Masters at Arms - By Kallypso Masters Page 0,41

to the family dinner anyway? She and Gino had barely been engaged a week when he’d enlisted. Talk about a whirlwind romance.

Marc hadn’t seen her since that disastrous night at his apartment when he’d totally lost control. He’d talked to the Navy recruiter the next day.

See the world. Whether he was sent to Iraq, Afghanistan, or just another part of the States, it would be far enough away, he supposed.

Seeing Melissa again reminded him of the last face-to-face conversation he’d had with Gino before his brother left home, only to be killed in the mountains of Afghanistan five months later.

Since Gino’s death—Dio, two months short of two years now, he realized—Marc had buried himself in the running of the resort, losing interest in the frivolous pursuits he’d specialized in since high school.

Gino had been the favored son, the one Mama groomed all his life to take over the family business. Always the dutiful son, Gino had gone to Cornell’s Johnson School earning an MBA, just as Mama wanted. He’d returned to Aspen and put the degree to use turning the family’s ski lodge into a popular world-class, five-star resort offering all of the amenities.

Marc had opted to attend a nearby college and earn a degree in recreation and leisure studies, hoping to come back to the resort to pursue the things he loved, like skiing and camping. He’d lived the life of a carefree playboy—easy job, easy money, easy women. No one expected anything more from him.

Then Marc had invited Melissa to Aspen late in the summer following their college graduation to meet his family. He and Melissa had dated more steadily since his third year of college. Marc’s interest in BDSM had been developing for a few years and Melissa had been a willing participant, the first woman his age to have shown any interest in bondage and discipline.

When Marc had caught Gino in bed with Melissa early one September morning two years ago, the brothers had fought, physically, but also verbally. Gino had everything he could possibly want—and yet he found the need to steal Marc’s girl away. It wasn’t until much later Marc realized Melissa had set Gino up. But Gino hadn’t had time to pursue women and fell head over heels for Melissa, proposing to her that day, whether because he loved her or wanted to rub Marc’s face in their relationship, Marc wasn’t sure.

Neither of them had seen Melissa for who she really was at that point. Gino probably never did. When the Nine-Eleven attacks happened a week later, Gino surprised everyone by enlisting. He loved his brother, even if they were embattled in a constant rivalry.

Since he’d heard Gino had been killed in action, guilt plagued Marc over the things he’d said to his big brother that day. Had Gino enlisted for patriotic reasons for their adopted homeland—or because Marc had driven him away with his anger and animosity?

He’d loved his brother, even if they had spent most of their lives embattled in an ugly sibling rivalry. Had Marc driven his brother to his death?

Even though that thought had consumed him every day since February 2002, it still had the power to cause his meal to churn in his gut. He laid his fork down.

Mama’s voice brought him back to the present. “You have responsibilities here. Who will operate the lodge?”

Anyone the hell but me.

Lord knew, he’d tried. But he and his mother had clashed over every major decision he’d tried to make. Besides, Marc had always been more interested in developing backcountry ski and hiking weekend packages he could lead groups on, not overseeing the day-to-day operations and making sure the payroll and taxes were paid on time.

“I’ve been showing Alessandro and Carmela how to take over for a couple months now. They’re ready for the day-to-day management.” His brother and sister took a sudden interest in the lasagna remaining on their plates, afraid of revealing their duplicity in the plan Marc had put into action two months ago when he’d enlisted.

“Unacceptable!” Her Lombardy accent became more pronounced when she perceived a loss of control. She’d grown up in the war-ravaged Apennine Mountains, where Marc and his siblings had been born, as well. The family ran a ski lodge there, but moved to Aspen when Mama had discovered the name of her father, an American soldier in World War II. Marc’s grandfather had helped the family get established in this country and all of the D’Alessios were American citizens now.

“Your place is here.