his face, I took his hand and followed him downstairs. Sybil lingered in the foyer, with a worried expression.
“I prepared the soup. It’s in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure if you would have dinner…” She trailed off. She probably heard the fighting and saw Christian fleeing the house.
“We’re not hungry. Go home,” Alessio cut it short. Sybil sought my gaze. I smiled. “Thank you for making us dinner. Have a nice evening with your husband.”
She hesitated, then grabbed her purse and coat before slipping out. Alessio shook my hand and pulled me into the living area. A fire burned in the hearth as it does every evening. Usually the sight warmed me from the inside, now it did nothing to dispel the cold feeling of dread. He let me go to the liquor cabinet. I sank into one of the armchairs, stretching my bare legs, savoring the warmth of the fireplace.
“Make me a drink, too.” Alessio made a low sound, expressing his disappointment, but after a couple of minutes handed him a glass with about an inch of amber liquid. I took it and sipped it. Alessio slumped into the chair next to mine, rolling around the ice cube in the glass. His eyes were on me. “I knew it would come to this. It couldn’t be any other way. It had to end like this.” “This is not the end of anything,” I said.
“Not if you don’t let him. Do you want to lose me?”
Alessio took a sip and smiled bitterly.
“Haven’t I already done that?”
“No, but you will if you don’t stop hiding the truth from me. What happened today… I can’t get over it unless you tell me what made you act that way. Help me understand.” Alessio downed the rest of his drink. He stared into the flames and smiled bitterly. My phone rang, jolting me. Alessio’s expression darkened, but I recovered. I didn’t have to check the screen to know who it was.
“I’m fine, Christian.”
“I’ve contacted some of my loyal men in Baltimore. Father will not interfere, but I will if you need me to. Say the word and I’ll free you from him.” It was a betrayal. Considering how bad things were in the Family at that time, and how volatile Luke was, I could not allow Christian to consider these ideas.
“No. I’m fine, honestly. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Gianna…”
“Tomorrow.” I hung up.
“That look needs explanation, Alessio.”
He raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t know what I was talking about. I didn’t believe it for a second. His eyes burned with jealous rage when I talked to Christian. It was something I could not even comprehend.
“How can you even think that I have anything with my brother?” Downing half my drink, I stood up and knelt in front of him, touching his closed fist resting on his thigh. He opened it so that I could bring my fingers together. Behind the anger and suspicion in his eyes lurked deep pain and vulnerability. It was the latter that silenced my anger at what he had done.
“Please tell me the truth.” Alessio leaned down and kissed me softly. I frowned. This was not the time for physical closeness. I wanted answers.
“I needed that last kiss before you always look at me the way you looked at me when I attacked Christian.” He leaned back against the backrest, looking once again at the flames.
“I killed my first wife.” The ground fell beneath me. Slowly I pulled my hand away from his, wishing I had misunderstood him and terribly certain I had not. Alessio smiled darkly. He took his time to follow my horrified expression with his eyes.
“Not with my hands. She killed herself, but she did it because of me.” The relief almost took my breath away. If Alessio had really killed his wife, I could not be with him, not that he would ever let me leave him.
I knew that suicide was more common than people admitted in our circles, but it was usually the result of abuse and despair. What had Alessio done to his wife? He was good to me and to his children. I couldn’t imagine him abusing his late wife, unless her death made him change his ways. Even the cut on his arm–although it had not been Christian’s doing, it had not been his intention. He had later looked guilty.
“Why?” I asked, a little afraid to know the truth, but I wanted to get rid of the dark shadows of the past, and shedding light on what had happened was the only way to do that. Alessio smiled without humor. The flames created shadows on his sharp face.
“Because I killed the man she loved.” I was shocked into silence.