by Bethany-Kris
“Oh, my God.” Haven was sure her face was going to permanently turn red. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t hear much else, and I just turned the television on in my room. Maria’s room is on the other side of the house, so …”
“That’s the first time I’ve brought him home.”
Valeria nodded. “I know. Don’t worry about it. And besides, I mean, after a night like that, you shouldn’t be standing here nursing a cup of coffee, and looking like someone kicked your puppy. What’s up?”
A lot of things.
She could have just as easily brushed her friend’s concerns off. It wasn’t like her to share her personal problems because frankly, Haven wasn’t the type to have that kind of issue to begin with. And yet, she’d had more in the time she’d been messing around with Andino than she’d had in her entire life before him.
She wanted to say it wasn’t worth it.
The pain wouldn’t be worth it.
Something else said it just might.
“You can talk to me,” Valeria said.
“I know.”
“Then talk.”
There was a lot of things she could have said; how she felt, and the way things seemed to be shaking out for her and Andino at the end of the day. The inevitable end that she felt was coming, and soon.
Instead, Haven settled on saying, “I think I fell in love with a man who can’t or won’t love me back, Val.”
Her friend sagged a bit against the island. “I’m sorry.”
Haven shrugged. “I don’t know how to tell him that, though.”
Valeria nodded. “They have a way of doing that to us—men like him, I mean. They sweep into your life, and they’re enigmatic. Electric, even. A complex walking, you know? Everything about them is something you know you should stay away from, and yet, the same things that scare you are the same shit that draws you back in time and time again. I get it, Haven. Really.”
“That’s what it was like for you, too?”
“Yes,” her friend replied, “and no.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It’s all complicated when you love a bad man, Haven. It’s when he starts to love you back that you need to be careful.”
She wondered …
Did he love her back?
Did it even matter anymore?
“I don’t want to keep being hurt,” Haven said. Even if Andino didn’t mean to hurt her, some of the things he had done still did exactly that. “I’m allowed to be the one who says that I don’t want to be hurt anymore, right?”
Valeria gave her a look. “Who else is going to do it for you?”
NINETEEN
Andino nursed the glass of red wine he held, and let his gaze drift over the sizable crowd that had come to celebrate Valentine’s day at his grandparents’ mansion. Usually, he liked this type of thing—the wealth, respect, and standing. He liked everything that being a Marcello provided him, and he took great pleasure in knowing that other people recognized his privilege, too.
Tonight was … different.
Or it seemed that way.
His three-piece black on black suit with a matching tie and vest felt too snug—especially around his throat. The Cartier watch on his wrist was ticking down, and he felt acutely aware of the sound even if he didn’t know what it was ticking down to. Every time someone else’s gaze would drift in his direction, Andino was quick to look away. He didn’t want to be stared at tonight; he didn’t want to be here at all.
He would much rather be on the other side of New York indulging a blonde, blue-eyed woman with a masterpiece inked all over her body. It was fucking Valentine’s day. It wasn’t like he had ever had a reason to want to be with someone on that day before, but he did this year. He’d rather be normal with Haven for five more minutes and not the little Marcello king in waiting that he felt like tonight.
He’d never been more on display with his family than he was now—Andino was never more aware of that fact than now.
All eyes on him.
How well will you rise?
He could practically feel them asking that question of him in their minds. He didn’t need to actually hear them say it when he could see it written on all their faces. Their expectations were all around him constantly.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
Wasn’t that how the saying went?
It wasn’t even the idea of being the boss that bothered him as much as it was the way these people wanted to concern themselves with how he became the boss, or how he chose to be the boss.
Andino cared nothing for that.
At all.
“You’re looking lonely over here,” his mother said as she slid in beside him. “And not talking to anyone, either. That’s not like you.”
God, he loved his ma.
He wished she wasn’t so fucking observant, though.
“What’s wrong, Andi?” Kim asked.
He gave her one of his most charming smiles—hoping it would do the trick, and divert her attention. “Nothing, Ma.”
“Mmhmm. Try again.”
Jesus.
Andino tipped his glass up, and polished off a good mouthful of the red wine. It gave him a couple extra seconds to think up some excuse as to why he was off on his own in a party full of people who usually adored him just because of who he was. “People watching, Ma.”
Kim rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s boring. And you’re still lying.”
She knew him too well.
“Thinking, Ma. That’s all.”
Kim glanced down, and swirled the wine in her glass before quietly asking, “Is this because of a certain young woman?”
Andino smirked. “We shouldn’t talk about that—her—Ma.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
Kim smiled sweetly, and arched a brow in challenge when she met Andino’s stare once more. “Did you know I was engaged when I met your father—and not to Gio, I might add.”
Andino cleared his throat. “I have heard the stories.”
“I do know what it’s like to go against the grain in this life, Andino. I know the consequences, and how hard it is to come out on top after it’s all said and done.”
“Ma, I have enough people telling me what I can and can’t do with my life at the moment. Please, don’t be another voice in that chorus.”
Kim laughed softly. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I know that’s what you’re about to do, actually.”
“How so?”
Andino shook his head. “You know the rules—Dante put me where he did, and I have to follow along with his expectations regarding my personal life as to not be challenged after I take the seat. And … you did run to Dad the second you found Haven in my home. So, please, you’ve done enough. I don’t need to hear your voice added to the chorus of control in my life, too.”
“You’re wrong,” Kim said quickly, “but I suppose that’s partly my fault since I didn’t explain anything different to you, and you’re left to make assumptions.”
“Pardon?”
His mother shrugged as she sipped on her wine. “I told your father about Haven because I knew if that woman—if love—was the hill you were willing to die on for this life, then we had to be ready to die on it with you.” Kim’s gaze drifted to Andino’s stoic face, and then she peered across the room. He followed her stare to find she was looking at his uncle, Dante. “And some of us … well, some of us will need a bit more time, and some help along the way to see reason. I knew that, too.”
“I—”
Kim held up a hand, quieting Andino. “You should try to put yourself in other people’s shoes at times, Andi. Your uncle is not like your father, or even like his other brother. Dante is Dante. He’s not as progressive, or open to change. He’s stuck in a place where he’s trying to maintain the status quo of what Cosa Nostra is … the Cosa Nostra he knows. The one that was given to him. But he is
not so stuck in his ideals that he would be willing to burn down this entire organization and family in the hopes of it remaining unchanged. Like I said … he is not like his brothers, and he needs more time.”
Andino didn’t know what to say. His mother apparently didn’t need him to say anything at all. The women in his life were always doing this to him, it seemed.
Stunning him.
Turning his world upside down.
Being amazing.
“But we all have an image and expectations to maintain,” his mother added, “and so I hope you’ll forgive me when I keep mine firmly in place until I no longer need to.”
Yeah, he got what she was saying.
Kim nodded at the people gathered in the mansion’s ballroom. “Go, and mingle. These are your people, and many of them, your family. Eventually, they’re going to be the ones dying on your hill for that woman, too, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. Don’t sulk in a corner—that’s not the man I raised.”
His mother didn’t even wait for him to give a response. No, she simply patted him on the cheek with her soft hand, gave him one of those looks only a mother could give, and then she headed into the crowd of people again.
Well, damn.
Andino didn’t get the chance to think about his mother’s words, or do what she told him to. Something—or rather, someone—else caught his attention instead. It seemed like that was happening to Andino a lot lately.
His cousin cut through the crowd of people looking like a man on a fucking mission. And not a particularly stable man at the moment, if Andino was to trust that unusual gleam in John’s eye.
Shit.
Andino quickly moved through the people to go after his cousin. John’s mental state had been progressively getting worse over the last couple of days, and he rarely even picked up a call from Andino. His cousin had approached him recently rambling about a fucking file, and blaming him.
John was getting worse.
And fast.
Andino made it ten feet away from John when the man approached his own father. Lucian stepped away from the guest he was chatting with to greet his oldest, and only, son. “John.”
“You didn’t think to invite me?” John asked.
Lucian smiled faintly. “You didn’t think to answer your phone?”
John shoved his shaking hands into his pockets, and his stare turned cold and hard. “Have you been talking to Andino, or something?”
Ah, shit.
Andino found his own father’s gaze meeting his from behind Lucian. Gio shook his head subtly—it was enough for him to know that, no, his father had not updated Lucian entirely on the John situation, and what had been going on when no one was looking. Andino only needed to get a good look at his uncle to know the man suspected things were seriously up with John, but that wasn’t the same as having all the details.
That was not going to be a fun conversation.
“Why would I talk to Andino?” Lucian asked.
John changed direction just as fast which was all too common when he was dealing with a manic spiral. Even the tone of his voice changed, and he spoke faster. “I don’t know if it was you, or Dante, or who the fuck it was, but I don’t need any of you sending me shit like you did last week.”
Lucian frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play fucking games with me, Dad.”
Lucian stepped forward, concern coloring his gaze. “John, are you all right?”
John stiffened, and his jaw flexed at that question. “Is that all any of you ever think about with me? If I’m okay, if I can handle myself, if my shit is taken care of? I am fucking fine, Dad.”
Too loud, John.
Everybody looked their way.
“I only came here to make one fucking thing clear,” John said.
Lucian put a hand up to stop anyone from coming closer—like he knew without having to look that at least one of his brothers were about to come to his aid. He was right, too. Dante had moved closer, but stopped at Lucian’s raising hand.
“And what’s that, son?” Lucian asked.
“Remember, it’s not my loyalty in this family that ever needs to be in question.”
John spun on his heel, and headed back for the entrance of the ballroom. Lucian gestured at an enforcer across the way, and pointed at his son—a silent order to follow John, which the man did without question, and quietly. How long he would be able to tail John was anyone’s fucking guess, though. John was sneaky and sly like that, but especially when he was paranoid as hell.
Then, Lucian’s sharp gaze turned on Andino as Giovanni joined his son’s side. Anger, and fear swirled in the man’s eyes, although his outward appearance remained stoic and calm.
So was the way of a Marcello man.
“What haven’t you been telling me about my son?” Lucian asked quietly.
Like he already knew …
Andino looked in the direction John had gone. “It’s a recent thing—he’s not well.”
“Obviously.”
“I was trying to keep an—”
“I don’t give a shit what you were trying to do,” Lucian snapped. “You’re going to tell me everything, and you’re going to do it now.”
“We will,” Gio said.
Lucian cursed under his breath. “You knew, too?”
“Andi came to me; I was trying to help.”
“It’s my son, Gio.”
Giovanni nodded. “I know.”
Except … Andino was Gio’s son, and they all had to have priorities. Even if no one wanted to admit it.
“Someone start talking,” Lucian said darkly.
“Yes, please do,” Dante added, staring hard at Andino.
Well, this was going to be a long night.
Great.
Andino sent another text to Haven even as he pulled his Lexus to a spot in front of her house. Snaps jumped forward from the back to put his big paws on the center piece between the front seats. His tail went wild—knowing Haven was going to be around soon, and recognizing her house.
The dog did love her.
It amused Andino to no end.
His amusement was quick to fade when he noticed Haven didn’t respond back to his text—like the last ten he’d sent since the night before, and over the morning. That wasn’t like Haven at all which was why he just decided to come over to her place while he had five minutes to spare.
He couldn’t be here long.
John had taken off the night before, but like Andino figured, the enforcer following behind had lost his cousin’s trail the second they were on a freeway. That only served to put Lucian in a panic, which meant everybody else needed to be in the same kind of state.
Andino was going to look for his cousin just like everybody else—he figured John ended up in one of his favorite places. Somewhere that was comforting and familiar to him.
First, though, he wanted to check on Haven.
Snaps tried to follow Andino out of the car, but he was quick to make the dog stay. “You can wait, Snaps.”
The dog huffed.
He just laughed.
Closing the driver’s door, Andino rounded the car and headed for the small Brooklyn bungalow even as he checked his phone again. It wasn’t like it buzzed or anything, but fuck, maybe the damn thing was—
“It’s Andino, right?”
Andino’s head snapped up to find a pretty woman closing the front door of the house before she came to stand on the front stoop. Even though it was cold out, she wore nothing but a sweater and jeans, and her dark brown hair had been thrown up in a messy bun. He recognized her, but only because he’d seen her once or twice in passing.
Valeria, he thought.
Haven’s roommate.
They’d never had a real conversation—he thought he might have said hello to her once when he was at Haven’s club, and the woman was helping out behind the bar. But beyond that? Nothing came to mind.
“It is Andino,” he said.
“And you’re Valeria, yeah?”
“Most people call me Val,” she replied, smiling faintly. “You don’t need to worry about that, though.”
Andino stiffened, and his steps slowed to a stop at the bottom of the stoop’s stairs. “Something wrong?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Good. Is Haven home?”
Valeria glanced away. “Not at the moment.”
“Little early for her to be at the club, isn’t it?”
“She’s not there, either, although I wasn’t told to tell you any of this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean exactly?” he asked.
“Does it matter?”
Yeah, it kind of did. Andino didn’t like the way this woman seemed like she was trying to play word games with him. Either his girl was around, or she wasn’t. And if she wasn’t, then where in the hell was she?
What in the fuck was happening?
Andino checked the time on his phone again. “She’s probably on her run, then.”
“Not unless her run is twenty-thousand feet in the air.”
“What?”
Valeria sighed. “Listen, Andino … I don’t really know you, so I can’t say whether or not you’re a decent guy. I do know enough about you to make my own assumptions, though, so I’ll leave it like that. Haven took a vacation because she needs one, not that you would know anything about what she needs, right?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Where did this chick get off saying something like that to him? She didn’t know him, and he doubted she knew very much about him and Haven, either. Hell, he was still trying to figure out this shit with Haven.
“She headed out to see her parents for a week. She figured you would be around, and told me to let you know—”
“What?” he asked sharply.
“She wanted you know that she’s going to worry about taking care of herself for a while,” Valeria said, shrugging one shoulder and never breaking their staring contest. “So, take that however you want to.”
“I don’t want to take that at all.”
Valeria nodded. “Yeah, I bet.”
“So, she’s just gone?”
And she hadn’t let him know?
