The Don Let My Son Fall to Save His Mistress

Chapter 3

I lifted my eyes and looked at him.

"Take the recipe to a doctor. They'll tell you whether it's poison."

I paused.

"Or do you not actually care about the truth? Do you just need someone to punish? Then punish me. I'll take it."

I knew the pattern by now.

Sofia had pulled this before. She'd throw herself down a flight of stairs and say I pushed her. Burn her own hand at the stove and say my cooking did it. Over and over.

I used to wonder how Lorenzo could be so blind. Now I understood.

He wasn't blind. He just wanted a punching bag. And I was the only one he had left.

These days I didn't even bother getting angry. I was past feeling anything. Even his suspicion couldn't reach me.

It ate at Lorenzo, seeing me like that.

"Don't talk that way. Tell me your side. I'm your husband, not your enemy."

I closed my eyes. "There's nothing to tell."

His throat worked. "What's that supposed to mean? Nothing to tell me?"

I stopped answering. I shut him out. My eyes, my ears, all of me. Lorenzo was on the outside of it.

Something in him started to come apart. I watched the panic cross his face. He felt like he was losing me, like the ground was going out from under him.

He needed to do something. Say something. Grab hold of anything.

"I'll take you to Marcello's vigil tomorrow," he said suddenly. "The anniversary."

My body went rigid. But I didn't open my eyes.

The nurse appeared again. "Don, Sofia's out of danger. They pumped her stomach. But she's frightened. She keeps calling your name—"

"I'm coming." Lorenzo's voice was flat.

He looked at me one last time. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we'll go home. We'll say goodbye to Marcello together."

The night went on forever. I didn't sleep. I lay there with my eyes open.

After tomorrow came the burial. My son. The one I carried for nine months. The one I brought into the world. Tomorrow they would reduce him to ash, seal him in a jar, and put him down under the cold ground.

The next day Lorenzo came and drove me back to the De Luca estate.

The mansion hung with black. The staff were in mourning. In the chapel, people were weeping. Some of it was real. Some of it was for show. None of it cut the way mine did.

I made my way in on my crutches. All I wanted was to see my son one last time.

The second my foot crossed the threshold, Carlotta De Luca came at me.

"You... You've got the nerve to show your face here?"

Carlotta slapped me. Twice. Then she got a fist in my hair and started laying into me.

"You killed my grandson. You knew Marcello couldn't swim, and you took him out to the cliffs anyway. You did it on purpose."

I froze.

It was Sofia who took Marcello to the cliffs. Sofia who put him in danger. So why was Carlotta throwing this at me?

I looked at Lorenzo.

Lorenzo looked away.

More of them swarmed me. They came at me with sticks. They threw bottles.

"Kill the murderer! She killed her own boy!"

"Get out of here! You've got no business at Marcello's funeral!"