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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Mya

The numbers didn’t lie. Alone in my room, I stared down at the computer screen, not believing my eyes.

There were accounts I didn’t know about set up in Jason’s name. The accounts showed money flowing in and out for years. Large sums of money.

When we arrived at the house, Dario had dropped a ledger next to my leg with the names and account numbers. At first, I’d thrown the ledger at his head and told him to fuck off. He’d easily dodged and walked away casually, like nothing had happened.

I told myself that he was trying to sully Jason’s name. He was trying to make me believe that a good man had worked for a monster.

I’d told myself to just ignore the ledger, but then I looked through it.

“What had you gotten yourself into, Jason?”

My hand shook as I looked over the statements. Tens of thousands of dollars over the period of several years after we were married.

Where had it come from? And why did he open these accounts?

I thought about how little money we had had. We had kept a jar in the kitchen with cash in it, saving up for a vacation to a tropical location that we never got to take.

My insides felt twisted into knots. I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. What had Jason done? I knew he couldn’t have been working for the Mafia, there was no way. That’s not who Jason was. Or was it?

Then I thought of how manipulative and Machiavellian Dario was. Was this some sort of trick by Dario to get me to vilify Jason? To get me to believe the worst in him?

Staring at the coffee table in front of me, my mind wandered back to the night Jason came home looking dejected right before he died.

I’d asked him what was wrong, and he had walked right past me as if I wasn’t even there. It had surprised me, because Jason always acknowledged me as soon as he came in, even if it were just a grunt…which it frequently was toward the end.

With heavy steps, he had made his way to the bathroom, and I could have sworn I could hear him crying once he closed the door.

Later, he took a shower and climbed into bed. Instead of rolling over and wrapping his arm around me, I could feel him next to me, wide awake, thinking.

I’d asked him what was wrong and he hadn’t answered. He’d just told me not to worry about it and to get some sleep because it was late.

His voice, I remember, had sounded so sad, almost as if he were lost.

Could his mannerisms and actions that night have anything to do with what Dario had said?

I didn’t want to find out, but on the other hand, I needed to know. I needed to find out. I had to find Dario to ask him what exactly was going on.

The problem was, I didn’t know where Dario was. He’d disappeared after leaving yesterday. I just needed a phone. I’d been putting it off for so long, but I desperately needed to talk to Luis.

He would know better than anyone else what had happened to Jason. I just didn’t know if involving him would be something I would later regret.

My phone rang next to me, and I reached for it. It was Dario. Speak of the devil…

“Hello.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Why was he calling? Did he want me to yell at him again?

“Are you sure?”

“After being flown across continents, almost being burned alive in a house, and sitting here waiting for you to come back from God knows where, I’m fine, Dario, just dandy.”

He was silent for a long time, and I had to look at the phone to see if he was still there. He was.

Finally, he let out a long sigh and said, “I’ll be home in two minutes. Try not to throw anything else at me.”

He hung up without another word.

Good. I didn’t care , I told myself as I tossed myself on the bed. The locket flew up and smacked me on my chin.

I grabbed it in between my fingers and twisted it, back and forth. I was able to open it but nothing was inside of it, not a picture of my mother, nothing. It was an empty locket, a family heirloom that I sincerely doubted actually was one.

I think my mother just wanted me to have something that I would feel connected to when she was no longer with me. She’d probably gotten it from one of her favorite thrift stores.

I tried not to think of her too much. It was still painful. I’d lost her too soon, and the mistakes I made after she was gone still haunted me today.

It shamed me now that I had let grief color my behavior. For a while, I lost myself. I felt a tear drop down my face. I rolled over and let myself cry for my mother and the life I couldn’t forgive that I’d led after her death.

The drinking. The meaningless sex. The string of bad choices that had led to an overnight stay in jail. I should have gone straight to college. I should have done something great to recognize all that she had sacrificed for me.

How could I have tarnished her memory by being so rash and stupid? I let myself think that my youth had been an excuse, but yet, I’d traveled the same reckless path after losing Jason.

I was being kind by calling myself reckless. I hadn’t been reckless. I’d been on the brink of ruining my life and taking down another person with me.

When I let myself think about it, my anger had disappeared a long time ago. It disappeared when I saw those two little lines that told me that I was going to be a mother. But I held on to my anger because there was comfort in having an emotion that I could control, that I could feed.

It gave me the time to focus on something, on anything, other than the fact that I was seeking revenge at a time when I needed to learn to just breathe again.

I promised myself that for my child, I would be different. I would be better. But first, I needed to talk to Luis.

As promised, Dario walked into the house exactly two minutes later.

He shrugged off his coat, not saying a word to me. I wondered where he’d been. He looked nice. And I could smell a hint of cologne in the air.

My eyes narrowed. Why was he wearing cologne? Who had he gone to meet? Another woman? Not that I cared…right?

“Where were you?” I hadn’t meant those to be the first words out of my mouth but apparently, I was no longer in control of my own thoughts.

He ignored my question. “Are you hungry? I’m sure dinner is ready by now.”

“I need to use a phone.”

“You have a phone.” He walked past me, heading toward the dining room. He moved so smoothly, like a panther hunting prey, quietly and self-assured.

It took me a few moments to catch up with him. When I did, he still didn’t acknowledge me.

I grabbed him by the arm, making him stop short. He turned and looked at me, his expression still unreadable.

“I need a phone that will allow me to call more than just 911 or you.” I took a deep breath. “I need to speak to Luis.”

He didn’t even pretend that he didn’t know who I was referring to. “Why?”

“I want to ask him about Jason. I want to know the truth.”

“And you think Luis will tell you that?”

His green eyes met mine, not looking away. What was there left to say?

“I hope he will.”

He dropped a phone in my hand and walked away.

This cold treatment was starting to bother me, yet he’d given me a phone to call someone who was a cop. He did it without hesitation. What did that mean?

Walking away from Dario, I went back to the bedroom and pulled my laptop closer. I had to search for the number for the station online because I didn’t have it memorized. I thanked my lucky stars for the amount of information one could find online nowadays and made the call.

I told the front desk lady who I wanted to speak with. The phone rang a second time. He picked up immediately. “This is Luis.”

“Luis,” I fought back tears upon hearing his voice. Pregnancy was making me overly emotional. “It’s Mya.”

“Mya! It’s so good to hear from you! I was worried. I’d heard you’d gotten married. I have to admit, I didn’t see that coming.” His voice sounded odd.

Did he know that I had married Dario? My head hurt. Maybe Luis did have reason to judge me. Every day I judged myself for every decision I had made since my mother died. I felt raw inside.

“It was a—surprise—for sure. But Luis, that’s not why I called. I was hoping we could talk about Jason…”

“Of course, what about Jason?”

“Do you know if he was working on any cases? Mafia-related cases?” I bit my lip and waited for him to answer.

“I can’t really say, Mya.”

My heart sank. “So that’s a yes?”

“Where’s this coming from? What’s happening?” His voice was full of concern.

“Nothing, nothing at all. I just have questions, that’s all. I just want closure, I guess.”

He was silent for a long moment and then said. “Listen, I have work to do. Maybe we can meet somewhere to talk about it. Is this your new number?”

I bit my lip. “No, I’m calling from my—uhh—it’s not my phone, but I’ll call you later.”

“Of course, no problem.” He paused and said, “Are you happy?”

“Maybe?” I answered, not even sure myself. I didn’t know how I felt but I couldn’t tell Luis that I was unhappy because I married into a family that only knew violence and bloodshed. What would he think of me?

He didn’t bother to follow up with anything. His silence seemed odd to me.

“Bye, Luis.”

“Mya, Jason was a good guy. The best. Don’t let the di Cecco’s convince you otherwise.”

So, he did know. He hung up soon after that.

Now my mind was full of questions. Why would he think that Dario and his family would bad-mouth Jason? It was a strange statement. It had me really questioning everything that I thought I knew.

“So, what did he tell you?”

I was back in the dining room. Frowning, I sat down hard. What do I tell Dario?

I shrugged, “He didn’t tell me anything.” That was the truth. Wasn’t it? If anything, my exchange with Luis had just confused me more.

“Hmm,” was all he said after that. He was eating dinner, his mind clearly elsewhere. He signaled for one of the staff to bring my dinner out and then abruptly stood up.

“I have someplace I need to be. I’ll be back. Enjoy your dinner.”

He walked away, and I was grateful for some time alone. I needed time to think. What was the truth, and what was the lies?

To me, it seemed clear that Luis was hiding something. It seemed like he wanted to say more but just hadn’t. Was it because he was at work, or was it because he was hesitant to share too much about the characters he and Jason came across in their line of work?

Luis was a detective now. How much did he know about Dario’s family?

When I climbed into bed that night, I had a million questions running through my mind, but not one solid answer. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know who to believe.

I felt like I was playing a cat and mouse game but I couldn’t tell who was the cat and who was the mouse.

“Why’d you give me the phone?” I asked of Dario as I settled into bed and pulled the covers up under my chin.

Even the sheets smelled like him, the hint of his natural scent that I refused to admit did wonders to my sex drive.

Stop thinking about sex , I admonished myself.

He was awake. I knew because I was used to the melody of his breathing by now. I’d almost memorized the sound of it. Not that I had wanted to.

Still, somehow it was calming and made me feel less alone when he was around. I didn’t know when things had changed. I didn’t when his presence had started to calm me instead of alarming me, but it had.

I just didn’t want to admit it.

He was silent for so long that I thought maybe he had fallen asleep after all.

“I gave it to you because you asked.”

“If I asked to walk out of here right now, would you let me?”

He touched my face, startling me, but I didn’t move away. I turned and looked in his direction in the dark. “Is that what you want?”

His question and the gentleness of his touch made me pause. In the dark, I couldn’t see his eyes, but I could feel his hand still touching my face.

I could pull away. But I didn’t.

Then I thought of Dr. Kali. Where was he? What had Dario done to him?

I shifted so that his touch wouldn’t distract me. He moved his hand from my face. Did I hear him sigh in disappointment? I couldn’t be sure.

“If you wanted to leave, there would be no way I could stop you…safely. And I would never jeopardize your safety. Or the baby’s.”

His voice was gentle. There was no doubt in my mind that he cared about his child.

“But keep in mind, it’s not safe out there. I have my enemies…some of them seem to be from within my own organization. I’m still trying to figure out who and why.”

His voice sounded melancholy. That wasn’t an emotion I was used to hearing from him. What had changed? When had he changed?

I figured it was because of the baby…which was good, right? But part of me wanted him to change for me. I wanted to be enough for him…since all my life, I felt I wasn’t enough for anyone.

I laid back down on my pillow and just let myself think, looking into the darkness.

My mother had been a wonderful woman, caring, kind, and strong, but I felt that she’d been lonely. She’d never mentioned it. But there was a time when I was very little, I couldn’t remember what age, and I’d found her looking at a photo.

I asked who it was and she responded that it was my father. Then she neatly tucked it away in a box in the back of a closet and changed the subject.

I knew my mom well enough to know not to ask her about it again. She was known to change the subject whenever she was uncomfortable.

Before the social workers had come to pick me up, I’d gone through her room to collect mementos. I knew I couldn’t carry much, but I needed something to remember her by.

When I reached into her closet, I had thought I was looking for something of hers to bring with me.

But really, I was looking for the box with my father’s picture. I’d found it. Nothing else was in the box. His name wasn’t even listed on my birth certificate.

I thought about trying to find him, but why? What was the purpose? If he wanted to be a part of my life, wouldn’t he have reached out?

Strangely enough, even when I left my apartment and packed my things to move in with Dario, I hadn’t had much to bring with me, but I did take the photo of my father with me. It was in my box of “important papers” that I never opened.

I wondered where that box was now. Did Dario keep it someplace safe, or had he moved it to the island where it had burned? The idea that my only connection to my father might have gone up in smoke didn’t sit well with me.

I hadn’t known him. I didn’t even know if I wanted to know him, that is, if he were still alive, but the thought of losing that one thing I had to remember him by, really hurt.

Sighing, I turned over and told myself that I needed to get some sleep. But I couldn’t help but think of my father at that moment. No matter how loved I was by my mom, I felt that maybe my dad had left her because of me.

Maybe I hadn’t been enough or maybe I’d been too much.

While I rested on my back, I brought my hand up to my growing stomach. I didn’t need to hide it anymore. I thought about whether I should ask Dario to get me some maternity clothes.

I would like that. I was relieved I could acknowledge my child. I wanted my little one to know I loved from the start, and I wanted pictures of me wearing maternity clothes, smiling at the camera, to be a part of my baby’s story.

This was the good part. The part that I could control.

Turning over, I drifted off into a restless sleep, hoping that tomorrow would be better.

The sun shining brightly through the window across our large bed, fit for a king, woke me up the next morning.

I opened one eye and reached for my phone that was sitting on the nightstand, wondering what time it was.

It was already past nine. I didn’t normally sleep in, but I’d been tired. Thoughts of the mother I had lost, the father I’d never known, and the life that grew inside of me had me tossing and turning throughout the night.

I didn’t feel well-rested at all. In fact, I felt sweaty and sticky. I sat up and rested my hand on my belly. I looked down next to me and realized the spot where Dario usually slept was cold. Where had he gone?

I took a long shower, washed my hair, and dressed in a new maternity dress that I found in the closet, along with dozens of other new maternity clothes that were clearly high-end and expensive. I traced my hand over some of the frilly blouses and dresses.

I found myself getting teary-eyed. He’d read my mind it seemed. He did have an uncanny way of knowing what I needed before I could ask. The gesture was kind and unexpected.

I told myself that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It meant the world to me. I wanted to celebrate my pregnancy and child, even if the world I was bringing her into was burning down around me.

Feeling out of sorts and thrown off by Dario’s kindness, I made my way through the austere home we were living in and toward the dining room area for breakfast. I didn’t feel like eating, but that didn’t mean the baby didn’t need food.

I went to sit down when I saw a manila envelope next to my place setting. The envelope was similar to the envelopes I’d seen on the yacht.

It looked old. I frowned. What was this? I opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

Scanning it quickly, my hand began to shake. It was a letter addressed to Dario, written by Jason.