Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(54)

I nodded, fully ready for any information he could give me.

“The De Lange family is the weakest of the mafia families still located in the Chicago area. That is to say, they are the weakest in the states. In Sicily, it is quite another situation. At any rate, your mother was promised to one of the Abandonatos. Nixon’s father. They wanted to make a sort of truce, combine powers. The Abandonatos were, and still are, the most powerful family here and in Sicily. They are also the wealthiest. When it came time for their betrothal announcement…” Grandpa swore. “Your father would not see reason. He had fallen in love with your mother. So he ran away with her. When they returned there was nothing we could do. They were already married, honor-bound to one another.”

At least that part of the story wasn’t traumatizing. I always knew my parents loved one another. They were constantly hugging and kissing, and they were always laughing.

“So what did the Abandonato family do?” I wasn’t sure I liked that Nixon’s family were the bad guys.

“Nothing.” Grandpa chuckled bitterly. “And that my dear girl, was the problem. They weren’t the ones in need of an alliance, nor were they going to force a woman to divorce her husband in order to do so. After all, we do not look kindly upon divorce. It is simply not done in the Catholic church, my girl.”

“So the Abandonato family let them live in peace?”

Grandpa nodded. “They allowed them their space. After a while everyone forgot the scuffle. Angelo, Nixon’s father, married a woman soon after, she resembled your mother, but that was the end of it. Unfortunately, Angelo had always been an angry sort of man. The De Lange family was a constant burden to the Abandonatos. There wasn’t a week that went by where they didn’t try to rob one of the businesses or even beat up cousins at the school. It got out of hand, and Angelo began to blame your mother for everything. Soon, he took out his anger on his own wife… and his son.”

Feeling like I was going to puke, I clenched my stomach and told myself to keep breathing in and out. Was that why Nixon couldn’t handle anyone touching him?

“Nixon?” I asked not wanting to hear the truth.

“Suffered greatly at his father’s hands.” Grandpa swore. “One evening, the evening of your sixth birthday, your parents were coming home from one of their nights in town, when they were stopped on the road. Your father wasn’t able to pull his gun out fast enough. They shot your mother in front of him and then shot him.”

Sobbing. I bit my lower lip so it wouldn’t tremble. “Who did it? Who? Angelo?”

Grandpa rose from the couch and retrieved a box of Kleenex and brought them back to me. He sat down and cleared his throat. “Nobody knows. Angelo wasn’t in the country at the time, and he swore up and down he would never do such a thing, but by that point nobody believed him. After all, his sweet wife had died just a few months before from brain hemorrhaging.”

“So you see, his word was worth nothing. His empire was at the point of crumbling because he was unable to control his anger. And on top of that, fingers were pointing in his direction that he could no longer control his own businesses. This continued on until Nixon was around the age of eighteen.”

“And then Nixon took over?”

Grandpa sighed. “His part of the story is not mine to tell. But had I known history would repeat itself, had I known another Abandonato would fall in love with one of our girls, I would have put a stop to it.”

“Love?”

Grandpa closed his eyes. “Yes. That boy. He would die for you. Yes?”

I wanted to deny it. But I couldn’t so I just looked away.

“Who killed my parents?”

“Angelo believed it was the De Lange family. He believed it was a set up. The gun used was engraved with the crest of the family, but there was no proof. We were afraid for your life, not knowing who we could trust. Your grandmother and I decided it would be best to protect you, to put you in hiding until you were of age. But as the nightmare of that night faded and your eighteenth birthday loomed closer, I hadn’t the heart to tell you the truth. Not the heart that she had.

Four years ago, it was discovered that the De Lange family was in debt to another family from Sicily. It seemed some bad investments were made. Nixon and the others formed a plan to not only bring the family down, but expose the De Langes for their treachery.”

“And has he?”

“What?” Grandpa took the wine glass from my hands and set it on the table.

“Exposed them?”

“Not yet.” Grandpa sighed. “And the longer it takes, the more I wonder if the Abandonato family wasn’t behind it. But we will never know. There has been too much killing, and now my only granddaughter is in the middle of it.”

I covered my hand with his. “Gramps, you can’t change that anymore.” I knew he was going to be pissed but I had to ask. “How can I help?”

“You’ve already done what I needed you to do. You’ve drawn attention to yourself. But now that you know who Nixon is, you are in more danger. I never meant for you to discover who he was. I trusted him to stay away from you. No.” Grandpa swore. “No, you will return to school, you will forget this happened, and you will forget about that boy.”

I sighed. It would be impossible to forget to breathe, to forget I had a heart, so what made him think it would be possible to forget Nixon?