The Minaldi Legacy

by Courtney Cole

  He smiles down at me.

  “It wasn’t only me. You were there, Luca. I may have killed them, but you raped them. And then, of course, I raped them, too. It would have been wasteful not to, don’t you think?”

  I feel nauseous at his words. “I can’t believe this,” I mutter. “I raped them because you drugged me. I trusted you. You were supposed to be my closest friend.”

  Adrian smiles sardonically in a way that I’ve never seen him smile before. It is in this moment that I realize that I never really knew him at all. He’s insane.

  “Oh, you can trust me when I say this: I will put you out of your misery, friend.”

  Adrian starts to walk up the steps when I hear something loud.

  Chopper blades.

  Adrian freezes.

  Lights are flashing all around us and then I hear a loud-speaker.

  “Luca Minaldi, if you are on board, come out where we can see you.”

  I’ve never been more relieved in my life.

  That is, until Adrian returns with a large knife in his hand. He cuts my ropes and yanks me to my feet, sticking the knife against my spine.

  “Go,” he says. “Don’t try anything or this knife gets buried in your back. Don’t doubt it.”

  “I don’t,” I say calmly, walking slowly up the steps.

  We step on deck and there are helicopters circling low and boats surrounding us.

  “Luca Minaldi? Are you alright?” the loud speaker calls out.

  I shake my head no.

  “Adrian Leopoldo! Step away from Mr. Minaldi. Be advised that there are rifles trained on you at this moment.”

  “Fucking son of a bitch,” Adrian mutters. “You’re a fucking son of a bitch, Minaldi. You always think you will come out ahead. But not this time.”

  Before I can think, breathe or move, he has yanked me overboard with him. On the way over, his knife sinks into my shoulder but I don’t even feel it.

  The water is choppy because of an impending storm and I fight to get back to the surface. I choke in water as the waves roll over my head and I am washed under again, slammed into the side of the boat. I grapple with a line that I feel there, and pull myself to the surface, clinging to the boat. When I push my head above water, I don’t see Adrian anywhere.

  I hold fast to the side of the boat with one arm, the uninjured one, until help arrives. I’m hauled back on board and friendly faces surround me, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders while a medic examines my shoulder.

  “Mr. Minaldi, this is your lucky day,” one of them tells me. “The knife missed your artery. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Did you get Adrian?” I ask, searching behind them. Adrian isn’t there and the medic shakes his head.

  “No. We haven’t found him yet. The current is bad today. He can’t survive out there.”

  It doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing that matters. One person that matters.

  “Do any of you have a satellite phone?” I ask. “I need to make a call.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Eva

  My cell phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out. I don’t recognize the number, but I answer it anyway.

  “Eva?”

  I would know that voice anywhere, that husky, rich voice.

  “Luca,” I cry in relief. My knees feel like they will collapse and I sink back into the chair, my fingers trembling as I clutch the phone. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” he tells me. “I am now. I’m coming home. Will you meet me at Chessarae? There’s so much to explain.”

  “I’m already here waiting for you,” I tell him happily. I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Hurry home.”

  And he does.

  A couple of anxious hours later, Luca is walking through the door. Tall and strong, he strides directly through the room, stopping for no one until he reaches me. He is wet and as he bends in front of me, his dark hair falls across his forehead and droplets of rain drip into my lap. He stares at me and it is like we are the only two people in the room, as though his brothers aren’t even here.

  Looking into my eyes, he whispers, “I’m not a monster, Eva.”

  My heart seems to split into two at the vulnerable look on his face. At this moment, he is a little boy who wants acceptance. He is the little boy whose mother hated him, who grew up thinking he wasn’t fit to be alive. I picture Luca as a scared five-year old, tied to his bed in the dark and my eyes fill with tears.

  “No, you aren’t. You never were.”

  He buries his head in my chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me.

  “But I’ve done terrible things. Can you forgive me?”

  My heart cramps and a lump forms in my throat. “It wasn’t you, Luca. It was never you. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  He draws me to him, then pulls me from the chair. Holding my hand, he leads me from the room. Christoph and Damien speak to him as we pass, telling him they are glad he’s safe. He speaks to them, but we don’t stop. We pass through the large house, winding through the halls until we reach his bedroom. We tumble into his bed and Luca wraps his arms around me.

  We stay awake for the longest time. We don’t speak, we just exist together. My head rests against his chest and I listen to his heartbeat. It is that comforting, strong sound that lulls me to sleep and we stay wrapped together all night.

  When I open my eyes, Luca is staring into them. He is lying on his side watching me, ever beautiful in the morning sun. He has a bandage on one bare shoulder.

  He watches me wake and smiles.

  “Good morning.”

  I smile back. “Good morning.”

  “We have a lot to talk about,” he says. I nod.

  “I know. But everything will be alright now, Luca. We’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

  “I know,” he agrees. He bends and kisses me and everything really does feel like it will be fine.

  We get up and shower, then have breakfast with his brothers in the formal dining room.

  Christoph is leaving today, but Damien will stay for another day or two to take care of some loose ends. I don’t ask what his loose ends are, but the following afternoon, a group of hunters come across a pack of wild wolves. A news story intimates that these wolves might be the very same ones that were responsible for the vicious killings that have happened of late.

  Hearing that, I look up into Damien’s intense eyes. I suddenly know what his ‘loose ends’ were. He was ensuring that his brother was protected. I’m sure that someone, somewhere, is getting paid so that the DNA test results on those girls is suppressed, so that there is no evidence that they were sexually violated.

  I should feel guilty about being thankful for that. But I tell myself that the girls are dead anyway. There’s no reason why Luca should have to further pay for a crime that he didn’t want to commit. He was drugged. It wasn’t really him committing those acts. And I know that Damien will also ensure that Adrian, the one who should truly pay, is found and privately punished.

  I am more grateful than I can express to Damien.

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he says when I try to talk to him about it. “Luca is my brother, but more than that, he is a good man. He doesn’t deserve what has happened to him.”

  “None of you have,” I tell him. “This thing hasn’t just affected Luca. It’s affected all of you, for so very long.”

  I stop talking and think about Melina and Nicolas and all of the Minaldis before them, all of them believing that they carry some sort of evil genetic anomaly. All of them believing that they were monsters. It’s heartbreaking. I glance at Damien, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. He shakes his head, as though to free his head of troubling thoughts.

  “It’s over now, though,” he points out. “And Luca has you. And I know you will help him through this. My brother is strong and so are you.”

  I smile and hug him, and he even feels like Luca. Strong, powerful and lithe. He leav
es to return to London with instructions to call him if he is needed.

  Luca and I are once again alone.

  We attempt to return to normalcy, taking it one day at a time. I stay at Chessarae with him and put things in motion to get my license to practice medicine in Malta. I can’t imagine returning to the States right now. I can’t imagine leaving Luca. I know that he can’t, either.

  “Stay with me,” he said to me the day after everything happened. “Don’t leave.”

  And I promised him that I wouldn’t.

  Chessarae is a beautiful place, filled with dark memories and beautiful scenery. I spend my days walking through the gardens, taking trips to town and revising my thesis with my mentor from the hospital in Portland. When it is finally ready, Luca and I take a week and travel to the States while I defend my dissertation in front of a panel at the University.

  I pass with flying colors and I am approved to specialize in Psychiatric medicine.

  Luca and I spend the weekend celebrating in Portland, strolling down the scenic walks beside the Willamette River which flows through the center of the city. Luca laughs about the near constant rain, but I remind him that that is why the Pacific Northwest is so beautiful and green. He laughs and reminds me that Malta is beautiful, too, and it doesn’t need to rain constantly to stay that way. I have to concede that point.

  We return to Malta and life continues, seemingly idyllic.

  I pester Luca, insisting that at some point, he will have to talk about everything that happened with me. And if not with me, then with someone. He agrees.

  “Adrian is still out there,” I remind him. “I know that Damien has hired people to find him, but he’s still out there. That must weigh heavily on your mind. You need to talk about it.”

  “But I’m not ready yet,” he tells me. “I have to process it first myself. Then I’ll discuss it with you.” I agree with that. It’s perfectly understandable.

  “We’re completely safe at the house,” he assures me. “We’ve hired extra security. Adrian can’t hurt us.” I believe him. Damien told me himself that the Minaldis have extensive resources. I know that we are safe. Chessarae is a virtual fortress.

  I know he is troubled, however. I wake many times in the night to find that he isn’t in bed. I always know where to find him. He plays the piano because the music soothes him. Each time I wake and he is gone, I sit with him while he plays for a while before I lead him back to bed.

  One night, I find him alone on the terrace at 2:00 a.m., staring at the moon in the darkness.

  “I should turn myself in,” he tells me quietly. When he turns to me, I can see the angst on his face. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “No,” I am firm. “How is that the right thing to do? Adrian is at fault for everything. You didn’t rape those girls. The drugs that Adrian gave you raped those girls. Then Adrian killed them. Why should you turn yourself in for that? Because of Adrian, you’ve hated yourself your entire life. Because of what he did, you will feel guilty for the rest of your life. I know you. You will carry this guilt forever and that is quite enough punishment for something that you had no control over. You didn’t do this, Luca. Adrian did.”

  He nods, but I can see that his heart isn’t in his words. “I know that. But my body forced those girls against their will. It was my body, even if I wasn’t in control of it. Every once in a while, I get memory flashes, just little bits and pieces. There are times when I see their faces and it makes me sick.”

  I turn his chin so that he is looking at me. “It wasn’t you, Luca. It was Adrian. You have been a victim in this, too. And Damien’s men will find him and he will be punished. The rightful person will be punished and that is not you. Those girls will be vindicated. I promise.”

  He nods, but mumbles, “Still, I have to do something.”

  Soon after, I hear from Marianne that an anonymous benefactor has set up very large memorial funds for the girls’ families. I know it was Luca, although he never mentions it.

  Time passes; weeks, then a month.

  One night at dinner, several weeks after we return, we are eating a formal six-course meal when Luca pushes away from the table during the second course.

  “I’m in the mood for a ride. Are you?”

  I smile. “On a horse?”

  Luca nods. “On the beach.”

  He doesn’t have to ask me twice.

  We share a horse, like we did the last time, so many weeks ago. I lean against his chest and he wraps his warm arms around me, keeping me safe and secure in the night. I watch the sea lap gently at the sandy beach. It’s soothing. Being here with Luca is soothing.

  Luca draws the horse to a stop and slides to the ground. I stare at him in confusion.

  “I’m in the mood for a swim now,” he tells me with a wolfish grin.

  “In the dark?” I quirk an eyebrow. “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “Neither did I,” he says wickedly. He strips off his clothes, then helps me strip off mine. We run into the waves, laughing like children. The moon hangs overhead, romantic and full. The magic of it is too much to resist and I grab Luca, pulling him to me. I cover his lips with mine, kissing him with everything that I have.

  He makes love to me in the water, as my legs wrap around his hips. When we are finished and spent, we lay in the sand on the beach, staring up at the stars.

  “You’ve saved me,” Luca says quietly. I turn to him in surprise.

  “I didn’t save you,” I tell him firmly. “You didn’t need saving, Luca. Your entire life as you know it was a lie. Even if I hadn’t been here, you would have come through it just fine.”

  He shakes his head.

  “You have been my saving grace from the moment I met you, before you even knew it. It sounds silly to say, but it is the truth. You offered me hope when I didn’t have any. I’ve clung to that notion from the beginning, even when I knew that I shouldn’t endanger you, that I shouldn’t chance it. I knew, even then, that there was something different about you. I can’t imagine ever being without you.”

  “You never have to be without me,” I assure him, my voice catching. “Luca, this has been difficult, I know. But I’m here to stay. You’ll never have to be without me and I’ll never have to be without you.”

  “Promise me,” he says, picking up my hand and staring into my eyes. His are a stormy black. “Marry me. Stay with me forever.”

  I look at him, at his beautiful chiseled features, at his handsome grin, his perfect smile. “Yes,” I tell him. “I will stay with you forever.”

  He kisses me softly, pulling me to him and we make love on the beach.

  “I don’t have a ring,” he tells me as we ride back to Chessarae, tired and spent. “I don’t want to use my mother’s or my grandmother’s. I want something new, something that isn’t associated with anything dark or ugly. We’ll go to town tomorrow and you can pick anything you’d like.”

  I smile in the dark. “I’m not worried about the ring,” I tell him sleepily. “If I could wear you on my finger, I would.”

  “I’m wrapped around it already,” he says drily. “Does that count?”

  We laugh and return the horse to the stable, then find our way upstairs to Luca’s bedroom. To our bedroom. We fall asleep immediately with our arms wrapped around each other and the moon shining in our room through the open balcony doors. Life is perfect.

  Or at least, it is until Luca wakes me in the night.

  I startle awake, taking a moment to realize that Luca is perched above me, drenched in sweat. As the moon shines in and my eyes adjust to being awake, I see the same empty expression in his eyes that I’ve seen so many times before.

  The empty, dark expression.

  My heart seems to freeze in my chest, afraid to even beat.

  “Luca?” I ask, my voice hesitant. “Are you alright?”

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he mumbles something that I can’t understand. I shake his shoulder.

  “Luca, wake
up.” But he doesn’t respond and I realize, with a sinking heart, that he isn’t asleep.

  “Luca,” I say again, more firmly this time. He looks at me, but doesn’t see me.

  “I’m sorry,” he mutters over and over. “So sorry. Forgive me. There was so much blood. Forgive me.”

  He’s repeating himself over and over, and wipes at his hands as if to wipe the blood away.

  He’s not himself.

  How many times have I heard him say those words? I’m not myself.

  But he’s not.

  Again.

  My heart drops into my stomach as he climbs from the bed and walks naked from the room. I jump up and chase him, calling for him to come back. But he doesn’t stop. My voice doesn’t sway him, my fear doesn’t move him. He’s immersed in something that only he can see.

  Finally, as I scream at him to stop, he turns to me and the empty, dark expression in his eyes, so devoid of anything but torment, terrifies me.

  And I know that it isn’t over.

  The Minaldi Legacy, Part Two:

  OF DARKNESS AND DEMONS

  By Courtney Cole

  It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.

  -Buddha

  Prologue

  At night, I walk alone.

  Amid the dark and the shadows, I sink my feet into damp sand and continue on my way. The salty sea water laps at my ankles, washing over the bare skin of my feet. It can’t wash me clean, however. Nothing can.

  But that doesn’t matter here in the night. No one can see me for what I’ve done, for what I might still do. The demons can’t chase me. They can’t find me in the dark although it wouldn’t matter if they could. I’m worse than all of them, yet I’m one of them all the same.

  The dark, the demons… I belong to them.

  My will doesn’t matter, my intentions don’t matter, my thoughts don’t even matter.

  They aren’t my own anymore.

  I am a child of demons and darkness.