The Italian's Final Redemption - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,51

as a spy or a distraction, since children could be useful for manipulating adults and since they were so easy to manipulate themselves. She told me I was her brave soldier and that if I wanted to be a general, I had to prove my worth and follow orders.’

He could feel the creeping dread of the night he never thought about. The inexplicable dread that he always tried to hold at bay, because nothing had ever really happened. Or, at least, that was what he’d told himself. What he’d been telling himself for years...

‘We were at the opera one night in Naples, and at the end of the production my mother pointed to a woman in the theatre foyer and told me to bring her to the alleyway a couple of doors down from the theatre. She said that if I pretended to be lost, and cry a few tears, no one would question it. I was seven and I loved my mother with all my heart. I only wanted to make her happy, and so I did what she asked.’ Years ago now, and yet that dread still wrapped around him and squeezed him tight. ‘The woman was so kind. She hugged me when she found me crying, and gave me a sweet, and she followed me when I told her to come with me to the place I’d last seen my family. She held my hand and told me a funny story...’ He stopped, took a breath, and then went on, ‘There was a van in the alleyway. And when we approached, the door opened and some men got out. They grabbed her and pushed her into the van and drove off. She didn’t even have a chance to scream.’

Lucy’s gaze darkened. ‘Oh, Vincenzo.’

He could hear the sympathy in her voice, but he knew he didn’t deserve any of it. ‘My mother was so pleased with me. And I felt proud that I’d done what she wanted me to do. And yet... I couldn’t stop seeing that woman’s face as they grabbed her. The look of fear on it. Even then I knew that something had happened to her, but I didn’t let myself remember it or think about it. But that memory was always there, and then Gabriella happened.’

Lucy placed a hand on his chest, her palm a small ember of heat. ‘Gabriella?’

He didn’t want to talk about this either, but it was too late for silence.

‘When I was twelve, Mama encouraged me to be friends with the daughter of a rival family. She was my age and wasn’t afraid of me like the other kids were. I liked that very much. I didn’t question why my mother wanted me to be Gabriella’s friend, I just let her encourage it because it suited me too.’

‘Other kids were afraid of you?’

‘Because of my family. The de Santis were very much feared, though I didn’t understand why at the time.’ He paused, the bitterness sinking deeper into his heart. ‘I liked that though. I liked being the de Santi prince that everyone was afraid of. And I was very loyal to my mother, wouldn’t hear a bad word said about her. I ignored the rumours and doubts that I picked up as I grew older. That the de Santis were a family of murderers and traitors, and that my mother was the most feared of all, because of her reputation for brutality. I didn’t believe them. Mama was small and beautiful and adored me. I couldn’t even conceive of her being brutal.’ Tension wound through him, though he tried not to let it. ‘Then when I was eighteen Mama mentioned that we needed to know the location of Gabriella’s father on a particular night, and could I perhaps find out? I knew, deep down. After that night in Naples, I suspected. There was a reason why she wanted that information and that the reason wasn’t going to be good. But I was so completely her creature that I ignored my doubts. I took Gabriella out and I got the information I needed from her. I knew she had feelings for me, and I used them the way my mother used mine for her.’

His heart clenched tight at the memory. Of Gabriella’s pretty face and the way she’d looked at him, as if the sun rose and set in his eyes. ‘It was easy. She told me everything, because she trusted me. And I betrayed her. I passed the information