Chapter 9 - THE TRUTH ABOUT ALEANDRO RALDI
Aleandro told me everything one snowy evening in December.
We sat beside the fireplace.
The city glowed beyond the windows.
He didn't make excuses.
He told me about the criminal operations he'd inherited from his father.
The illegal gambling.
The protection rackets.
The intimidation.
The men he'd threatened.
The decisions he'd made because he'd believed power was the only way to survive.
I listened.
Sometimes I was frightened.
Sometimes angry.
Sometimes deeply disappointed.
When he finished, I asked, “Are you still involved?”
He hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
“Some parts of the organization are still being dismantled.”
I looked down.
“That's not a simple answer.”
“No.”
I took a breath.
“I can't build a life with someone who uses violence to solve every problem.”
Aleandro's expression tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked at me.
Then nodded.
“I'm trying to change.”
I swallowed.
“I need more than trying.”
He was silent.
I continued.
“I spent six months with a man who promised he'd become better.”
Aleandro looked pained.
“I understand.”
“No,” I whispered. “You don't. Not completely.”
He nodded.
“Then tell me what I need to understand.”
I stared at him.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then I said, “I need to know that when I disagree with you, I won't be punished.”
Aleandro's expression softened.
“You won't.”
“I need to know I can leave a room without being followed.”
“Yes.”
“And if I decide this isn't what I want?”
His jaw tightened.
But he answered.
“Then I'll respect your decision.”
I studied him.
He looked terrified.
Not of enemies.
Not of losing money.
Of losing me.
And still, he was giving me a choice.
I reached for his hand.
“Then maybe we have a chance.”
May you like
He closed his eyes.
And held my hand as though it were something precious.
