Kon (Trassato Crime Family Book 2)(40)

“You’re sadly mistaken, Carmela. He won’t overlook what happened last night. Even if he truly doesn’t care, no man wants to look like a fool.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play games with me. I know you spent the night with Konstantin Trincher, and if I know it, you can bet your ass Nico knows it too.”

I stopped breathing for a second, my mind racing in time with my blood pressure. “How did you find out? Do you have people watching me?”

“Of course I do. You’re my sister. After everything that our family’s been through in the past couple of years, I won’t let anything happen to you. I can’t. It’d kill me.” He steepled his fingers together in front of his mouth, his eyes distant. “I promised Dad I’d make sure you were taken care of and happy. That’s all I want. That’s all Mom wants too.”

“I know. I’m sorry if my decisions hurt you guys. I love all of you, you know that. I can’t make choices solely to make my family happy, though, and right now that’s what it feels like. I know everyone expects me to marry Nico, and I’m scared to death that it will be a terrible mistake.”

For a beat, panic spread across Gian’s face, his eyes wild, his mouth ajar. He shook his head. “Konstantin will destroy you. You realize that, don’t you? Nico may not be the love of your li—”

“He’s not. Rocco was. That will never change. Anyone who comes after him is a cheap imitation.” My voice was a little unhinged. Hell, I felt a little unhinged.

Last night with Konstantin had me a little off balance in more ways than one, and that was before I walked into something that resembled a family intervention. Sex had never been like that with Rocco. Being intimate with him was like slipping into an old, favorite pair of jeans. Everything was familiar. Sweet even.

In contrast, last night with Kon was explosive, passionate, and greedy. He felt incredible. He tasted wonderful. He smelled…perfect. That was why I needed to reel myself in before I confused sex for love.

“Sweetie.” Gian placed his hands on my shoulders, a look of pity on his face. “You shouldn’t keep Rocco on a pedestal. He wasn’t perfect. He did dumb shit, made bad decisions. He’d still be alive if he had walked away from that fight with the DiTonno kid. He had no business being there that night. Too many people died because of his choices.”

I slumped back into the couch, feeling frustrated and foolish. “What did he do?”

“Let the dead be dead, and forgive their trespasses. There is no point in dredging up history. It’s a waste of time and energy.”

“Was Rocco cheating on me before he died?”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“Just tell me. I need to know. We fought that night, and I can’t stop feeling guilty about the things I said to him. Maybe if I knew he wasn’t innocent I could get closure.”

“Honestly, Carmela, I don’t know. Where’d all this come from? Did Nico say something?”

“No.” I chewed on the corner of my lower lip, plotting my response. “I overhead someone saying one of the DiTonnos killed Rocco over a woman.”

Gian glanced to the side, his eyes glinting with something. Anger? Sympathy? When he faced me again, he had scrubbed all traces of emotion. “Marco?”

“I guess. I didn’t catch his name.”

“Shit, I won’t lie to you. You deserve truth so here it is. Before he died, there were rumors. I confronted Rocco and he denied it. He had excuses and alibis, and most of them made sense.”

Dread settled deep inside of me and cotton gathered in my mouth, my self-preservation begging me to halt the line of questioning. “Did you believe him?”

“I knew him my whole life, and I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I shouldn’t have. He might not have died if I had pushed harder.”

The words left a gaping chasm in the heart I thought I no longer had. It was as close to an admission as I’d ever get, yet it didn’t give me comfort or closure. Not even close. On the contrary, it made me feel worse than before, and I was sick and tired of feeling shitty about everything in my life.

“You think he was cheating on me.” My voice shattered on the last word and with it came the urge to cry. I swallowed, but it did nothing to stop the inevitable. Pain, sorrow, and regret inched up my throat. A whimper echoed through the room.

Oh God. Not again.

Between my dad and Rocco, I thought I had shed all the tears allotted to me in this lifetime. Apparently, I was wrong. The possibility that my relationship with Rocco was one-sided made me want to take a scalpel to my chest and carve out the shattered pieces of my heart along with every memory of us together.