La Famiglia : Elias : Part One The diRuggiero Mafia Family Saga

by Laura Sutton

  Eli shook his head.

  “Elias, stop being childish. You are a criminal defense attorney, no one is going to bat an eye if you handle your father’s appeal. Honestly, you’re the only one I trust.” Dante sipped his scotch and leaned back in his chair.

  “I don’t see what I could even do to help. That conviction is rock solid,” Eli countered and Dante smiled again.

  “I know it is, but you’re the smartest person I know, little brother. If anyone can find something to help our father, it’s you.”

  Eli mulled over Dante’s words. Eli didn’t want his father in prison, especially not for killing the man that had murdered their mother. That didn’t mean Eli would do it, though. No, he had broken free from the family, and free he would stay.

  “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I hope Papa’s conviction is overturned, I really do, but I can’t help. Won’t.” Eli drained his drink and stood to head into the hotel.

  “I hope you change your mind. I would hate to have to change it for you.” Dante’s cool voice filled Eli with dread and he turned back to see his brother, still seated, lowball glass held with exquisite gentleness in his tattooed hand as he swirled the liquor around and around.

  “There’s nothing you could do to make me change my mind, Dante. I have nothing you can take, nothing you can destroy.” Eli answered.

  “Are you sure about that?” Dante tilted his head and gazed knowingly at him. It felt like he was looking through Eli, almost as if he could read his thoughts, know his feelings, even– especially– his feelings about Sam.

  “I’m sure there’s nothing, Dante. Stay out of my life. I wish you luck with yours,” Eli hissed, seething.

  Dante merely saluted him with a tip of his glass and chuckled, a mirthless sound that made Eli’s blood run cold. He’d known in abstract how dangerous his brother was. This was the first time that danger had ever been directed at him.

  “If you say so,” Dante finally said at last, and Eli let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation.”

  Eli left without a backwards glance.

  He found Sam packing her suitcase in his suite, well, their suite, really. She hadn’t slept in the room she shared with Roxy once since their first night together. She had showered and was in a breezy red summer dress, its hem hitting mid-thigh, and only tiny straps holding it up. Her hair was down and damp from her shower. He had forgotten that her and Roxy’s flight home was tomorrow. This vacation, this paradise he had shared with her, was coming to an end.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling softly, and straightened. “I thought I would get a head start while you were talking with your brother.” Eli could tell she wanted to ask how things between he and Dante had ended, but also knew she wouldn’t. His girl, his bimba, would respect his privacy and that just made it so much harder.

  He loved her.

  He may not have realized it until that very second, but it was true, it was irrevocable, and nothing could ever come of it. She would never be safe, not from his family, not from their enemies, because he had run. He could go to the moon, to Mars, and one day the debts he owed as a di Ruggiero would still come due and like his mother had for his father, Sam would pay for them. He would not stand in front of her coffin and throw roses into a grave. No, he would protect her the only way open to him. He would protect her by letting her go.

  He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair, taking a deep breath to commit the smell of lilacs and coconut to memory. When he was old and alone, he would remember this. He would remember the feel of her body, warm and pliant in his arms. Her eyes, their unique color, how they looked like liquid metal when she was aroused.

  He kissed her, then, deep and wet, his tongue twining around hers. He would remember how these kisses felt, how they tasted like oranges and sunlight. These memories would keep him warm when his bed was cold and lonely. It was more than he deserved, really, because how could an angel remain in the presence of a devil? It wasn’t possible, but he wouldn’t trade these days, this vacation, for anything.

  Sam leaned away, her hands on his chest, breathing harder. “Not that I’m complaining, but… was that for?”

  Eli shrugged and smiled his most winsome smile. The one that wins over juries and women alike.

  “It was because you’re beautiful, and because I can. Are you done packing?” He turned and looked at the full suitcase, overflowing with clothes and souvenirs for her friends and family. She followed his gaze and smiled.

  “I am. I just need to close it. The rest will go in my carry-on in the morning,”

  “Good,” he said, slanting his mouth over hers for another kiss. He poured everything he felt for her into it. He wouldn’t tell her yet, probably never could, but he wouldn’t break her heart tonight. No, he was much too selfish for that, too much of a coward. Instead he just kissed her, pausing only long enough to pull her dress over her head. He was pleasantly surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a bra, and he pulled off his own shirt and crushed her to him.

  “I told Roxy we wouldn’t be meeting for dinner,” she panted against his lips and he gripped her closer.

  So they had that night, then. He would touch her all night, make sure the feel of her skin was forever emblazoned on his hands, and the memory of her scent and taste burned into his brain. He knew he would never find another woman like Sam, he knew it in his marrow, the same way he knew this was the only way to keep her safe.

  Eli spent the night doing just that, only taking a break for some room service late in the evening before the hotel’s kitchen closed. Sam looked equal parts bewildered and entranced by his attention. He loved the way she giggled when he fed her strawberries for dessert and he would never forget the way she looked in the shower when he got down on his knees and made her come on his tongue, beautiful and sensual and his.

  He’d made love to her one last time in the wee hours of the morning, slowly, her body moving with his, her legs wrapped around his hips and her nails raking down his back. He memorized every moan, every gasp, how she tossed her hair back and gasped his name when he drew that last intense orgasm from her body. He was tempted to not come himself, because he wanted to remember everything in perfect detail.

  But she opened those gray eyes and smiled that dirty grin of hers that only ever happened when she was sated, and whispered “Come for me, Eli.” He was weak, weak only for her, and he obeyed her siren’s call. He would be giving her nothing but heartache the next day, he knew, so he didn’t hold back.

  He stayed up for hours after she fell fast asleep, her lush body pressed against his, her head on his chest, and watched her. He wished he were a different man, a good man from a good family so he could build a life with her, but he wasn’t. He just wasn’t, and he could not change that fact no matter how he wanted to, how hard he tried. And hurting her now, like that, was much better than the alternative.

  She would heal, she would find a good, honest man one day that would give her everything he couldn’t, and Eli would have his memories.

  He woke to a blaring alarm and Sam burrowed further into him. He was quiet and sulky as she showered; he refused to have a shower of his own, unwilling to wash her from his skin just yet. They met Roxy in the lobby and he stuck close to her as she checked out of the room and as a hotel employee loaded up their luggage into the taxi. He didn’t let go of her hand, not as he helped pull her bags from the trunk of the taxi, not while she got checked into her flight, not until the pre-boarding of their flight was called. Eli smiled half-heartedly at Roxy’s goodbye and watched as she walked a few paces towards the ticket counter, giving them some privacy.

  “Hey,” Sam said softly, holding out a small piece of paper. “This is my number and email address. I know Florida and Virginia are states apart, but I– I…” She blushed, stuttering, and he cupped her cheek with his free hand, thumb stroking her soft skin.

  “I like you, and I think you like me, and I’d be wil
ling to try. I– if you were?” she got out and Eli smiled. So brave, his girl. So brave, bright and determined, and he would steal all that brightness away like a black hole gobbling up a sun. His life, the life he could never escape, would destroy her.

  He kissed her; he couldn’t not. She was so sweet and soft, and he loved her. With a hard swallow, he steeled himself for what he had to do.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, and her shocked gasp was like an ice pick to his heart.

  “I– I don’t understand?” she whispered, and he released her hand, erecting an invisible wall between them.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. If I were different, if things were different, I would be following you to Virginia, but they aren’t,” he whispered.

  The pain cleared from her eyes, realization filling their silvery depths.

  “Eli, if– if this is about your family,” she began, her tone pleading, and he took a tiny step away from her, letting the wall grow taller and thicker. “If this is about yesterday with Dante, he, it, doesn’t scare me. You’re not him, you are not your family,” she said emphatically, and he smiled. She was such a champion, a savior. She would probably figure out how to save the world, his bimba.

  “I know it doesn’t scare you, but it doesn’t change the facts. I can’t be with you, I can’t be what you need, what you deserve.”

  Her flight was called for boarding. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Look, I’m not going to cry or plead or beg. Just… just take my information.” She shoved the paper into his hand. He took it: he was weak. He wanted that touch one last time.

  “And call me, or email me, when you get your head out of your ass,” she called, walking backward a few steps to face him.

  And then she was entering the gangway, out of his view, out of his life, for good.

  Part II

  Untitled

  Chapter Thirteen

  One Year Later

  Samantha

  Sam ran her fingers through her hair one last time. The late August heat and humidity of Alexandria, Virginia, were doing a number on her hair. It wasn’t as bad as when she lived in Louisiana for college and law school, but it was still bad. She hadn’t expected her hair to go limp and frizzy quite so fast.

  She’d passed the bar three months after returning home from Costa Rica and spent the next year in Richmond learning everything she could clerking for a judge on the state supreme court. She had really enjoyed working for Justice Landry; she had been wise and stern and demanding. It had been a job Sam could throw herself into mind, body, and soul. She had worked hard and learned a lot, and when she applied for a job with the best criminal defense firm in the DC metro area, her resume came with a glowing recommendation from Landry. They had hired her after the first interview, to her relief and delight, and today was her first day there, as an associate attorney.

  She’d spent the last two weeks moving into her new, small-but-nice apartment in Old Town, the oldest neighborhood in Alexandria. It wasn’t one of the luxury apartments built in a two hundred-year-old renovated building, but a new build, affordable and close to hiking trails and the river. She had gotten herself settled, her parents had helped her move in, and now it was her first day of her new job as a practicing criminal defense attorney.

  She walked up the steps of the huge red brick establishment, a historical building with a marker stating it had originally been built in 1835. The thought of all the history, all the various businesses and people that had walked up these same steps, made her want to leave her mark, too.

  Sam had picked this law firm because they did the most pro-bono work of any of the large firms in the country, and worked with nonprofits on appeals of innocent men and women who had been wrongly convicted, like her father. This was her chance to pay it forward.

  She pushed open the door and approached the receptionist, a pretty young brunette with a winsome smile, her hair pulled into a sleek bun.

  “Hello! Welcome to Herman and Samson, how can I help you?” the woman inquired.

  “Hello, I’m Samantha Barnett. I'm starting work today and I have a meeting with Mr. Herman at 9:30am,” she answered and the receptionist’s smile widened.

  “Hi, I’m Alyssa. I’m the receptionist for right now, but in two weeks I’ll have my paralegal certificate and I’m being promoted. Maybe I’ll get to work with you!” the young woman said brightly. Her enthusiasm was infectious and Sam felt the little knot of first-day nerves loosen a bit.

  “Maybe! I hope so,” she said back as Alyssa handed her a large envelope.

  “Here you go. Inside you’ll find your badge and parking pass. Where did you park today? We have our own small garage attached to the building.”

  “Oh, I parked two blocks down in a pay lot,” Sam answered, looking through the packet of information.

  “Well, keep your receipt and turn it in to Sally in accounting and you’ll get reimbursed. Also, in there you will find some new-hire paperwork, stuff for insurance and the like. Fill all that out and take it to Mike in HR. Your office is...” Sam watched as she typed into her computer. “Oh, you lucky duck, your office is 309 on the third floor. They must really like you, associates rarely get a third-floor office. You’ll be able to see the river!” Alyssa practically gushed.

  Sam blushed. She knew it had helped that Justice Landry and Mr. Herman had gone to Yale Law together, but she didn’t think she had made that good of a first impression. Her excitement turned back to anxiety.

  “Oh, look at you, no reason to worry! I said most new associates don’t get the third floor, but some do– the last new hire from last year did. Mr. Herman really liked him as well.”

  “Liked?” Sam croaked, worried. Had he already been fired?

  “Oh… ‘likes’, I just meant Mr. Herman has an eye for talented lawyers, that’s all,” Alyssa smiled again and Sam nodded.

  “Head on up to your office and then to Mr. Herman’s office, 317, and have a great day! Don’t be a stranger!” Alyssa pointed her to the elevator. Sam nodded her thanks and headed over. She tapped her foot as the elevator ascended to the third floor.

  Finally, after what felt like a year, it dinged and she stepped out into a space perfumed by leather, books, and coffee. The white marble floor had been polished to a high shine and her low black heels seemed to click loudly on it as she searched for her office door. Alyssa had mentioned a view of the Potomac River so Sam headed in that direction. After passing eight offices she found her own. The door was slightly ajar, but on the frosted glass of the dark wooden door was written ‘Samantha Barnett, Esq”.

  This was it. She was officially a practicing attorney.

  She pushed the door open and stepped through. It was smallish, although not as small as she was expecting. There was a decent-sized desk with a flat-screen computer on it, a large unused desk calendar and an empty pen holder. One side of the room was a bookcase filled with law books, criminal codes, and bound law journals. She wandered over to the large window; the blinds had been pulled open, and indeed over the other buildings to the west, she could see the Potomac.

  “Knock, knock,” came a masculine voice from by her door, which she recognized as one of her new employers.

  “Oh, Mr. Herman, is it 9:30 already?” She glanced down and her watch, but it was only 9:15.

  “No, no, I was going to get coffee and a bagel and noticed your door was open, so I thought I’d pop in and see if it was you in here.” He moved further into her office and she smiled.

  “Do you like it?” he asked. “I’m honestly afraid Landry will kick my ass if you complain– she’s never raved about a clerk as much as she raves about you. We’re lucky you chose our firm.”

  Sam flushed at the praise. She hadn’t realized how much Justice Landry appreciated her work. She was a tough judge to work for, exacting, but willing to teach as well.

  Mr. Herman smiled. “Well, let me grab my coffee and bagel and you can meet me in the office– we can get started earlier
, if you’re ready?”

  Sam nodded.

  “Great, bring whatever you use to set up your calendar, because I’m not wasting your talent– you’re getting assigned cases today!”

  Sam’s stomach somersaulted at his words, but her smile didn’t fade, and with another brief wave her new boss was out of her office.

  She gathered up her phone, a pen, and a new yellow legal pad from her bag. She handled her date book digitally, but felt that taking a laptop to a one-on-one meeting with her boss would be cumbersome.

  Sam was outside his office door before he returned from the break room, and she noticed two cups of coffee and two bagels balanced on one cup.

  “Got you some coffee and sugar and cream and a bagel, too!”

  “Oh! Mr. Herman, you didn’t have to do that, really,” she said, surprised. Justice Landry hadn’t expected that of her, not even from her secretary, but surely Sam’s boss getting her coffee was a bad thing.

  “Nonsense, I was headed there anyway– unless you don’t like coffee?” he asked, setting the cups down on his large desk. It wasn’t cluttered, but it was apparent that he actually used the space. Where her desk calendar was blank, his was filled, most days having something written in each box.

  “No! I like coffee, probably too much.” She smiled as he handed her a cup and a bagel and sat in the chair across the desk from him.

  “We all do, Sam, we all do.” He seemed to sense it was time to get down to business. “So, Landry filled me in about the legal issues your father had, and that you’re very passionate about similar righting wrongs.” He paused to stir cream into his coffee.

  “That’s something I’m passionate about, as well, but I want to make sure you understand that sometimes– a lot of the time, honestly– the people we defend truly are guilty. Is that going to be hard for you?” He had posed a similar question during her interview, though not as directly.