Chapter 42

"What do you mean, involved?"

"Come on, Poppy. You're not that naïve," he said, turning his head to her in irritation. "You know damn well what this line of work is about. My brother wasn't just doing drugs, he was selling them too as a side deal with Luke's people. You want to know why I'm so mad at Luke? Why I blame that bastard for everything? It's because his drugs not only got my brother involved, but it also killed my niece."

"What are you talking about?" she said with a gasp.

"Beau was dating a girl while he was running my shipments down at the docks. Before he met his current wife, he got mixed up with this crack whore he met at a bar, and she ended up getting pregnant not long after he came here from Italy. The woman was visiting in a meth house one night to run a shipment, and the lab blew up. His daughter was in the living room when the explosion happened, and the smoke and fumes got her before a fireman could get the baby her out. She was only about six months old and lived for about a week in the ICU. He was young and stupid. I should have kept better watch on him then, and maybe he wouldn't have gotten into the wrong crowds."

"Poor Beau."

"Poor Beau? He was so strung out when the cops told him what happened. He didn't even know he had a daughter because the woman was just some fling. I sent him to rehab that very night, and I took over at the hospital, watching out for baby Giovanna. The mother died, and we were planning to send the baby back to Italy so our family could care for her. One day I was feeding her, and she died in my arms. The look in her eyes as she gasped for her last breath broke me. I guess it wasn't until Beau died I realized how much."

"So, you blame Luke for that? Roman, the ones to blame are your brother and that woman for putting a baby in that situation."

"Really, because Giovanna's mother was running drugs for Luke. That was one of their drug houses, and why they were there in the first place. When I found out, I went to kill Luke, but my sister stopped me. For some damn reason, she thinks he can be an asset when the time's right. She's freaking crazy, if you ask me."

Reaching for his hand, Poppy sat up in the bed. "I didn't know. I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Well, now you know," he said as he stood from the bed, trying to get space before he fell too deep into his emotions. "Poppy, Luke was my best friend, and he's reasonable for the death of two of my family members. How can I forgive him when the memory of that sweet child haunts my dreams?"

"Forgiveness isn't for the person who wronged you, Roman. It's so we can heal and move on and have our own peace. Clearly you're struggling with even forgiving yourself." Watching the grief-stricken man, she watched him staring out the window as a tear rolled down his cheek. "I have an idea. Bring me a notepad. I'll write a letter to send to Luke. He needs to hear it from someone who knows what that woman has done to him. Not one of your goons."

"Poppy, I trusted Luke. I never told anyone about this, but I can't forgive him, and it's killing me inside."

"Well, maybe you need to talk to him. Luke is hurting too, and I would bet losing your trust is just as hard. He's a good man. I just know it. You may not see it, but I have to believe he is. If I can trust the man who kidnapped me, I must believe there is good in him, too."

"I hope you're right, because I don't' have much forgiveness left." Leaning over, he kissed her forehead, noting, "Princess, you are too damn trusting."

"Why are you still calling me that? I don't really want you to call me the pet name you had for Claudia," she said sadly before mumbling to herself, "I want my own."

Tilting her chin to face him, Roman gave a kind smile she had never seen from him before. "Princess, that's reserved just for her you. I never called her that. I don't know why, but I knew you were different. I hope you don't leave too soon. I want you to see the real me."

I thought I told your ass to stay away from my sister," they heard a rough voice from the doorway grumble.

When they looked up, Tate was standing behind Rick, trying not to laugh. "Ooh! Roman's in trouble now!" he taunted.

"Damn right he is. Roman, step away from that bed and get your hand off her leg."

Poppy let a blunt laugh escape, quickly trying to cover it up. "Rick, he was just bringing me lunch. We were talking."

"Talking time is over. Get out. She's not decent."

"Decent?" Poppy giggled as she responded in her best southern accent, fanning herself like a true southern bell. "Oh, my heavens, Brother Richard. Whatever shall I ever do now that Master Roman has seen my in my night attire? I'm just a frail little thing that he could ravage and take hold of my innocent virtue."

Rolling his eyes at his smart mouth sister, he tried not to break a smile. "You're such a brat."

"He wasn't doing anything. I promise. Your little sister is free from the likes of the big, bad Roman D'Amico and his lustful kisses."

"Good," Rick grumbled.

Just to get in one good blow to rile him up, she added, "If he had, we would have locked the door."

"Poppy Marigold Fields, watch that sassy mouth! Oh," he said, tossing her his cellphone with a smirk. "Call Daddy. He's wanting to talk to you, young lady."

"Shit! You told him? Daddy's going to kill me. He told me to stay out of trouble or he'd come take me back home."

Rick just grinned as Tate stepped next to him, slapping him on the back with a chuckle. "Told you she'd be pissed."

"Don't Laugh you idiots. This is serious! Roman put me back in solitary confinement. It's safer there than dealing with my daddy. He'll make me close my shop— Oh no. My shop. Who's looking after my shop?"