Page 134 of Alessio

“All right.”

“Care to tell me about last night, and why I now have a dead man—a made man—to bury, and explain to the rest of my organization what happened that caused his death, Corrado?”

No.

He still did.

Corrado talked through the events of the night before in a monotone, not bothering to justify his actions, or where they led them to now. He’d done wrong—crossed a line. Oh, sure, he wasn’t the least bit fucking sorry for it. But yes, he had gone too far.

So, he was here.

He expected to be punished for it.

“I apologize for putting you in a bad position,” Corrado finished.

Gian sighed, his fingers drumming against the countertop. “That’s a careful choice of words, yeah?”

“He deserved what he got, Papa.”

“Perhaps, or he might have been another old fool with an opinion to share because of his raising, Corrado.”

He scoffed hard. “People don’t get to use age or their raising as a reason for their bigotry or homophobia—they just are those things, and they don’t want to change. Don’t excuse him, or people like him, thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, but … point taken.”

Cara made a noise under her breath and peered at Corrado over her shoulder with a sharp stare that pinned him in place. All mother’s had that one look. That stare that put the fear of God into her children, even if she had never raised a hand to them, let alone her voice. When his mother turned that look on him, Corrado wouldn’t be stupid enough to open his mouth and make it worse.

“And what about others?” she asked.

“What?”

“He is—was—not the only person in this world who will have an opinion and something to say about your life, the choices you make, or the way you love, not to mention … the people you choose to love, Corrado.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, what about them?” Cara demanded. “Are you going to beat the life out of every person who dares to say something you don’t like? Because that’s the thing, son. He’s one of many, and the next comment that hurts is right around the corner. You cannot kill every person who has something to say about you, or them.”

“Why, because you agree with them?”

Cara’s expression didn’t change. “You know far better than that.”

He did.

“Sorry, Ma.”

Cara turned more on the stool, resting her hands in her lap as she spoke to say, “The world is full of close-minded people who will have no problem opening their mouths. It’s up to you whether what they say or think matters to your life or choices. It’s up to you to decide if what they say matters. You have been fine to stick your head in the sand and hide your activities before now … but that can’t continue, and it’s not going to work after last night.”

Corrado’s chest ached from the tightness. Nothing his mother said was untrue. That didn’t mean he liked it pointed out to him like this, not that he was being given a choice. Hell, perhaps that was it.

Someone needed to say it.

And he needed to hear it.

“Figure out a better way to deal with people like that, and your issues,” his mother finished quieter, “and a way that doesn’t involve your hands taking their life.”

Right.

Easier said than done.