Page 102 of The Proposal
“I knew that first night the Cosa Nostra wasn’t for me. I struggled to pull that trigger, and do you know what that piece of shit Edoardo said to Papa?”
“What?”
“Are you going to just stand there and let this little punk disrespect you like that?”
“Wow, what a cunt. I bet Papa didn’t appreciate that.”
“Papa pulled out his gun and raised it to my head, giving me an ultimatum. End his life, or he’d end mine.”
“What the fuck!”
“At that very moment, I lost all respect for the man I loved and looked up to.”
“Fucking hell, Alex. No wonder you pushed back so much over the years.”
“I knew it wasn’t a life I wanted. I didn’t have the stomach for it. If Edoardo was still alive, though, I wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his fucking head. Poor Mamma didn’t deserve that.”
“It’s what I struggle with the most.”
“Did Edoardo act alone in this whole Mortelli mess?”
“I’m not sure. I was in the middle of interrogating him when the truth about Mamma came out. I kind of lost it at that point and shoved my gun down the back of his throat and pulled the trigger.”
My confession has my brother grimacing. “Does that mean there’s still a chance there’s a traitor in the ranks?”
“I know Stefano was in contact with Edoardo.”
Alexander’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your father-in-law?”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell, Dante. Have you spoken to him about it?”
“No, but I seized two phones and a computer from Edoardo’s warehouse. I’ve sent them to Spencer Prescott.”
“Good. If anyone can find anything on them, it will be him.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What is going to happen with you and Arabella if you find out her father is in on it?”
“Nothing, like I already told you, she hates him.”
“Can I ask why?”
I pause for a moment, contemplating whether to tell him the truth, but I know my brother will worry about me if I don’t give him something substantial.
“This stays between us. I don’t want it to get back to Arabella because it’s not my story to tell.”
“You have my word. I can see how much you care for her, and I’d never willingly come between that.”
“I love her,” I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
It’s the first time I’ve voiced those words out loud, and there’s something freeing about it. It’s like letting those feelings drift into the air, solid and real. Just like those stupid dandelion flowers Alexander and I used to wish on when we were kids.
“You even have her name tattooed across your chest. If that doesn’t scream, ‘I love this woman’, I don’t know what does. It might as well be in fucking neon. You’ve never been one to do things by half.”
“What can I say? I’m an overachiever.”
