Page 8
Behind the Glass.
A s the days pass, the more restless I get. Since I brought Nera home, I’ve done nothing but watch her walk about the house in her short skirts and with that sour attitude. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be here, but it’s starting to get under my skin.
This morning was all about planning for my half-siblings to visit, and as much as I want to care, I simply don’t. I feel nothing for them. The revenge I seek isn’t only because Enzo murdered Asher, no. I have my reasons for wanting to be the one to make him suffer—deep, internalised hatred that never fucking goes away, no matter how much blood I have on my hands.
Enzo took Asher’s life in the blink of an eye in front of Nicholas, and I watched as he held his friend, his brother, as he took his last breath. I would have sacrificed myself to kill Enzo a lot earlier if it weren’t for my promise to Dante Senior, and I should have. We needed Enzo alive if we wanted to become part of the mainland again, but after what happened in London, there’s no forgiveness. The trouble he’s now caused extends beyond the borders of Italy and to those who share my blood.
I pick up the lighter, the metal heavy in my hand as I raise it to the cigarette in my mouth. It’s second nature to graze the letter on it with my thumb. The minute the flame is snuffed out, I take a long drag, the toxins crackling through my lungs, a reminder that this body is temporary.
There’s a storm passing over the island as I stand under the cover of the greenhouse, staring out into the blackness of the night, the lightning illuminating parts of the forest. It’s my favourite place, far enough from the manor and just high enough to see the majority of the island. I come here when I don’t have anywhere else left to go and especially when I need to disentangle the never-ending thoughts in my fucking head.
The door to the greenhouse opens and from where I’m standing, I can’t see who enters. It’s known to Dante and the staff at Falcon’s Keep that this has been my place of solitude for some time now, so I know it isn’t them. Intrigued, I begin walking over to the entry when her voice takes me by surprise.
“You shouldn’t smoke in a greenhouse.”
I turn to face her, the grey in her eyes every bit as powerful as the lightning outside.
“You’ve been back for five minutes and you’re already bossing me around, Principessa ?” I chuckle, purposely taking another drag and tapping the ashes onto the ground.
She purses her lips, irritated. “Don’t you have some post you have to man or whatever?”
“I’m not a watchdog.” I take a step closer to her, blowing the smoke into her face. “Shouldn’t you be up in your castle, little girl?”
She scoffs, waving her hand in the air to clear the smoke. “This is my home.”
“Just yesterday, you were saying how much you didn’t want to be here.” Her wet hair sticks to her face, her tank clinging to her body as she stands before me, making my hand twitch with the need to brush away the beads of water clinging to her chest. “Did you finally make up with your brother then?”
Her dark brows come together as she speaks with gritted teeth. “That’s none of your business.”
“He must have done something truly horrible to cause you to hate him this much.” I smile wryly, noticing that I’m getting under her skin when she snatches the cigarette from my mouth. Just when I think she’ll put it out, she takes a puff, surprising me. The sight of her with my cigarette in her mouth, her wet hair and clothes, elicits impure thoughts. Ones I shouldn’t be having for her .
“Why do you hate him so much?” I question, wondering if she’ll give me anything in return.
She hands back my cigarette and begins to wring out her long hair, the water making a stream down her collarbone, past her breast and into her pyjama shorts. My mind instantly returns to the moment she stepped out on stage in her lingerie, her smooth skin glistening under the lights and the thin strap of string between her cheeks.
Fuck.
“Well, I haven’t spoken to him since I left.” She sighs, looking out into the night. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like not to be tied to family?”
There’s a twinge in my chest at her question but I don’t show it. Instead, I take another drag, the cigarette finally coming to an end. “Is being tied to family such a bad thing?”
“Some days I wish…” She trails off, returning her eyes to mine. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”
There’s a silence as she leans back onto the stands before she speaks again. “Why are you in my father’s greenhouse?”
I take a step closer to her, invading her space so I can smell the perfume lingering on her damp skin. “You first, Principessa .”
Her hand comes dangerously close to mine as another bolt of lightning brightens the entire greenhouse, her stare not backing down. “I asked first,” she pushes, inching her fingers closer to mine, her eyes dropping to my lips.
She’s reckless…like me.
“Because I’ve spent longer in this greenhouse than you have on this island.”
She tries to hide her smile, but I see it, begging to be freed. “You see those dahlias over there?” She nods to the back of the greenhouse. “The very first batch was planted by me and my father.”
“So you ran in the rain, with your close-to-nothing outfit, at this time of night for some flowers?” I laugh, but she doesn’t.
“Your turn.” She stands, peering up at me beneath her damp lashes, her curvaceous body just inches from mine.
I clench my jaw, unwilling to divulge the reason for my being here, but the more she gazes into the depths of my soul, the more I want to give her.
“I come here because it’s the only place on this island where you can see Venus.”
“It’s storming,” she counters, making me smile at her wit. “So why are you here tonight?”
“ Sei veloce con la bocca. ”
You’re quick with your mouth.
I push off the stands and come to full height. “Maybe you’ll have a chance to figure it out.”
Grabbing the last of my restraint, I head toward the door, leaving her to stew over my words.
I haven’t seen my brothers since I left London. I’m unsure what they expect of me and I fucking hope it isn’t much because the only thing I will be doing for them is avenging Asher’s death.
It’s hard not to hold a grudge. Especially when I’ve lived such a different life to theirs. My fists tighten as I watch them all disembark the ferry, Ezra’s dark coat flapping in the sea breeze as a cigarette hangs from Nicholas’s mouth.
Expected.
What I don’t expect is to see Darcy. The wind weaving through her fiery hair, standing tall next to Nicholas, her husband, and Jackson. The only thing connecting us is a sin committed so long ago by those destined to live a life apart.
“Broody.” Nicholas looks around, the darkness of the island swallowing up what light is left by the old wharf.
“Just like you,” I sneer.
“Where’s Dante?” Ezra asks, his eyes almost morphing with the darkness of the night.
“In the manor, waiting. Follow me.”
We begin walking up to the manor, Ezra and Nicholas a few paces ahead as Jackson and Darcy walk beside me.
She slips her arm through mine. “It’s good to see you, Raf.” She smiles and I must admit, it eases my temper to see her happy with Nicholas.
“Been kicking their asses at rummy?” I ask, reminiscing about our last game.
“Did you teach her how to play?” Jackson questions.
“I wish I could take the credit.” I look at her green eyes and smile back. “But it was all her.”
We reach the gates of the manor and Nicholas scoffs. “Fuck, Raf, didn’t tell us you actually live in a castle.”
“You never asked.” I punch in the numbers on the security system and the heavy gates creak open. The less they know about me and my past, the better. I don’t need their sympathy any more than I need them in my life.
“Like something out of a thriller,” Jackson states with no emotion.
“We have rules here at Falcon’s Keep.” I keep my voice low. “Stay on the manor premises unless you’re with either me or Dante.”
“Why, got something to hide?” Nicholas smirks and I flex my hand.
“Dante and Raf have respected our wishes when they were in London. We will show them the same courtesy,” Ezra says, nodding to my request.
Turning, I open the double doors that lead to the indoor space used for events, but tonight, it has a large table in the middle. Wait staff stand by the walls and Dante sits at the head of the table. Just when I think I’ll escape Nera’s presence tonight, her heels clack on the wooden flooring behind me. As she walks past, the scent of violet and jasmine is like an assault on the remaining rational thoughts inside my head. I watch as she rounds the table, her tight black dress hugging her hips and ass, the thin, almost invisible line of her G-string resting beneath the fabric, and I wonder what it would feel like to taint her with my stained hands.
I know it’s forbidden to lust over someone like her. I know it’s unforgivable to even think about her the way I have, and it sure as fuck is a death sentence to act on it.
“Ah, my friends! Thank you for coming.” Dante stands, interrupting my thoughts as we all take a seat. Nera and I beside Dante, across from each other, Nicholas beside me, and Darcy beside Nera, with Ezra and Jackson next to Darcy. In the years I searched for my family, the years I spent trying to uncover even the smallest little detail about them, being in the same room with them now makes me feel nothing.
“I assume we’re here because there’s news on Enzo?” Ezra asks, and I clench my fists beneath the table. His authority stands in London, but not here, and he should be careful with the way he speaks.
Dante notices my reaction briefly before calling one of the waiters over, asking for a round of drinks. “I know your father stepped out of Italy to start something new in London, but mafia ties run deep in our country.”
Nicholas leans back in his chair, smiling down at his lap. “Must everyone speak in riddles? Whatever happened to just saying what you fucking want?” He looks up at Dante and my thighs hit the table when I stand abruptly.
“Raf.” Dante nods for me to sit and I reluctantly do.
“What my brother is trying to say is that there are families in Italy that have been in the mafia for generations. They have wealth beyond your comprehension, and with their reach and influence, they can be unstoppable if they make a deal with the wrong people.” Nera speaks out of turn.
“Thank you, Nera.” Dante gives her a warning look.
“So, what the fuck does that have to do with us?” Jackson asks, twiddling a fork in his hand.
“It’s not like Enzo could make friends,” Nicholas jeers, making my blood boil.
“We cannot go into this guns blazing. We need to be ready for what he might do, or worse, what he might have already done. Surely you understand, given the nine-millimetre scar on your fucking chest.” I spit my words, aimed to cut, and Nicholas grits his teeth.
“Just tell us what you know,” Ezra interrupts.
“He’s been seen with the Lucchese family,” Dante reveals and everyone at the table stills in silence, the gravity of the situation finally making sense.
“Lucchese? As in Frances and Tommy Lucchese?” Nera asks.
“Fuck,” Nicholas utters, looking at Darcy when the waiters bring out our drinks.
“So what’s the plan?” Nera’s question is directed at her brother.
“We invite them to the revelry,” I answer her.
Laughter erupts at the end of the table. Jackson’s fist hits the oak over and over as the rest of us remain silent. “That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard.” He stops when no one returns his amusement. “You can’t be serious.”
He straightens, no mirth left in his expression. “They have the power to wipe us all out. They’d do it for sport!”
“And that’s exactly why we need them on our side,” Dante says, looking back at me.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8 (Reading here)
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44