A Heart Decision

by Laurie Kellogg

  A hard knot formed in his gut as another possibility flitted through his mind.

  “No.” He shook his head. It wasn’t possible.

  “Tony’s your biological father, and Dante’s your half-brother,” she said, obviously sensing his need for her to say the words to make it real. “I prayed Tony hadn’t inherited the abnormal gene, so you’d be safe from the disease.”

  Hearing this was like living through a nightmare. He’d never been involved in any investigations involving Tony, however, nine years ago, he’d helped the FBI build a RICO case against Mario Roselli, a capo to Nunzio Marino, who was none other than Tony’s father.

  “So all of my brothers and sisters are only half-siblings,” he said more as a statement than a question.

  “Biologically, yes. Although, theoretically, you could say they’re also your half-cousins. But emotionally, they’re the same brothers and sisters they’ve always been to you. However you choose to think of them, you have to know your dad loved you as his own son. He felt no differently about you than the rest of our children.”

  He shook his head, trying to make sense of what she’d told him. “So why did Antonio Marino sire me instead of Dad?”

  A loud gasp jerked his gaze to the kitchen doorway where Crissy had stopped short on the threshold. Sabrina slammed into his sister’s back, almost knocking her over.

  CHAPTER 14

  Luke cringed as Crissy stumbled a few feet into the kitchen before catching herself on the counter. “Mama, what’s Luke talking about?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  His sister dragged out a chair across from him. “We all have lots of time.”

  His mother spread her hands helplessly. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “How about at the beginning.” Luke grabbed Sabrina’s hand and pulled her into the seat on the other side of him. “You might as well hear this, too, Brina. It may change your mind about marrying me.”

  “You?” Crissy’s gaze ping-ponged between them and eventually landed on Sabrina. “I thought you were marrying Ben?”

  His mom heaved a deep breath, most likely welcoming a reprieve from dragging her skeletons out of the closet.

  “Sabrina is—maybe,” he told his sister. “That’s another long story that’ll keep until after Ma’s explanation.” He turned and stared at his mother.

  “Well, as you all know, I was born in Italy,” she slowly started her story. “When I was sixteen, we lost my mother to a bombing.”

  Sabrina did a double take. “A bombing? There wasn’t a war in Italy then, was there?”

  “There was a period of socio-political terrorism in Italy between the late sixties and the early eighties,” he explained. “Historians call it The Years of Lead—probably because of the hundreds of bullets that flew during that time.”

  “Anyway, after my Mama was killed, Papà and I immigrated to Philadelphia, where he bought a small grocery store in the Italian market.” His mother smiled at Sabrina. “That’s how I met my Salvatore. He was so handsome. When he came into the store each Friday, I tried to wait on him, but my father always sent me to stock shelves or sweep up while he handled Sal’s order.”

  Luke rocked his chair back on its hind legs. “Obviously, your old man didn’t want you to have anything to do with Dad.”

  “Right. After a couple of weeks, your dad snuck to the back of the store before he left and asked me to meet him in the alley.”

  Sabrina’s eyebrows lifted. “Ahh, so you went behind your father’s back.”

  His mom nodded. “Sort of. I told him I was going outside to eat my lunch in the sunshine—which was the truth. Not long after that, it became our daily routine. I made sandwiches for our picnics and brought an old tablecloth and used packing crates to set up a makeshift dining set. Your dad would bring vino with cannoli or hot zeppole from the bakery. If it rained, we would sit in his car. When he left, he always kissed me and asked me to meet him again the next day.”

  “We get it. It was romantic.” He rotated his hand in a circular motion. “Can we roll things along?”

  She shrugged. “After a few months, Sal finally asked my father for permission to take me to a movie.”

  “So that was your first official date,” Crissy surmised.

  Their mother shook her head. “My father told him emphatically, no. Of course, I was crushed.”

  “Why’d he say no?” Sabrina asked.

  “That’s when I learned my father had borrowed the money from La Cosa Nostra to buy the store. It was Salvatore’s job to collect the loan payment every week.”

  Sabrina’s mouth dropped open.

  “If you don’t know, La Cosa Nostra is the Italian mafia,” Luke clarified for her.

  “I know. I just never dreamed your dad was part of the mob.”

  “Wait.” He raised one hand. “It gets better.” He turned back to Teresa. “This doesn’t explain how Antonio became my father.”

  “I’m getting there, Lucca. I told you, it’s a long story.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Anyway,”—she stood and took four glasses from the cabinet—“the large grocery chains were undercutting our prices, and the store was making less and less every month. Eventually, there wasn’t enough income to pay the exorbitant interest on the loan.”

  She pulled the iced tea from the refrigerator and placed the pitcher on the table with the glasses.

  “Don’t stop now.” Crissy filled the four tumblers. “What happened?”

  “After Papà missed several payments, your other grandfather showed up early one morning instead of Salvatore.”

  “Knuckles Nunzio?” Luke guessed.

  “Yes, that’s how everyone referred to him behind his back—never to his face. Your grandfather was a cruel, violent man, which is why he was called that.”

  Crissy snorted softly. “He sounds like Vito Corleone.”

  “You’re not far off, sweetie. The first two Godfather movies came out only a few years before. This was 1979, so naturally, when Nunzio left his two goons standing guard outside and locked the store’s front door, I was scared to death.”

  She slid back into her seat. “Nunzio dragged my father and me to the back of the store and explained that he’d ordered Sal to break my father’s legs, but your dad refused to do it.”

  “What’d your father do?” Crissy asked.

  “He pleaded for mercy, and Nunzio beat him until he collapsed unconscious on the floor. When the creep tried to kick Papà, I threw myself over my father’s body to protect him. Nunzio yanked me up by my hair. At first, I was sure he planned to hit me, too, so I spit in his face and told him what a monster he was.”

  Crissy gasped.

  His mother spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “I figured if I was about to die, anyway, I had nothing to lose. The bastard stepped back and looked at me up and down several times while I stared back at him. Finally he said, ‘So, you’re the gorgeous piece of tail I’ve been hearin’ about. I figured my capo had exaggerated when he claimed you looked like Rachel Welch. Apparently I was wrong. You have a body that would give a dead priest a hard-on.’ Then without any warning, Sal’s father grabbed the neck of my shirt and tore it right down the center.”

  Luke turned away, feeling sick.

  Crissy slapped her hand over her mouth. “You didn’t try to run?”

  “I was too terrified to move. While I stood there shaking uncontrollably, he said, ‘I can see why my son has the hots for you, but what I want to know is, how’d you make him turn his back on the family?’”

  ~*~

  Sabrina shuddered, imagining what must have happened next. She glanced at Luke who also appeared to be envisioning the worst.

  “Bastard,” he muttered.

  She squeezed his fisted hand, waiting for Teresa to continue.

  “Anyway, I told him I hadn’t made his son do anything, and that maybe Sal simply had the good conscience that his father lacked.”

  “That was gutsy,” Sabrina
muttered, feeling Luke’s anger and frustration rising by the second.

  “Evidently, Nunzio thought so, too. He said, ‘Your mouth is nearly as big as your tits—which I’m sure my son considers a huge plus when you’re blowin’ him.’”

  Luke did a double take at his mother. “Ma!”

  “I’m sorry, Lucca. You asked me to tell you what happened. I’m just repeating what your grandfather said.”

  “You have my permission to paraphrase.”

  “Fine. He followed that up by saying, ‘In fact, if Salvatore didn’t want you so damn much, I’d, uhh....take you myself, right now.’ Except he actually used the F word.”

  “Okay, we get it.” Luke raised his hands in surrender. “Our grandfather was a degenerate. Now I know why dad flipped out when he learned I’d drawn nipples on Brina’s Barbie.”

  Sabrina reached across the table and grabbed Teresa’s hand. “Please, tell us he didn’t rape you.”

  “No. Instead, he shocked me by saying, “‘I like you, Teresa. You’ve got gumption. If my son’s gonna take over from me someday, he’ll need a wife with a backbone. So here’s what I’m prepared to do. If you marry my son at St. Paul’s two weeks from Saturday, I’ll let your father live. As your wedding gift, I’ll forget the two hundred and thirty grand he owes me.’”

  “He was essentially trying to buy you,” Crissy pointed out.

  “And your father let you go through with it?” Sabrina asked, feeling as appalled as Crissy.

  “More than that, he begged me to marry Sal.”

  Crissy snorted. “After he wouldn’t even let you date Dad.”

  “My father swore, if I didn’t, he’d be a dead man within a month.” Teresa glanced between Crissy and Luke. “I was crazy in love with your dad, so naturally I agreed. Even though I was terrified of marrying into that family, I was confident Sal was nothing like his father.”

  Luke finally lost it and slapped the table. “Damn it, Ma, would you just explain how Dad’s brother became my father?”

  “You told me to start at the beginning. You can’t understand what happened without hearing this background first.”

  “Just cut to the chase, okay?” He took a long swallow of the iced tea Crissy had poured.

  “Fine.” Teresa tossed her hands up. “To make a long story short, your dad had already told your grandfather he didn’t want any part of the family’s filthy business. So marriage to me was Nunzio’s way of trying to drag your dad back into the fold.”

  “Apparently it was an offer Dad was able to refuse.” Crissy surmised.

  “You’re right. Your dad didn’t believe anything his father said or trust him to follow through. Tony was a year younger, so there was fierce sibling rivalry between him and Sal, which their father took full advantage of. When your dad refused to buckle under Nunzio’s blackmail attempts, the bastard punished your dad by disinheriting him and naming his brother, Antonio, as his successor.”

  “I’m sure Tony was happy to take Dad’s place,” Luke sneered.

  “Not in the business,” Teresa explained. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have the coglioni to stand up to Nunzio the way your dad did. Consequently, when my father walked me down the aisle two weeks later, Tony was waiting at the altar instead of Sal.”

  Crissy’s eyes widened. “You mean Nunzio pulled a switcheroo at the last minute? I thought the Mafia was big on honoring their agreements.”

  “Actually, your grandfather didn’t technically violate the terms,” Sabrina pointed out. “He only demanded that your mom marry his son. He never stipulated which one.”

  “What about the marriage license?” Crissy asked. “The bride and groom both have to be present to apply for one.”

  “Seriously, squirt?” Luke released a wry chuckle. “The bastard probably forged hundreds of documents in his life. You think he’d have any compunction about falsifying a lousy marriage license?”

  “Truthfully, I was so frightened I didn’t even think about a license,” Teresa admitted. “When I balked halfway down the aisle, my father shoved me forward to marry a man I’d never even met. Nunzio just stood on the groom’s side of the church staring at me and my father, making it abundantly clear what would happen if I didn’t become Tony’s wife in every sense of the word.”

  The vague similarity between Teresa’s story and the situation that Ben and Luke had placed Sabrina in made her wince. She couldn’t begin to imagine Teresa’s dread on her wedding night—forced to sleep with one brother while loving the other.

  She smiled at Luke as he gently rubbed her back, almost as if he, too, could see the parallel. However, unlike his mother’s circumstances, at least Sabrina had a deep affection for BJ.

  Still, would she experience the same wedding night jitters if she ended up marrying Ben instead of Luke?

  “So how did you eventually marry Dad?” Crissy asked, jerking Sabrina out of her thoughts.

  “After the wedding reception at Nunzio’s estate, he dragged me upstairs to Tony’s bedroom and said, ‘If you put up a struggle tonight, I know my spineless son won’t force you to consummate the marriage. However, I have no such scruples.’ Then he handed me a Xanax and told me to submit to my husband or he would rape me.

  “What a sleaze.” Crissy grimaced. “I hate the thought of being his granddaughter.”

  “That’s why your dad let you all believe he was an orphan.”

  “So now we know how Tony became Luke’s father. How did Dad become mine?” Crissy asked.

  “Well, your Uncle Tony is a decent man at heart. Xanax was fairly new, and I’d never heard of it, so I was afraid to take the pill. When Tony came to bed a half hour later, he found me crying. He offered to sleep in the guest room, but I told him what his father had threatened to do if I didn’t consummate the marriage. The fact Tony believed me, proved he knew the cruelty his father was capable of.”

  Teresa swiped at the tears welling in her eyes. “He was very sweet and gentle, and he promised to be a good husband. I tried to adjust to being his wife, but I was still crying for your dad after a week in his brother’s bed. Tony finally called him and told him I was a lousy lay and Sal could have his leftovers.”

  “What did our grandfather do?” Crissy asked.

  “Not a damn thing. Tony finally found the courage to stand up to the bastard and issued an ultimatum. Nunzio had to leave my father alone and allow me to apply for an annulment so your dad and I could be married in the Church. Otherwise, Nunzio would lose two sons instead of just one.”

  “Wow.” Sabrina shook her head. “What a romantic ending to such a horrible story.”

  “Yeah, if it hadn’t turned out that way, I wouldn’t exist.” Crissy chuckled. “I only have one more question.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Luke muttered.

  Crissy glared at him. “If you were married to Tony for only a week, why are you so sure he’s Luke’s biological father and not Dad? Didn’t the two of you sleep together until after you were married?”

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit private?” Luke asked.

  Crissy shrugged. “Don’t you want to know?”

  “Yes, we lived together,” Teresa told her. “We knew it would be at least a year before the Church approved the annulment. When I found out I was pregnant, we weren’t sure who’d fathered my baby until after Luke was born. Both your dad’s and my blood type is B, and your brother’s is type O.”

  “So does Tony know he got you pregnant?” Luke asked his mom.

  “For years he didn’t have a clue. Then when I went to tell him about your dad’s illness and death, he guessed after I started nagging him to be tested. He swore he’d never tell you he was your father, but he made me promise, if you ever found out, I would make sure you don’t think badly of him for not publicly claiming you as his son.”

  “Obviously, the two of you have kept in touch. Just as a matter of curiosity, do you know how advanced his disease is?” Luke asked.

  “He only became symptomatic
a few years ago. I think the main reason he handed the reins over to Dante is because he was told stress might exacerbate the course of his disease.”

  “At this stage his chorea is probably fairly well controlled with meds,” Sabrina told them.

  “I’d like to propose a toast.” Crissy lifted her iced tea.

  They all raised their glasses and waited expectantly. “Well,” Luke asked, “what’s the toast?”

  “Thank God Tony grew a pair.”

  Amen.

  ~*~

  Hearing his mother’s story and how she’d cried for his father while she’d been married to Tony left Luke more determined than ever to prove himself genetically sound. He wanted Sabrina to marry him if at all possible, however, if he tested positive, at least she cared deeply for Ben.

  The next day when he called for an appointment to start the genetic testing process, the receptionist insisted, regardless of his time constraints, the soonest date they could fit him in was two weeks away. However, the woman told him he could speed things up, in the meantime, by contacting a local therapist to begin his counseling sessions.

  At least a dozen times in the four days that followed, he mentally kicked himself for insisting Sabrina return to her apartment. Sleeping without her in his arms was, at best, difficult—especially considering how far the temperature had dropped the last two nights. Not seeing her or talking to her had been sheer torture.

  He’d spent the first two nights with his nose pressed to the pillow she’d used. Unfortunately, by the third night, her scent had completely dissipated.

  On the fifth day, he dragged himself out of bed, drove to her apartment in Cal’s car, and insisted she accompany him to his counseling appointment as an excuse to spend time with her.

  “What’d Ben say when you told him I made you move back to your place?” he asked after she settled in the passenger seat next to him.

  “Not much. He appreciated your sensitivity to how he feels. Although, he said if I decide to accept his invitation to go to Paris with him next week, you can bet he won’t be as noble.”

  “That sounds like him. What’s in Paris?”