My Mafia Husband Chose My Sister, So I Chose My Lost Love novel · Chapter 2 of 32

Chapter 2: The Leash

Annalisa confronts Renato at breakfast in front of Gia, and he admits he kept Sandro watched for ten years as a threat.

I didn't sleep.

At five I printed the photo on the study printer and folded it once.

At seven I went down to breakfast in the black dress I wore to funerals.

The dining room smelled like espresso and orange peel.

Renato was at the head of the table with the paper.

Gia was on his right, in my chair, in a silk robe I knew. It was mine.

The housekeeper was setting a plate of eggs in front of her.

"Signora," the housekeeper said to me, and then stopped, because she didn't know which of us she meant anymore.

Gia smiled at me over her juice.

"I hope you don't mind about the robe. My bags are still packed. It was hanging in the bathroom."

"Keep it," I said. "It never fit right."

I didn't sit.

I walked to Renato's end of the table and laid the photo flat on top of his newspaper.

The boatyard. The gray water. The man in the work jacket.

Renato looked at it for a long moment.

He didn't look surprised.

He was cool, but watchful.

"Who's that?" Gia asked, leaning over.

"Sandro Ferlito," I said. "The boy I was going to marry. Your husband's family told me he drowned off India Point. You were thirteen. You came to the memorial in a yellow dress."

Gia's spoon stopped halfway to her mouth.

Renato folded the newspaper over the photo, neatly.

"Sit down, Annalisa."

"Is he alive?"

"You're holding a picture from last Tuesday. You tell me."

"Did you know?"

He took a sip of his coffee.

"Since the first week."

The housekeeper set the coffee pot down too hard. Nobody looked at her.

"He saw something on my father's dock that he shouldn't have seen," Renato said. "He ran to the government like a schoolboy. They hid him. They gave him a new name and a new state."

"And you found him."

"It took six months and a lot of money." He smiled a little. "Your money, mostly. You've been paying the man in Bangor every quarter. You're very punctual."

My hands went cold.

Six thousand dollars, forty times.

I had written every one of those checks.

"Why?" I said. "Your father died eight years ago. The case died with him. Sandro can't hurt you."

"Sandro was never the point."

Renato stood up.

He was a head taller than me and he liked to use it.

"A widow who's still grieving doesn't run off with the pool man. A widow who finds out her boy is alive might. So I kept him where I could see him. In case you ever got ideas."

"A leash," I said.

"Insurance."

Gia had gone pale under her makeup.

"Renato," she said. "You said she was the one who didn't want kids."

He didn't even turn his head.

"Eat your eggs, Gia."

She looked down at her plate.

I saw her hand creep back to her stomach.

I turned to my husband.

"I meant what I said last night. I want a divorce."

"I heard you."

"I'll hire my own lawyer. I'll take my father's name back."

"With what money? Every dollar you've touched in ten years came through my accounts."

"I know exactly how it came through your accounts, Renato. I put it there."

That landed.

I saw it in the small muscle at the corner of his jaw.

He came around the table.

He didn't touch me. Renato never had to touch anybody.

He leaned down close to my ear, close enough that I could smell the cologne I used to buy him for Christmas.

"Let me tell you how this goes," he said quietly. "My man in Bangor drives past that boatyard every Tuesday. He takes a picture. He sends it to me. He's been doing it for ten years, and he's very reliable."

"Don't."

"I haven't done anything. I've been generous. Your boy builds his little boats. He has a dog. He drinks at a bar on the harbor on Fridays. He's had a very nice life, because you've been a very good wife."

He straightened up and fixed his cuff.

The gold signet ring caught the light.

"Go upstairs. Change out of that dress. Today Gia starts running the house, and you're going to show her how."

"I'm not her maid."

"No," he said. "You're my wife. For now, that's worse."

He picked up his coffee and walked to the door.

The driver was waiting there with his coat, the way he always was.

Renato let the driver help him into it.

Then he looked back at me, standing next to my own chair with my sister in it.

"One more thing, so we understand each other," he said.

He said it pleasantly, in front of the housekeeper and the driver and my sister.

"Walk out that gate, and the next photo is of his body."

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