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10

MIRABELLA

I put the last of the dishes away before heading into the laundry room to switch the clothes into the dryer.

I am grateful for a day off. My thoughts have been a distraction at work for the last week and Magda has noticed. She’s kept quiet. Mostly. She kept her nose out of my business but did tell me I need to get away.

Maybe she is right, just like what Maria was telling me the other day. I need to have fun. Live a little. Do more than work, do house renovations, and take care of Aria. I feel the tiredness in my bones. Like I should be ten years older than my thirty-one years. I’m dragging and thoughts of Kilian only make it worse.

I sit at my computer and book a trip to Malta. It’s a short flight. And a three-day trip should help relieve the stress from my shoulders, the fear that creeps in every now and then. Cocktails and the beach are what I need.

I settle into the couch and pick up a book, falling asleep as I read.

The bell on the dryer wakes me up. I yawn and notice I slept for over an hour. I really do need a break.

I grab the laundry and bring it upstairs and start folding it on Aria’s bed.

“Mirabella.”

I jump at the voice, dropping the shirts I was folding on the ground. I turn and see my cousin in the doorway. “Dante. What are you doing here?”

He looks around the room, taking in the football trophies and the science ribbons. He studies the pictures of Aria with her team, pictures of us. “She’s so big.”

“She’s almost nine.”

“She looks just like you.”

I know he is holding back his next words, the words my uncle and cousins have always said, except for her eyes. “She is my pride and joy.”

“Hmm,” he says as he takes a seat at her desk.

“Dante, I am not going to ask again. What are you doing here?”

He flips through some of the papers on the desk. “Ezio was here not too long ago.”

“He was,” I say impassively.

“What did he want?”

I shrug. “The same as usual. Be careful. Come home to Genoa.”

Dante freezes at my words. “Why would he tell you to be careful, Mirabella?”

“You tell me,” I snap. “He said you and your father were the ones that wanted me home.”

He stands and walks over to me. I try not to move or flinch. Dante is the same age as me but his presence is domineering, intense, frightening. He pushes a piece of hair behind my ear and a slight shudder takes over my body. He smirks at me then picks up a piece of Aria’s clothing. “The thing is, I haven’t seen your brother in six months.”

“He said he was here on business with you.”

“Strange.”

I grab the shirt out of his hand and try to fold it with my shaking fingers. “If he stops by again, I’ll let you know.”

“Will you now? Just like you are going to let whatever man was here last week know?”

My face goes pale at his words. “What are you t-talking about?” I stutter.

“Who was here, Mirabella?”

I drop the shirt in my hands and walk around Dante, making my way to the door. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Then why are you trying to leave?”

“I’m not. I just forgot to switch the laundry,” I lie.

“I wouldn’t leave this room, Mirabella.”

Despite the fear this side of my family puts in me, I glance over my shoulder and snap. “You can’t control me, Dante.”

I barely make it through the threshold of the door before my uncle, Giancarlo, is in my face.

“He might not. But I do.” His tone is raw power.

I stumble back a few steps and realize I am cornered in this room. I thought last week was bad but at least then I had a knife and a gun. I have no weapons in here. Instead I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, remembering the meditation exercises I used to do when I moved here and feared for my life.

“You are a part of this family, Mirabella, whether you like it or not,” my uncle says to me in a calm but lethal voice.

“No, I’m not. The second my parents were murdered, I became an orphan.” I back up until my butt runs into Aria’s desk.

“You know that isn’t true. I became your guardian.”

“And a hell of a job you did at that,” I mutter.

He seethes at my attitude as he steps closer to me. “You listen to me, Mirabella. You are to do what I say. You’re lucky I have kept you on such a long leash, giving you more freedom than I would ever give one of my children. But as a member of the Renzetti family, a blood member, you are expected to help the family as I see fit.”

My knuckles grip the edge of the desk, knowing I am playing with fire with my next words as I stare at my uncle’s scarred face. “I don’t have to do shit.”

“Your defiance will be the death of you. And I have no trouble burying your body right next to your parents.”

I shake in rage. I am sick of this bullshit. The expectation I am supposed to commit crimes just like anyone else in this family. “My father would have been much better as the boss of the Renzetti family. He at least had compassion for his own blood. If he hadn’t died, you know grandfather would have had him take over. You just fell into the role because you were next in line. You are a tyrant, Giancarlo. Not a leader. Not a boss. You are no—”

He backhands me across the face then pulls me into him, spitting across my cheeks as he talks. “You listen to me, you weak girl. You will do as I say. Because I know your secrets. I know that you think the father of that child of yours is hidden. Some random man from a one-night stand. But I am no fool. I know who the father of that child is. And I am not afraid to use that girl against you.”

My chest deflates at his words. My heart rate picking up speed. He can’t have any idea about Kilian. No one knows he’s the father. Not even Kilian.

Rage starts to burn through my veins at the thought of him using my daughter against me. Blackmailing me to commit crimes for the family. But I won’t risk her, not my little girl with so much life in her. A life she deserves to have. “What do you need me to do?”

His devilish smile takes over his face. “First, you need to learn not to show your weaknesses, Mirabella.”

I frown at his words. A lesson my father always taught me and here I am showing firsthand that Aria is my lifeline.

“I just need an envelope dropped off to someone. I even made it easy and have it at the hotel you are staying at. Three p.m. on Friday. Cocktail bar, seaside. Third seat from the right. Set it down and keep walking.”

How the hell does he even know about my trip? I booked it this morning. “That’s it?”

He finally lets my arm go. “That’s it. Now just think if you listened in the first place, you wouldn’t have given away so many of your secrets.”

He says nothing more as he walks out of my house, my cousin right behind him. I touch my face where he hit me and feel the warm blood on my fingers. I’m sure the family ring left a nice mark on my skin.

* * *

“Are you sure you are okay with this?” I ask Magda as I drop Aria’s weekend bag in her foyer.

“Of course I am. You know she is like my granddaughter and I want to spend as much time with her as I can.”

“Yes, but she has football practice and games and—”

“And you have a flight to catch.”

I frown. I don’t know if I am worried about Aria and Magda’s safety or if I am more worried about leaving my daughter for the first time ever.

“Mom, you are acting like I’m a baby. Magda is perfectly capable of taking care of me. Besides, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

I prop my hand on my hip and stare at my daughter. “You’re eight.”

“I’m almost nine, which means I am nearly ten and only a few years from being a teenager,” Aria says with attitude.

“Uh, don’t remind me.” I squat down in front of her. “I’m just going to miss you.”

“Which is why you need a vacation, Mama,” she groans. “You need alone time.”

I push a piece of her hair behind her ear. “How did you get so smart?”

She points at herself. “Almost a teenager, remember?”

I laugh as I stand up.

Magda smiles at me. “We will be fine. You can call her every day too. It’s not like you are going silent on her.”

I fold my arms over my chest, trying not to cry. The surge of emotions I’ve been having lately is overwhelming. “I know.”

“Now scoot.” Magda pushes me toward the door. “Go enjoy your weekend away.”

I grab Aria and give her one more hug and a kiss before Magda pushes me all the way out the door.

I turn to walk down her front steps.

“Mira.” Her words stop me. Her voice fierce in a motherly way.

I turn to look at her.

“What happened to your face?”

My hand goes to the healing cut. She wasn’t at the restaurant the last two days, so she didn’t see it when it was worse. “I slipped. You know socks and tile floor don’t mix well. And one too many glasses of wine…”

“You don’t drink wine,” she says sternly.

“Sometimes I do. I guess this means I shouldn’t,” I say as I point at my face.

She steps down until we are face to face. “Mira, be careful.”

“Huh?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything more before turning around and heading inside her house.

I stand there for a few moments, confused. She couldn’t possibly know what I am doing. What has been going on. But she is observant and wise. I wouldn’t put it past her if she knew all of my secrets.