Blood Always

29

The arching faux night sky was lit for dusk and swarms of visitors crowded the busy Venetian corridors. People-watching in Vegas was unparalleled, and the gondola provided the perfect viewing opportunity. Women shopped in their swimsuits, as if strutting in public in your underwear was acceptable just because it was Vegas. Men of all ages ogled said women. Young people, who had started their festivities far earlier in the day, were already stumbling precariously close to the water’s edge. Old people sneered at the loud partygoers, likely wondering why on earth they’d come to such an obnoxious, smoke-filled den of debauchery. Vegas was pure magic, and I loved every bit of it. As I watched the crowds, my eyes landed on a familiar profile—a man crossing one of the pedestrian bridges arching over the canal. He was older, early sixties, but fit and moving with purpose, rather than the leisurely stroll utilized by the crowd around him. An eerie familiarity had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. It couldn’t be, could it? What were the chances I’d run into Sal thousands of miles from home? Infinitesimal. Preposterous. And yet, my muscles coiled in response to what my mind could hardly fathom. A slight turn of his head was all it took for the truth to set in. It was him. Sal Amato was there, fifty feet from me, in the Venetian hotel. Attempting not to draw attention to myself, I casually turned back to the gondolier. “I need to get off the boat.” I spoke quietly but firmly, an icy chill to my voice. The man looked down in surprise, his brow narrowing as he registered my severe expression. “There’s another dock just after the bridge.” “No. I need to get off now. Pull the f*****g boat over,” I hissed, starting to lose my cool as I pointed to the walkway where Sal had disappeared into the crowd. Alessia’s hand grasped my arm. “Maria, what’s going on?” she whispered forcefully, not understanding why I was making a scene. “What’s going on is Sal is getting away because this asshole won’t pull over the goddamn boat!” Her eyes rounded, then darted to the crowd while her skin drained of its rich olive coloring. Between my verbal assault and Alessia’s fear-filled visceral reaction, our tour guide finally maneuvered the boat toward the canal wall. The second it was within reach, I leapt to the edge and tore off in the direction I’d last seen Sal. My eyes desperately scanned for the light blue dress shirt he’d been wearing. He couldn’t be far. Surely, after weeks of searching, fate wouldn’t have thrown me this bone just to steal it away. Who was I kidding? Fate, God—whatever you wanted to call her—was absolutely that cruel. Sometimes indifferent and fickle but rarely reliable or just. There was no buying her favor and no sparing the innocent. If there was a supreme being in this universe, I found no rhyme or reason to her actions, and today only furthered that conclusion. People began to openly stare at me as my growing desperation showed in my frantic attempts to locate the man who had betrayed my family—left my sisters for dead and had stabbed my father in the back, if not physically, then in every other sense of the phrase. Sal needed to pay for his sins, and penance would not come cheap. His list of transgressions was longer than my own, and that was saying something. But like spotting a single flurry in a shower of snow, one glance away, and the man was gone. My steps slowed, and I pulled out my phone with hands jittery from a surge of adrenaline. I dialed my father’s number, relieved when he answered after a single ring. “Maria?” “I just spotted Sal at the Venetian hotel. I tried to catch up with him but wasn’t able to get to him in time before he disappeared.” “Did he see you?” “No, I don’t think so. He seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere.” A long exhalation sounded across the line. “This is good. At least we know where he’s gone. And if he didn’t see you, he won’t be expecting us. I’ll send a crew down immediately, and we’ll start reaching out to local contacts.” “I can stay here. I don’t have to come back with the girls,” I offered readily. Aside from my natural desire to catch the man who had hurt my family, I also felt some ownership in corralling him when I’d been the one to stumble upon his location. “No,” he countered quickly. “You have a wedding to prepare for in a week. I want you back here.” “There’s nothing I need to do before the wedding—Mom’s handling everything.” Going back to talk about flowers and seating charts felt like a colossal waste of my time when something so important was happening thousands of miles away. My father’s voice morphed from polished satin to deadly dagger. “Surely, I don’t need to remind you how crucial this wedding will be? This union will affect hundreds of lives, not just your own. We need you to be here, head in the game, and ready to play your part. Sal is just a pebble in my shoe compared to the mountain that is your wedding. It may feel minor in comparison to the action and excitement of Sal’s capture, but the intricacies of a strategic alliance are far more challenging and important. Do you understand?” I smothered my own protests, knowing he was right. Sal’s proximity and likely capture was an alluring prospect, but he wasn’t the only matter of business on our agenda. “You’re right, I know. I just hate knowing he’s so close and not going after him.” My eyes continued to scan the area, unwilling to accept that he was gone. “Get your sisters and yourself home safe; that’s more important than anything.” “All right, we’ll see you back home tomorrow.” I hung up without waiting for a reply, my mind a mix of emotions. Sal was within our reach, and my soon-to-be husband would be waiting for me back home.