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LARK

B efore I even heard the knock on the bedroom door, I knew from the sound of someone coming up the stairs, then down the hallway, that it was Alessandro. I also knew his reason for looking for me. “Time to leave,” he’d say, barking it like an order I was supposed to follow without question, opinion, or disagreement. Even if I had a good reason, he’d be unwilling to listen. It was exactly what Gram had warned me about.

Castellanos were all about control.

“Lark?” I heard him say in a tone of voice that was obviously meant to manipulate me into agreeing to leave my home and take Gram with me. Just like it had been last night, when he pretended to be interested in making Matcha. When I fell for his lines, especially after he played the most powerful card of all—how would I feel if something happened to my grandmother? He’d even used the name I called her, as if that would make him seem more human.

“Lark?” he said again. “Please listen.”

I folded my arms and raised my chin, not that he could see me do either. Thankfully, when I’d raced in here, I had the presence of mind to lock the door. I wondered how long it would take before he tried to open it. I was surprised he hadn’t already.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel controlled or disrespected. I just—” His voice cracked. “I can’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

I rolled my eyes. Did he truly think I’d believe he cared about two women he hardly knew? More manipulation. That was all it was.

“I know what it’s like to lose family.” The words spilled out, his control crumbling. “My mother vanished when I was young. Vincent said she was safe, but…” His voice cracked again, and when he spoke his next words, it sounded shaky. Like he was overcome by emotion. “I never believed him. I never stopped looking. You may not believe me, but…”

I walked over to the door, put my back against it, and slid to the floor. “But what?”

“I felt something the first time I saw you. It’s why I kept coming back.” He chuckled, although not in a laughing way. “You didn’t even know I existed. I was just another man in line, waiting to order?—”

“I saw you.”

“Could you feel it?”

If I denied I had, I’d be lying, so I shook my head, not that he could see me.

“It’s why I kept coming back. If my life had been different, if I hadn’t woken up every day wondering if my brother had finally gotten wind of what I was doing, if that would be the day he’d…”

He didn’t have to say the words for me to know what he meant. If that would be the day he’d die.

“It’s why I didn’t ask you out. Ask if I could get to know you. I wanted to more than you’ll ever know. But it was fear for your safety that held me back.” The sound of his voice changed. Rather than coming from above me, it was right behind me.

“Your grandmother is an extension of you, Lark. If anything happened to her because of my family, it would be the same as if it happened to you, a person I need to protect. It isn’t a want. I need to. Do you understand the difference?”

“I do,” I whispered.

“I long for the day when this is over, when my brother is in prison, when the Castellano crime family no longer has any power, when I can live my life without constantly looking over my shoulder. Maybe I’m a fool to think that’s possible. I just pray it is. Do you know why?”

He waited as if he expected me to answer, but I couldn’t. My voice was too clogged with emotion.

“Because then, I’ll be able to spend an afternoon at a cafe with you, talking the hours away, learning about your hopes and dreams, what makes you smile, even what makes you cry. I’ll be able to hold your hand as we walk down any street we want to, whether it’s here in Gloversville, in Manhattan, or in Florence, Italy.”

My eyes opened wide. How did he know? I’d never told anyone that, out of everywhere in the world, that was where I wanted to travel the most. Florence.

“Tomorrow, I have to be in the city for the start of my brother’s trial, and that means I can’t be here, watching out for you. If I could be in two places at once, if I had the choice of where I’d rather be, I’d choose here. But I can’t. However, I know Admiral and Grit and the rest of the K19 team will keep you safe. Not just you; your grandmother too.”

He hesitated again, but I still didn’t speak.

“Please let them keep you safe, Lark. I’m begging you. Whatever it takes, even if an armored truck needs to bring you back and forth from Canada Lake to Gloversville so you can open your shop, I’ll make sure it happens. I don’t like it, but the only reason I don’t is because it means I have to rely on someone else to protect you. It isn’t about controlling you. I know it sounds like it is, but it isn’t. I swear it isn’t.”

I pushed off the floor, stood, and opened the door. When Alessandro almost fell backwards into the room, I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.

“I’m still angry,” I said.

He stood and faced me. “You have every right to be.”

“But I’ll go. For Gram’s sake.” His gaze met mine. “If you or anyone else tries to stop me from opening the shop, that will be it, Alessandro. I mean it. I won’t do another thing you ask of me.”

“I understand, and I won’t allow that to happen…”

I didn’t like the way his voice trailed off. “But?”

He shook his head. “No buts.”

“Don’t lie. There was something more.”

“I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Unless something happens to the shop? Was that it?”

He hung his head and nodded. “I did this. If I’d stayed away, they wouldn’t know…”

“You don’t think they know about Alice? Or Pershing? Or any of the other guys? I know you warned Alice. I know you showed up. They know it too.”

“But there, you can be protected, and when the trial is over, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. You and your grandmother. Anywhere. ”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here. Not as long as Gram…” Now, it was me who didn’t want to say it out loud, but as long as she was alive, Gloversville, this house, would be my home. “We should go,” I said before he could.

“What can I do to help?”

“I need to pack my things and Gram’s. She’ll need her medications from the bathroom cabinet.” There were so many other things she’d need that I didn’t know where to start. I brought my hand to my head and turned my back to Alessandro, not wanting him to see my tears, to know I was feeling sorry for myself.

When he stepped behind me, I wanted to lean against him and have him put his arms around me just for a few seconds. I wanted to experience the same feeling I had when he and I danced at the wedding.

Before I could give in to the temptation, my phone rang with a call from the florist whose business was next door to the coffee shop. I walked over to the window, as far from Alessandro as I could get in this room, and answered.

“Hey, Karen.”

“Lark! Where are you? Oh my God, your basement is flooding, and I’m afraid it’ll spill into ours.”

“What?” I gasped.

“We have everything up high, but?—”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

“The basement is flooding,” I said as I raced past him.

He stayed on my heels as I ran down the stairs.

“Stay with Mrs. Gregory,” I heard him say to Tank. “The guys are coming with me.”

I was already out the door, on my way to the driveway to get in my car, by the time he finished his sentence.

“Lark, get in!” he yelled, motioning to the SUV parked in front of our house.

Rather than waste time arguing, I climbed in the open back passenger door. After telling the guy waiting with the other SUV where we were going, he got in behind me.

As the vehicle tore through the quiet streets of Gloversville, my heart pounded, not just from the flooding crisis but from the growing certainty that this wasn’t a coincidence. Not after the threatening letters and the suspicious car.

“How old is the plumbing in that building?” Alessandro asked, eyes scrunched and brow furrowed.

“Original to when it was converted from the factory showroom.” I gripped the door handle as we took a corner. “But Gram had everything checked last spring. It was fine.”

He exchanged a look with the driver that made my stomach clench.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I snapped.

“Flooding’s a classic intimidation tactic,” he said quietly. “Damage the merchandise, make the insurance claims skyrocket, and force business owners to sell at a loss.”

“My family’s already been through that once,” I spat, though my anger wasn’t really directed at him. “We’re not going through it again.”

We pulled up to the shop just as Karen emerged from her flower store, wringing her hands. “It’s getting worse,” she called out. “I looked in the alley window. The water’s rising fast.”

Alessandro was out of the vehicle before it fully stopped, barking orders into his phone. Two more SUVs appeared, and security teams deployed with practiced efficiency. He grabbed my arm as I started for the shop’s entrance.

“Wait.” His grip was firm, but gentle. “Let them clear it first.”

“It’s my shop,” I protested, trying to pull away.

“And if someone’s waiting inside?” His dark eyes held mine. “Think about what your grandmother would say if anything happened to you.”

“You can’t keep using that tactic, Alessandro. It’s manipulative.”

He took a deep breath. “For fuck’s sake, Lark. Just let me keep you alive.”

I stopped struggling but shot him a glare that promised this conversation wasn’t over.

One of his men emerged from the shop’s entrance not more than two minutes later. “Clear inside, but the water’s up about a foot from the floor. Looks like someone tampered with the main line.”

Alessandro’s jaw clenched. “Get the utility company here. Now.” He turned to me. “What’s stored in the basement?”

“Extra inventory, old records, some of Gram’s—” My voice caught as realization hit. “Some of the original factory documents. Glove patterns, ledgers, everything we managed to save.” Items that meant nothing to most people but represented our family’s heritage, our legacy.

I broke away from him and ran inside, taking the basement stairs two at a time despite his shouting from behind me. The water was already rising. The familiar smell of coffee beans mixed with the musty scent of flooding and something else—copper?

“Lark!” Alessandro’s voice echoed from above. “Get back up here!”

“The documents are in the old safe,” I called back, wading toward the far corner, where generations of my family’s work was stored. “I have to?—”

The lights went out.

In the sudden darkness, I heard splashing behind me—someone moving toward me. Before I could turn, strong arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me off my feet.

“Let go!” I struggled against Alessandro’s grip as he carried me toward the stairs.

“The wiring’s compromised,” he growled in my ear. “The whole basement could be electrified any second.”

As if to prove his point, something sparked in the darkness, reflecting off the rising water. The smell of copper grew stronger—not rust as I’d first thought, but cut pipes.

He didn’t set me down until we reached the sidewalk outside, where emergency vehicles were already arriving. I stood helplessly, knowing that pieces of my family’s history were being destroyed with every passing second.

“The safe,” I whispered. “I’m not sure it’s waterproof. Everything inside…”

Alessandro pulled me against his chest, one hand cradling the back of my head. “I’ll get a team in there as soon as I can. Whatever can be salvaged, we’ll save.”

I should have pulled away. Should have maintained the distance I’d promised myself I’d keep from anything Castellano. Instead, I pressed my face into his shirt, breathing in the subtle scent of his cologne mixed with coffee from the shop.

“You were right,” I admitted, my voice muffled against his chest.

His arms tightened around me. “I wish I hadn’t been.”

The sound of more vehicles approaching made me lift my head. Karen stood in her doorway, eyes wide as she watched the unfolding scene. The flooding hadn’t reached her shop yet, but it was only a matter of time.

I was about to say something, but when I looked up, following Alessandro’s gaze to the familiar black sedan idling at the corner, every thought left my head.

“Get in the car,” he ordered, his voice dropping to the dangerous tone I imagined he’d used in his enforcer days. “Now.”

This time, I didn’t argue.

As we pulled away, I glanced over at him. The tenderness from moments ago was gone, replaced by something cold and deadly. For the first time, I understood why people had feared him, why they’d believed he was just like his brother.

But I’d heard the pain in his voice when he spoke of his mother and felt the gentleness in his touch as he comforted me. The question was, which version was the real Alessandro Castellano? And more importantly, which one would I be dealing with by the time this was over?