by Ford, Brenda
I turn to Jacopo. “If Giacomo is gone then there is no reason to bully his daughter. She isn’t one of you.”
Jacopo ignores me and turns to Silvio. “You’ve brought the new groom to do your talking for you, Silvio. Why am I not surprised?”
“He is concerned for Rose. As am I.” He sits down formally, keeping his back straight and unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sits. “Perhaps you can explain why you have interrupted the grieving of two children so soon after their father’s death.”
As repulsive as Silvio can be, I have to confess he’s a smooth talker in these kinds of situations. He has that slick, confident patter down to a tee.
“We have business to discuss and it is time-sensitive.”
“You don’t want to let my father’s assets slip through your fingers.”
Jacopo smiles. “You understand.”
Silvio leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “How about you tell me what you want, and I tell you what I can deliver. You said it yourself—let’s act like businessmen.”
“I was promised all that was your father’s.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Silvio!” Rose scolds him. “This isn’t the time for negotiating.”
“Quiet, Rose. It’s best you stay out of things you don’t understand.”
Chuckling, Jacopo turns his attention to Rose. “I knew your brother would not be so reasonable.”
“I knew you would try something,” Silvio said. “I knew before he’d died that you’d be there with your flock of vultures to swoop in before he was even cold in the ground.”
“People do unfortunate things when they are grieving. I was giving you the opportunity to act wisely while you still had your senses about you.”
“I’m ready for a truce. Enough blood has been spilled on both sides. You may have had conflicts with my father, but I’m the head of this family now.” He raises his chin proudly.
Jacopo raises an eyebrow. “Quite a speech, Silvio.” He claps slowly. “Unfortunately, having you here is simply a formality. It is your sister who holds all the strings now.”
“Rose?” Silvio turns to her.
“Jacopo says Papà has left everything to me.”
Silvio’s eyes widen. “Lies.”
“That was our agreement,” Jacopo says. “Of course, that was when Rose was promised to Raffaele. Your father already reneged on one promise so you can understand why I am hesitant to believe he followed through on any others.”
“My father reneged on nothing. I made the decision to marry Darren and leave Vegas,” Rose retorts. “I have my own mind. Something neither of you are able to understand.”
“I’ve had to bring you here to ensure you do nothing hasty,” Jacopo continues, addressing Silvio. “You are a hot-headed young man.”
“Soft men don’t do well in this business.”
“Indeed, they don’t. But neither do reckless ones.”
“You think you deserve a cent of what my father’s earned? His casinos, his business…they are his life’s work. Do you think I’d allow it to all be handed to you on a silver platter? Who the hell do you think you are, you self-righteous son-of-a-bitch?”
“You don’t think you’d be able to come to peace with Rose’s decision if she were to make your father’s enterprise mine?”
“You’re not getting your filthy fat hands on one dime of my father’s money.”
“That’s too bad.”
He flicks his hand in a gesture for his hitmen to strike. My training kicks in and I instinctively kick over the chair I’m on and use it as a shield, kicking Silvio out of harm’s way. When the shot misses, I stand to lunge towards Rose to protect her, but by the time I’m on my feet, I find she already has a gun against her temple.
“Darren…”
She looks terrified. Her sweet brown eyes are wide and filled with tears. She’s too scared to even blink so her tears stream endlessly down her cheeks. She’s hardly even breathing, staying as still as possible as the guard pressed the barrel of his gun against her head.
I’m overwhelmed with fear. I step back with my hands in the air. “Leave her alone.”
Silvio is still on the floor, white with fear and regretting his actions. “Stop.” He raises to his feet shakily. “Shoot me if you must, but leave her be. She’s pregnant.”
I catch Rose’s eye and her expression tells me all I need to know. It’s true.
Silvio raises both his hands above his head. “It’s yours. It’s all yours. Just leave my sister be.”
“I’m finding your sudden change of heart to be unconvincing,” Jacopo says idly. “I don’t see any reason to leave a threat alive.”
“I can be useful to you,” Silvio says. “Let her live, and in return, you’ll get it all, including my insight. I’ll make the introductions. I’ll handle the exchange. Make sure everyone knows you’re the new man in charge. No resistance. No fight.”
“And then?”
“I’ll disappear.”
“You expect me to believe that when all is done and dusted, that you just walk away?”
“We both know I’m not my father, Jacopo. I’ll never fill his shoes.”
“As Raffaele will never fill mine.” Jacopo frowns and gestures for his gunman to take the gun away from Rose’s head. “I’m disappointed you didn’t marry him, Rose. I would have appreciated a more suitable heir.”
He turns back to Silvio. “Don’t look so relieved. We’re not done yet. This is all hypothetical until your father’s will is read.”
“It makes no difference,” Silvio says. “Whether it comes from Rose or me, you can have it. I’m done with all this. You can have it all.”
“Your father’s lawyer is a connection of mine. He was present when our deal was made,” Jacopo says. “I’m going to call him here now, then we will settle this once and for all.”
19
Rose
I still can’t breathe after having that gun against my head. I can still feel the pressure in my temple; the ring of ice where the barrel was placed. And now Darren knows about the baby.
We all sit in silence while we wait for the dodgy lawyer to arrive.
Darren says nothing to me but he takes my hand and holds it tight. It feels like a lifeline. I want so badly to jump into his arms and feel him hold me. I’m desperate to apologize for the danger I put us all in.
It takes almost an hour for the lawyer to arrive. It’s a long, tense sixty minutes. Everybody is on edge; as you would expect with five guns in the room.
Silvio looks like a puppy with its tail between his legs. All bluster has gone from him. He’s quiet and meek, looking down at the ground. His skin is pale and his hair a mess. He looks like the hapless teenage boy he once was before Father turned him into something else.
At last, the lawyer arrives. He is extremely tall and built like a barrel. If I had seen him in the mansion under any other circumstances, I’d have assumed he was Jacopo’s top goon or a wrestler—anything other than a lawyer.
We all move to the dining room to read the will and conduct the exchange. The lawyer sits at the head of the table. Darren, Silvio and I sit on one side; Jacopo on the other.
“Mr. Collins,” Jacopo announces, “would you care to begin?”
Mr. Collins brings down a large briefcase onto the polished oak with a thud. “In this case, I have the last will and testament of Giacomo Lorenzo Russo, as well as all deeds and titles he has entrusted to me.”
He slowly begins to take folders out of the briefcase, laying them down on the table pile by pile. Finally, he draws out the will and opens it in front of him. “I will begin.”
He loudly clears his throat. “Know by all men these present, that I, Giacomo Lorenzo Russo, of Las Vegas, Nevada, being of full age and sound mind and memory, do hereby make, publish and declare this instrument to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking all Prior Wills and Codicils.”
The legal jargon goes on for a while. Mr.
Collins announces himself as Executor and goes on to name myself and Silvio as my father’s children.
Finally, he gets to the part of the will that we’ve all been waiting for.
“I bequeath no gifts or sums to any party. All assets, property, deeds, and cash values, comprising the full value of my entire estate are to be left in full and solely to my daughter, Rose Aurora Russo.”
I close my eyes. He really left it all to me.
Jacopo laughs. “Well, listen to that. Giacomo surprised me one last time.”
I look up at him fearfully. “What now?”
“That is entirely up to you, my Dear.”
I grab every folder that is in front of Mr. Collins and push it across to Jacopo. “Take it. It’s all yours.” I turn to Mr. Collins. “I’m giving it all to him. Draw up whatever you need to draw up. I’ll sign whatever I need to sign. I’ll keep nothing except what is in my own bank account and under my own name.”
Mr. Collins skims the documents once more. “You would be transferring a total of eight casinos, twelve luxury cars, Casa di Russo, and the sum of $2.3 billion to Mr. Alfonsi.”
“Jesus Christ…” Silvio breathes. He looks like he’s about to collapse at the thought of losing so much money and assets.
I swallow and hold my head high. “It’s all cursed. I don’t want any of it. My father wanted our safety, and this is what will keep us safe.”
“I’ll tell you what, Rose,” Jacopo leans forward with a smile. “As you have been so accommodating throughout this process, I want you to keep Casa di Russo in memory of your father and your childhood.”
I don’t want it.
I nod. “Very well.”
He turns to Mr. Collins. “Make it happen.”
It’s a long, long night. Mr. Collin’s works through each document thoroughly and slowly. But, by the time the morning light appears, it is done. Everything that was ever my father’s now belongs to Giacomo.
I let out a long breath of relief to be done. I am exhausted and drained. My muscles ache, my head hurts and my mouth is dry. I want to sleep for a long, long time.
“What now?” I ask. “Are we free to go?”
“You, I trust,” Giacomo says. He jerks his head towards Silvio. “Him, I do not.”
“He won’t cause you any trouble.”
Giacomo smiles. “I like you, Rose.” He stands and reaches out a hand to shake mine. “Leave Las Vegas tonight and either of you will come to no harm. But if I ever seen either of you in this town again, I will shoot without questions. I will not risk the lives of my men for a couple of kids with a vendetta.”
I nod. “My future isn’t here.” I pause. “Actually, I have one final request.”
“I didn’t realize we were bartering.”
“My father is still in the morgue. Give us three days to bury him.”
“Three days, Miss Russo. I will give you three days. But if you return after he is buried, the consequences will rest on your head. I will protect what is mine.”
* * *
We all go back to Casa di Russo.
I feel uneasy as we step into the dark mansion. Although Jacopo has said it is ours, I can’t help but fear that there is evil lurking in the shadows.
We’re all exhausted.
Silvio heads straight to the drawing-room and the liquor cabinet. “I need a drink.”
“Make that two,” Darren raises his hand.
“Me, too.”
The drinks are poured and we all go into the living room to drink. There is silence between us for a long time until Silvio speaks at last.
“$2.3 billion…None of us will ever see money like that again.”
“You saved me,” I say to him softly. “Why did you do that?” There are tears stinging behind my eyes. “I thought you’d kill or die for Dad’s business and his assets.”
“You were right, Rose. I have a choice.” He drinks deeply from his straight whiskey. “I couldn’t have done it. You’re carrying my niece or nephew. I keep talking about legacy and Dad’s empire, but what legacy is there if it all ends with me? Maybe it’s best all of this mayhem becomes a closed chapter in the Russo family history; the sort of thing a great-great-grandkid gasps over when he uncovers the sordid truth on some ancestry site a hundred years from now.”
Darren turns to me. We’ve not had a chance to speak and catching his eye now, I feel like the worst person alive.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I know I shouldn’t have come.”
For the first time ever, I see tears welling in Darren’s eyes. I don’t know if they’re tears of anger, relief or love. “You’re pregnant?”
I nod slowly. Tears start to fall from my own eyes. “It’s early days.”
“When did you find out?”
“I missed my period a few days after the chapel. We forgot to get that morning-after pill.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There’s a ball of emotion in my throat. “I didn’t know if you’d want my child.” I reach out to touch his sweet face. “You never meant to actually marry me. We were drunk. We didn’t plan a child. I was scared you’d leave me if you knew.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I throw myself into his arms and weep on his shoulder. I don’t know what I’m crying for but the tears won’t stop. All this emotion is rushing out of me—fear, sorrow, relief, gratitude…but most of all, love.
“I love you,” I tell him. I kiss him like I’m about to lose him. “I love you so much.”
He pulls me onto his lap and kisses me with immeasurable passion. “I love you, too. God knows how much I love you, Rose.”
* * *
We don’t waste any time in making the funeral arrangements.
Two days later, Papà is buried in the graveyard of the church where he and Mamma got married, a long, long time ago.
It’s a bright day, not the sort you’d expect at a funeral. There are no black umbrellas or a crying widow. There isn’t a host of mourners coming to say goodbye. There won’t be a wake.
There is nobody at all apart from Silvio, Darren, and I.
I shake my head sadly and turn to Silvio. “For all he fought for and all his millions, this is his funeral.” I swallow back my emotion. “If he were here now, do you think he’d say it was worth it? There’s nobody here.”
In a rare gesture of affection, Silvio takes my hand. “I was so willing to walk down the same path. But you’re right. Nobody’s even going to remember him. After a lifetime of trying to inspire fear, he’s been replaced by a bigger shark before he’s even in the ground.”
In a way, I’m glad it’s quiet. There’s been enough drama and mayhem since Papà died. I don’t want a load of strangers pretending to grieve standing by his grave. The people who matter are here.
His casket is a beautiful cream coffin with gold embellishments. It’s hard to think of him inside of it; he was always larger than life and in control. Now he’s a nobody in a box without even his fortune to outlive him.
Once the priest has finished his eulogy, he invites others to say a few words.
I step forward with the speech I’ve prepared. Silvio offers me an encouraging smile. This is why I stayed in Vegas—to say a proper goodbye.
My hands are shaking as I unfold my speech, even though there’s barely an audience. It’s the emotion that makes me tremble and the memory of all it took to get here. It’s the sadness of knowing that so much of my father’s life was spent in vain. He has nothing to show for it now.
I begin.
“When Silvio was trying to convince me to stay for this funeral, he told me that if I wasn’t there, there’d be nobody to speak for my father. Nobody to say anything good about him.”
I look down at his coffin and my heart spasms in sorrow.
“In recent months I saw a side to my father I wish I hadn’t seen. I’ve learned he was cruel and corrupt. He was power-hungry and relentless. He killed to get to the top. If he was anyone but my
Papà, I think I would have despised him.”
I swallow. These are hard words to say.
“But the fact is, he was my Papà. He used to sit by my bedside when I was sick and read me stories. He never missed a riding lesson. He was obsessed with making sure I had the right car.” I laugh at the memory and sniff. “For all that was bad in him, I know he loved his children. His final act was one of redemption—putting himself in danger to give me the life I wanted. After everything he’d done, he let me go.”
I pause for a second to get my emotions under check. “Some would say such a thing was a poor imitation of love but I know better. I wish I could stand here today having lived a different life with him; a life where he was not a criminal. In that life, he was the perfect father. In this life, I know he tried.”
I throw down the single white rose I’m holding onto the top of his coffin. “The fortune is gone, Papà. None of it mattered in the end. But you saved your children. Silvio and I will have good lives. Because of you, for you, and in spite of you. I hope you rest in peace, Papà.”
After the funeral, Darren, Silvio and I find the nearest bar to have a drink. Papà is not discussed again. We’ve said our goodbyes and now it’s time to look forward. It’s time to leave the mafia in the grave with him.
“I guess it’s all over,” Darren says, taking a long drink from his pint. “What will you do now, Silvio?”
“I’m leaving Vegas, that’s for sure.”
“You know better than to ever come back.”
“I’m going to take the $200,000 and my half of the money from the sale of Casa di Russo and I’m going to head to Wyoming.”
“What’s in Wyoming?” I ask.
He looks embarrassed. “You’re going to laugh at me but fuck it. I want to buy a ranch.”
I do laugh. “A ranch? Why?”
“I need to find myself. I’ve got a lot of anger in me, Rose. A lot of hate. A lot of regret. I want to go somewhere where I’m alone with my mid to think about the way I’ve lived and how I want to spend the rest of my life.”