Chapter 18
Ava’s meeting with Dominic happened in a therapist’s office.
Not a Bellini property.
Not Dominic’s home.
Not Matteo’s apartment.
Three chairs stood in a circle.
Ava chose first.
Dominic entered last.
He looked older than Matteo remembered.
No ring.
No expensive suit.
No attempt to resemble the man Helena once tried to teach Ava to call Daddy.
Ava studied him.
“You look different.”
“So do you.”
“I was three.”
“That explains yours better.”
She did not laugh.
Dominic sat.
Matteo remained in the adjoining room where Ava knew he could be reached.
Her therapist stayed inside.
Ava began without preparation.
“Did you want to be my dad?”
Dominic’s face tightened.
“No.”
“You let me call you that.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother told me it would help you if your father went away.”
“He did go away.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t become my dad.”
“No.”
“So Grandma was wrong.”
“Yes.”
Ava looked at him carefully.
“Did you know she wanted him gone?”
“I knew she was preparing for it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Dominic glanced toward the therapist.
She did not rescue him.
He answered.
“I knew she was doing things that could make his legal problems worse.”
“And you said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanted his job?”
“Partly.”
Ava absorbed that.
Matteo could hear every word through the approved audio connection.
He had told Dominic not to soften anything merely because she was a child.
Age-appropriate truth did not require false innocence.
Ava asked:
“Did you like me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you help Grandma?”
Dominic took longer this time.
“Because adults can care about a child and still make selfish decisions around that child.”
Ava looked toward the door separating her from Matteo.
“My dad says things like that now.”
“He learned faster than I did.”
“Did prison teach you?”
“My consequences taught me some things. Other things I learned because people stopped letting me explain everything away.”
Ava pulled one birthday card from her bag.
“You wrote I never had to call you anything except Uncle Dominic.”
“Yes.”
“Are you my uncle?”
“Technically, no. Your father and I are cousins.”
“That’s stupid.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“I won’t argue.”
Then Ava placed the photograph from her locker between them.
Dominic’s expression changed immediately.
“You know this picture?”
“Yes.”
“Who has copies?”
“Half the older Bellini families probably had one.”
“Who wrote the message?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know Carlo Ventresca?”
Dominic became still.
“Yes.”
“Dad says he took your ring.”
“He had no right to.”
Ava leaned back.
“Everybody keeps saying people had no right after they already did it.”
The sentence reached Matteo harder than anything else.
Dominic looked ashamed.
“You’re right.”
Ava continued.
“Dad says Grandma wanted me to be part of the Bellini organization when I grew up.”
Dominic’s eyes moved toward the therapist.
Again, no rescue.
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“Back then?”
“Yes.”
“I imagined you growing up around us.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Dominic exhaled.
“Yes. I assumed you would belong to it because you were a Bellini.”
Ava looked down.
“And now?”
“Now I think belonging is a decision people should be allowed to make after they understand what they’re joining.”
The meeting ended after forty minutes.
Ava did not hug him.
She did not call him Uncle Dominic.
But before leaving, she said:
“You can send the next birthday card.”
Dominic nodded.
“Okay.”
“That doesn’t mean you come to my birthday.”
“I know.”
Outside, Matteo waited.
Ava took his hand.
“How was it?”
“He told the truth.”
“Do you feel better?”
“No.”
Matteo nodded.
Truth did not always produce relief.
Sometimes it simply removed one lie.
As they walked toward Teresa’s car, Matteo saw a man standing across the street.
Gray coat.
Silver hair.
Watching them.
Carlo Ventresca.
He did not approach.
He only touched two fingers to his chest in the old Bellini greeting.
Then looked directly at Ava.
Matteo stepped between them.
May you like
Carlo smiled.
And walked away.
