Quiet Secrets

by J. L. Drake

  “I want to wake up to you every morning, too.” I used the words from his note, so he knew I’d seen it. I leaned in and pecked his lips. His grin was incredibly sexy as it spread slowly across his lips. He entwined his fingers in my hair and pulled me in for a long kiss. I pressed against his chest, concerned who might walk in, but he didn’t seem to care. His tongue commanded control, and I willingly gave in, loving his dominant side. He was the only man I could truly be myself with, who I ever wanted to be myself with. I always belonged to Elio. No matter how deep my scars were, he owned me, and given his hungry kiss, he knew it.

  “Tonight.” He pulled away with a huff, and I could tell he was barely hanging on to his self-control. “I want you home.”

  I nodded, still trying to find my footing. God, the man could kiss.

  “But right now,” his face fell, “I need you to join me in the next room.”

  “Of course.” I knew it was time to share what I remembered. “Are you going to get angry?”

  “Someone hurt you, Sienna.” He shrugged, twisting a piece of hair around his middle finger. “I have the right to rip them limb from limb.”

  “Fine,” I knew it was pointless to argue, “but maybe I can help with your temper?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Try me.”

  I took his hand as my other lifted my dress slightly and skimmed his hand over my smooth skin to reveal I was going commando.

  “Jesus,” he groaned and gently pressed a finger between my folds, discovering just what he’d done to me, “I would do anything to be inside y—”

  “Why are there meetings that I don’t know about?” Mariano called down the hallway, and Elio’s hand slipped away with a curse.

  “Tonight.” He nodded and stood back as Mariano came into the kitchen looking fit to kill.

  “Why is it you’re always with Elio?” he snapped at me as he reached for the coffee pot, banging everything loudly. “I’m starting to get a complex here.”

  “Are you feeling okay, Mariano?” I eyed Elio to show I could see Mariano was off this morning.

  “Do I look okay?” he barked over his shoulder.

  “No, you look like shit,” dropped from my tongue, and Elio hid his smirk. I was growing tired of his mood swings. Grow up.

  “Tell me how you really feel,” he muttered. “What time is the meeting?”

  “You’re not needed for this one.” Elio gathered up the files next to me.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Pardon?” Elio stood straighter to show his authority and flashed a glare at him. “You’re hung over, you’re wearing clothes from yesterday, and you need a goddam shower. All before I would even consider bringing you into any meeting we are having.”

  “I’ve been worried about her,” he blamed me, “because…because.” He struggled to remember what happened to me. “She got hurt and shit.”

  “Nice.” I shook my head. “Remember what we spoke about in your kitchen? About how I don’t do this.” I pointed a finger up and down his painful appearance. “Don’t toss your train wreck of a life at me, Mariano. Ever.” I left the room and met Piero in the hallway.

  “Good morning.”

  “It was,” I couldn’t help but snap.

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, thirty some-odd years ago, the DeSimones decided to reproduce.”

  He laughed loudly then wrapped a loving arm around me with a sigh. “Elio will deal with him when the time is right, but until then, can we get the full story from you?”

  “Of course.” I followed him into his office and shared everything I remembered with him and Elio.

  Later, spent from talking, I found my way to the special place Elio had made. I sat sideways in the hammock and used the toe of my shoe to gently swing myself. The painkillers I’d taken were soaking in my stomach and had begun to push away the hurt from my ribs. I took a moment to envy the way the sunflowers swayed in the light breeze without a care in the world. I could only stand tight and wonder at my unfinished story. I’d always known that finding out about my past would probably not be everything I wanted it to be, but I hadn’t been prepared for the fact that my father was dead. The fact that he had been murdered only confused me more.

  “May I sit?” I hadn’t even heard Francesco come up behind me.

  “Of course.” I slid over carefully and put my hands on my lap as I tried to curb my emotions.

  He eased into the hammock next to me and took over the job of swinging it with his foot. He sat silently as though waiting for me to speak. When I didn’t, he breathed heavily a couple of times, allowing the air to puff out his cheeks as he exhaled. He was obviously mulling something over.

  “I don’t want you to hate me,” he whispered. “Things just didn’t go as planned.”

  “I so wanted—” my voice cut out as my chin quivered. “I really hoped you were my father.” The words hurt so much that I broke out in a sob.

  “Oh, Sienna,” he pulled me into his side and wrapped a gentle arm around me, “I wanted to be your father so much. It’s why I couldn’t give you up.”

  “Give me up?” I tried to follow.

  “I think it’s time I told you my part in this whole thing.” I tried hard to breathe evenly to stop the pain in my chest as he spoke. “I was in love with your mother. I still am, apparently.” He chuckled darkly. “But our happily ever after never came. Things got very complicated, and we were torn apart. She later married and had you. But your mother’s, ah, life situation became unbearable. As things worsened, she knew she needed to get you somewhere safe. She turned to me, the one person in this world she trusted, for help. We made an agreement that I would hide you away from danger and,” he hesitated, “from the Capri family.”

  “Because she believed the Capri family killed her brother.”

  “Right.”

  “But they didn’t?”

  “No, they didn’t.” He turned to look at me. “Piero looked into it. He was going to share that information with you last night. The bombing just threw everyone for a loop.” I nodded, feeling better knowing they weren’t behind the hit that killed my uncle.

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “We have our suspicions, but I’ll save that for another day. I want to finish my story.” He took a deep breath. “I was only supposed to hide you away from danger, but in the first few weeks of you being with me, we became close. It was my hand you needed to fall asleep, I was the one who read the stories right, and you’d latch on to my leg when you were frightened. I never had a daughter, and you were part of my Elenora. I had no idea when, or if, I would ever see her again. Maybe it was selfish, but I just couldn’t be that far away from you. So, I did the one thing I promised I wouldn’t do. I hid you close by. Next door to where I lived with the Capris.”

  He drew in a breath and huffed it out. “I promised myself I would drop you off and only check in on you occasionally.” His hold on me tightened. “I truly thought they were a good family. I had someone watching you, but he fed me false information. I wonder if he even really checked on you at all. Then months and months went by, and he never showed up to give me his report. He went missing, and I had to know what was happening.

  “Remember the day you met Elio at the pond?” I nodded through sudden tears. “Well, I was following the path through the woods and saw you crying. It broke my heart to see you like that. I couldn’t believe I had found you there, after so long, and it took every ounce of willpower not to approach you. I knew I had to find a way to see if you were all right. I circled back home and sent Elio to you. I knew he would find you.”

  “Did Piero or Andrea know about me?”

  “No. It’s the biggest secret I’d ever kept from them.”

  “Why?”

  “For reasons I can’t share right now.”

  “Did you ever tell Elio about me?”

  “Never. And when it was obvious that Elio was falling for you, it was too late. I couldn’t take that from yo
u or from Elio.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the love you two have is the exact same as Elenora’s and mine. You can’t cheat that kind of love. It’s like a boomerang effect. No matter how far you separate, one way or the other you will find each other again. I know what that’s done to me and Elenora. I couldn’t do that to the two of you.”

  Tears dripped from my cheeks as I let his story marinate in my head. Many questions rose to the surface, but one thing stood out.

  “It’s strange,” I whispered. “Subconsciously, I think I knew you were someone special to me, because when we met, I felt an instant connection with you.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest from the start. I just couldn’t be.”

  “I am, too,” I nodded, “but I appreciate you taking care of me, even though I had no idea you were.”

  He sniffed and cleared his throat then gave my hand a squeeze.

  “Thank you for sending Elio to me.” I squeezed his hand back.

  “He needed you, just as much as you needed him.”

  We both fell silent and enjoyed the sway of the hammock as we sat immersed in our thoughts. Then his phone rang. He spoke briefly then slid the phone into his pocked.

  “Shall we?” He smiled and held out a hand to me. Wordlessly, I took it, and he walked me back up to the house. We both had to get on with our day.

  I was tempted to call my boss and see if there were any stories I could look into, just to feel like I was doing something worthwhile with my time. Then decided I should check in with Wyatt first to see how his research was going. As I went to look for my phone, I ran into Andrea struggling with a big box with a laptop balanced on top of it.

  “Here, let me help you.” I took the computer and a file she had pressed under her arm.

  “Thank you,” she sighed, then she looked at me as though in thought. “Sienna, I think it’s time you learned some things about the family business.”

  “Oh.” I had wondered when someone would take the time to talk to me about the mafia way of life. “I would love to.”

  She motioned for me to follow. She led me to one of the sunrooms on the far side of the house. It was a lovely room that looked over the pool and gardens.

  My phone vibrated, and I glanced at it, hoping it was Wyatt telling me he would be free for a call soon. I missed him terribly and wanted to know how the story was coming along.

  Elenora: I have to leave town for a few days. When I get back, I hope we can meet up again?

  My nose twitched at the text. I hated how she was only a short drive away, but I didn’t get to see her very often.

  Sienna: I’d like that, too. Have a good trip.

  “You can help me go through these files.” Andrea didn’t pry. She opened the box and started to lay out files. “They are all in order by date.” She smiled up at me. “We need to find any mention of extra containers that may have arrived in Italy, or of any extra ones that may have arrived back from Libya. There should be three signatures by these three men in New York,” she pointed to one of the invoices, “and three from our dockyard, and another three from Libya, where the oil is actually coming from. If anything looks off at all, put it aside.”

  “Are we looking for the girls?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “We are the third sets of eyes on this paperwork. Though she’s from Serbia, we run our oil from Libya. I’m just not sure what’s happening here.” She rubbed her head, looking stressed.

  “Then let’s make sure we don’t miss anything.” I smiled and warmed to the task. It was nice to feel useful. She mentioned a few more things about how the family business was run, when we fell into a good rhythm, and I let my mind wander a little with some questions.

  “Can I ask something basic?”

  “You can ask me anything.” She tapped her finger on the wet sponge and swiped through the pages.

  “Do you spot syndicates by their family rings?”

  “Yes. Only a select few in the families have them. You have to be a direct bloodline from the Don and be the first-born child to get one. There are normally dates engraved inside the band to show it’s authentic, along with a little stamp from the first founding godfather.” Something caught her eye on the paper, but I guessed it was nothing, as she moved on. “Then from there, the Don of each family has a signature piece to identify who they are.”

  “Is that the tie pin Piero wears, the one that’s almost hidden under the collar of his shirt?”

  “Yes, good eye.” She smiled, impressed. “He used to wear it further down, but after the attempted hit in Sicily, he tends to not be so flashy with it. I don’t blame him. That was a close call.”

  I wanted to pry more, but I could tell she was still bothered by what happened, so I let it go.

  I spent the rest of the day helping Andrea go through the papers. We combed tirelessly through the last three years of all the imports and exports of their oil business. When we broke for lunch, she explained to me about how they laundered money through their wineries. After seeing how it was run, I was amazed and impressed at just how simple it was.

  “Simplicity is best.” She sipped her grapefruit drink. “The authorities expect to have to dig deep for evidence, so leaving the truth just shaded by a little covering is often overlooked.”

  “Is it wrong that I find this fascinating?”

  “Not at all.” She shook her head. “This is how the world works, Sienna. We are a well-run syndicate, and we help keep our country going. We are reserved and know how to rule from the top without letting power or greed get the better of us.” She checked the time on her watch. “We should get back to it. Noemi is coming over for drinks later.”

  We came up with nothing. There was zero evidence of any kind of human trafficking coming in or out of the Capri ports.

  A few times, I caught Jacob Raine’s name on some paperwork, so I pulled that aside. I decided I was going to think of a way to deal with him myself. I snapped a photo of his address.

  As I sat across from Aunt Noemi and Andrea, I found myself remembering that night in the hotel room when Jacob carved his initial into my arm like a rancher branding his cattle. I remembered the smell of whiskey on his breath as he grabbed my breast. I shook it off as I heard someone enter the room.

  My body temperature soared, and my skin flushed as the movement of his arm rubbing his cheek gave me a sight that nearly took my breath away. Elio’s stance was that of a man who had the weight of what he had to do lay heavy on his shoulders. His white dress shirt was stained in blood. It traveled up his torso and splattered across his cheek.

  I wanted to stand, run to check him over, see if all of him was okay, but instead I waited and watched. My heart slowed to a steady rhythm. I read his mood and studied his movements. I was seeing Elio in a whole different light. It was dark, like his yin to his yang.

  I gave him a simple nod that I understood he was home and okay. He did the same and nodded toward the window, toward his house. Then he disappeared. I crossed my legs and turned to Andrea, who was watching me as Noemi prattled on about something. A small smile escaped her lips before she went back to the conversation. I saw Noemi give Andrea a look without a break in her sentence.

  It wasn’t lost on me that a big moment had just passed through the three of us. I guessed I was learning the mafia world.

  Andrea gave me the first out she could, and I rushed down the hill to Elio’s house. Using my key, I headed inside and followed the lighting that led me to the stairs and up to the bedroom. I gently pushed the door open to find Elio leaning against the wall looking out the window. His blood-soaked dress shirt dangled from his fingers.

  I took a steady breath and straightened my spine, wanting to show confidence.

  “You’ve been gone awhile."

  “Hmhmm.” He kept one shoulder flat against the wall as he watched me play with my key between my fingers. Then his gaze moved up. His bangs had fallen forward and covered the tops of his eyes, deepening the shadows arou
nd them.

  “Tough night?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded once.

  “Is any of that your blood?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” I calmly set my purse and keys on the dresser. “I’d really like it if you’d come to bed with me.”

  He pushed off the wall and stared down at me through hooded eyes. The blood splatter on his face had dried, and part of it cracked when he squinted. He was trying to read my mind, to see if it bothered me.

  “I’m not sorry for what I have to do,” he whispered.

  “Okay.” I knew he wasn’t.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Truthfully?” I whispered, and he nodded, stepping closer, and I felt the pull he had on me coil tighter inside. “I want to be the person who makes this haunted look,” I brushed the back of my fingers down his temple and across the dried blood, “disappear.”

  He grabbed my hand and held it to his cheek, closing his eyes. A painful expression flickered across his face.

  “I want to make the world better, for you.” His eyes shot open, and I was once again held captive by his intensity. For a brief moment, I saw inside him. The good versus evil, the reasoning to do things he did that outweighed the good, and the love he had for me.

  “How badly do you hurt?” He referred to my sore ribs.

  “I barely feel them.”

  “Mm.” He kissed my lips gently then headed into the bathroom. I wasn’t sure what I should do then, so I grabbed my bag and got ready for bed in the guest bathroom.

  He was still in the shower when I returned, so I stripped down to nothing, took my nighttime pain pill, and settled under the cool sheets.