Page 8

C ontessa

“Do you promise?” I repeat.

Trilby rolls her eyes in the phone screen. “I promise . Benito Bernadi won’t be here. I swear.”

I see more of Trilby now she’s moved in with Cristiano than I ever did when she lived at home. It’s probably because Sera has moved to the Hamptons and Bambi’s still a little too young to be flitting between the two properties. Still, I’m not complaining. Since Federico left, it’s nice to have at least one other person besides Allegra to talk to. It helps, too, that we’re a part of the same world. The girls at my dance class have no connection at all to New York’s underworld. I wish that I didn’t, but now that Trilby’s engaged to the don of the city’s biggest crime family, I don’t really have a say.

“You know, you said this last time and the guy was perched on a stool in the kitchen like it was his second home.”

“I wasn’t expecting him that day, and neither was Cristiano. But, this is kind of their second home. Those guys are always coming and going. You know how it is.”

No, I don’t actually. But it didn’t take long for Trilby to get the mafia-shaped memo. I always knew she was cut out for more than art school; I just hadn’t expected her to become prime crime wife material. But, as itchy and uneasy as it makes me, the life seems to suit her. I suppose having an unrealistically handsome and unfeasibly powerful man for a fiancé oils the wheels a little, as it were.

“So you can’t swear he won’t be there, can you?” I challenge.

She purses her lips then lets out a sigh. “I can because I know where he’s going to be instead.”

“And where’s that?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “You don’t want to know, Tess. And I’m not going to put you in any danger by telling you. Just believe me when I say Benny is going to be otherwise engaged this evening, okay?”

Benny . That name makes me want to puke more than Benito or Bernadi.

“Fine,” I say, straightening my shoulders. Then I grin. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

A few hours later, I’m lying on a sun lounger staring up at the stars, feeling pleasantly tipsy. Trilby has gone to refill our glasses when I decide I need to pee.

Instead of going through the house I take the garden route to the restroom. After relieving myself I decide to walk back through the property in search of Trilby. The kitchen is deserted but some plates of food have been laid out, presumably for me and my sister, and possibly Cristiano, because there’s no one else here.

I help myself to a bruschetta and carry it through the kitchen. Just as I’m about to pass into the hallway I hear hushed voices. Hushed male voices. I pause and peer through a gap in a door. It’s a room I haven’t seen before. Some sort of laundry room filled with closets and cleaning equipment.

I recognize one of the voices as Cristiano’s but I can’t make out what he’s saying, then a shadow leans over a faucet, releasing a shard of light from the window. It shines over the man as he washes his hands, illuminating them.

Quiet, commanding voices utter vindictive words.

Glistening red water runs onto porcelain.

Then a head turns.

Bronze eyes. Heated gaze. Unaffected.

I spin away and walk as quickly as I can back to the terrace.

Trilby is standing over my lounger, a frown buttoning her brows together. “Where did you go?”

Um, hell?

“The restroom,” I say, gathering up my things .

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” I snap, clutching my jacket and purse to my chest.

“What? Why?”

“You swore he wouldn’t be here.”

“Who, Benny?”

I hate the way she says his name, like he’s a favorite close cousin or something. “Yes, Benny ,” I reply in a patronizing tone.

“He only just got here,” she says, throwing out her arms like it’s no big deal. “And he won’t be staying…” Her voice tapers off.

“So, he only came back here to wash off the blood?”

Her face pales.

“Then he’s going to go back home to his wife, girlfriend, whatever, and they’re none the wiser he’s just murdered someone with his bare hands ?”

“We don’t know what happened.” Her voice carries a warning note.

I laugh, darkly. “Oh, we know exactly what happened. He just brutally murdered someone. No one gets that much blood on their hands unless there’s death involved.”

She puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me walking away. “C’mon, Tess. Please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

I twist toward her with a slight frown. “What are you talking about?”

She glances around at the property. “ This . This is what I’m talking about. Being part of the Di Santo family.” She rests a weary gaze on me. “A crime family.”

When I don’t respond she sits on one of the pool chairs with a thud. “This was never in my plans, you know.” She looks up at me, guiltily.

I fold my arms because it’s going to take more than a confession to compensate for the fact I’m having to share fresh air with that specific murderer .

“I hated being told this was my destiny—that I had to marry a don.”

I pout. “You don’t seem to hate it all that much now.”

Her eyelids drop and she shakes her head. “There are two reasons why I don’t hate it,” she says quietly. “One of them is obvious. Another… less so.” She glances up at me.

The way she and Cristiano seem to absolutely adore one another is the first. “What’s the other reason?”

“If I tell you this, you have to keep it to yourself, okay? I don’t want Papa, or anyone else for that matter, to feel worried or even responsible.”

“Responsible for what?”

She stares at me.

“Okay, I promise.”

“Cristiano didn’t have to become don. He could’ve returned to Vegas.”

I sit down in the chair beside her and tuck one of my ankles beneath my thigh. “So, why didn’t he?”

“Because Papa is an easy target,” she says, sadly. “ When Savero worked his way into the business to use it for his own selfish purposes, he proved it was possible. Cristiano is worried that other organized groups or opportunists might try to do the same. The only way Papa’s business will remain absolutely safe is if Cristiano himself, as don, protects it—everyone else just sees dollar signs.”

I blow out a long breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh .” She shrugs. “Cristiano didn’t want to become the don of this family, you know. Not in the beginning anyway.”

“And now?” I ask in a quiet voice.

“He… I don’t know. He fits .” Guilt returns to her features. “Augie told me Cristiano was born to do it, and I can see what he means. He leads well and his men respect him.”

I pan my gaze to the house, absorbing Trilby’s words. While I won’t ever fully support the work of this crime family, I do feel slightly less hateful toward it, knowing it’s protecting my family’s livelihood and future.

“So, yeah. I can’t promise you’ll come over here and not see any of his men or advisors, and I can’t promise you won’t ever see blood being washed off their hands. But I can promise you that while Cristiano is the boss of this family, our family is safe.”

She takes one of my hands and squeezes it. “So now I’ve given you a truth, can I ask one of you?”

I glance sideways at her, my tone wary. “Okay.”

“Why do you hate Benny so much? ”

Crap . I should’ve seen that one coming. I grit my teeth and glue my lips shut.

“Come on, Tess. Tell me.”

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

“Fine. He is the reason Federico had to move to the west coast.”

“Federico Falconi?”

“Yeah.” I twist the cotton of my dress in my fingers. “Bernadi closed down the family business, ruined their reputation. They had to leave the city for good.”

“I’m sure he had good reason—” she starts.

“His father fell back on the lease payments by one month, Trilby,” I cut in. “ One month .”

“Okay, well that does sound a little extreme,” she concedes.

“And that’s not all.” I look away because I haven’t told anyone this before.

“Go on.”

“I lost my virginity to Federico the night before he left.”

Trilby is quiet for so long I have to turn to check she’s still there. I’m relieved to see she isn’t looking back at me like I’ve made a catastrophic mistake.

“Is that bad?” she says, quietly.

“I wasn’t particularly ready to give it up,” I say with a shrug. “But he asked me to do that one last thing for him. I felt so bad he was having to leave.”

“But… you liked him, right?”

“Of course I did. I still do, even though I haven’t heard from him since he left. But if Bernadi hadn’t forced Fed and his family out of the city, I wouldn’t have felt pressured into sleeping with him.”

She rubs a hand over her face. “Well, it makes a little more sense now why you don’t like the guy. I’ll do my best to keep him away from you but, like I said, I can’t promise he won’t ever be here.”

“I know.” I sigh, then remember the other reason I sometimes lay awake at night. “Is this going to be a problem? Now that you’re marrying into the Italian mafia, isn’t the fact I’m no longer a virgin going to bring shame on the family or something?”

She laughs, then stops herself when she sees the terror on my face. “I doubt it, Tess. Spoiler alert: I’m not a virgin either.” She winks and I grin.

“Cristiano?”

She arches a brow. “Who else?” She goes to stand. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

I glance at our empty glasses. We drank the refills pretty quickly without me even noticing. “Do you think it’s safe to go inside?”

Trilby smiles. “Just head straight for the kitchen. If Benny’s still around, he’ll probably be in Cristiano’s office.”

I’m still wary as I walk into the deserted kitchen and pour out two vodkas. The place is silent, so when I turn towards the refrigerator and find a huge shadow standing between me and the door to the sodas, I scream.

Immediately, a hand covers my mouth, sending my heart up my throat and into my ear canal. “What the fuck, Tess? It’s me.”

The sound of Bernadi’s voice makes me want to scream even louder. When he doesn’t move his hand, despite my weak attempts to push him off, I bite it.

That works.

“Ow! Jesus Christ.” He yanks his hand away and stares disbelieving at the blood seeping out of his finger. “You bit me.”

I take two steps backward and hit the island. “Of course I did,” I snap. “What did you expect? You loom over me in the darkness then try to cut off my oxygen. Of course you’re going to get bitten.”

The room is dark except for the light of the full moon streaming through the garden doors but I can still see an annoyed frown covering his face.

“What were you trying to do? Kidnap me?”

He straightens and blocks out the small amount of light illuminating his features.

“Now why would I want to do that?” His tone falls somewhere between exasperated and bored.

“You had your hand over my mouth,” I say, accusingly.

“You were screaming and I didn’t want four of Cristiano’s capos to barge in here pointing their guns in our direction. I’ve seen what happens when someone wields a firearm near you.”

I plant my hands on my hips. “Why did you sneak up on me? You could have said something so I knew you were there. ”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “I didn’t see you.”

I laugh but his sudden glare shuts that down.

“You’re dressed in black and your hair is black. It’s not unfeasible that you blend into the shadows.”

“I’m as white as a blanket of snow,” I counter and pull the hem of my dress up my thighs to demonstrate the point. His gaze drops to my legs and he’s suddenly quiet. I wait for his sharp retort but it doesn’t come. Instead, the room seems to heat up by several degrees and his gaze moves slowly up my body, back to my face. A hot shiver skates down my spine and I try to cover it up by talking.

“Can I get to the refrigerator, please? I need sodas for these shots, otherwise you might find me and my sister at the bottom of the pool come morning?—”

A bottle of coke lands on the counter beside me, making me jump.

“Right.” I stare at it. “Thanks.”

He takes a step forward so I have to tip my chin up to look at him. “Do me a favor, Contessa…”

I catch a drop of blood on the sleeve of his shirt in the corner of my eye and swallow.

“Next time you acquire your own personal stalker, tell me.”

I grip the counter behind me. “I would but I don’t have any plans to enter that dive of a barbershop ever again.” I smile sweetly.

In the dim light I see one corner of his mouth twitch as though he’s amused but trying his darndest not to show it .

“You won’t need to go into the barbershop to see me. Just head upstairs.”

A strained gasp leaves my throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

His voice is low and gravely. “Just come upstairs to the office above your dance studio.”

My lungs drain of oxygen.

“What?” I repeat, the word a whisper. He can’t know what I did up there—what Fed and I did. Oh God… If Bernadi knows, Cristiano will know, and… I don’t care what Trilby might say otherwise, but this is the Italian Mafia we’re talking about. If they find out I’m not a virgin, God knows what they’ll do.

I force my voice out through my mouth. “Why would I find you above my dance studio? You gonna try and shut that down too?”

He pauses before his brow dips into a frown. “No, I’m not shutting anything down. I have a new office.”

My chest tightens as his words sink in. “In the space above my studio?”

He takes a step back, not needing to reply for me to know the answer.

“Of all the empty spaces in the city, why would you choose that one?” I hold on to the counter to steady myself.

His expression hardens. “Because it’s convenient.”

I turn my face away so he can’t see the relief flood through it. “It’s not convenient for me,” I mutter.

In a beat, he’s right up to me again, and I’m not sure how. It’s like he has some twisted superpower. Sometimes, he moves too fast for my vision to keep up .

“You think spending my days less than six feet above your head is convenient for me ?”

The sudden descent of darkness over his entire body takes my breath away.

“I—”

“You think having to keep an eye on you twenty-four-seven so you don’t end up making nice with some other stalking rapist is convenient for me?”

“He was not a r?—”

“YES. He was.” Bernadi’s sharp response stops my heart. “I was going to spare you the details but you’re starting to piss me off.” He pulls out a sheath of papers from an inside pocket of his jacket.

The angle of the light catches the curved lines of his chest, and the combination of that and his suggestion I could have been raped , has made my throat go dry.

“Here.” He shoves the papers at me. “Some bedtime reading.”

I snatch the papers from his hand. I refuse to show him how weak and powerless his words are making me feel.

“Next time you think having a fucking paid assassin holed up in the same building as you is inconvenient , I suggest you take a look at those.”

Then moonlight falls between us as he turns away. Then he stalks out of the kitchen as silently as when he arrived.