The Guzzi Legacy: Vol 1

by Bethany-Kris

  “Or you could mind your business,” Corrado replied.

  His father shook his head. “I can’t ... not when I’m concerned.”

  “About what? The fact I have a woman with me, and I seem interested in her?”

  “No,” Gian replied just as fast and still calm, “the fact that someone else isn’t with you ... your brother mentioned, at the time he met Ginevra, you said Alessio didn’t know she was with you, and I have to wonder if he does now.”

  Corrado stiffened.

  Gian raised a brow in response. “What, son?”

  “What would that matter to you—if Alessio knew or not?”

  A flicker of confusion drifted over his father’s features before Gian was back to that same, unbothered demeanor as before. “Because I wonder if something happened with Alessio, Corrado. Has something changed there, and you’ve not told me?”

  A lot happened, then.

  Or rather, Corrado realized a lot of things.

  This moment that he’d wondered and worried about for most of his life was actually happening. His father might not be directly saying it, but he wasn’t dancing around it purposely, either. Gian was outright asking about Alessio, and Corrado’s relationship.

  Because he knew.

  And that was something else he realized, then.

  His father knew.

  His mother probably did, too.

  All his brothers.

  Of course, he knew that. And yet, a part of him had still thought, after all this time, that his family were fine and comfortable in their place of not asking. Because if they didn’t ask him, then he would never have to tell.

  Not because they didn’t love or accept him exactly as he was, but because this was how he chose to live his life. Not offering his personal life out like it was meant for their consumption.

  “Corrado?”

  He blinked, coming out of his thoughts with a bang. “I have not told Alessio about her, no.”

  Gian let out a slow exhale. “I know you two ... have a different kind of agreement about your relationship and other people, specifically women. I’m not sure if she falls under that, and guessing by your behavior right now, I don’t think—”

  “How do you know that at all?”

  “I asked.”

  Corrado’s jaw ached from clenching so hard. “Asked who?”

  “Alessio.”

  Huh.

  “And not me?”

  And why hadn’t Alessio told him that?

  When had that even happened?

  In the corner of the room, pouring himself a glass of scotch, Marcus cleared his throat, but otherwise, paid the conversation no mind. His oldest brother was good for that—more like their father than the rest of them combined, honestly.

  Marcus was fit for his position as the Guzzi heir.

  Undoubtedly.

  “Corrado,” Gian said, drawing his attention back in, “I just want to make sure you’re happy, son, and that everything is okay. Don’t think this was me trying to cause a problem, or ... something like that. It wasn’t. I just worry about you. More than I do the others, sometimes.”

  “I know I need to tell him,” Corrado managed to say. “I just don’t know how. It’s not just her ... it’s more than what’s on the surface of it, Papa.”

  Gian frowned. “All right. I’m sorry.”

  Corrado wished his throat wasn’t so tight when he asked, “How long did you know?”

  “About what—that you liked boys, too, or that you and Alessio were living and sleeping together?”

  Well ...

  “Both.”

  Gian nodded. “From the time you were fifteen for when I knew you liked boys, too. As for Alessio ... I was told about the kiss in The League’s gym shortly after it happened. Otherwise, I assumed on that based on the obvious fact you were clearly in a relationship with him.”

  Huh.

  “How did you know since I was fifteen?”

  “Cameras caught you kissing the boy from your school. I had the footage deleted, and your mother and I simply decided we wouldn’t pressure you in any way. We knew about the women you’d dated before that. And so, when, or if, you wanted to tell us that you were bisexual, then that was when you would tell us. It wasn’t for us to decide when it was your time to tell your truth, Corrado.”

  “I always thought—” He stopped abruptly, unwilling to say the words. It was the look his father gave him, willing him to speak, that allowed him to do it. “I thought you didn’t ask because ... I thought you didn’t want to know.”

  Gian rested back in the chair.

  Across the room, Marcus set his glass down.

  “Because of the traditions?”

  The traditions.

  Such a simple way to describe the culture of mafioso that his family was so deeply engrained in.

  “Essentially,” Corrado replied.

  Gian let out a noise, dark and dismissive. “I almost burned the city down once for a woman ... could you imagine what I would do to it for a child that woman gave to me, Corrado? Because that is what I would do for any of you—the way God made you never mattered one way or another. This life, this legacy, and this name ... it means nothing compared to what you, your brothers, and your mother mean to me. It gave me nothing compared to what she sacrificed and gave to me.”

  “I should have told you.”

  He should have done and said a lot of things.

  Not all to the people in this room, or house, either. But to Alessio, also, who still hadn’t called. The man with the piece of his heart that Corrado left in Vegas probably thinking they were chasing a dead fucking end together.

  Because how long had they been doing this together?

  How long had Alessio put up with this shit?

  How much more would he take?

  Except now ... now it was more complicated because Corrado had feelings in the game for a woman he had no business feeling anything for, and all this without having done nothing more than kiss her.

  He’d punched those nails in.

  That coffin was closing.

  Corrado had no one to blame but himself.

  “I should get back to Ginevra,” he said quietly.

  Gian tipped his head to the side, clearly hearing the pain in Corrado’s words. “Son—”

  “I have to get back.”

  “Okay.”

  Gian let him go.

  It was his wrongs that chased him out of the office, though.

  25.

  Ginevra

  “So, what’s that like?” Ginevra asked her companion as he directed them back out to the party. “Having another face in the world that looks just like yours?”

  Chris chuckled, his hand patting the top of her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. “Depends on which one of us you ask, I think.”

  Her gaze darted to the other side of the dining room that was currently being used as a gathering area for the many guests. The long table had been used to set up another row of white roses, while silk and chiffon hung from the large, crystal chandelier overhead. People milled about, chatting and laughing as music filtered in from the next room.

  It wasn’t the décor or the people that caught her attention, but Cara Rossi. And the two boys sitting next to her, and leaning close like they were sharing a secret. The other set of twins. Because apparently, there were two sets in this family.

  “There are a lot of twins in your family to ask, I suppose,” she said.

  Chris grinned. “And each one of us has a different experience about it. My mother is also a twin.”

  “Really?”

  “Identical, too. Her twin died when she was ... well, probably about your age.”

  Ginevra’s smile slipped away. “That must have been terrible.”

  “She doesn’t talk about it, so I assume so. Lea, that was her name.” Chris turned his gaze on her, and grinned, saying, “But I’m not supposed to be making you sad, right? And I think my mother would like to sit with y
ou for a few more minutes. You know, without Corrado stepping in on every question or deflecting.”

  “He’s so moody.”

  Part of her liked that, though.

  The other part squinted at him a lot.

  It was a work in progress.

  “Mmm,” Chris agreed, “and I bet he’s worse right now, too. He usually is when he doesn’t have his extension around to keep him entertained.”

  “What?”

  Ginevra peered up at Chris, but he didn’t answer her question. She didn’t exactly have time to press him for more, either. Cara caught sight of them coming her way, and with a wide smile, she waved them over.

  “Be good,” she heard Cara tell the younger pair of twins. Although, they didn’t look any older or younger than Ginevra, to be honest. It was only once Chris had pulled up a chair for Ginevra to take, and sit beside Cara, that the older woman passed a look to the men on the other side of her. “Ginevra, you didn’t get to meet these two properly earlier—Benedetto, and Benito, or Bene, and Beni, as they prefer.”

  The young men grinned, playful and mischievous. Their gazes drifted to each other, before coming back to her just as fast. Like actual mirrors of themselves, it was almost comical. Instantly, Ginevra knew two things about the twins. One, they were probably a hell of a lot of fun to be around. And two, she bet they were absolutely trouble.

  They just had that air about them.

  “Why do the nicknames sound a bit different from how their full names are said?” Ginevra asked.

  Cara laughed. “You ask strange questions, don’t you?”

  Ginevra shrugged. “Corrado says I surprise him with them. I think he likes it.”

  “He always did like different things,” Bene said.

  “Careful,” Chris murmured, his gaze cutting to the twin on the right. “Be very careful there.”

  “I didn’t mean it like a bad thing, I was just saying—”

  “Shut up,” Beni told his twin.

  “Fine.”

  Cara, still looking at Ginevra as though the conversation beside them hadn’t just happened, smiled a bit. “My husband is French and Italian. Their full names are obviously the Italian side, but the nicknames ... we’ve always said them more with a French flair. That’s all.”

  “I like that,” Ginevra replied. “It’s interesting. Unique.”

  “It’s about the only thing that sets them apart from one another.”

  Cara wasn’t exactly lying. Passing the twins a second look was like staring into a reflection of them—they sat side by side, their hands in the same position on their laps, their suits matching down to the cufflinks on their wrists, and even their smiles crooked up at the edges on the same side.

  They didn’t seem aware Ginevra was watching them, since they were too busy staring at something on the other side of the room, but it was ... fascinating. She wondered if they purposely behaved like mirrors of the other, or if this was just something they did from the time they were born.

  Twins were like that, right?

  Except, Corrado and Chris weren’t. Ginevra had noticed that about the men from the first night she saw them standing next to one another. Finding their differences had been easy to her, but this was not the same. At all.

  Chris laughed under his breath, gaining her attention. The shrug he offered to her said that he had been watching her, and probably knew exactly what was running through her mind. He nodded like he was saying, yeah, I know, right?

  She understood what he meant earlier now when he said every twin probably had a different opinion about what it was like to have someone else in the world share your face. No doubt, the two next to her had a different perspective than their older twin brothers.

  “Now, do you have any siblings?” Cara asked suddenly, drawing Ginevra back to the present.

  “Uh ...” Corrado wasn’t there for her to ask if that was okay, so she deferred to Chris thinking he probably knew the truth about why she was there. He nodded once, and then turned to grab a drink from a passing server. “I do—two sisters.”

  Well, three, if she counted Siena, now.

  And she was not mentioning her brothers.

  “Are you the oldest?”

  “I am.”

  “Ah,” Cara said, smiling, “and your mother must love that. Having all girls around her, I mean. People always think I must lack female attention with all this testosterone around me.” Just as quickly, the woman winked, her perfectly applied makeup not showing a bit of her age, and her loose chignon making her striking red hair seem like a deeper maroon under the lights in the room. “Like having all boys somehow made me into one of them, too. Don’t I look like that’s a problem?”

  Ginevra laughed.

  Still, in her heart ... it hurt.

  Cara hadn’t known it, but mentioning her mother was still a sore spot for Ginevra. She had moments where she didn’t think about her mother at all and passing time in her days where her sisters slipped her mind, too. And then, all at once, it came rushing back like a wrecking ball to devastate her again.

  It happened every single time.

  “But,” Cara drawled, grinning slyly, “soon they will all be married, and then I am sure I will have lots of women in this house. Won’t I, boys?”

  Grumbles came from the twins.

  Chris altogether avoided his mother’s stare.

  Cara looked at Ginevra and rolled her eyes. “They don’t like to talk about that.”

  “I can tell.”

  “That doesn’t make it less true, though.”

  Yeah, she liked Cara a lot.

  She felt like a mother.

  Ginevra really needed that right now.

  • • •

  “There you are.”

  Ginevra turned to find Corrado coming down the steps of the porch of the east wing of the mansion. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. And it was there, in his gaze, that she found the darkness. Something was wrong, even if he was more than willing to pretend like everything was perfectly fine.

  “Chris was showing me the back. It’s beautiful out here.”

  “It is,” Corrado said, nodding to his twin. “Thanks, man.”

  “Sure.” At her side, Chris patted a hand against her upper back. “This is where I say goodnight, but it was great to properly meet you, and not ... you know, peeking around a corner at me.”

  She didn’t even try to hide her snickers. “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “Have a good night, you two.”

  Corrado didn’t say goodbye to his twin, nor did he turn to watch Chris walk away from them. In fact, he didn’t take his gaze off Ginevra, and with every step Chris took away from them, she became more and more aware that they were alone. Sure, they were alone most of the time, but for some reason, it felt different.

  “Are you about ready to go?” he asked.

  Ginevra’s brow dipped. “They haven’t cut the cake, yet.”

  “I’m not in the mood for it tonight.”

  “It’s not really about you, is it? Seems like this was more for your mother and father, Corrado, and since they threw the party for you and your brothers, the least you could do is make an effort to please them and stay.”

  His jaw stiffened at that.

  Ginevra arched a brow to dare him to deny it. “Well?”

  “Ginny—”

  “Something is wrong. I can see it in your face. What is it? It’s not ... New York, right?”

  Corrado cleared his throat. “Not even close.”

  “Then, what—”

  She didn’t get to finish her sentence before Corrado closed the distance between them entirely. All at once, the space she had to breathe was gone when his lips crashed down on hers. The soft curves of her body fit perfectly into the fold of his as he leaned over her, a hand falling to her lower back to keep her from falling to the ground entirely. As his lips worked against hers, his tongue seeking the heat of her mouth, she fisted her fingers into the lapels of his suit jack
et, needing him closer.

  The kiss felt like heaven.

  And just like sin, too.

  How could a kiss make her entire body wake up like fireworks had been set off inside her bloodstream? Because that’s what it did.

  It felt like a hello.

  And a goodbye.

  All in one.

  Corrado’s lips slowed against hers, then, kissing her softly once, twice, and then a third time to her lower lip, whispering, “I had to do that one more time.”

  Ginevra blinked up at him, feeling entirely too high. Right then, she would have asked him to take her anywhere. Somewhere. As long as there was a bed, or a useable flat surface, she would have been up for it.

  Except it was the look in his eyes that kept her quiet. That pain—the storm she found warring in his gaze—stopped her from saying anything at all.

  Because a part of her knew, then.

  She just knew.

  His heart was not all in with her. Maybe that was why he’d constantly kept a distance, even though he clearly wanted to get closer. There was a piece of him somewhere else. Maybe she had known it from the start, or perhaps she pieced together the pieces overtime.

  What did it matter?

  She knew now.

  She felt it now.

  “I’m selfish,” he murmured, “so I had to do it one more time, Ginny, before I can’t anymore.”

  Her lower lip trembled.

  “There’s someone else, isn’t there?” she asked.

  “There is. It’s not as simple as it seems, and we’ve always been different and open in our relationship. This wouldn’t have been a big deal except I fucked up and started feeling shit about you that I had no business feeling. At that point, I should have done the right thing, but I didn’t and here I am.”

  Corrado dragged a hand down his jaw, shaking his head at the same time. “So yes, there is someone else. And I love them, but I haven’t been good to them, either. They deserve far better than what I gave—I need to give that to them, now.” Corrado didn’t look away from her as he said, “I’m sorry.”

  All the air in Ginevra’s lungs came out in a painful exhale. She felt his hold loosen on her, but he didn’t step back. Not yet.

  It was the buzz of a phone in his pocket that made him put distance between the two of them. It wasn’t much, just a couple of inches, but he wasn’t holding her anymore, and she could stare up at the black, inky Canadian sky dotted with the brightest stars.