Page 38 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 1-4
Alceu stared out the window, and found himself thinking of that salon in the Hotel Andromeda where he and Dioni should never have been on their own. He thought about Dioni herself. Her dragging hems and hair that never stayed put. And about her tears, more specifically.
As if all that sunshine and happiness, all those smiles, had been nothing but a performance all along.
The very notion made his bones ache, as if he had gone brittle overnight and might shatter at the faintest touch.
Because he thought that he could bear anything. That he had. That he would continue to do so until the last of his cursed bloodline quit the earth for good.
But now there was Dioni. And their baby.
And it turned out that Dioni’s unhappiness was the one thing he could not abide.
It made him want to tear down the castle all around them with his hands—or, perhaps, he simply wanted an excuse to explode. To prove he was every bit as bad as his father had been, as Apostolis hadnot quitesaid several times already.
Alceu did not need it said.
He felt it keenly.
He might as well start laughing and telling Apostolis that this was what Vaccaros did. That girls were his for the taking. That the peasantry were otherwise pointless, and he would sample them as he chose, like so many amuse-bouches.
Alceu could feel his father all over him, then, like a second skin. He could remember how the old man had reacted when news of Grazia’s death had reached the castle. A shrug, then a laugh, as if it was nothing to him what a young girl he’d ruined might do.
You are only angry because I got there first, Giuseppe Vaccaro had said slyly.I am disappointed in you, Alceu. Did no one tell you that village girls are to play with, not place on pedestals?
Somehow, he had not attempted to kill his father that day. And he had always thought it ironic that his heart had been what killed him, seeing how little Giuseppe had ever used that organ. Over time, Alceu had understood that he had likely been more in love with the idea of Grazia than the reality of her, but then, he had never had the opportunity to get to know her the way he’d wanted.
And yet here he was anyway. A despoiler of virgins, exactly like his father.
As if there had never been any point in trying to make himself something different. As if he’d been cursed from the start.
He thought he would have preferred it if his friend really had taken a swing at him.
Apostolis drank another whiskey. And then he looked at his oldest friend and business partner, and smiled. Ruefully, but it was a smile all the same. “I suppose there could be worse brothers to have.”
“A ringing endorsement.”
Apostolis lifted his glass in Alceu’s direction. “I might, at any point in time, punch you in the mouth. Just so we’re clear.”
“Understood.” Alceu nodded, and it was harder than it usually was to remain calm. But then, he had only ever unleashed himself with Dioni and that was why they were in this mess. He could not risk doing it again. Not with her and certainly not in any other arena. He was already tainted with his father’s mark. He did not know why he’d imagined he could ever be clean, no matter how bright Dioni shined. “It will be well-deserved, should it happen.”
“More than well-deserved,” Apostolis agreed. He swirled his whiskey around his tumbler. “You did not bother to ask for my blessing, but I will give it to you all the same. As the urge to murder you fades, I believe that I want nothing but the best for the both of you. I have only one concern.”
“If you intend to question my ability to provide for your sister,” Alceu said, sardonically, “I invite you to speak to my business partner. He will tell you that I am more than capable of taking care of her and the child.”
“Very funny.” But Apostolis was frowning at his drink. “In all the years I’ve known you, you have been adamant that you would never marry, never have a child, never even date a woman long enough for her to think about such things. And yet here you are.”
Alceu wanted to drain the whiskey bottle, but he did not allow himself such indulgences. He could not trust himself. How many times did he need to prove that to himself?
“Here we are,” he agreed.
“I would hate to see my sister hurt, Alceu,” his friend said quietly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What I can tell you,” Alceu said, though the words seemed to wrench open a place inside of him he had no desire to look at more closely, “is that it is never my intention to hurt Dioni. If there is a way for me to avoid it, I will.”
His friend inclined his head. “Then I know it is as good as done.” He set his drink down and then smiled when he looked up. “You told me years ago that I could drop by at any time. Aren’t you glad that I decided now was that time?”
Alceu was shocked that he smiled at that, but he did. “As a matter of fact, I am. I did not like the idea that I was lying to you, if only by omission. But now it is done.”
It was done and there was no undoing it. That sat in him like stone, but there was no changing it.
