Page 71 of Vows of a Mobster

“Everything okay?” Mateo’s voice had me jump in my seat. I raised my eyes to him, surprised. His eyes were still on his own iPad, which made me wonder how he noticed anything at all. It was a warning I shouldn’t conduct anything in his presence. He was too observant, too dangerous.

“Yes,” I replied and my own voice sounded a bit strange. Was it because we haven’t spoken a word in the last thirty minutes? “Is this your place?” I asked, trying to shift the focus.

“Yes.”

Wonderful,I thought wryly.We’ll be having one-word responses.

I turned off the phone and waited as the car approached the massive house. No sooner had the car stopped, someone already opened both doors for him and myself.

As I exited the vehicle, I threw a glance at the man that opened my door. He had a holster with a gun too.

“Thank you,” I murmured, wishing I was anywhere but here. I stood motionless, the big entrance already opened, welcoming me. Except it wasn’t my home and Emma wasn’t with me. My little cottage was warm and welcoming; this mansion was cold.

I heard the engine of another car and I turned my head in its direction. It was my Jeep. The guy that drove it, parked it right behind us and went over to Mateo. It was the same guy from Marissa’s birthday party and from Mateo’s company. I couldn’t remember if he ever gave me his name. I didn’t think so.

I watched the two men speak, while I stood at the steps of Mateo’s home, unsure what the heck to do and getting agitated.

“Brianna, Luca will take you to our bedroom so you can freshen up,” Mateo barely spared me a glance. Maybe he was already tired of me. That would be a record, right? “Luca, her bag is in the Jeep. If you need anything Brianna, I will be in my office.”

Our bedroom.I glared at him, wanting to demand my own room if I was forced to stay here. I needed my own space! Instead, I kept my mouth shut. I glanced around, trying to figure out which one was Luca.

The guy that opened the door for me, strode to the Jeep, grabbed my bag from the back seat and then came back, ascending the stairs into the house.

“This way,” Luca spoke up and had me follow.

Despite myself, I threw another glance over my shoulder and caught Mateo’s eyes on me. I felt like he saw too much.I didn’t like this at all.

I scurried, following Luca through the massive house till he finally stopped after five minutes in front of the double door and opened it to a large luxurious bedroom.

“This is your bedroom,” he stated the obvious. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t my bedroom but I kept the words in.

“Thanks,” I barely got the words out.

He walked in and placed my bag on the lounge chair.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he murmured, closing the door behind him. At the loss of what to do now, I sat down on the massive bed and took the room in. It was a beautiful bright bedroom, with a separate sitting area and a desk. The bedroom was huge, large French windows covering one whole wall, the ocean view wide and unobstructed for miles. Everything about this place screamed money and power. Even the house I grew up in couldn’t compare to this estate.

I pulled my phone out. It was barely two in the afternoon. It was too early to call and talk to Emma. She was still at daycare while Marissa and Daphne were probably going crazy trying to get everything straightened out so they could stay at my place.

Just as I thought about them, a message popped up. I slid it open and a picture came through. A low laugh escaped me the moment I saw it come through our group chat. Selfie of Daphne with Marissa tied up into a carseat in the background of Daphne’s Mercedes.

I stood up and walked to the French doors and opened them, stepping out onto a balcony. I snapped a photo of the view and sent it back.

A message immediately came back and I should have known Marissa would have replied.*Pussy whipped.*

I rolled my eyes at the phone like she could see me. Glancing up at the view, I took a deep breath in. My lungs filled with the scents of the ocean, the childhood memories swarming my mind. Those rare weeks I spent with my dad and when he’d take me fishing with him. While Dad taught me how to navigate the seas, John, my stepdad, taught me to sail. Dad took me to gun ranges while John took me hunting. While I could shoot, I didn’t like guns and always ensured no animal was killed when I went hunting. I often wondered if my mother even realized how very similar the two men were. The only major difference between the two men in my life was that one was rich and the other wasn’t.

I sat down on the floor of the balcony and leaned my back against the wall. Life certainly didn’t turn out the way I imagined. I used to be goal driven, an achiever. In the past five years, I hadn’t really accomplished anything. I became a mother, then a caretaker to my grandmother, then Emma got sick and things just went downhill from there. It was as if I forgot who I was. Daphne was right, I haven’t been truly happy since I stopped dancing. I actually loved ballet, it was the constant pressure and limitations that snapped me after fifteen years of regimented routine. My mother didn’t understand the balance between a social life, school life, and dancing life. Maybe that was the reason I seem to be stupid when it came to life choices.

I felt adrift; the wrong choices haunting me. I have been scared from the moment my mother cut all her ties with me, hurt at the betrayal. I remember hoping she’d reach out when she calmed down but that day never came. Once I had Emma, it was even harder to understand my mother’s disconnection to her only daughter.

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the sound of the waves crashing against the shoreline, seagulls in the distance. It was the middle of July but it wasn’t humid or unbearably hot today. The breeze swept through the trees in the distance and it felt so tranquil. I missed Emma already although even on a regular workday, I wouldn’t see her for another few hours. I was scared of losing her.

I unlocked my phone again and pulled up the email. I copied the name and address of Kyle’s parents and pasted it into Google search. The results instantly came. I read one article, then another and then another before my heart sank. Kyle’s parents were dead.

Can’t I catch one break?

I read through various condolence messages posted on the funeral home website. They died shortly before their son died. Yeah, Kyle never had the intention of introducing Emma to his family. I was just about to clear out the search when a message caught my eye.