“They claim that your father killed many people.”
Sergio looked at Alex pensively.
“I was nineteen when my father was shot,” he said slowly. “I think that he deserved it because he killed a lot of people.”
Alex shivered. “That sounds intense.”
“Intense?” Sergio grimaced. “My father was a hit man. He came to America from Sicily as a young man knowing nothing but tending sheep and handling weapons. He did that in order to survive, because legal jobs were hard to come by back then. Life in the 1930s was very difficult. Honest work was hard to come by and poorly paid.”
“Did you like your father?”
Sergio contemplated for a moment before he replied.
“To be honest, I don’t remember. I hardly knew him. He sent me off to boarding school when I was six. My brother had been killed, and he didn’t want me to get into any kind of trouble. For ten years, I just came home for Christmas. I didn’t move back to New York until after my father was dead.”
They lay next to each other in silence. Far below them, the city that never sleeps was bustling, and they could hear the muted sounds of street traffic.
“Have you killed anyone?” Alex asked quietly. Sergio looked at her with a spark in his eyes.
“Why do you want to know that, cara?”
“There are so many stories in the newspapers,” she replied, “all these things about the Mafia and crime syndicates. I want to know if any of it is true.”
Sergio kissed her, gently disentangling himself from her, and got up. Somehow his naked body didn’t make him seem defenseless or ridiculous. He held himself with the nonchalant self-confidence of a classical statue.
“Is it important to you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said as she calmly returned his look, “it’s important to me.”
“Would it make a difference to you if you found out that I am all the things that the press claims? Would the past matter so much that you wouldn’t want to see me anymore?”
“No.” Alex shook her head. “It has nothing to do with that.”
She knew he had secrets, and it didn’t bother her. But since Oliver said those harsh words last night, she felt the need to know some general truths.
“What is it then?” Sergio asked, and Alex straightened up. She thought about the Downeys and the trusting affection between them.
“I want to hear from you if what the newspapers write is true. If it’s the truth and you tell me, then I can live with it. I simply want to be able to trust you.”
Sergio sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at her. For a split second he felt tempted to tell Alex what she wanted to hear, but then he remembered Nelson’s warning and the guy with whom she had cheated on him. Reason regained the upper hand. He was still as unable to read Alex’s face as on their first meeting. He knew he desired her like no woman before. He wanted to own and dominate her, but that was exactly what she didn’t allow him to do. No, he must not show any signs of weakness. He could not possibly tell her the truth because he had learned never to trust anyone very early in his life. Generosity and openness were weaknesses that could be deadly. Since the potential for false friends was high, Sergio preferred not to have any friends at all. He had reliable business partners with whom he had no emotional ties. But people who knew too much about him could possibly hurt, weaken, or even destroy him. He couldn’t really trust anyone, even within the ranks of his own family, and Cesare’s ridiculous threat was proof of that. The tough struggle for survival growing up on the streets of Little Italy and the Lower East Side and the brutal murders of his brother and father had changed him forever. This made it impossible for Sergio to be completely open with anyone.
He knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave Alex if the circumstances required it. But he hoped that this would never be the case. All this went through his head while Alex stared at him, waiting for a response. For a brief moment, Sergio felt ashamed as he prepared to lie to her.
“Listen, cara,” he said and looked at her openly, “I had to fight very hard all my life to get to where I am right now. I lead a major corporation and am responsible for thousands of people. When I was young, I made a questionable deal or two. But what person who made it to the top hasn’t done such things?”
Alex nodded.
“When the newspapers write disparaging things about me, it’s just because of envy and frustration. Try as they might, they can’t dig up any dirt on me. That’s why they keep bringing up these old stories about my father. Entire books have been written about Ignazio Vitali, like Murder Inc., and it’s no secret that he and his colleagues killed dozens of people during Prohibition. But that is not my legacy. I conduct my business in the manner of other legitimate businessmen around the world. Maybe I’m more cunning or more ruthless, but I pay my taxes and present my financial statements to whoever cares to read them. I have never been convicted, and I’m no criminal. All this tabloid talk about the Mafia and the underworld will sell newspapers, but it doesn’t correspond with reality.”
Sergio looked calmly at Alex, and everything he said sounded plausible in her ears.
“Are you happy now, cara?”
She nodded.
“You do your job and I do mine,” Sergio continued. “We are both successful. When I see you, cara, I’d rather not think about business, but about you. This is not about concealing anything from you.”
“Hmm,” Alex said as she wrapped her arms around his waist, “so what’s your involvement with LMI?”
Sergio was prepared for this question because he knew that Oliver had told her about it.
“I’m on the board of directors,” he said as he pulled her close and kissed her, “just like I sit on twenty-four other boards. My companies also do business with LMI every now and then. That’s all.”
Alex sighed. To hell with Oliver and his conspiracy theories! If Sergio had denied any business involvement with LMI, then she wouldn’t have believed anything else either, but now she felt sure Sergio was being honest. And that was enough for her.
Alex woke up the next morning and needed a few seconds to realize where she was. Her eyes fell on Sergio, who was still in a state of deep sleep. She’d made a decision during the night. Her brief affair with Oliver was over. It hurt too much when he threw her out of his apartment without giving her a chance to explain herself. Sergio had much more to offer. A penthouse overlooking Central Park, a private underground garage for her Porsche, and a table at Le Cirque without a reservation! Sergio Vitali made everything possible, and there was no point in pretending that she didn’t care about him. The intimacy of their night together made her feel like this could be the loving relationship she longed for. Sergio opened his eyes and squinted into the bright sunlight. He reached for her and Alex snuggled into his arms.
“What are you thinking about, cara?” he whispered.
“All kinds of things.” She stroked his tousled hair and was tempted for a split second to tell him the whole truth about her feelings. But then she thought about Oliver and what her honesty led to with him. No, she couldn’t tell him—it didn’t matter how close she felt to him.
“Does it have anything to do with me?”
“No,” she lied. “I’m thinking about how I could raise thirty-two million dollars for A&R. Maybe I could—”
Sergio bolted into an upright position.
“You are really unbelievable,” he said. “You lie in bed with me and all you can think about is business!”
He shot her such a hurt look that she paused in fright. Sergio untangled himself from her, jumped up, and walked across the room. Alex bit her lip as he disappeared into the bathroom. She really wanted to run after him and tell him the truth—that she had been hurt by his behavior and had cheated on him with another man only because she’d hoped that would banish him from her mind! Impossible. No, she had to keep pretending that he was just an acquaintance with whom she enjoyed spending a few hours now and then.