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“Can you both please stop?” I take a deep breath and let it out to ease the pain. It does nothing much.
“Daniel, how do you know this?”
He looks at Alessandro, enraged, with his fist clenched. “I saw the same fucking tattoo of the man who killed my father on Thomas’ arm—a fucking arrowhead.”
“Bullshit!”
“Alessandro, shut the fuck up!” I tell him.
“How do you expect me to stay fucking calm? Fucking bugiardo (liar),” Alessandro is pacing the room furiously.
“Ask your asshole of a father! Although I’m not surprised; coming from a family of killers… you faked a marriage with the daughter of the woman you killed,” Daniel retorts.
My heart stops for a moment.
What?
My feet are glued to the spot as Alessandro runs past me and connects his fist to Daniel’s face.
“Figlio di puttana (Son of a bitch)!” Alessandro yells. Daniel falls to the ground with a busted lip. He spews out blood and saliva.
“Daniel?” I say, not wanting what I just heard to be true.
“Adriana,” Alessandro calls. He tries to hold my arm.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I seethe, ignoring the throbbing pain in my stomach. My chest feels like it’s on fire.
Fucking fire.
“Daniel, please tell me it isn’t true.”
Daniel wipes his mouth with the sleeves of his shirt. The blue sleeves are already deeply stained with his blood.
“Ask your loving husband, Adriana.”
Daniel tries to stand on his feet. I hate how he refers to Alessandro as my fucking husband.
I’m breathing heavily. My chest heaving with emotion… and anger. So much anger.
“Alessandro,” I say, turning to face him. He doesn’t look into my eyes.
“Fuck!” I hear him whisper.
“Tell me Daniel is fucking lying!” My eyes sting from holding back tears. It’s getting hotter. I can feel heated rage running crazy in my veins. “Tell me!” I yell at him.
He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his back to me. His silence infuriates me. Only confirming Daniel’s right. Daniel is fucking right.
My God!
“You killed my mother, Alessandro?” I whimper. I am still in shock. I don’t hold back my tears any longer. My cheeks feel hot as the tears keep on flowing.
The pain in my stomach doesn’t match the pain in my chest. I can’t get the flashes of the night I lost her out of my mind. The bullet in her chest. Beatrice and I screaming.
“Adriana, please.”
He turns back to face me, his eyes full of worry; or is it fear? I can’t tell from my glassy vision as I cry my eyes out. I don’t want to fucking see him. I walk back slowly, shaking my head in disbelief.
All this time I have been with my mother’s killer. Fell in love with him, fucking had sex with him. No, worse; I gave my fucking innocence to him…my dignity as Mother would say. Not just to a Malgeri, but one that killed my mother.
