Photographs
“I’m not saying I agree, but I can imagine her pain and if her heart is broken, she felt pushed or compelled to do something drastic.”
“Could you do something so drastic? What if someone murdered your mother or your uncle?”
She felt an undercurrent of something she was not able to identify in his question and frowned at him and then opened her mouth in shock, “are you planning to kill my uncle or my mother?”
“Your mother no. Your uncle,” he gave a one-shoulder shrug, “it’s a fantasy.”
“You can’t kill them, Icaro.”
“What if I ask nicely?”
“Icaro! No. You cannot kill him. Why would you even want to?”
“Because he’s a lying, sneaky, manipulative, abusive piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to occupy the same planet you are on.”
“There are many horrible people on the planet, but it doesn’t mean you go around killing them.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve killed plenty of men for far less than the crap Ippocrate Giannone has committed. Let me show you only an example of his wickedness, Zorah,” he opened a different file on his computer desktop and noted the surprised expression on her face. “What is it?”
“You have a file with my name on it?”
“I do.”
He clicked an icon in the folder, and it opened up another spreadsheet.
Her mouth fell open in surprise, “what is this number?”
“Since you were a small child, we’ve transferred money for your care to your family.”
“Seven million dollars over twenty years?”
“Yes.”
“You gave him so much money?”
“You were meant to have a life of luxury, Zorah. You were supposed to be sent to private school. You were supposed to have the best in an education. You were supposed to have all the things a Lucchesi daughter would have growing up. He pocketed the money.”
“What did he do with it?”
“He lied to his superiors and said an anonymous donation was given for the expansion of the church and the rectory where his new office sits.”
“He used Lucchesi money to build himself a new office?” Zorah felt her stomach church. “No. He said it was a donation from the patrons of the parish.”
“He lied. We have a hell of an IT team and the head of our IT team, is a woman named Doris. She did an audit of his finances for me last week when I realized the frugal way you lived wasn’t a choice. She was incredibly angry to see he was getting fat off your allowances. Tonight, she will be reclaiming all the money ever sent to you in his care.”
“I don’t understand,” she grimaced. “Are you saying you gave them millions of dollars to provide a life for me and he used it for himself? He doesn’t have anything.”
“While you and the nuns were eating meagre portions of chicken and rice, he was eating thick cut steaks. While you were given fruit juices and water, he was drinking extremely expensive bottles of wine with his steaks. While you were wearing cotton panties which come in packs of twelve, he was buying high-end underwear to support the massive balls he has for trying to fuck you over. The mattress in his bedroom on which he probably wanked off to illicit thoughts of his niece, he paid over eight thousand dollars for. He bought high-end expensive things which only he could see and nobody else would notice. Things which were noticeable, he lied and said a parishioner gave an anonymous donation.”
“I don’t believe this,” she stared at the screen which showed a monthly deposit to an account in her name. “I’ve never seen this account.”
“We know this now.”
“What a jerk,” she folded her arms over her chest.
“Agreed.”
“I still don’t want you to kill him, but I’m not opposed to you taking the money back.”
“What should we do with it? Shall I buy you another island?”
“No.” She paused, “wait, did you really buy me an island?”
“Nonna said to buy you an island. I bought you a Caribbean island, or at least it’s in the works. I’ll give you the deed as soon as I have it in hand.”
“What is this folder?” she tapped on the screen and felt Icaro shifting under her thighs. “You don’t want for me to see?”
He sighed, “it is a collection of photographs of you from the time you were a small child until recently.”
“You have photos of me on your computer?”
“My computer. My phone. My tablet.” He shrugged. “I’m a man obsessed.”
“You have pictures of me on your phone?” she was genuinely surprised. “I want to see.”
“I don’t know, Zorah.”
“Give me your phone,” she lunged for it on his desktop, and he held it away from her. “Why can’t I see what you were photographing?”
“Because you weren’t aware of the photos.”
“Are they indecent?”
“No!”
“Then why can’t I see them?”
He grew frustrated, “fine but if this causes another fight, I’m not sure I will recover mentally. My brain and heart are hurting already from the distance between us.”
She rolled her eyes at him and opened the phone and began scrolling. Some of the photos were recent and she looked at him curiously. “You take a lot of photographs of me sleeping.”
“You’re beautiful and I can’t help myself.”
She paused at a photo of her in the dance club dancing with her hands thrown up in the air. “I look weird here.”
“You look carefree here. I love this expression on your face. No worries in this moment.” He gave her a tender smile.
She continued scrolling through the photos and realized his phone didn’t have photographs of anything else in it but her. Then she noted one from over a year ago. She knew it needed to be at least a year old because there was a lamp on the nightstand in the photo which she’d broken accidentally. “You took a photo of me sleeping in my bed in my apartment? You were really there?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” she blinked away tears.
“I struggled to stay away from you until you were twenty-one. I would sneak in, sit, and watch you for hours and then leave before you woke up.”
“You never touched me?”
“I brushed your hair off your cheek, and I would kiss your cheek when I would leave but if you mean sexually, no, Zorah. Not once.”
“This is such a violation of my privacy,” she passed him back his phone and tapped at the computer screen again. “Are all the photos like this?”
“No. Most of the ones on the computer are from your guards over the years. Your graduation photos are there and so on.”
She noted another file in the folder and frowned, “you have a file on my mother?”
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