Page 12 of Sins of the Orchid

“Be nice to Dad, Grandma,” I warned her, she never even acknowledged my words as she strode out the door like the queen that she was. She really had the best last name, Regalè.

She slammed the door behind her, and a dozen curses left Dad’s lips.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” Dad grumbled under his breath. “DeAngelo is to be with you at all times.” Dad pressed a kiss on my cheek.

“You won’t regret it,” I vowed, smiling. “I’ll make sure Grandma doesn’t do anything silly and DeAngelo will be with me. Promise.”

The Russos and Dad chuckled. “Then all will be well,” Mr. Russo announced softly. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

My smile faltered a bit. It had been over three years but the loss still hurt. Profoundly so. There were times when I imagined talking to her and listening for her advice. Of course, it never came but it helped to talk.

“Now go do your homework, Amore,” Dad said, the knowing look in his eyes. He knew Mom’s death still hurt. It was a sore subject and a wound that didn’t seem to heal as fast. I worried him a lot those first few months with my nightmares. But as I got older, I learned to rein them in a bit better.

“Okay, Dad.”

He pressed another kiss onto my forehead. “Don’t stay up. I’ll be late.”

“Be careful,” I said softly. He might have been the head of the Bennetti crime family, but he wasn’t untouchable. He was a good father, and I wanted to keep him in my life.

He strode to Santino and Mr. Russo.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” I added teasingly, drawing a smile out of all three.

They left through the front door without a backward glance as I watched their backs. Taking a deep breath, I went to search for DeAngelo.

Maybe we could squeeze in an hour of self-defense training before I started on my homework.

CHAPTER4

Amore

Packing my bag for the weekend with Grandma, I couldn’t be more excited. Our first weekend together away from New York. She told me she had a bag for me already, but I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed, my phone, favorite sweater, which Adriano had gifted me, yoga pants, and, most importantly, a drawing pad for new design ideas.

The horn blasted from the driveway. Adriano’s impatience would be the death of me one day. I picked up my cell phone and typed a message.

*Don’t sit on the horn, dude! Coming.*I smiled as I pressed the send button.

I shoved a few more things into my bag, then glanced at myself in the mirror. I wore a light blue dress that came down to my knees. The back plunged into a V cut, leaving my skin exposed, but I’d pulled a little white cardigan over so Dad wouldn’t see it. Combining it with a pair of white Chanel flats, I thought I looked good. I’d look better without a cardigan, but I could easily take it off later. Regardless, I didn’t look much older, but I thought I’d pass for an eighteen-year-old at least. Adriano told me not to worry about that part, but I couldn’t help it.

I hurried out of my bedroom with the pink weekend bag hooked on my shoulder. I loved pink accessories. Unfortunately, with my hair color, I couldn’t pull off wearing pink clothes. Otherwise, I’d be in pink all the time.

“Whoa, whoa,” Lorenzo shouted after me. “Where are you rushing to?” My step faltered, and I turned around just as he caught up with me. “You look dressed up for a date.”

I smiled. Seeing Lorenzo always brought a smile on my face.

“I’m spending a long weekend with Grandma. She’s taking me to Italy,” I told him. He frowned, just as every Bennetti man did every time Grandma Regina was mentioned. “Adriano is driving me to her place.”

He took the bag off my shoulders and flipped it over on his own. “I would have driven you.”

When I expressed I wanted to learn self-defense, Lorenzo made it happen. He always took time to take me to Grandma's or for some ice cream if he sensed I felt down. It didn’t matter to him that I was sixteen and he was twenty-one; he spoke to me like we were equals.

I guess with Luigi being the oldest son, at twenty-three, Dad always kept him included in his business and by his side. Lorezno had the luxury of more freedom. Kind of like Adriano, being nineteen, had more freedom than Santino. Though the latter gave the impression of being even older than his twenty-four years.

“I know.” I leaned closer to him and whispered, “Adriano and I are stopping at his college frat party first.”

Lorenzo’s eyes darted around to ensure nobody was close by. While he understood my need to live up my teenage years, Luigi and Dad didn’t. Those two were overbearing and protective. I knew it was difficult for Dad to agree to raise me somewhat normally. But his kind of normal didn’t extend to going dancing or to any kind of parties without him.

The daughters of men in the mafia were raised under a tight leash. Arranged marriages in Cosa Nostra happened to strengthen the position of men in the underworld. I had yet to meet a woman that married for love in this world. They used women as pawns, keeping them in a controlled environment. Driven by their bodyguards, never left alone with a member of the opposite sex.