Mafia Legacy

Chapter Thirty Five-Luca

"Do you want to come with me?" I folded my arms across my chest as I leaned back on the kitchen counter.

Charlotte sat at the island, sipping on a cup of coffee after we'd sent the kids off to school. They had put the full court press on to stay home and hang out with me, but I was going to be occupied today.

Char glanced up at me, a look of disbelief in her eyes. "To see Carlo? This feels like a trick question."

"It's not." I chuckled. "He did this to you, too. He snuck into our house with God only knows what kind of plan and he nearly killed you and Marco. I thought you might want to hear what he has to say."

Charlotte purses her lips, unsure of what to say. It wasn't often I included her in this type of thing, and honestly, if it wasn't Carlo, I probably wouldn't be. The deceit was different from Carlo. It felt raw and personal, and I knew we were all going to be affected by it in different ways. I wanted Char to get that closure, too.

"And I could use a little support." I added. That was also why I wanted her to come along. I do wasn't sure how I was going to approach this. I wanted to hear good reasoning, but did that really make any difference? It didn't change what he'd done, and I was going to be forced to handle it swiftly. Eyes of our enemies were on us, and if I let someone close to me get away with betrayal like this, it would be open season for anyone who has an issue with us.

Char gave me a sympathetic smile and reached for my hand. "Of course I will. Are you having Angelo and Marco come?"

I nodded. "They'll be here in 20 minutes. I wanted Marco to rest, but he insisted. And I guess he has as much of a bone to pick as anyone. I can't believe Carlo actually shot him."

"Me either." Char hadn't wanted to talk much about the details of that night, and I couldn't really blame her. She'd come home to blood all over the kitchen, our children hiding in the staircase, and Marco shot in the living room. It was a lot, and I was trying to let her process it in her own time.

"Did he say much to you?" I asked.

Char shrugged. "Not really. Just that he couldn't take the pressure of living up to you. He said he got himself in a mess and the only way out was to help the police frame you. And he kept saying he was sorry."

That was the worst part of all of this. I knew he was. Carlo was suffering, and he was in a terrible head space. I could sympathize with that, but that didn't mean I could excuse what had happened.

"Can I say something you're probably not going to like?" Char asked, not making eye contact with me.

"Of course you can."

"The Carlo I saw the other night was not the man I've known all these years. I know how bad this hurts, but he's not in his right mind, and I know that deep down, the man we know and love wouldn't ever do this to any of us."

I thought for a second, taking a big gulp of my coffee. "I agree with that. But Charlotte, he's been in Italy for years. We haven't been around Carlo in a long time. We all change, and Carlo... for whatever reason, he turned into a person that none of us recognize. A person who doesn't care who he hurts as long as he's taking care of himself. A person I can't trust and don't want in my life. Do you?"

"No. I know you're right, and I know he's been through a lot the last several years. It's just so hard. How do you reconcile who he was with what he's turned in to?" Char wiped a tear off of her cheek.

"I don't know." I admitted. "But I'm going to figure it out. I am going to figure out the right way to handle this, and I promise to handle it as delicately as I can."