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Softening, I wrap one arm around her back and delve the other into her soft hair, gathering her closer as I drop my head onto her shoulder. Breathing in her natural scent.
“Christ, Nicola.” Kissing along her neck, down her jaw, I finally capture her mouth. “You do need a daddy, and come hell or high water, that’s always fucking going to be me.” Stopping any protest she’d have made, I stick my tongue in her mouth. Tasting her, the coffee and pastry mix, and I tease until she finally relaxes in my embrace.
Pulling back is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Panting, I say, “We need to talk about some shit,cara mia.”
* * *
Nicola
Swallowing roughly,I stare up at Domino. The encounter with the police in the park was terrifying but nothing like the way this man is discerning me now. There’s anguish in his normally unreadable eyes while he guides me into the house through the garage.
“What do you remember about your birth parents’ deaths?” His question throws me off guard.
They’re people I haven’t thought about in a very long time. Mostly because I don’t remember them, but also because, as unreasonable as it, I’m angry at them for leaving me alone in this world.
“Truthfully, not very much. I get flashes of moments every now and again, but nothing substantial. I was only four when they died.” As we enter Santo’s office, Domino closes the door behind us and sits me on the small sofa in the room. “What’s going on, Domino?”
Staring up at the man who, in the last twenty-four hours, has completely rocked my world, I feel a trace of fear shiver down my spine.
“Gina Santini.” Anger erupts in my chest at the mention of her name. “She isn’t going away. Her father is chief of police here.”
“So I’m going back to jail then?” I have to ignore the chilling thought. “What does that have to do with my parents?”
Domino’s head shakes as he sits and cups my cheek in his warm hand. “No,cara mia, you are not going to jail. I will never allow that to happen.”
“Then what, Domino? Just spit it out.” I’ve never been a very patient person.
“The chief is not a nice man. He wants to punish you. In order to keep that from happening, Maso, Donato, and I asked our brother Santi to help find anything to use against the man so I can blackmail him into forgetting about you. To keep Gina away from you because, like it or not, you still have a month of school to finish and graduate.” Shifting nervously on the couch, he’s obviously found something, or he wouldn’t be beating around the bush so much.
“And what you found has to do with my parents?” His nod is solemn. “Please just spit it out, Domino.”
“Mario Santini, Gina’s dad, is the cousin to Vincenzo Salvatore, your adoptive father and also, the man who murdered your parents.” My head is shaking in denial before he’s finished speaking. That can’t be true. “There’s more, Nicola. I know you were young, but you were there. In the room. You watched what happened to them. You were the only living witness.”
“I feel sick,” I mutter, standing and pacing around the room. “Murdered,” I repeat. I would have remembered that. I’ve forgotten so much, but I would recall such a horrendous act.Wouldn’t I?
Rage wars with the agony slivering through my veins. For years, I’ve struggled with feeling unwanted by my adoptive parents. After all, they sold me, but learning they killed for me and then shipped me off to the highest bidder, it feels worse.
“Why wasn’t I good enough?” I spin to face Domino, uncaring about the tears flowing down my cheeks. “Why does nobody want me?” Noticing a stupid clay bowl I hand-crafted for Santo, I pick it up and toss it across the room. As it explodes against the wall, I crumble.
Into tiny, shattered pieces, just like the pottery.
Domino doesn’t hesitate as he sits behind me and wraps his body around mine. Holding me through the storm I feel quickly tearing me apart.
“Everybody fucking wants you,cara mia, but I’m the one who gets to keep you. I’m the one who lays claim and wins.” His words are only slightly comforting. As much as I want to belong to someone, I just can’t until I decipher my childhood.
Sniffling, I turn my head to stare into his deep-set eyes. “I don’t remember it. I should, right? Something so important.”
“No, Nicola. You should never remember the murder of those who gave you birth. That is too much for anyone.” Inhaling deeply, I try to focus on what I need to learn and what Domino is telling me.
“Why did Vincenzo murder my parents?” I’ve hated the Salvatores for years, hated that I share their name. Now, I’m disgusted. “What did they do to him?”
“From what Santi was able to gather overnight, they did nothing. Their deaths had very little to do with them personally.” Lifting my chin, Domino tilts his head to angle closer to me, and I know his next words aren’t going to help matters. “The Salvatores are part of an illegal adoption and trafficking ring. They kill families to steal their children. Some as young as days old. Others as old as ten or more.”
I’m the reason my parents are dead.
“From the day my father found out about you, he’s been buying children at these auctions and rehoming them. Sometimes he’s been lucky and able to return them to relatives. Other times, he has had to find the best-fit home.” This entire thing is sick.
“Why did he keep me?” I’ve been nothing but trouble for the old man. I talk back, I get in trouble. I’m a pain in the ass.
