More lies. More secrets. Dammit, when would they ever end?
His gazed remained unwavering, fixed on Rosa. “So let me get this straight,” he said calmly—almost too calmly. “Instead of one simple phone call, both of us ended up racing all over town thinking it was some kind of conspiracy theory?”
“You are such an ass, Luke.”
Luke whipped around to face Marco’s bristling anger. “You’ve been ignoring our calls,” he continued tightly. “And then Gino’s PR guy advised us to lay low for a few weeks but that obviously didn’t cross your mind after you were spotted—”
“Boys, please …” Rosa interrupted, her expression torn with concern. “No fighting.”
Luke sprang to his feet and began to pace.
Rosa glanced helplessly at Beth, then back to Luke. “I know you are pazzo at me, Lucio—”
Angry? If only it were that clear. But Marco was right. Damn guilt got him every single time.
When he finally turned to face his aunt, the soft love mingled with abject worry on her familiar features hit him like a runaway train.
Rosa had tried to be a mother to him, but he’d rebuffed her time and again. Oh, there’d been times when he’d allowed small intimacies—a hug on his birthday, a kiss at Christmas. She’d also mediated the blazing fights between him and Marco and had encouraged him in his studies.
And remained loyal when the reporters had come clamoring for a quote.
He knew she would never deliberately hurt him, just as he had total faith in the honor code he lived by.
The power of that thought stole away his accusations, turning them to dust on his tongue. With a barely audible groan, he sank to the couch and rubbed his temples.
“You know how hard I’ve worked to get where I am, Rosa.” He glanced up, frustration clouding his voice. “How I’ve fought for every promotion, made sure I was beyond reproach, because of Gino’s reputation. So why did he drag me into this?”
“Lucio. He did not do this to hurt you,” came Rosa’s soft declaration. “Things have been so crazy around here and I completely forgot about the rental, Gino’s bequest to you.
“He had always planned to give it to you,” she continued. “It was the house he originally offered your parents when they first came to Australia. Your father turned us down flat.”
Luke’s gut twisted at the barely hidden grief. The woman had lost her husband, the man she’d loved for over forty years and here he was getting all worked up about a bunch of misunderstandings.
Death had a way of putting everything into perspective.
Rosa’s dark eyes, creased with years of life and love, now holding only concern and worry, humbled him. He flushed. She wasn’t to blame for the inquiry, or the way the press had focused so thoroughly on him.
“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Rosa went to Beth and took her hands. “You must have been so confused, thinking you’d been kicked out onto the street.” Just as Beth opened her mouth, Rosa added, “I would never do anything to hurt you, Beth. You know that. Don’t you?”
As Beth sat there, staring into the earnest woman’s big brown eyes, she remembered the moments they’d shared—the laughter, the little gifts on her birthday, the snippets of life advice Rosa had offered. Beth had liked talking to her, had liked her.
“You warm this old Italian woman’s heart, Beth,” Rosa continued. “You, bella. You’re smart. You’re good here—” she put a hand on one expansive bosom “—you deserve to have someone look after you.”
Beth gently extricated herself. “You lied to me, Rosa.”
“And what would you have me do, eh?” Rosa’s brows shot up. “Sit back and watch you struggle every day? Pah!” She snapped her fingers. “You’d never take money from me, so I did the only thing I could.”
“After all this time why didn’t you say something?”
Rosa shook her head. “I was going to. But you were so happy to finally have a place of your own, and I know how you feel about lying. What if you’d never speak to me again?”
But my lease is up in three months, she was about to say. I will be out on the street. But the look on Rosa’s face had her choking back the words. Her issue was with Luke, not Rosa, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to add to the woman’s already heavy guilt.
Suddenly, Beth’s heart wasn’t in it. She sighed and glanced up at Luke, who had remained oddly silent.
Rosa straightened and turned back to Luke. “Lucio, I know Gino had his faults and you and he never really got along. But he was so very proud of you. As am I.” She blinked as her eyes began to tear.
“Rosa …”
“No.” She put up a silencing finger, “Your uncle was a proud man and those terrible accusations hit him hard, but he understood what you had to do. He loved you so much.” She grasped his hand and squeezed, a bittersweet smile hovering on her lips before she pulled a key from her pocket. “He left you something in his desk drawer. Please, go take a look.”
Luke closed the office door firmly behind him and scanned the room. Everything was still in its place, from the large antique desk to the rows of books lining the walls. The faint aroma of expensive cigars and brandy still lingered on the air. He almost expected Gino to be sitting behind that desk, puffing quietly away. Instead, the empty chair matched the hole in his heart.
Quickly, he shoved the key in the desk drawer and unlocked it. The white envelope was addressed to him and the contents yielded a DVD.
A frown furrowing his brow, Luke slowly closed the drawer, went over to the DVD player that sat in the bookcase, shoved in the disc then picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.
He took a seat behind the imposing desk, his finger hovering over the play button.
A clean blotter sat square in the middle, a fountain pen perfectly one inch from the top. Luke picked up the pen and twirled it idly in his hand, a small smile hovering on his lips. Gino was old school, preferring fountain pen and ink for all his correspondence.
Luke replaced the pen, screwed up his eyes and pinched his nose high on the bridge.
Gino’s desk at Aphrodite’s was identical—same layout, same pens. Same scent of leather, polished wood and cigar smoke.
Every little thing was determined to remind him of that night, even while he’d been trying to forget it. Like a convicted man accepting his fate, he let the memories flood in.
The board had expressed their displeasure earlier that day and Luke had been in a white-hot fury. Regardless of the warnings issued to keep his distance from Gino, he’d stormed into the casino spoiling for a fight. Security had wisely kept out of his way, and frustrated as all hell, he’d slammed into Gino’s office.
Luke grunted, remembrance flooding in like waters over a burst dam, too late to stop it.
Those sharp accusations he’d flung at Gino had been like a red rag to a bull, and his uncle had never been one to turn down a fight.
“Dammit all to hell, Gino! Are you using the casino as a money-laundering front?”
Gino shot to his feet, his face flushed. “No! You of all people should know that!”
“Should I?” Luke’s eyes narrowed. “I heard the evidence is before the Director of Public Prosecutions. And if he thinks that’s enough for a trial then there’s probably enough to convict.”
“I know the