Page 117 of Thin Lines (Donati Bloodlines 2)

“Is that what you want people to know, Cal?” Affonsoasked. “That I raped your mother?”

“No,” Calisto whispered. “And it has nothing to dowith denying you, but protecting her. I would never shame her memory to otherpeople by telling them what you did to her. She didn’t want that, and shedoesn’t deserve it. So no, I won’t tell. But you won’t have your son, either.”

Emma hugged her middle even tighter, hurting for herlover.

“I don’t need you to act as my son for you to be aboss,” Affonso said quietly. “I think this proves it, doesn’t it? You need tostep up now, to deal with the Irish so that you can protect your family, andyour Cosa Nostra. That is what a good boss does, Calisto. I held off onhandling them, knowing that they would keep pushing until it went too far. Iwas right, son.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I was right,” Affonso repeated.

“At what cost?” Calisto roared.

“None to me. I have everything I want, now.”

“Go to hell.”

Affonso chuckled deeply. “I am already there, Calisto.But from where I’m standing, it’s a lot better place than your currentposition. You could have taken it long ago and saved us the trouble of all ofthis. I only helped you along.”

“I can still refuse.”

“And what, leave your family and Cosa Nostra exposedto the Irish?”

Calisto didn’t respond to that. Instead, he said, “Andwhat about your wife?”

“What about her?” Affonso asked, laughing.

“Do you plan on sending her away to protect her, too?”

“Why should I? She’s perfectly fine here. You’reobviously keeping an eye on her. She’s fine.”

“Jesus,” Calisto said, his voice strained. “You don’tcare about her at all, do you?”

“I didn’t marry the bitch because I care, Calisto.”

“Don’t call her that. Have a bit of respect for thewoman you married.”

“What does it even matter?” Affonso asked. “Emma isfine right where she is.”

Emma was still trying to piece it all together.

“You don’t know how to be a coward, Calisto,” Affonsosaid, sounding far too happy and pleased with himself. “I raised you far betterthan that, son. I taught you to protect Cosa Nostra first—it’s bred into yourvery being, it’s who you are. Don’t deny it now.”

“And what are you going to do?” Calisto asked. “Keep hiding?”

“If that’s what it takes. Cancun is beautiful thistime of year. My fight is already booked.”

“You … pezzo di merda.”

“Ouch, my heart,” Affonso mocked.

“What heart?” Calisto asked, scoffing. “You don’t haveone.”

“But you do, Calisto, and that’s all that matters.”

Emma sipped on a cup of coffee, watching Calisto fromthe other side of the table as he flipped through a newspaper. He hadn’t said asingle thing about Affonso showing up the night before. She had tiptoed backinto the living room and pretended to be asleep before Affonso left without somuch as a goodbye.

Not that she minded.