DeLuca E-Book

L.J. Diva

• Herausgeber: Royal Star Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Porn Star Brothers Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 464

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

This series is dedicated to…

Jackie Collins is the biggest inspiration in my life when it comes to writing, if not the only inspiration. She had the passion; the brains, the ballsy rollicking attitude, and the kind of life that made me want to be her.

And to the three Stefanovic brothers, Carlos, Pedro, and Tomas, without whom I would not have had names for my porn stars.

In the tradition of the bonkbustingly good Jackie Collins comes L.J. Diva’s Porn Star Brothers series.

Stephano DeLuca worked hard to become a world-famous bullfighter in his homeland of Spain. But after marrying Constance, and having their only child, Antonio, he also finds love in a surprising place, keeping it from his wife and the bullfighting community.

Gay love is not appropriate in the ’50s, let alone ’60s and ’70s, but Stephano finds a way, more so after his separation from Connie. While she finds passionate sex with a Greek Australian on Mykonos, he finds it with a multitude of lovers across the Mediterranean. Until one fling puts an end to his philandering ways and his life.

Devastated, Connie cannot deal with the horrific legacy Stephano left behind and does the only thing she has any control over.

Antonio, unable to deal with his parent’s choices, does the only thing he has control over, and leaves the DeLuca estate to his young son to inherit upon his 25th birthday, starting a new, intimate legacy with a family the DeLuca’s know all too well…

DeLuca is the fifth novel in the Porn Star Brothers contemporary romance series featuring the sizzlingly sexy Spanish Colombian DeLuca family.

If you like family sagas and decades-old dirty little secrets, then you’ll love L.J. Diva’s page-turning series.

Continue your love affair with The Porn Star Brothers Series today!

***These books contain swearing, sex, and a plotline. They’re for the over 18s only, but we all know those younger ones will sneak a peek.

**** In order of reading – Carlos, Pedro, Tomas, Retribution (or the Porn Star Brothers box set or collector’s edition paperback novel), Forever, Love Never Dies, Stefan: The New Generation, DeLuca, Spiros & Jenny, And Always.

Leseprobe

DELUCA

L.J. Diva

TIMELINE

2008

1949

1956

1961

1966

1971

1977

1978

1979

1980

1981

2006

2008

2012

About the Author

Other Titles

Dedications

Copyright

2008

“So, what do you think?” Tony asked the Stephanopouloses as he sat in their living room. “Will you come to Spain and help me clear out the family home?”

Carlos Stephanopoulos, world-famous film writer, director, and producer, sighed. “I’m not sure I want to visit that memory.” Carlos had known Tony’s father and grandmother in the ’70s, and last saw him at his wedding to Vivian, but they’d never seen him, or his mother Connie, again. And thirty years after seeing Antonio at their wedding, his son, Tony, had walked into their lives as their son Cabot’s date. Smack bang on the day of their thirtieth wedding anniversary. It brought back memories for Carlos that he didn’t want, but he made the decision to tell Tony about his father’s and grandparents’ deaths. Tony hadn’t taken it well, but then he was finding out the truth after thirty years.

Carlos glanced at his wife who was gently moving back and forth to calm their first grandson, Adam. Their daughter, Diana, had given birth barely a month earlier and Viv was in her glory. He saw the glow that holding a newborn had given her as she softly smiled down at her grandson. Her finger gently stroked his cheek, and he gurgled and cooed in her arms. “Viv?”

“Mmm?” She looked up dreamily, her peaches and cream complexion made dewy by the glow of grandmotherhood.

“Tony’s asking us to go to Spain to see the family home,” Carlos said.

“Oh, that’s nice. Didn’t you mention something about that last year?” She went back to staring at her grandson. At seventy-one, she had finally become a grandmother, and didn’t know how long she had left to enjoy it. She’d been a late mother, having Diana at forty-one, and the boys at forty-five, and now, finally, she was a grandmother.

“Yes, I did, Mrs S,” Tony said. “It’s time to get the house done up for the summer rental period, but now that I know the truth about my father and grandparents, I want to go back and find their graves and finally take care of things properly. I’ve left everything in the vault. The lawyers may be looking after the estate, but I have to fix things first before the renters start coming.”

Tony glanced at his boyfriend, Cabot. They’d met in October 2007 when he’d come to Mykonos searching for the man who’d sexually assaulted him, but instead found Cabot going by the name Darren Holbrook which was an experiment set up by his therapist. Cabot had been experiencing his own assault and had contracted HIV from it, as he’d done, and they found out it was the same guy who had assaulted them both. Cabot came clean about the experiment to him and who his family was. Apparently, Xanthe Metlos, the therapist, thought Cabot’s fame and family name was getting in the way of him finding his true self, so she gave him a new identity. Not that Tony minded, his own therapist had suggested something similar with him to deal with his assault.

On the day of Cabot’s parents’ anniversary, he’d found out about his father and grandparents, finally knowing the truth about their deaths. Everything made sense. How the house he’d inherited was beautiful, but felt haunted, how the office was cold and forbidding. It was where his father had shot himself to death. The house felt weird to him, and he hadn’t been back since the one and only time he’d visited when he’d inherited the entire DeLuca estate on his twenty-fifth birthday five years ago.

After finding Cabot and falling in love, he knew his life was with him, whether that was in Mykonos, New York, or London. Cabot and his twin brother Antonio, bizarrely named after his father too as the twins were named after dead friends of their parents, were models that travelled the world and spent many years in New York, but after contracting HIV, Cabot changed on his journey to finding himself and had decided to model part-time only, which suited his brother as they were a package deal. They still modelled for Haus of Stefan, their sister and cousin’s fashion house. Diana, being a model and Alena, a mega-famous singer, had turned their love of fashion into a brand and all of them modelled for it. But Cabot wanted more out of life, and had taken up his uncles’ cause of talking about HIV and AIDS and being a campaigner.

Tony had agreed wholeheartedly and was by his side one hundred percent. He also had no problems with Cabot wanting to help out at Tomas and Roger’s AIDS care home in Miami. And this year, Cabot was talking about following in Tomas and Roger’s footsteps even more, by having them become trained dieticians and nutritionists, so they could keep their health in check. And he vaguely remembered something about becoming personal trainers. All of that was on top of Cabot’s half share in The Mykonos Assault and HIV/AIDS Support Centre he’d set up with his cousin Alexis the year before, after she too had been assaulted.

Six foot, blue-eyed, golden-brown Cabot was gorgeous, in and out of clothes. They hadn’t been intimate until Christmas after a long stern talking to from Xanthe and AIDS specialists and honorary family members, doctors Dan Ardent and Derek Blaine. They had come clean about the number of partners they’d had, what STDs they’d dealt with, and what inhibitors they were taking. Dan and Derek gave them the all-clear physically, Xanthe mentally, and at Christmas, they had made love for the first time and hadn’t stopped since. Staying with Tomas and Roger was a bit awkward, but since they were all gay, it didn’t really impact on anyone. They were definitely going to have to find themselves their own place now since he’d decided to stay on Mykonos permanently.

“Fix things how?” Cabot asked from beside his father on the couch in his childhood home. He gazed lovingly at Tony, his lover of six months.

Tony smiled softly, and wrapped his legs around his boyfriend’s from the easy chair beside the couch and played footsies. “I want to find their graves. Find where they’re buried. Maybe put a headstone on. But I don’t know.” He cast his greeny-hazel eyes down. “I don’t want to live there, ever, so I’m not sure about leaving them there. No one will want the place with their graves on the property, and since I don’t want to be there, then I don’t have them with me, and that’s not fair either.”

“Have you thought about cremation?” Viv asked. “If you don’t want the house, then find them, cremate them, and sell the place off. But clearly, Antonio wanted you to inherit the estate. He set everything up for you.”

“But what’s the point in that?” Tony asked. “That’s their life. I never grew up there, Dad came to England to be with us, then went back to Spain when his father died. He never came back. Next thing I know, Mum’s crying and looking at paperwork, and telling me Dada’s never coming back.” He saddened at the memories, the pain twanging in his heart. “He never came back, I never saw him again. I was two years old and I never saw my father again.”

“Naw, Tony,” Cabot murmured softly, realising just how lucky he was to still have two parents who loved him. “I’m sorry.”

Tony’s lips turned up a little at the corners. “Thanks, Cabot. So am I. I’ll never know my father, and my mother’s passed, so I only have half-siblings and they don’t care except for what they can get out of me. All of my immediate blood family is gone.” Sighing deeply, he released himself of the pain. “So…what do I do about it?”

“I didn’t know your mother had passed,” Cabot said. “You’ve never mentioned it.” His hand slid over the couch arm and onto Tony’s, squeezing gently.

Tony shrugged. “It happened a few years back. I’m okay with it, but I don’t talk about it because it makes everything too final. Too…” He struggled for the words. “Finished, over. My family’s gone. That’s how come I stayed for Christmas and New Year. Because I had nothing immediate to go back for.”

“I could go back with you,” Cabot said, weaving his fingers in and out of Tony’s. “We could holiday there this summer. After Spain maybe? I don’t think Antonio and I have a lot of jobs on, so we might have a couple of months.”

Tony’s lush lips moved up into a smile. “That would be nice. I can show you where I grew up.”

Cabot matched the smile. “That would be nice. So, back to the matter of your house. What do you want to do?”

Another sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t want to live in it. I don’t know if I want to keep it. I have no children to hand it down to. So…there’s no one after me for it to go to. I guess Dad figured he and Mum would have more kids, or that I’d grow up to have kids, but he probably never figured I’d turn out gay like his father.”

“Not that that’s a bad thing.” Viv smiled at her potential son-in-law. “If you weren’t gay, you wouldn’t have met Cabot and made him a better person.”

Tony’s smile brightened and Cabot blushed. “You’re right, Mrs S, but still, I won’t be having kids of my own, and I doubt I’ll be able to adopt any unless they were HIV positive too. That’s a long way off at this time, and I’m already thirty this year. I’ve had the estate almost five years now, and after everything that’s happened in the last two, it’s made me realise that life is precious and I have no family in England, except for my grandparents who are awesome, and some aunts and cousins, and I definitely don’t have family in Spain. So, except for a holiday home, I have nothing. There’s nothing to make me go there. Nothing to make me stay. I can pack up what’s in the vault and keep that, but everything else is of no consequence.”

“What’s left in the vault compared to the house?” Carlos asked.

“Well, the house is full of antiques and furniture that I have no real need for. All old-fashioned and heavy, and tonnes of my grandfather’s memorabilia. The vault contained photos, certain prints, family heirlooms, money, jewellery, collections. I left most of it there, just kept a few photos. I couldn’t take it, didn’t want to. Too much heartache to deal with. I haven’t been there in five years, but now that I’m turning thirty this year, and have Cabot and your family, it makes me want to do something about mine. So…” Thoughts slid through his mind. “I think it’s time to deal with it and get it over and done with.”

“And you want us to come with you,” Viv said. “I know you mentioned it before, but now that Adam is here I’m not sure I want to leave.” Bending down, she left a soft kiss on his forehead and got a gurgle in return.

“He’s fine, Viv,” Carlos said. “He’s a healthy one month old, and Diana has everything under control. And then there’s Angie and Mama if need be.”

“But Diana’s a new mother and needs me,” Viv replied. “Just as your mother helped out Angie and me thirty years ago, I want to be here for Diana now.”

“And Diana’s doing fine,” Carlos soothed. “It’s only for a week or two, and we never did send off Connie and Antonio. We didn’t know for a month they had passed away. We owe it to them.”

Frowning, she gazed at him. “Don’t guilt me into this. I was heartbroken as much as you were, but they’ve been gone for twenty-seven years.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t pop over to Spain for a week or two, just to pay tribute to them,” Carlos told her. He was just as guilt-ridden as he had been in 1981 when he’d found out they’d killed themselves. He could have warned Connie that Stephano had male lovers and multiple STDs, plus the potentially fatal gay plague. But his family had warned him off calling, and so Connie ended up with STDs and HIV. She killed herself because of the heartbreak and shame of having a gay husband who was full of STDs. Antonio killed himself from the shame of all of it and left his son behind. And that cut Carlos to the core every goddamn day since, and Viv knew it.

She saw his forlorn expression and felt the burden he did. “You really want to go?”

“Yes.” His eyes pleaded.

Feeling the emotional pull from her husband’s pain compete with the emotional pull of her new grandson, she asked, “How long would we be gone for?”

“A week, two tops,” Tony said. “I want to find their graves and clear out the vault. That shouldn’t take long. I can have it packed up and sent here to sort out later. But I want to do something about their graves, give them headstones, or cremate them. I don’t know. I’m hoping that I’ll know what to do when the time comes. When I find them and see where they’ve been buried, I’m hoping I’ll know whether to leave them, or remove them. Maybe if I cremate them, I’ll sprinkle half of the ashes, and keep the other half. They’ll always be there, but I’ll have them too. Then if I ever sell the place, their souls will still be there.”

“Their souls are there anyway,” Viv murmured. “Connie and Antonio have been there for twenty-seven years. They’ll stay there regardless.”

“Maybe,” Tony replied. “Or maybe they’re waiting for me to return and do something. Maybe they want me to take charge and clear the air. Maybe I should get some sort of exorcist in to exorcise the air and grounds, to make it not feel so haunted.”

“Maybe,” Cabot said. “It could only help. If it feels haunted, then maybe it’s time for their spirits to be set free.”

*****

They discussed it further over dinner that night as they all sat around the tables in Jenny Stephanopoulos’s home. The whole family always gathered for dinners and Sunday lunch with the matriarch and patriarch of the Stephanopoulos family. If it weren’t for Australian born Jenny, and her Greek-born husband Spiros, the family would not be as close as they were, nor have the family businesses and careers they had.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Jenny said as she sliced through her lamb cutlet. “Maybe you can finally put it all to rest.” She knew full well the guilt Carlos carried around with him and felt partially responsible for it. She had convinced him to say nothing, because it was none of the family’s business, and upon finding out about Connie and Antonio’s deaths, had not only felt her son’s burden, but her own. And it was the one thing she continually convinced Carlos not to tell Tony; that Carlos had not warned Connie about her husband’s diseases. After all, what good would it do, especially all these years later?

“So do I, Mrs S,” Tony agreed. “I’d like to take Cabot there anyway, but since Mr and Mrs S knew my father and grandmother, I thought they’d like to come along. Antonio, too.”

“Me!?” Antonio looked up in surprise from across the kids’ table. He was sitting opposite Tony who had Cabot to his left. “Why would you need me to come? You’ve got Cabot.” He watched Tony’s twinkling exotic green eyes. He’d never been sure about the whole relationship between Tony and his brother. He’d been with his brother for twenty-five years, living, working, breathing the same air together. It had just been them. The Stefan twins, Steele and Phoenix, taking on the world. But after Cabot contracted HIV and tried to kill himself, and Antonio had saved him from jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge in New York last year, Cabot had been a changed person since coming home to Mykonos in August to deal with it.

And Antonio finally had the space to breathe on his own. But when Cabot met Tony, his jealousy arose and suddenly he’d felt like an outcast in his brother’s life. Once Cabot made decisions about his career and talked things over with him and Tony, it all settled down. They were still brothers, still twins, and would still work together. Just not as frequently. He had nothing to fear from Tony. Especially since he’d decided to stay on Mykonos.

“Because you’re his brother,” Tony replied. “Since being with him, his family has become my family, and you’ll be my brother-in-law one day. So, why shouldn’t you come?”

Cabot heard the words brother-in-law and choked on his lamb. His blue eyes widened, taking in the wide-eyed surprised faces of his cousins around him, and his aunt, uncles and parents at the other table. He swallowed and looked at everyone in a panic. Tony had never mentioned anything about getting married.

The rest of the house was quiet as they all stopped eating and talking to stare in their direction.

Antonio eyed Cabot’s expressions and smirked over his beer glass. “Clearly, you haven’t discussed that with Cabot yet.”

Tony smiled brightly. “No, but I’ll get around to it one day.” He glanced at a very red Cabot. “It will happen.”

Cabot folded in on himself, unable to look at anyone, embarrassed and excited, and quickly shoved food into his mouth for something to do, so he didn’t have to say anything.

Jenny smiled; things were finally happening for Cabot, and she was glad he had found someone outside of Antonio to be in his life. And glad that Antonio finally had the freedom to get a life.

Tomas and Roger had looked over their shoulders at the boys. Now they smiled at each other and Roger slid an arm around his husband and kissed him on the cheek. Tomas smiled and went back to eating.

Carlos glanced at Viv and she raised her brows back. He was unsure of what to say. While he had accepted Tony in Cabot’s life, and hence the family’s life, he wasn’t sure marriage was the next best thing for either of them. Diana was busy with Adam, Antonio was still reserved, and so was he. And he knew Viv adored Tony, but… He swigged back his beer and glanced from Tony and Cabot to his wife. She was smiling brightly, happy that Cabot was back to normal and in love with one person instead of the whole male population of the entire planet.

Jenny glanced at the adults at the dining table. Pedro and Angie were to her right with Carlos, Viv, Diana and baby Adam beside them. With Diana giving birth in April, fortunately, they had finished the house she lived in before the next generation came into the world. She had shared the house below Carlos and Viv’s with Alena, but Alena had to move out so Charles could move in. They redecorated, did up a nursery, and had Charles’s belongings packed up and shipped in from New York. And he was back to being fit and well after the traumatic experience he’d suffered last year.

Charles was opposite Diana, with Simon and Deidre Dencott, Roger's long lost son and daughter-in-law, next to him. They had only come into the family last Thanksgiving after a DNA test proved Simon was indeed Roger’s son by an old co-star Roger had done pornos with in the mid-’70s. Roger and Tomas were next to them on Jenny’s left. All were smiling at Tony’s declaration.

“So, looks like you’ll all be going then,” Jenny continued.

“It’s also your birthday and anniversary this month, Mama. We don’t want to be away for that,” Carlos reminded her.

“Neither do we,” Antonio added from the second table. Looking over his shoulder, he added, “We missed everyone’s last year and don’t want to miss anyone’s again.”

“We can go and be back by then,” Tony pushed on, desperately wanting his new family to go with him. “It will only be a week or two, if that. We can be back for the next celebration. When is it?”

“The twenty-second of May,” Antonio told him. “We celebrate Grandma’s birthday, and her and Grandpa’s anniversary, on the day between the dates. Then Alena and Diana are thirty in June, Grandpa’s eighty-three in July, and Cabot and I are twenty-six in July.”

“And I’m thirty in August,” Tony added.

“Most of us are in the first half of the year,” Dom said from beside Antonio. “It gets awful busy with parties and presents.” He’d had his birthday a month earlier in April and turned twenty-five, and was in the process of coming up with a business to use his trust fund for.

“Yes, so it’s all over by July with us.” Cabot finally spoke up. “Then the anniversaries are in November, with Thanksgiving, and it all starts again.” He noticed Alexis and Alena still trading glances at each other and then glancing at him. He pulled a face at them and finished off the last of his lamb.

“I’d better write them all down in my diary so I can keep up,” Tony said. “But getting back to Spain. We can leave in a few days, and if we’re there too long then you guys can fly home for the parties then fly back. I don’t want you missing out on things on my account. But I would like you to see it since you knew my family. And if I end up selling it, or something, at least you can say you’ve been there to say goodbye.”

Viv heard his words and glanced at Carlos who stared back. The adults knew the story, and watched them trade silent remarks back and forth with their eyes and facial expressions.

“I would like to go,” Viv finally said. “But I don’t want to leave Diana and Adam. He’s barely a month old.”

“Oh, Mama, don’t be silly,” Diana said. Diana Villiers Stephanopolous Kensington was the eldest grandchild, and at twenty-nine had finally given birth to her first child. She and Charles had quietly married at Christmas in a small ceremony, making it all legal before their son had come. She’d been on a break from modelling since November, and planned to move her life in a new direction once she turned thirty. Now that she had a husband and child, she was able to sit at the adults’ table when there was room. “We’ll be just fine for a couple of weeks. We’ve got Grandma and Aunt Angie to help, along with his cousins, and I’m not working yet, so you can take time out and go to Spain. We’ll be fine. In fact, I wish we could go to Spain. It’s been quite some time since I visited.”

“Are you sure?” Viv fretted. “I don’t want to miss a single minute with Adam. Everything’s come too late for me. I’m seventy-one for goodness sakes, and just become a grandmother. I want to live and see and breathe every moment with you both.”

Diana smiled, mildly amused. “We’ll be here when you get back. You can’t stop living your life because your grandchildren start coming along.”

“I know, I know,” Viv told her. “But I’ve had a full life and lived so much. I’m old, and I don’t know how long I have left, and I want to spend every moment with my grandbaby while I can.”

“Mama,” Diana chastised. “You are not old, and Adam will be here when you get back. It’s only a week or two.”

“I know, but even a week seems too long,” Viv replied. “It just seems like yesterday I was having you, and you were in my arms and I didn’t let you go.” Smiling at the memories, she lovingly looked at her daughter, the spitting image of her when she was that age. “You were such an amazing baby. Vocal like your father, but a beautiful, amazing baby, and I was so proud and happy to have you.”

“Aw, Mama, that’s so sweet, but really, go to Spain and put your burdens to rest,” Diana told her, squeezing her hand. “Go. To. Spain!”

Viv sighed. “I want to…I do, but—”

“Go. To. Spain,” Diana repeated.

“Oh.” Blushing, Viv gazed down at her grandson and knew he’d be fine with all of the family to look after him and Diana. “All right.”

*****

Tony and the Stephanopouloses stepped off the family’s private jet into the beautiful spring air of Madrid. It was the first week of May, and only two days after they’d decided to come. In a flurry of packing, getting their passports and legal papers together, they had flown in for a one to two-week stay. After booking two cars at the airport rental depot, and consulting maps, they were on their way north-west. They could take the highway straight to the town where Stephano had built his luxury escape. Because Madrid was inland and not near the beach, he’d wanted a water view, and found it in Manzanares el Real.

An hour later they made their way up the winding driveway of the estate and pulled to a stop in the circular driveway. Tony didn’t want to pull up to the door because he knew his grandmother had thrown herself from the turret on the left and landed in the driveway. He didn’t want to drive over her. Parking under shady trees, Tony and Cabot alighted and stood staring while Carlos, Viv and Antonio pulled in behind, shaded from the midday sun.

“Oh,” Viv murmured. “Just as I remember it.” Her eyes took in every detail of the palatial three storey home. A beautiful marble statue of a bull and bullfighter surrounded by a fountain stood proudly in front of the home surrounded by the circular drive. It represented Stephano at the height of his bullfighting career. The home was a light terracotta colour with dark wood beams holding up the front entrance way and each floor’s balconies. The turret, which was an old bell tower, was to their left on the corner. That was where Connie had thrown herself from to land on the cobblestone steps and driveway. The trees were thick and lush and surrounded them and the house, with its terraces along each side. It was imposing, beautiful, forbidding…and haunted.

“Tony,” Cabot muttered standing by his lover’s side. He saw the pain etched on his face as well as his parents’, and his heart went out to all of them.

“She died here,” Tony barely said. “She died here.” He was trying to figure out exactly where his grandmother would have landed after throwing herself from the turret. Slowly moving towards the spot, he stood where he thought she would have fallen, and felt an icy chill move up his spine. “Grandma?” he whispered and closed his eyes for a moment.

The others had wandered after him and stood silently by. Viv made the cross symbol even though she wasn’t religious, and Carlos squeezed his eyes shut at the pain he’d caused by not telling Connie about her husband.

Antonio stood back, having his own weird feelings. The man who’d shot himself in the office was the man he was named after. As if that didn’t have its own burdens.

Tony shuddered. “Is…this where…?” He let it trail off.

“Possibly,” Carlos replied quietly. “We never saw photos, never knew exactly where.” His breath was being forced out of him by his chest constricting, and his chest was constricting because of his guilt.

A long whoosh of air left Tony. “Well, we’ll have to do something. A small ceremony, light some candles, throw flowers. Something.”

“We will,” Cabot murmured, standing beside him and rubbing his back. “We will.”

“But for now,” Tony breathed in and let out a sigh, “Let me show you my family’s villa; one only the wealthy, or hard working, could afford. It’s called Mi Amor Mi Corazon. That’s Spanish for my love my heart.” He flashed a small smile at Cabot, who blushed, then led them to the shaded front entrance and pulled the key from his pocket. “My grandfather clearly wanted the best his money could afford, and he found this place and restored it. It brought a lot of money to the community when he did that. He used the companies from the local town so everyone could make money. The estate agent told me it took exactly one year to do.” He opened the door and ushered them into the cool darkness.

“Oh…it’s just how I remember it,” Viv said, eagerly looking around. “Beautiful, cool, very Spanish.”

“Well, I’ve only been here once.” Tony shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, and stood beside them as they all looked at the imposing dark wood accents and furniture, and deep terracotta floor tiles. The staircase moved up the centre of the house across all three floors, making the entrance way huge. Hallways on either side led to the back of the house, and there were rooms off the entrance and hallways.

“It looks exactly the same as when I visited in the ’70s,” Viv replied. “Nothing has changed, and I like that. But it’s also…a little creepy. As if I’ve been transported back in time.” She gazed around and smiled at the melancholic memories. “Connie would come waltzing down the stairs and welcome you into her home and party. And her parties were extravagant. Lots of models, TV stars, movie stars, directors, producers, musicians, other bullfighters. The parties would take up the whole house, and only those of us who were their best friends got to stay in a guest room on the first floor. Connie and Stephano, along with Antonio, had the second floor. Their bedroom had the bell tower attached.” She breathed in shakily and looked at her future son-in-law with tear-filled eyes. “I am so sorry.”

He smiled sadly. “Thank you, Mrs S. I think your stories will help fill a hole in me. I have no idea about their life before me. I had never been here until five years ago. I never grew up here, never visited, so I have nothing of them. Have heard nothing about them. So your stories will be most helpful. Let me show you around.” He led them to the left side of the house that contained an impressive formal lounge room which moved into an even more impressive dining room followed by a kitchen. Stairs led down to an open and spacious living/lounge/party area that ran across the whole length of the house, with several seating and eating areas, and floor-to-ceiling windows and bi-fold doors leading to a terrace covered in vines for shade. A huge barbeque and eating area was to the right, and a lounge area to the left. Marble statues and railings ran around the terrace which led down another level to the pool, which had an image of a bull and bullfighter on the bottom in coloured tiles. Down below that was another level of lawn, and in the near distance, the picturesque lake that Manzanares el Real sat on. Trees surrounded the estate all burgeoning with green leafy branches. Olive, lemon, and orange trees grew off to the right, with several buildings way behind them on the level of the pool and lawn. A forest grew to the left.

“Wow.” Cabot stared open-mouthed. “This is…”

“Beautiful,” Antonio finished, gobsmacked by what he saw.

“And it’s still as breathtaking as ever,” Viv added, and more memories came flooding back. “The times we partied out here, it’s still exactly the same.”

“I…am impressed,” Carlos muttered as his eyes took everything in. “Antonio never mentioned growing up in a place like this. He used to talk more about his parents' separation than anything, except for how many girls he could get.”

“I guess my grandparents’ separation had an effect on him,” Tony said and gazed over the view. “But this place is beautiful.”

Viv felt the rumblings inside her and her body started to collapse. She grasped the marble railing in front as they stood overlooking the pool and its stunning picture inlay.

“Viv.” Carlos quickly grabbed her. “You okay?”

“Mama.” The twins dashed forward.

“No,” she barely whispered, choking back the tears. “Too many memories.”

Carlos picked her up as she fully collapsed and carried her to a lounge on the terrace.

“I’ll get some water.” Tony ran inside and found the fridge fully stocked, so he brought out a glass of chilled juice instead, and saw the family crowding around in worry. “The fridge is full of food. Maybe you need to eat something. It’s quite warm today.”

Sipping the chilled juice, she felt better. “Maybe. It’s just…” Her mind wandered off. “So many memories…”

Carlos was beside her, a protective arm around her shaking shoulders, a hand on the glass that she couldn’t keep a hold of. “It’s too much of a shock.”

“Yes,” she murmured, seeing the concerned expressions on her sons’ and husband’s faces. The boys were kneeling before her, rubbing her wrists to get her blood going. “The house, the grounds, it’s all exactly the same, as if I’m still in the ’70s. The furnishings, the furniture placement. Nothing has changed in thirty years.”

“Probably how my family wanted it,” Tony said from a nearby chair. Leaning forward, he looked on in concern. “The house had been shut up except for an occasional cleaner, gardener and maintenance crew that kept it from falling apart until I inherited it. It sat with no one in it until then, when it started being rented out. Their graves are never mentioned for fear of graverobbers. I’m surprised it hasn’t been broken into in all these years.”

“Maybe people are too scared to,” Antonio said as his eyes darted around. “There’s a feeling.” Seeing his mother was better, he got to his feet and sat on the couch arm.

“Yes, there is,” Tony agreed. “I felt it the last time I was here; I feel it now. Spirits at unrest. Waiting…” His eyes flicked over to the forest, dense and lush and green. It was calling to him…

“I think we should eat because I’m starving,” Cabot said, trying to lighten the mood. “We can have a nice lunch, and then empty out the vault this afternoon to get that over and done with.”

“The vault’s in the office,” Tony told him, dread creeping into his stomach. “Where Dad…”

“We’ll be there with you, Tony,” Viv said, feeling much better. “You have us here to help you. We can air the office out, and get some fresh air in there. That might help. And I’m sure that if Antonio is still here, he’d want you to get the things from the vault, so you have to go in. The boys can carry everything out and put it in the back living area, and once it’s cleared out, you can lock it up and never set foot back in that room.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I guess…it’s just…that room feels cold. Like…he’s…”

“Still there,” Carlos finished, his heart on the verge of breaking for the billionth time in twenty-seven years.

“Yeah.” Tony shook his head. “I can’t think about it now. Why don’t us boys get our luggage and put the cars away, and maybe, if you don’t mind, Mrs S, you and Mr S could whip up some lunch.”

Viv smiled indulgently. “Of course we can. It’s the least we can do since you’ve let us stay here.” While she and Carlos went to prepare lunch, the boys gathered the luggage and Tony gave them a room each on the first floor. They put the cars in the garage on the pool level, and walked up through the back of the house, just as Carlos set a huge tray of food on the terrace table.

“I thought we’d eat out here.” Viv carried out a jug of icy drink and glasses and set them on the table. “Antonio, can you run in for the plates? They’re on a tray in the kitchen.”

Antonio retrieved the tray, and they sat down to filling sandwiches full of succulent meats, cheeses, and salad vegetables. Dessert was berry flavoured yoghurts and ice cream. Once they were sated, talk turned once more to the office.

“I really don’t want to go in there,” Tony said. “It’s cold and creepy.”

“Did anything happen when you went in with the estate agent?” Antonio asked, sipping his lemon drink.

“No.” Tony shook his head as he thought back. “It just felt cold and weird. He certainly didn’t tell me my father had shot himself in that room. He didn’t even tell me how Grandma and Grandpa had died. I didn’t find that out until your parents’ anniversary last year.” Looking at his future in-laws, he added, “No one had ever told me until that day. Mum didn’t know, and the lawyer and estate agents either didn’t know, or wouldn’t tell me, but you’d think after all those years, one of them would have said something. But no, no one did. Until I met the two of you.”

The guilt settled over Carlos like a thick smothering blanket. “I really wish I could have done something to prevent this, Tony. You don’t deserve to lose all of your family within three months of each other. And through their own hand. That’s not fair on you.”

“What could you have done?” Tony asked. “From all account of things, they were headstrong people who did what they wanted and to hell with anyone else, regardless of who that person was. If me being alive couldn’t stop my father killing himself, or my grandmother killing herself, then what could you have done?” The pain had eaten away at him since he’d heard the story.

“I don’t know.” Carlos resigned himself to it. “I could have called more. Wrote more. We had the odd letter from Connie about you. But we basically lost touch after the wedding. I didn’t see your father again, and I didn’t see your grandmother since just before that. I guess we all got busy. Us in New York, your father in England with your mother and you. At least you had that time. At least you have photos. I don’t even have that except for the wedding video. Oh, God.” Sighing, he sat back in his chair. “I really wish I could have done something.”

“Unless you knew what my grandfather was up to and did nothing about it, I have no idea what you could have done,” Tony told him. “So please, stop feeling guilty.” Standing, he cleared the dishes, and only Cabot and Antonio saw the guilt-riddled look their parents gave each other.

“You two okay?” Cabot asked as he placed glasses on the drinks tray.

“We could have done something,” Carlos whispered before shoving his chair back and taking off down the stairs that led to the pool and lawn.

“He really shouldn’t feel guilty,” Tony said to Viv as she stood to follow. “It’s not his fault.”

“That doesn’t stop it, though,” Viv tearily said and dashed after her husband.

With a sigh, Antonio got to his feet. “Guess we’re on clean-up duty.” He eyed his brother and gathered the plates and cutlery that was left, and each carried a tray into the kitchen and cleaned up.

“I need to freshen up,” Cabot said as he hung the tea towel up. “Back in a minute.” He walked out of the room and Tony followed. They went up to the bathroom and Cabot took a leak while Tony pulled the family album and a few photos from his bag. They were all he had of his father with him and his mother. And one photo had another couple, a dark curly-haired older woman, and a silver-grey distinguished man he knew to be his grandparents. It was taken on his second birthday.

“What’ch’ya lookin’ at?” Cabot came up and slid his arms around Tony’s waist. “Is that you?”

“Yeah. My second birthday. These are my grandparents, Connie and Stephano DeLuca. And this one,” he shuffled the pack, “is my dad.” He showed Cabot an old Polaroid of him, his father and mother.

“Wow, you look so much like him.” Cabot gently took the photo and peered closely at it. “They looked happy.”

“Yeah, Mum said they were,” Tony said. “They met in Mykonos and he followed her, moving to London after your parents’ wedding. They had nearly three years together. Mum said she was so happy. And then when he found out about his father, he told her he had to go home. She understood, but he…never came back. And that she didn’t understand. The estate paid for child support and an allowance that she got, but it didn’t make up for the fact he was dead and I didn’t have my father.”

“Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry.” Cabot handed the photo back and wrapped his arms around his lover. He couldn’t imagine losing his parents, let alone a partner or child. Not that he’d be having one now. Not being HIV positive. “I’m so sorry, Tony.”

“So am I,” Tony murmured, staring solemnly at the photo. “So am I.”

“I’ll leave you to freshen up,” Cabot said, kissing him on the cheek. “Take your time if you need to. I’ll go and find Antonio.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.” Tony watched the door close behind Cabot and burst into tears.

“Antonio,” Cabot called as he wandered downstairs and back out to the terrace. He found his brother looking down over the balcony at something. “Hey, Tone, what’ch’ya lookin’ at?” He got to the railing. “Hey, it’s Mama and Papa. We should go—”

Antonio’s hand snaked out and grabbed Cabot’s arm. “Leave them, they need space.” He pulled Cabot back beside him, his eyes never leaving his parents.

“What do you mean they need space?” Cabot frowned, puzzled by Antonio’s words. He gazed down to the lawn, following Antonio’s intense stare, and saw his father hunched over, head in hands, and his mother comforting him. They were sitting on a marble bench by the pool. “What’s going on?”

“He’s angry because he’s full of guilt,” Antonio muttered, his eyes boring into his parents’ backs. “Did you see the way he was behaving before? The look he and Mama gave each other when Tony said that unless they knew what his grandfather was up to and did nothing. The guilt was all over Papa’s face.”

“But what could he have done?” Cabot asked, leaning close to his brother as they stared down at their parents.

“Called, written,” Antonio said. “If they knew they could have done something.”

“But if they weren’t listened to, or believed?” Cabot went on. “If Tony’s family were as headstrong as he said, why would they listen to what Papa had to say?”

“I don’t know,” Antonio replied. “I don’t know, Cabot. Even if he knew something and called up, or wrote a letter, that would be no guarantee Connie, or Antonio, would have listened. But at least he would have tried.”

“And then he’d feel guilty for not trying hard enough,” Cabot said, watching his father wipe his face and his mother rub his back.

“He already feels that guilt. He didn’t try hard enough. I wonder who stopped him?” Antonio muttered more to himself.

“Stopped him from what?” Cabot asked, curious as to why his brother was so fascinated by it all.

“Stopped him from telling Connie and Antonio,” Antonio replied. It was weird talking about a man he was named after and had never met. And he was now in his house with his son of the same name.

“Who said anyone did?” Cabot murmured, glancing over his shoulder for Tony. “Who said anyone stopped him from telling them? But what I want to know is, how did they find out he was gay and had AIDS in the first place. I’ve seen the letter that Harry DeVille sent to Mama and Papa. Tony showed me. He told them Stephano had cancer and STDs and passed them on to Connie. And that he had been found up the ass of his male toy boy. But there was nothing about HIV or AIDS in that letter.”

“Someone had to’ve stopped them.” Antonio frowned at the question. “They must have found out in New York before 1980 when he died, and they were sent the letter. They must have known what he was doing to pass it on to his wife. Papa knew Connie intimately and took her money for it. Why didn’t he call, or write? He should have told her if he knew, but he didn’t, and that meant someone stopped him. And Mama knows all about it.”

“All about what?” Tony asked from behind them. He’d seen them huddled together and staring over the balcony as he’d walked outside, and wondered what was so interesting.

The boys jumped and spun around. “Ah, Tony, you scared us.” Cabot held a hand to his thumping chest.

“Sorry.” Tony smiled at his lover. “Knows all about what?” he repeated, wondering what secrets they were keeping.

“The house and your family,” Antonio covered for them. “Mama must know all about this house with the times she’s been here. And can probably tell you a lot more about your grandmother.”

“Yes, I hope so.” Tony stepped over to the railing, stood between the twins to separate them as he still had a bit of jealousy at their closeness, slid his arm around Cabot’s shoulders, and stared down at Carlos and Viv, watching them stand and stare across the view. “She must have some wonderful stories to tell.”

“Oh, Viv, I don’t know how much longer I can keep it in for,” Carlos quietly wailed to his wife. “I feel so much guilt. Even now.”

“Oh, Carlos,” Viv murmured as she rubbed his back. “I feel guilty, too. I didn’t expect Connie to ever kill herself. She and Harriet and I always had parties, and happy times, in the clubs and at their homes. I never saw any reason, or behaviour, to suspect she’d ever kill herself.”

“Until she found out her dead husband was riddled with cancer and sexually transmitted diseases,” Carlos muttered. “What in fuck’s name would that have done to her?” Running a hand through his hair, he heaved a sigh from the pit of his stomach. “I cannot believe the guilt I still feel. It’s just as powerful as the day Harry’s letter arrived and we read it.” Slumping onto the railing in front of him, he leaned heavily on his arms. “I can’t believe how heavy it feels after all these years.”

“If you told Tony, would that alleviate your guilt?” Viv asked. “Would telling him you knew about his grandfather and didn’t warn Connie make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.” He stared down at the bushy land below them and followed it out to the lake. So calm, so peaceful. Unlike the guilt in his gut.

“If you had warned Connie, and she laughed in your face, would you feel better knowing you’d tried?”

“Yes.” He looked at her. “That’s my guilt, Viv. The fact that I knew and didn’t even try to warn her.”

“If Tony had never walked into our lives, how would your guilt feel?”

He thought a moment. “Not as heavy.”

“Well, all I can say is, that we’re here, and maybe it’s time to alleviate your guilt.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Talk to them, tell them you’re sorry for never contacting them. Never telling them. If their spirits are still around, they may hear you.”

“But at the end of the day, they’re still dead, and Tony’s without a father and grandmother because I said nothing,” Carlos reminded her. Standing, he sighed. “I have no idea if my guilt will ever be alleviated unless I get it out in the open.”

“Does that mean telling Tony?” she asked.

Carlos pondered for a moment. “Maybe.”

After trudging back upstairs, they sat on the terrace and talked, deciding it was best to clean out the vault that afternoon to get it over and done with.

“I’ll open the curtains and window to let light and air in,” Viv said. “You open the vault, and then we’ll pass it all out to the boys who can put it down in the living room for you to sort through. Once done, we’ll lock it up again.”

“I don’t know, Mrs S.” Tony breathed in and let it out slowly to calm himself. “Just knowing it’s where he…” Choking, his hand flew to his mouth, and he glanced at the second floor. “The office is between their bedrooms on the second floor. I don’t know if I can…”

“The estate agent, or lawyer, whoever it was that came here with you, had no problem taking you up there,” Cabot said, warily eyeing the curtain covered windows. “Do visitors not use that room?”

“No one uses those rooms,” Tony said. “That was the one thing I specifically requested. That those rooms are not used during rental season. The other was that everything be kept intact. That’s why my grandfather’s costumes and accolades are in glass cases in the entertainment room. It extends down the other side of the house off the hall and entrance. We haven’t been in there yet.”

“Well, why don’t we start there?” Viv suggested. “We can work up to the top floor and you can show us the history of your family.”

He nodded and swiped a hand over his face to remove his tears. “Okay, Mrs S, good idea.” Leading them inside, he showed off glass case after glass case of his grandfather’s matador costumes. There were ten in total, five down each side of the three-room entertainment suite. In between sat glass cases of photographs, awards, accolades, plaques, the key to the city, and newspaper clippings. It was a real archival room.

“Wow, Tony, all of this is awesome.” Cabot’s eyes were wide to take everything in. “It’s like a museum.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmured, looking at one costume and reading the plaque at the bottom. “A real museum that I never grew up in. Never got to see. Never got to know. But my father did. Mum said he told her all about his life here, and planned on bringing me here one day so I could see it. But obviously, that didn’t happen.” Sadness washed over him, and a lone tear trickled down his cheek. “He could’ve chosen to come home to me and Mum. Be a family, raise me, maybe give me brothers and sisters. Brought us here to live and grow up like he did. But he didn’t. He chose to leave us instead.”

“Oh, Tony.” Viv slid an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry until it makes it okay.”

“It will never be okay, Mrs S,” he replied, looking forlornly up from the plaque. “It will never be okay.”

“No,” she agreed. “I guess it never will be. Not for you.” Taking a breath, she added, “Why don’t we move on? This room is just as I remember it, always about Stephano DeLuca. A display of his prowess in the ring. Just like that bull fountain out the front, and the image in the bottom of the pool. It was always about him. Never about his wife or son. Just about him.” She glanced around at the large portraits and advertising posters from his old fights. The room was all about Stephano and Stephano alone. Back then it was magnificent. Now, it was just smothering.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” Viv led the family out into the hall, and they walked upstairs where Tony showed her and Carlos their room for the duration of their stay.

“Oh, my goodness.” She laughed lightly. “It’s the same room Connie used to give me when I came and nothing has changed.” The huge four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room against the wall opposite the door, with an armoire on either side. A small bathroom was through the door on the left, and the windows sat to the right, overlooking the terrace, pool, and lake views. “She always wanted me to have the room right below hers. And it still looks the same.” Running her fingers along the cupboard beside the door, she wandered over to the window. “The view was always beautiful. Especially in summer and spring. The breeze wafted across the water and up the hill to the house. It was magnificent. You know there’s fountain spouts in the pool?” Viv turned to her family. “At least there used to be in the ’70s. Connie and I went skinny dipping one night when Stephano and Antonio weren’t home. We put the fountains on, drank champagne, and swam naked.”

“Viv!” Carlos raised a brow. “You saucy minx.”

“Ew, Mama, no.” Cabot screwed up his face and covered his ears.

Antonio stood by looking mildly amused, used to the dramatics of the family.

“Way to go, Mrs S.” Tony grinned, then it slipped away. “They’d all be alive today. My father and grandmother if she didn’t contract…”

“Antonio would be a few years older than me,” Carlos reminisced. “Your grandmother would be in her eighties.”

“And probably still skinny dipping,” Viv said. “That was Connie. Colombian through and through. Loved to party, loved to love, loved to have it all.” The burning anger slowly rose from the pit of her stomach. “She loved to do so much, why she would be bothered killing herself over that lecherous asshole, Stephano…” The anger made its way up her insides. “Why would she throw away her life on that no good son of a bitch?” The anger rose to her heart. “You stupid bloody woman! Have you got the keys, Tony?” The anger seethed within her and needed to come out.

“Ah, yes, Mrs S.” He pulled a keyring from his pocket and displayed the three old-fashioned keys with big initials on top. “S for Stephano, A for Antonio, and O for office. There are others, but they’re of no consequence.”

“Give them to me. We’re going up.” Viv snatched the keys and stormed upstairs. “Connie, you bloody idiot. Are you here?” she yelled and inserted the key, cranking it to the left, and pushing open the huge wooden door to their bedroom.

“Viv?” Carlos asked from behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Connie,” Viv screamed, fists clenched by her side, her anger spewing forth. “You bitch! Where are you? How dare you do this to us.” Storming around the room, she flung open the curtains and windows to reveal a massive bedroom with an equally massive four-poster bed, and a bathtub under the window overlooking the front courtyard. She flung her arms out. “Connie, you come out here now and explain to us how you could do this to us. I’m waiting, Connie.” Frenetically moving around the room, she saw everything was pristine. “How dare you leave your grandson. How dare you leave me.” Her fist pummelled pillows on the bed and small spots of dust danced in the daylight filtering into the room. “And you were so goddamn gutless you had to throw yourself out of the fucking bell tower, you selfish, self-centred woman. You killed yourself over your stupid ass husband and left your only son and grandson alone. All because of Stephano fucking DeLuca.” Pointing her finger, she stabbed it at an imaginary Connie. “You took your life for a sorry ass asshole like him. You stupid bloody woman.” Twirling, she hurried past four stunned faces and across the dark wood landing to Antonio’s door. Opening it, she did the same as his mother’s room. Flung open the curtains and windows. “You selfish gutless coward, Antonio Stephano DeLuca. You selfish gutless coward. You left your son and wife to be with your dead mother and father. How stupid, idiotic, moronic, gutless, selfish could you fucking be?”

Once more four stunned faces watched her storm around the room, and Tony was in tears with Cabot comforting him.

Carlos’s own anger was seething, and he wished he could do what Viv was doing. But something held him back. His guilt, maybe.