I went through his drawers and meticulously made sure I put everything back exactly the way that I found it, but there was nothing. There was no information here about my parents. What if I couldn’t find anything? What would the Agnelli family do to me then, when I wasn’t useful to them anymore?
I dialed Roberto's number and he answered again in just one ring. “What?”
God, I hated that voice. The anger in his voice, it was the same way I felt before he hit me. “I can't find anything that ties Luka to my parents. His place looks like it was decorated by his mother. Knowing him, he wouldn’t keep incriminating evidence that he killed my father just lying around. You have to give me more information. Why did my mother leave your family?”
“That's not important.”
“It is important. To me. Now I want the whole story.”
He sighed. “Fine. Your mother left because I told her to.”
“What? You never told me that before!”
“Listen, she wanted to marry someone that we didn't approve of. He wasn't part of the lifestyle, Vienna. He didn't understand our nature. He wasn't good enough for her.”
“So you disowned her?”
“For a while. Until she was killed, then we avenged her. Got that asshole locked up for life.”
“Wait, you know who killed my mother?”
He sighed, obviously annoyed with his admission. “Yes.”
“Tell me.” I held my breath.
“A friend of your father’s. He was like a brother to him. He was the one who ended your mother's life. But had she never gotten mixed up in the Gioti family, none of this would've happened.”
“None of what? You abandoned her! Why have you never told me this before?” Roberto and the Agnelli family had always made themselves out to be saints to me. They had taken me in in my time of need. They blamed the Giotis for the death of my mother when really, they had taken her in when her own family abandoned her. The Giotis weren’t as bad as the Agnellis had made them out to be. In some ways they were the same.
“Why did the Giotis give my mother a job? Did they know about her affiliation?”
“Yes. We were at odds back then. Mr. Gioti knew that your mother had done the books for me for years. She had grown up in the lifestyle, and she understood our ways. So they took advantage of that, and when she needed out of whatever stupid situation she had gotten herself stuck in, they gave her an opportunity.”
“She worked for them for years. Had they known someone wanted to hurt us, they would've protected her! She was important to them.”
“I can't even begin to imagine what they would have done. They're not our family. But you are. You’re our blood. And this whole nonsense with your mother started because of her poor choices and the Giotis putting a hit out on your dad. Your blood.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands. “I have to go,” I said between labored breaths as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. Here I was trying to implicate Luka as a murderer and he might have had nothing to do with it. The Giotis would've protected my mother. They would've saved her if they had been given the opportunity. Just because my uncle and his family had avenged her death by putting her murderer away, it didn't mean that this twisted relationship was better than the Giotis relationship with my mother.
It was in that moment that I realized I was in the middle of a blood feud, and I was just another pawn in their giant chessboard. And I was the only one who had the ability to stop it. I had to, for me, for my child.
I was going to own up to Luka about why I had been so easy to claim. About my mother. About the job Roberto was forcing me to do. I would save him from the Agnellis if I could.
What I felt for Luka could not be stopped. He was like a drug that I always needed to get my fix of. We would not be ripped apart again like we were when we were kids. Luka and I would be together. We would be our own little family. No matter the outcome.
17
Luka
I stood under a streetlamp next to the warehouse that we had set up the meet at. It was just me and my car and Marco in the pool of light. Everything else around us was pitch black. I could see a red exit light glowing from the warehouse next to us, but I didn't even see them approach. I only heard their car. I checked that my knife was latched securely at my hip, hidden by my dress shirt, and got out of the car. As soon as the mark shut his door, I put my arms at my sides. They needed to be ready. Marco was going to make quick work of the other guy. A shot to the head. It would be quick, painless. There wouldn't even be blood on his hands. But not me. I needed information. I needed to know which of Armani’s buyers had been working with him. Because they would all need reminders of who was the real boss. They needed to stay with the right side of the business. I still couldn't believe my father had gotten into some work with arms dealers. It was always such a messy business. Money-laundering was simple, and there was hardly anybody working on it. Just a lot of money. And that's how I liked to live my life: simply. But I understood that occasionally you had to get a little dirty for work.