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14

ADRIANO

“ A dri…you’re snoring…” Her voice is music, singing to me in the haze.

Sun cuts into the room through the blinds.

The night before echoes through my thoughts.

Fucking spectacular.

Streaks cut the room, golden, amber, honey. It reminds me of her eyes.

Those eyes I find staring at me, her head resting on my chest.

Copper, honey, and that scent of crisp herbs and sweet cinnamon. It’s overwhelming, rousing me from my groggy, hazy fugue.

She’s right there.

And I didn’t imagine last night.

Or the reason for it.

That mood sours the moment only slightly. Nothing could spoil what we had.

Gloria is still curled up beside me, her head on my chest. Her body is so warm under the covers next to me. Especially once I feel the sensation of her skin on mine, the fact that we’re naked still.

Every bit of me wants to feel her again, take her again.

But at the same time, I want this peace to last forever.

To stay here. To not disturb the silence. Because this silence is the aftermath. The aftermath of a shift that has changed everything forever between us. At least for me.

My heart aches to think of what I felt.

What I wish I would have said last night.

I’m hopelessly in love with her. And I have no clue what to do about it.

I guess marrying her will be a lot easier now. Except for the fact that Dom orchestrated all of this. The marriage. The sex, demanding an heir.

And then there were the words exchanged between them in the hall. Something changed. Dom pulled the rug out from under her feet.

But I don’t know how.

Shifting my arm, she stirs, and I let my palm skirt down her back, feeling the curve of her along me. Tilting her head up, she looks me right in the eye, her lids still droopy and sultry in the morning light.

“Good. You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“In my dreams for one.”

“We must have traded places or taken turns. You were in mine too.”

“Cheesy.”

“No, it would be cheesy if I said my dream-come-true is lying on my chest, right next to me.”

Gloria rolls her eyes, dramatically.

But then she leans up toward me, taking my lips with hers, kissing me fully.

It blows my fucking mind the way she does that.

Every thought blasted from my head.

My body floats when her lips hit mine.

A little hum escapes her lips as she pulls away. “What time is it?”

“Way too early.”

“Or early enough to go again before we have to do anything else?”

I grab her before she can back out of the statement, kissing her and rolling her onto her back. Instantly I’m hard for her with nothing between us under the sheets. Her skin is silk, her hands so soft as she reaches down and grasps me.

“Excuse me, Miss Gloria, are you awake?” The knock at the door has us sitting up.

“Yes, Nina, we are,” Gloria says, rolling her eyes and sitting up. Covering herself with the sheet. “You may come in.”

The older woman steps inside looking a little abashed, carrying a tray full of breakfast foods and steaming coffee. Immediately my stomach starts to rumble, and Gloria gives me a look rolling her eyes again and smiling this time.

“Sounds like someone’s hungry.”

“I was hungry for something else…” I grumble so only she can hear. “But that French toast looks pretty damn good.”

“Thank you, Nina. This all looks wonderful.”

“Of course, Miss Gloria, Mr. Adriano. It’s so good to see you at the house. It hasn’t been the same since you left.” She smiles warmly. Genuinely.

“I miss you as well. I’ll be sure and come see you before I leave.”

“You are too kind. Oh, your father wanted you to come to his office. I told him you needed to eat first!”

With that, she’s gone, waving over her shoulder.

“She told Dom no?”

“Might be the only person in the world who can. Mostly because she’s in charge of his food and makes what he likes. Dom’s arrogant. Not stupid.”

I open my mouth to say something smart-assed when she swats my leg, hopping out of bed and crossing to the bathroom door to grab a robe. The view is…

“Wow.”

Gloria grins mischievously as she bundles in the soft fabric, tossing me one of my own. “Coffee, coffee…”

“She was really sweet.” I join Gloria at the little table by the window.

“Nina was one of the highlights of living here.”

Gloria sips her coffee, inhaling the steam. “So was this coffee.”

“I have an espresso maker you know?”

“I made coffee for years for other people. The last thing I want to do is play barista first thing in the morning. That’s what coffee shops are for.”

I huff, shaking my head.

Note to self, I need to make her coffee some morning and show her what it’s all about.

Aside from that, it’s unusual for her to talk about her life in Paris. Like I avoid talking about the life on the regular with her.

“I could definitely get used to this kind of spread for breakfast.”

“You’ve been gone before I wake up most days lately. What do you typically eat?”

“Coffee and … uh. Nothing?”

“Ah, the man’s man breakfast. Cigarettes and black coffee.” Gloria makes a face, trying to look mean.

“Smoking was never really my thing.”

“Well, that’s good. Just about every guy I knew smoked back home. I wouldn’t want smoking in our house.” Her expression gets thoughtful.

“Hm. You rarely talk about ‘back home.’”

“You rarely talk about…most things,” she quips, raising an eyebrow.

Tonguing the inside of my cheek I grimace at her, twitching my head as I notice something else she said. “Wait…you said ‘our house’? What does that look like exactly?”

“You’ve been there, it’s an apartment. Bachelor pad to the max. Needs work.”

“Not what I meant. Do you have somewhere else in mind for us once we’re…?”

“I mean, we could use some more space, for sure.”

“I guess.”

“Not anything crazy. I’ve always lived in tiny apartments. I simply wouldn’t mind a little?—”

“Space of your own?”

“Precisely.”

“I’m sure Dom would pony up the money for a fancy townhome if you wanted it.”

Gloria side-eyes me, pursing her lips. “I don’t want him having anything to do with where we live.”

Huh.

That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while.

Taking a final bite of a strawberry, I stretch, pushing back. “Well. Should we get this over with?”

“Our walk of shame? I suppose.”

As much as I hate to end our peaceful morning together.

It’s so rare. And that much more special for it.

Throwing on my clothes from the night before, I smooth out the wrinkles, scowling at the spatter of blood on my shirt in the mirror. Reaching up I check the scrape along my hairline.

Not too bad.

Forgot about it in the midst of…

“I’m sorry.” Gloria is staring at me from the bathroom door, looking tense. Concerned.

“It’s just a scratch.” I shrug.

I know that’s not what she meant.

The march to the foyer is silent, a little awkward. We should have talked about it.

Gone over our stories. Compared notes.

Sheesh.

There I go, compartmentalizing the night of passion we shared into a strategy. Debriefing. Analytics.

But that’s how I’ve always thought. And heading toward my boss’s office at his request always puts my head in that frame of mind.

Operations. Troop coordination. Supplies. Status reports.

Gloria glances back as she taps on the door once, waits for a response.

“Enter.” Dom’s voice sounds chipper this morning.

As soon as we step through the door he clicks off a window he was looking at on his computer, projected to the TV screen on the wall.

Of a bedroom.

The table we just ate at. A sliver of the bed we slept in.

That sick fuck.

Dom’s faint smile tells me he absolutely meant for us to see that. To let us know that he could check on us whenever he wanted to. And that he remembers exactly what happened last night.

Now the question is what we do next.

My fists clench at my sides. I want to put my fist through his smug face.

The two guards standing just outside the door would probably shoot me. But I could get a few hits in.

Dom’s eyes flash as he watches me, waiting.

“You wanted to see us, Dad?” Gloria bumps into my shoulder, breaking my concentration, distracting me from the rage boiling in my chest.

“Just wanted to make sure you slept well.”

“We slept fine.” Her tone is light. Carefree.

How the fuck does she do that?

“And how was breakfast?”

“Delicious. And filling. I take it you got your fill too?” Gloria’s head tilts toward the screen, her mouth curling just slightly.

Dom sniffs, ignoring the jab.

And just like that, they go on talking, like it never happened. Like he didn’t force us to have sex. Like he didn’t tell us he plans to take our firstborn.

My head’s going to explode.

“If there was nothing else, I need to go take care of some things.” The words are muted to my ears, my voice echoing hollow in my skull.

Gloria’s bland expression and curt smile make me want to scream.

She’s going along with this.

Why?!

“I’ll see you later?” Gloria reaches for me and I pull away.

Not even a flash of hurt in her eyes.

“Sure, sure. Go blow off steam or whatever. I’ll call you, Adriano.” Dom dismisses me, acting so casual. “Just make sure you make it home tonight to your fiancée. Have to keep up the good work!”

His laugh slaps me across the face.

Gloria’s short, stifled giggle knifes me right through the heart.

Blinding red fills my vision as I bolt from the office, down the stairs.

I can’t stand this. I can’t stand any of this bullshit after what we went through last night. After what we shared.

The roar of the engine blocks out some of the shrieking roar in my ears as I tear out of the parking lot, away from Dom’s house. Autopilot takes me around a few turns, quickly distancing myself from…

All of that.

My dream-come-true.

My nightmare.

A dozen bars slit through my thoughts, where I could go to drown my anger, mute the ache in my chest. Maybe I should head down to the docks.

Pick a fight.

“Fuck!” I slam my hand into the steering wheel, wishing with everything I have that I could talk to my brother, Alessandro.

He’d know what to say to me.

We’d play a few rounds of pool. He’d tease me, get a rise out of me.

We’d go back and forth and get in a shouting match and then hug it out.

But he’s not here.

It’s just me.

Alone.

By the time the rush of adrenaline fades, I realize I’ve parked, sitting with my head in my hands for God knows how long. Looking up I almost chuckle at where I wound up.

It’s been so long since I came to visit my parents.

Stepping out of the car, a breeze kicks up.

The sun from earlier is gone, replaced by overcast, looming clouds. It’s looking to be a rainy summer. At least it’s not too hot yet.

“Flowers?” the vendor interrupts my brooding, proffering me a bundle of vibrant blossoms.

“Uh. Yeah. Thanks.” I hand him a couple of bills, wandering through the wrought iron archway, down a path. A path the four of us used to take every Sunday when we were all here in the city.

The Diamante plot sits on a rise, tucked near the back of the cemetery.

It’s old. One of the earliest spots in the area.

An empire spanning a century under my feet. Makes you wonder…

Setting the bouquet down on my mother’s grave, I wave a cross over my chest, tradition. Habit.

How long has it been since I went to confession?

Staring at her name, my father’s name, the date, makes me think of my future with Gloria. What we are compared to them. To Alessandro and Isabella.

“Ma…what would you say? About Gloria? What does Dom have on her?”

Her eyes soften, her fingers tussle my hair. It’s the only clear memory I have of her face.

“Adri, you think too hard.”

I was nine. I hadn’t been sleeping because I wanted to help my dad and Alessandro. They always seemed stressed out. Busy.

In retrospect, I see why.

Dad was supposed to take over for Giancarlo. Was getting ready to start taking over some of the responsibilities.

He and Mom and Aless’s fiancée went on a vacation. Aless was supposed to meet them.

The boat went down in a storm.

So my great-uncle Giancarlo stayed on. Raised us. Him and Alessandro.

Then he made my brother his heir, his replacement. He retired. Aunt Eva, his wife, died.

We thought he followed her shortly after. But we found out it was Dom. And it started the series of events leading up to him swooping in, kidnapping the other elder’s kids, grandchildren.

“Did you see this coming, Uncle Gio? Did you know who Dom was all that time?”

Or was it something else?

So many times over the past several months I’ve wondered what the missing piece was, what kept Giancarlo from choosing Domenico, the man he seemed to be grooming to be don. Where Dom went when he vanished, how he got the funding he needed to take us down.

“He was a good man, your uncle. As far as mob leaders go.” The voice startles me, the presence behind me appearing without so much as a scuff of footsteps.

“He was a brutal son of a bitch, if you knew him at all,” I reply, not bothering to turn around, not giving away my surprise.

“Brutal, sure. When he got mad. Guy sure knew how to tell a joke, though. Even better storyteller.”

“If you could understand him with that accent.”

“Accent? That is what he called it. His mouth was fucked-up from bare-knuckle boxing when he was young.”

This guy’s clearly a New Yorker.

Removed for some time. DC?

“That’s why he never grinned, just smirked.” I nod, a little smile of my own pulling at my lips. “You clearly know who I am. Got me at a disadvantage.”

“Never known a Diamante to have any of those. Jim Weller.”

At that I finally glance back, the name itching at something in the back of my mind. He’s familiar somehow. Can’t place it. Bald. Weathered. Late forties, maybe fifty.

He’s absolutely a fucking cop. More likely something higher.

“Do a lot of feds come to pay respects to the people they put in the ground?”

“No. Just the ones I called friends.” Weller’s stone cold, his expression never wavering under my gaze. Still, he doesn’t seem to be a threat. Not yet.

“Pretty crazy how many of my fellows buried out here could credit your family with their headstones,” Weller muses, his tone wry.

“And how many of mine do you take credit for?” I snap back.

“Only one.”

Instantly, my hackles go up. Until I turn, really looking at the guy. He’s staring right at my Uncle’s gravestone, his eyes red, his expression sad.

Not just sad.

He’s aggrieved.

“I think we both know you aren’t responsible for that particular headstone,” I offer tentatively, curiosity getting the better of me.

“You’re right. But I hold myself responsible for mishandling the man who is. For not bringing him in when I had the chance. For failing him. For trusting him.”

“That’s a bold assumption, thinking that anyone could. Bring him in.” As long as I’ve known Dom, he’s been wily. Incredible at subterfuge. Slippery as his namesake. “Trusting him? Just plain stupid.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, Diamante. I’m not the one marrying his daughter.”

A short, humorless chuckle puffs through my lips. Bold indeed.

“If you ever even hint at threatening her…”

“I’m not a threat to your fiancée, or you. I’m a way out , just like I was for her father, your boss, once upon a time.”

“What are you saying?”

“My people are closing in. He burned us once. Stepping back into the spotlight was as good as signing his death certificate. Along with anyone who chooses to stay close to him.”

“Is that a warning? A good faith gesture?” I scoff.

“It’s just an offer. You ever wanna swap stories about Giancarlo, you hit me up, huh?”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll toast the old bastard’s health.” I nod, shouldering past Weller, down the hill.

“You ever wonder why he killed him? Giancarlo? Why he disappeared for two years before that, and why your uncle passed him over for don?”

“Spite? Revenge?” I shrug, looking back at him over my shoulder.

He huffs, looking off across the green. “You’d understand all about that, given what he did to your older brother. And yet here you are, working for him. Why? Why is Gloria Abate in the same position?”

Weller raises his eyebrows, setting his card down on a tombstone, walking down the path away from me. He doesn’t look back as he answers his own question, leaving me with dozens of my own.

“ Leverage .”