Why would he want to call you? All you do is make him feel like crap.
Despite himself, Luke’s cheeks flushed pink. “What do you think all these visits from my cousins are for? Do you think they’re doing it out of the kindness of their hearts?”
I wanted to kick Luke’s leg. Why is he antagonizing him? He gave a hollow laugh as his father’s face purpled. I clenched my hands into fists and watched the volley of insults back and forth like a tennis match. This couldn’t be going any worse.
“At least they don’t treat me like a checkbook,” he spat. “Do you think I can’t see through you and that bitch standing over there?”
My leg twitched and I glanced at Luke’s white face. Shit. It was too late; Giacomo had noticed the exchange and his eyes narrowed.
“Dad—apologize now,” he said through his teeth.
“Or what?” He grinned maniacally, knowing full well that he alone held all the power, that his son could do nothing. “You’re pathetic. I knew from the second I saw those tabloid photos that this was a fraud.”
Oh, shit. It was all unraveling. I turned to Luke desperately in a voice that I hoped was innocent. “What’s he talking about?”
Giacomo gave me a nasty look. “So, how much is he paying you? I don’t think he ever paid any of the whores he left with in those clubs.”
“Shut the hell up!” Luke’s head looked like it was going to explode.
His father looked slightly startled at his son’s outburst. “You’ll never get what you want from me. I won’t allow it!”
I wanted to bend over and throw up on the pristine floor. His whole body trembled as he stood over the bed. I sprang forward, convinced that he was going to reach over and strangle his father.
“Go to hell, dad.”
He spoke with such quiet venom that I flinched, afraid of the poison infecting his voice. I turned around as Luke stormed out of the room, indifferent to his father’s yells and my pleas.
When the door swung shut, I slowly wheeled back to him, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. “What’s wrong with you?”
He pushed himself up on his pillows, giving me a look of justified anger. “I know what you’re both doing. What, am I supposed to be pleased that my son is trying to scam me with a hooker?”
He was a bully, but he was still nothing compared to the abuse I had experienced. Giacomo Pardini was child’s play. I kept my face neutral, refusing to allow his insults to harm me.
“I love your son.” As I said it, I felt my face grow hot. I hadn’t meant to say that—it just came out. There was a ringing in my ears and I licked my dry lips. Giacomo’s face was stony, but I forced myself to continue. “I fell in love with him because he’s the only one who really understands me. He gets it.”
He eyed me beadily and his voice rose with contempt. “Are you really that stupid? He may have convinced you otherwise, but you’re just another broad for him to fool around with. What the hell does a middle class woman from suburbia have in common with my son?”
I thought that rich people were supposed to be sophisticated. His barbs sunk deep inside my flesh, stinging me. “We met in a support group for children with parents like you.”
I was pleased to see that Giacomo flinched, as though my words had truly hurt him. “Do you know what Luke thinks about you? He thinks you’re trying to make him commit suicide, like you did with his mother. Now, you’re trying to bully me because treating people like shit takes the edge off of hating yourself. You make me sick—”
Suddenly, his eyes went wide and he grabbed the edge of his hospital bed, looking like he wanted to climb out of it so that he could kill me. “You shut your mouth about things you don’t understand.” He clenched his teeth and his thin arms trembled with the energy of keeping himself upright.
I caught him by surprise at the mention of his dead wife and his voice cracked with emotion. I wasn’t quite feeling guilty, but he had definitely knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t look away from the electricity rimming his eyes.
For a moment his face purpled as though he wanted to scream, and then the words burst from his mouth as though he had been dying to say them for years. “I did everything I could for that woman. I paid for therapists and psychiatrists and all of that bullshit—Luke never knew. I hid it from him. Don’t you dare accuse me of trying to harm my own wife. I loved her. She wanted to die and there was nothing I could do to fix it.”
Was this true? Was this a manipulation or did Luke really have the wrong side of the story? My heart thudded against my chest. “What about when you sent him away after his mother’s death to live with strangers? I suppose you did that to protect him?”
He looked at me beadily. “You’re damn right, it was. Do you think I wanted him around my vulture in-laws? I didn’t want him to witness all of the fighting over the money and the disgusting lawsuits filed against me. When she died, their cash flow ended, and they weren’t happy.” Giacomo sunk into his pillows, looking very much like a tired, old man. “I just wanted him to grow up away from all this madness. I wanted him to be normal, but he turned out to be just like the rest of them.”
What followed Giacomo’s voice was a ringing silence. I stood shock-still, unable to believe what I was hearing. I hated him before I even met him, and yet he said things that made me question what Luke told me. I couldn’t reconcile my strong dislike and the pity I felt for a man whose family fell apart.
“He didn’t turn out like the rest of them. You damaged him. What he needed was his father, not to be sent over the ocean to a strange place while he grieved for his dead mother.”
He sat up again with renewed vigor, spittle drizzling his chin as he screamed at me. “Everything I did was for my son—everything! You don’t know what it’s like to watch your own brother and your son fight over your corpse like dogs!”
I refused to relent the attack, though Giacomo’s words had bothered me more than I would admit. “Instead of telling your son that you’re doing what’s best for him, you belittle him every chance you get. Why?”
Giacomo’s fist smashed into bed. “Because he needs to grow up! He needs to treat me like a person, not a goddamn bank account.”
“You’re going to die alone,” I shouted at him, hardly believing I could say something so horrible. “You will die alone if you don’t mend things with your son.”