Page 60 of Cruelest Contract (Storm’s Eye Ranch)

CECILIA

M y dreams are different now. Bolder and vibrant. More immediate. They don’t disappear in the hazy seconds when my mind first shifts back to real world mode.

I often dream of Julian. With my hormones surging all over the place, I want him more than ever. I wake up breathless, desperate to feel his weight on top of me but stuck using my own fingers to resolve the unbearable ache between my legs.

Other times I dream he’s in danger but I cannot find him as I run, sobbing, through the empty rooms of this castle-sized house. I leave those dreams gasping, with a sickening chill coursing through my blood, and I seek the comfort of my weighted blanket until my thrashing heartbeat calms down.

The nights when I sleep the most peacefully are the nights when my husband is beside me. There aren’t nearly enough of those.

Dreams aren’t my problem tonight. Each time I fitfully doze off, I’m jerked awake a short time later by nothing in particular.

The weighted blanket is no comfort at all.

It bothers my skin and I throw it off. The flutter in my belly is an alert that the twins are being affected by my irritability.

I rub my hand over my stomach while taking deep breaths to settle down.

The static hum of the sound machine on the nightstand isn’t enough to drown out the sound of the blowing wind. There’s no rain, no thunder. Just wind. It finds tiny cracks in the house and bleeds through with a whistling hiss.

If I had to name the loneliest sound in the world, I’d choose this one. And when I hear it, I think of Teresa’s gravesite over the hill on this moonless night while the wind batters the unchanging stone angel as she keeps watch alone.

Morbid thoughts really don’t help with insomnia. Sitting up, I turn on the bedside lamp and check my phone. After midnight. The last message came from Alice six hours ago when she let me know she’d arrived home safely.

I loved having my best friend here. The week was full of laughter and fun and tons of eager planning for the babies.

We watched movies in my bed and ate more ice cream than should be legally permissible.

Alice rode a horse for the very first time when I coaxed her onto Luna’s back.

She was hilarious in the saddle, sitting hunched over and clutching the reins to her chest while Fort led Luna around at the slowest pace imaginable.

She sketched out a plan for the twins’ nursery and we used Julian’s bank card for an online shopping spree of baby items.

In the months I’ve spent at Storm’s Eye, I’ve grown to love the ranch and everyone on it, even the difficult Gaetano. But I can never quite forget that they are all Julian’s people. His family. His loyal allies.

With Alice around, I finally had someone who was all mine, completely and devotedly on my side.

She enjoyed her time here and joked a few times that she ought to get a teaching job in nearby Vigilance.

I was so tempted to beg her to follow through.

She cried when we hugged goodbye. I nearly did too.

I set my phone down and reach for my journal, flipping to the pages where I’ve begun making lists for all the things the twins will need.

A pressed flower falls from the middle of the book and drops into my lap.

Julian had placed the chrysanthemum in my hair the day of our honeymoon picnic.

I kept it as a souvenir. With care, I return it to an inner page of the journal.

The roses in the room are wilting. They are from an arrangement Julian sent nearly two weeks ago after I told him about the ultrasound results. Their scent has shifted from sweet to peppery as they begin to decay. I’ll throw them out tomorrow.

My eyes blur with disinterest as I page through my lists. I’m too restless to concentrate. The sight of Julian’s untouched pillow only summons a lonely twinge of desire.

He’s always made it clear that his obligations to the family are a priority. But as I run a palm over my growing belly, I’m convinced Julian and I still have a lot to sort out. I shouldn’t be nervous about telling my husband that I want him here. That I miss him.

And that I love him.

He’s never said those words. But then again, neither have I. Maybe it’s time to gather some courage and tell Julian how I feel. When he’s gone, I miss him terribly. I think about him nonstop. I want us to be so much closer.

How will he know any of this if I don’t tell him?

A sudden gurgling in my belly isn’t the twins. Pregnancy cravings strike at odd times. This morning Enzo served some marvelous orange glazed muffins and right now I’m desperately wishing I’d squirreled a few away.

I bet there are leftovers. Enzo always cooks enough for a medieval banquet.

About a month ago, the Storm’s Eye Ranch chef caught me rummaging in the huge kitchen fridge between meals.

With delight, he showed me the cupboard where he keeps the freshly baked goods and encouraged me to help myself any hour of the day or night.

Muffins and a cup of tea sound like the perfect snack right now. I tend to avoid wandering the house at night because it gives me the creeps but I have every right to go wherever I please.

Alice was a little taken aback by all the security measures around the ranch.

I have to admit, things have become more strict as the months go by.

More surveillance equipment is always being installed.

The one time I tried to take my own car to Vigilance alone, Tye jumped in the passenger seat and then a vehicle full of Mafia soldiers followed us out of the gates.

It seems I can’t leave the ranch at all anymore without being shadowed by Sonny’s men.

Nervous about the reason, I asked Tye but he simply shrugged and claimed there was no particular cause. These were just Julian’s orders.

As October deepens, the house has grown cool at night and I pull on my robe before leaving the room.

My slippers make no sound on the hallway floor.

All the doors in the hallway are closed and I have no idea if anyone else is awake.

I don’t think there are any interior security sensors and I hope I’m not wrong.

If alarms begin screeching and wake up the whole household, I’ll be mortified.

My knee has healed from the summer accident.

Swimming therapy in the new fully enclosed swimming pool has helped a lot.

But I’m still very careful and keep my hand on the banister as I slowly navigate the curvy staircase.

I’m so intent on not tripping that I’m two steps from the bottom before I hear the voices.

The blend of low murmurs is distinctly male. A sharp laugh is instantly identifiable as Tye’s.

Another voice rises above the rest, taking charge with a touch of irritation. “Are we clear on everything?”

It’s a shock to hear Julian speaking and I freeze with my hand on the polished railing. I wasn’t expecting him back for another two days. Yet he’s obviously home and I’m the last to know.

Feeling shaky as I clear the last two steps, I move in bewildered silence.

Down the hallway to the left of the foyer, the door to Cass’s study is partially open and the light is on.

I can’t see into the room but it’s obvious the Tempesta men are all gathered for a meeting in the middle of the night.

“I think we’re all on the same page,” says Cass. “What do you say, boys?”

Fort’s voice makes a comment at a volume too low for me to catch everything but I distinctly hear the name, “Grimaldi”.

“The Grimaldis are irrelevant,” Julian replies. So clear and matter-of-fact. So final and so haughty.

His declaration stings. After all, I’m still a Grimaldi. Though I feel absolutely no loyalty to my horrid grandfather, I can’t hate the name I was born to. The name my parents gave me. The name my brothers have.

I think back to my last conversation with Gabe.

The day after my ultrasound, I’d called him to excitedly share the news about the twins.

He listened without saying much and when I asked yet again when he planned to visit he didn’t really answer.

Instead, he wanted to know if I’d heard anything from my husband about a dispute over Grimaldi territory.

No, of course I hadn’t. The extent of my involvement with the family business is limited to basic financial assessments of family-owned local enterprises.

In truth, I’m not even really needed for this task.

I asked for something to do and Julian gave it to me.

Julian certainly doesn’t share any details about his tangled Mafia conquests.

Gabriel should know this already. He understands the way things are. I don’t even know what ‘Grimaldi territory’ includes beyond the vineyard and some shipping companies in San Francisco. Other than that, I’m clueless how my grandfather’s business domain ties into the Mafia.

“Never mind,” Gabe assured me in a warmer tone after a long moment of silence. “Forget I asked. Congratulations on the twins, Cici. You’ll be a great mother.”

Gabe ended the call without ever answering my question about when he plans to visit. I’m starting to believe he doesn’t intend to visit at all.

Now I’m listening to my husband declare my family to be ‘irrelevant’. I don’t know what to make of it. There’s no end to Cass Tempesta’s ambitions. Maybe there’s no end to Julian’s either.

Feeling very much like a clandestine spy, I edge closer to the door to hear better.

My heart hammers against the wall of my chest. I’m in no danger and yet I’m afraid.

A sensible corner of my mind warns me to return to my bedroom before I hear something I’d rather not hear.

Something that might shatter the tenuous illusion of my marriage.

Getty speaks up next. “Sounds like a done deal,” he says with a loud yawn. “Are we dismissed now, boss?”

“You’ll sit there until I say otherwise, Gaetano,” Cass snarls. “Your brother’s not finished talking.”

Julian clears his throat and when he speaks next, every syllable is carefully articulated, dripping with ominous significance.

“When it comes to the Grimaldis or anyone else,” he says, “the most important thing to keep in mind is that no one outside this room fucking matters. You got that, boys? No one .”

“No one,” Cass agrees.

“No one,” Julian’s brothers repeat in unison.

Meanwhile, I’ve clapped a hand over my mouth. No sound escapes. My roar of outrage is entirely silent and incredibly painful.

They couldn’t be any clearer. At least now I know better than to deceive myself about where I stand.

I’m nothing but a bit player in their family drama. A side character. Like Mel. Like Sonny. Like Miguel and Enzo and all the men who exist here at the ranch to serve a role. Never part of the inner circle.

The Tempestas are the center of the universe they’ve built, the eye of their own storm. The rest of us only exist on the periphery.

This is the truth. It’s always been the truth.

Choking back the sobs that threaten to reveal my position, I climb the stairs in a fog of heartache. I can’t scramble back into the safety of my bed fast enough but feel no comfort once I’m there.

Gradually, my heart rate slows and the threat of tears dissolves. Crying, after all, will do no good. It never does. I learned that lesson many years ago.

Half an hour passes before I hear footsteps and hushed voices in the hall. The meeting must be over. They are all returning to their rooms now. Grim and mentally sore, I roll to my side and close my eyes just as the bedroom door creaks open.

Julian takes pains to be very quiet as he shuts the door and crosses the dark room. He approaches the bed and I know he’s staring down at me. I hear him breathing and imagine his coldly blunt appraisal of his sleeping wife.

He’s convinced I’m really asleep and eventually retreats to the bathroom. When I hear the shower switch on, I finally open my eyes and stare at the strip of light under the door. My husband’s words echo back to me. The ones he spoke the day he proposed.

“As my wife, you’ll get my protection, my loyalty and my dick. I think you’ve got more intelligence than to consider this a fairy tale.”

Of course we’re not living a fairy tale. There is no such thing.

I should have reminded myself of this every day instead of getting swept up in foolish wishes and emotions.

Julian did warn me not to fall for him.

I just failed to listen.