Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 64176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“What kind of trouble?”
“Some of his investments didn’t pan out.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He lost a lot of money. Lost us a lot of money. Almost lost the house on Staten Island. And to save the foundation, he did some things I wasn’t quite comfortable with.”
The Valentina Foundation is my family’s foundation. It’s a charitable organization responsible for many programs in the city and beyond. Politicians praise it, and I still remember the connections my dad had. Even as a child, I knew it was a big deal. And as far as money, we always had it. It’s how I grew up both at home and here with my uncle. Old money. We had a comfortable life. It was normal for me.
“That’s what…” He pauses, shakes his head and drinks his whiskey, then pours another. “As your godfather, it was natural that I’d become your guardian. And I’ve raised you well. You never lacked for anything.”
I don’t have a chance to tell him it’s not all about what you have before he continues.
“Your father’s decisions left us all vulnerable. Left me and my family exposed to some very bad people. Between that and my divorce, well…” He draws a deep breath. “I did what I had to do.”
Dread creeps up into my throat, making it hard to swallow. “What was that?” I croak.
“I couldn’t lose my kids.”
I remember the bitter divorce, remember my aunt’s surprise and despair when my uncle was awarded sole custody of Liam and Simona in an abrupt change of events. And I begin to put two and two together.
“What did you do to keep them?”
He takes a long time to say anything, but he doesn’t quite answer me. “All of this, everything, it was all to ensure you grew up well.”
“What?”
“To ensure you studied and had nice things and lived comfortably.”
“I don’t understand. The money…it came from my dad.”
“Your dad dealt with some very dangerous men, Cristina. As dangerous as the Di Santo family. I hope you understand I had no choice—”
“But I don’t understand.” He sacrificed me? “You redid the apartment for me? You bought the best furniture and clothes for me? Or was it for you?”
He exhales an audible breath.
“I never cared about any of that. I’d lost my family. All of them. You were all I had left. You and Liam and Simona. That’s what I cared about.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
“I’d have lost even the apartment we live in.”
“So, you let them buy you?”
He has the decency to lower his gaze, at least momentarily. “I can’t stop this, Cristina.”
I shake my head. “What do you mean?” I stand, setting the ridiculous contract on his desk. “There’s an inheritance. We won’t need Di Santo money if that’s what this is still about. When I turn eighteen, the foundation and—”
“The foundation is a front.”
“What?”
He shifts his gaze. “Your father’s dealings weren’t always on the up-and-up. The men he took donations from had their own agendas.”
“What does that mean?”
“It was legitimate once, back when our grandfather was alive. Funding good causes, doing good things.”
“We still do.”
“Over the last years of your father’s life, it evolved. Became a tool for some very powerful, very bad men.” He drinks more whiskey, then takes a deep breath in. “Damian Di Santo took over management of the foundation after your father’s death.”
“That’s not true. It can’t be. It was you and Mr. Maher.” Mr. Maher is our family attorney. “That’s how the will reads. You’d manage it on my behalf until I turned eighteen.”
He shakes his head. “I’m telling you he managed it.”
“So you let him take over the foundation? Let him corrupt it?”
“Your father had already corrupted it,” he snaps, then runs a hand through his hair and won’t look at me. “Shit.” He drinks some more. “You’re young. Naïve. I don’t expect you to understand but it came to a point where it was dangerous for me, for my family.”
Why am I feeling like he’s hiding behind this? Like this is a cop-out?
He shakes his head, takes a deep breath in.
I can’t belong to Damian Di Santo. That doesn’t make any sense.
“You can’t let them take me. You can’t—”
“They took Simona this afternoon.”
His words stop me dead.
“Just took her right from school. Damian’s sister, Michela, picked her up and apparently took her out for ice cream. Took her somewhere to play with her son. Eventually, though, she got scared, and they brought her home. And I think that’s exactly what they wanted.”
“My God.” That’s why she’d been crying. “She must have been terrified. She’s just a little girl.” I remember the night I heard my father say those same words to the stranger in the study. Damian’s father, I guess. “Did they hurt her?”
“No. That wasn’t the plan. It was to show us the extent of their power. Their reach. The Di Santo family has always been untouchable, Cristina. There was a decline after the accident. Then Benedict had that stroke and I thought that would be that, that it was over. But Damian, he’s taken the reins, and they are more powerful than ever. I guess Damian is carrying out his father’s vendetta. Or maybe it’s his own vendetta. He lost his family too, after all.”