Vincenzo’s father lifted his eyes to Vincenzo, but they were clouded not with anger, only a deep, weary fear. 

The cold fury in Vincenzo’s voice struck him harder than any anyone ever had, sending a chill deep into his bones.

“Figlio mio ( my son),” Vincenzo father whispered, his voice thin and strained. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t lose anyone else. Not after your mother.” 

He reached out, his hand trembling. “I just want all of us to put ...