Chapter Four

A vicious man is almost always afraid of something.                             ~writingRo~                                       Ele My schedule remained the same. Nothing changed in case Freddie or his men noticed something out of the ordinary. But every day that passed, I began to worry that Luciano might not have gotten my note. That was the only chance I had; if I had missed it, I might as well start to prepare Luca for a life with Freddie. A week passed, another Sunday came and went, yet nothing happened. I let out a sigh and then screeched in pain when I pumped my kneel on the kitchen table. Luca came running towards me when he heard the screech, his green eyes filled with fear, and I knew he thought Freddie was beating me. "I'm okay, " I assured him," just hit my kneel against this" I pointed at the table, and he moved his eyes to intently stare at it as if he was contemplating hitting it back. I chuckled, limping to sit on the chair he had dragged for me. "I love you, Luca, you know that, don't you?" He nodded, and I could feel tears shimmering in my eyes as I combed my fingers through his hair, then pulled his head under my chin, my arms around his small body, his warm breath touching my neck. Oh, Luciano, please come for us. I thought as I kissed Luca's cheek, releasing him from my embrace, albeit reluctantly. Luca had become very protective of me, and while that would have made me proud in normal circumstances, it made me sad. He thought, in his own way, that it was his job to keep me safe. It probably stemmed from Freddie berating him by calling him a coward. I wanted him to have a normal childhood, to ask for ice cream, throw a tantrum once in a while, run around building things normal growing boys make or be destructive while he was at it like he should. While we stood in each other's space, Massimo budged into the kitchen, his eyes landing on my face and then at Luca with some kind of contempt which I did not understand and had never seen before. Luca flinched but did not huddle to me for protection. He was learning to be independent, and soon enough, he might start trying to fight his battles as well as mine. "He wants to see you, " Massimo pronounced, standing beside me with his legs slightly apart. Suddenly, I panicked, thinking he might have found out about the note. Massimo walked in front of me slowly so I could keep his pace. He was considerate though we rarely talked. Freddie had given his men a warning when he married me. None of them had befriended me; it was against the rules. But I later realized that I preferred it that way. When we got to the door, he threw an inquiring look at me, which was his way of asking whether I was ready to face Freddie. I wanted to say I have never been ready, I will never be prepared to face him, but it was required, so I nodded, twitching my fingers nervously. When we entered, Freddie was seated in front of the window, his suit jacket hanging loosely on his right shoulder. He looked small from the back, lonesome; I almost felt sorry for him. I stood in that position for a while, afraid to move or breathe audibly in case it pissed him off. He didn't speak for a long time, so long, my feet started cramping, yet I did not move or make a sound. I knew he was looking for a reason to hit me or insult me, and I would be damned if I would voluntarily give him one. He cleared his throat, turning his chair to look at me. His eyes were red, his face ragged from lack of sleep, his shoes muddy as if he'd dipped his feet in the mud. He looked lost, disoriented like he didn't know or recognize his surroundings. With his eyes unblinkingly on me, he placed a fist under his chin, as if he was testing the weight of it. I felt a spasm run through my stomach as I feared the worst because his eyes held a glimmer of viciousness. "Are you avoiding me?" I started to shake my head, but then I remembered he liked to hear me speak, or at least that is what he often said. "No, I'm not, " I responded, my eyes on his chest instead of his face. My skin pricked as he rose from the chair, taking a few steps to where I stood. I could see the wrinkles under his eyes, the red rashes that covered his cheeks. He smelled as he always did, sweaty and leaking of alcohol and tobacco. "Then why haven't I seen you?" I wanted to narrow my eyes in annoyance, but I didn't; I did not have the privilege to do something like that, so I did what I always did, try to reason with him and boost his ego. What did he mean by that? I was told he'd ordered to be left one, and I told him so. "Massimo told me you were to be left alone because you were working on something important," I said in a trembling voice. He smiled, showing his discolored teeth. I jerked inwardly in disgust, hating him even more than I already did. I wasn't sure it was possible, but apparently, it was. "Sit, " he motioned me to sit on a chair in front of him. I sat down slowly, fighting the urge to sign in relief at how good it felt to rest my feet. We sat in silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. I knew Freddie didn't know about the note because if he had, I would have already been beaten to the point of death. "You know my father is missing, right?" Freddie asked, and I jerked upright in surprise that he would talk to me about something like that. According to Freddie, a wife was to be seen and not heard. Her opinion did not matter, and she shouldn't have any, to begin with. "Yes, " I managed to say, nervously tugging at the edge of my dress. "The board of directors wants him dismissed because of his absence, and I need you to speak to your father." I honestly didn't know what to say, wasn't my father supposed to be on his side? Wasn't that the reason I got sold of? To unify the two families? "My father hasn't spoken to me in almost ten years, " I reminded him, twiddling with my fingers as I waited for his outburst. But it did not come; he was looking at me intensely as if he was trying to read my mind. "Why," He knew why. "Im not sure, " I lied, but we both knew I lied, and in so doing, I committed the sin of lying to him. "You never forgave him for marrying you off to me, did you, Ele?" I hated it when he called me that; I had told him countless times when I was younger,  long before I became his wife, before knowing my father was serious about selling me off to the Renzi family.  There was only one person allowed to call me that. It was his nickname for me. "You hated me from the beginning, " he snickered, running his fingers through his matted hair. His anger was building up; I could feel it by how his voice rose to a degree. "You preferred him" We both knew who he was referring to. "But I got you—he lost, I won."  How could a grown man still feel he won against a nine-year-old he wasn't sure was alive or dead? But I couldn't help but think of that statement. I realized that maybe Freddie never wanted me for himself; he just wanted to feel like he had finally gotten something that belonged to his brother—his younger brother. I had been five years old when I preferred Luciano; he had been my friend; why would Freddie use me as if I was one of the pieces on a chessboard game. He huffed, rubbing his face with his right hand and then wiping it off against his trousers. I wondered what he was thinking about. I didn't know much about Freddie, not even the basics like his birthday or his middle name if he had any. I never bothered to ask; to be honest, I didn't care. My life felt as if it wasn't mine anymore the day I married him. That sunny Saturday afternoon when I lost everything I had, including my family. Freddie was right; I never forgave my father for it.  But I had the hardest time forgiving my mother. When I finally did, I realized she had no power over her husband any more than I had with Freddie. It was a bitter pill to swallow, yet I found peace in it. That didn't mean I had granted absolution for her part in it; she was my mother; I believed she should have given me a way out. Of course that was unfair to her; I knew that, but I couldn't help how I felt. "You know, sometimes I watch you with this pathetic faraway look filled with longing," he mocked, letting out a laugh that was devoid of humor. "What is it that you're longing for, Ele? Umh?" Freedom, I wanted to say, but I remained silent. "My father never said it, but I think he preferred him too," this was said in a small voice; he sounded like a little boy who still needed his father's affirmation. "I always thought he preferred you, " I murmured, throwing my eyes at his for a second before lowering them to look at my hands resting on my lap. We stayed like that in silence. This was new territory for me, I had never had such a conversation with Freddie. I was afraid of committing a faux pas. I didn't know the rules for this kind of talk. "No, he didn't; I think he wishes I was the one who left instead of him, " he mumbled, getting up from the chair to sit on top of his desk; I caught the whiff of his body odor when he got up. I cleared my throat to fill in the silence because I didn't know what to say next. What the hell was happening? Was I expected to be his shrink? If I were, I would start by telling him he never called him by name. It was as if he was afraid he might appear in front of him if he did. "If I sit and watch them oust him, I'm afraid of what he might do when he comes back," he said jumping from the desk to stand by the window. A vicious man is almost always afraid of something; in his case, Freddie was terrified of his father. Whether I wanted to talk to my father or not, Freddie did not care as long as he got the chance to save his father's position, however slim the chance might be. "When and where do you need me to talk to him?" I asked dutifully as was expected. "He has been telling me he would like to see Luca, take him with you, he might not do it for either of us, but he might do it for his grandchild." I doubt that, I thought, nodding while looking at him—my father wasn't the type to be selfless. "Okay. When?" He rubbed his forehead continuously like he was peeling off unwanted skin and then turned his eyes to my face." " I will arrange it," he finally said, returning to his chair. Although Freddie was restless by nature, he looked nervous now or afraid. Something was troubling him. I wanted to ask why he had denied my father the chance to see Luca by now, but I did not; instead, I averted my eyes and waited to be dismissed. But the next question surprised me as much as this conversation had. "Do you ever think Luciano might be alive?" it was the first time he'd said his name out loud in a long time. It would take much more than what happened to completely destroy Luciano. That is what I wanted to say. Instead, I said:  "It would be a miracle if he is."