by Bethany-Kris
“Arms out,” the tailor said with a tap of his tape to Dante’s chest.
Dante did as he was told, but continued to stare at Andino even when he met his uncle’s gaze, too. “I suppose none of that matters anyway, does it?”
“Why is that?” Andino asked back.
“Because I will be proud of you regardless of what you do as a boss,” Dante said. “Because I am proud of the sacrifices you have made for this family, and how much you’ve stepped up to make sure everyone is protected the way they deserve to be. I will be proud of you for those things even when you do other things that I am sure I won’t agree with, Andino. And I know you think I don’t care or understand just how much you’ve sacrificed, but I do know, nipote. I wish things could have been different for you in that respect.”
Andino stared unflinchingly back at his uncle. “You have no idea, zio.”
Antony was next to get his measurements taken for any final touches on their suits that might need to be done before the wedding in a few days. Andino slipped out the shop when he had a chance, but mostly because his father kept texting his fucking phone nonstop.
Gio should have been there, but he hated going in for measurements more than even Dante did. It was almost amusing how even at his father’s age, Giovanni still didn’t give a single shit about what other people wanted.
“What, Dad?” Andino asked, putting the phone to his ear.
Gio chuckled. “You alone? Took you long enough.”
“Trying to keep Dante amused. What do you need?”
“It’s for you actually. An update.”
“On …?”
“Haven,” his father murmured.
All it took was her name being said for Andino to flinch. It was like a sharp spike suddenly drove into his chest, and left a gaping, bleeding wound behind where his heart used to be. This was so fucked up.
Why was he so fucked up?
“Is now a good time?” Gio asked when Andino stayed quiet.
“Yeah, why not?”
Lies.
It was all lies.
Gio probably knew that, too, but like the good father he was … he listened to what his son said to do, and didn’t press for more details. He’d been the one to offer to keep an eye on Haven from afar without following her to stepping in on her life. Andino’s request. Mostly, he just wanted to make sure the Calabrese idiots left her the hell alone.
Nothing else.
Not yet, anyway.
“She’s still being watched by them,” Gio said, “and yes, it is definitely the Calabrese, like you thought. They’re not approaching her at all, but they are watching her.”
“That’s a smart move on their part.”
“Andino.”
“Well,” he uttered.
Gio sighed. “She flew down to Florida this past weekend to see her parents, but came back on Monday morning. Stopped into the club to say hello, I think, but she didn’t stay. That’s the first time she’s been back there since it sold, according to the guy I talked to.”
“Huh.”
He bet that fucking sucked for her.
“The For Sale sign on the house has a sold marker,” Gio added quieter. “I take it they haven’t fully closed, though, as she’s still there even though she’s moving the rest of her things out slowly.”
Jesus.
The air was gone from his lungs, and it was painful.
She was this close to leaving.
Too fucking close.
“All right, thanks,” Andino said.
“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want.”
“She’s not gone yet. That’s what matters. There’s still time. I can still fix this once I finish with the rest. It doesn’t matter. I’ll fucking fly to Florida for all I give a damn. I can fix it.”
“I know you can, son,” Gio murmured.
His father sounded like he believed him.
Andino wasn’t even sure he believed himself.
Showtime.
Andino carefully balanced the large white box with the matching satin bow in his hands as he maneuvered through the halls of the church. He only set the box down long enough to greet his mother when she came out of her dressing room.
“Look at you,” Kim said, smiling widely. She fixed his tie—though he knew it wasn’t crooked because his father, uncles, and grandmother did the same goddamn thing earlier—and smoothed the lapels of his tux with the kind hands only a mother could have. Proud, he thought. She looked proud of him. “You’re so handsome, my boy.”
Andino smiled. “Thank you, Ma.”
“Are you ready for today?”
“More than ready.”
It wasn’t a lie.
He was ready for today.
It was the beginning of the end, so to speak.
Kim’s smile faltered for a brief second. “Really?”
Andino shrugged, and bent down to kiss his mother on her forehead. He stayed there for a few seconds, knowing this was what his mother deserved. She always wanted to make sure he was happy, and so he wanted to do the same with her.
“Really, Ma. Don’t you worry about me today. All I want is for you to enjoy the show.”
Kim raised a brow at that statement when she glanced up at her son, but Andino only winked. She patted his cheek, and said, “I better go find your father. You’ve got all of an hour before you need to be down at the altar. Got it?”
“No worries. I don’t need a reminder.”
Andino said goodbye to his mother. She went one way down the hallway, and he went the other. It took him another ten minutes before he was on the other side of the church where the bride-to-be and her family had been situated for the day.
He could hear the cheerful laughter of Kev and Darren Calabrese before he even opened the hallway door. That sound alone was enough to send Andino’s rage spiking higher—he could not despise those two men more than he did—but he tampered the emotion down. He remained a blank slate as he pulled open the door to find the brothers sharing a drink in the hallway, and clinking beer bottles.
“Andino, what are you doing down this way?” Kev asked.
Entirely too happy.
Andino lifted the box in his hands. “I thought Ginevra might like a gift.”
Darren cocked a brow. “Bad luck to see the bride—”
“I’m not superstitious, but thanks for your concern.”
The younger of the two narrowed his gaze at Andino. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have more than enough time to spend with Ginevra after the wedding, Andino.”
“And right now when I give her this gift.”
Darren didn’t look like he was willing to back down. Neither was Andino, really. Darren was smart like that where Kev, on the other hand, was a fucking idiot. Maybe he felt something wasn’t right—he would be correct—but it didn’t matter.
Andino was going to do what he was going to do whether either of them liked it or not. He didn’t need their fucking permission to give Ginevra her wedding gift.
Kev laughed, and slapped his brother on the back. “Relax, brother. This is a good day, huh? We’ve been waiting for this. Let him have a moment.” Then, to Andino, Kev added, “We’ll give you a few. Siena is helping Ginevra finish getting ready. We have to check on the other two girls, anyway.”
Andino nodded. “I appreciate it.”
Kev grinned in that way of his as he passed Andino by. This stupid fuck thought he was about to get everything he wanted. All the things his father had never been able to achieve as a Cosa Nostra boss was suddenly at the tips of Kev’s fingers, and he was craving it something bad.
Andino had news for him … it was never going to happen.
It didn’t matter.
Kev would learn soon enough.
Once the brothers were out of the hallway, Andino gave one last look over his shoulder before he headed for the bridal suite. Rapping on the door with two knuckles, he stepped back and waited for someone to open the door. No one did, but he
did hear footsteps come closer to the door.
He knocked again.
“Jesus Christ, Kev,” he heard Siena snap behind the doorway, “just give her a few minutes, okay?”
Andino raised a brow. “It’s me, actually.”
“Oh.” Slowly, the door was opened. Siena popped her head through the crack, and gave Andino a look before her gaze dropped down at the box in his hands. She looked ready for the day all dressed up in her silk and chiffon pale blue gown that would match Ginevra’s other two sisters’ dresses as well. “What do you need?”
“A minute with Ginevra.” Andino smiled. “And you.”
Siena cleared her throat. “Now’s not the best—”
“I really don’t have time for this, Siena.”
“Just … give me a second, okay?”
Andino sighed. “Fine, but hurry. We’re running out of daylight.”
Not really, but he was running short on time.
Siena closed the door, and he waited. It was less than a few seconds before shouting started to filter out from behind the door. Yells, and crying.
Jesus Christ.
Andino shot a look down the hallway, and figured, he needed to get that noise under control before someone came looking to see what in the hell was going on. None of them needed that kind of problem.
Not if this was to happen the right way, anyhow.
Instead of waiting for Siena to come back to the door like she told him to, Andino opened it and slipped inside. He closed the door behind him quickly, and spun around to face whatever hell was happening inside the space.
Across the room, he found Siena trying to console a sobbing, messy Ginevra. Her makeup was ruined, and her white wedding gown had been thrown to the floor—entirely forgotten, it seemed. Or unwanted.
Yes, unwanted seemed like the better word.
“I can’t, Siena,” Ginevra rasped, trying to pull away from her half-sister. “I can’t.”
“Come on,” Siena urged. “Just breathe. It worked last time, remember? Breathe.”
Andino could have let Siena handle the situation, because by the looks and sounds of it, this wasn’t the first time Ginevra had found herself in the midst of some kind of breakdown. The woman had been hiding it well, but today was the day, he supposed.
The end of the line.
There was no hiding it, now.
Andino crossed the room quickly, and kept a hold on the gift tucked under his arm at the same time. Siena caught sight of him coming their way, and her shoulders dropped before she took a wide step away from Ginevra. Andino didn’t think about taking the place she had left.
Ginevra was in such a state that she didn’t even realize Andino was in the room until it was too late. She laid eyes on him, let out a wail, and turned on her heel to dart for the bathroom just a few steps away. She was too late.
He had his arm wrapped around her waist before she could even try to run. She barely weighed a thing—maybe one-hundred-ten pounds soaking wet, he thought. Like this, she just seemed so fucking fragile, and not at all ready for the hell her brothers wanted to put her through.
He’d known that from the beginning, though.
“Stop,” he ordered, dropped her onto a couch. “Don’t you move.”
Ginevra pushed up from the couch with her hands raised, and ready to slap him. “I don’t want to marry you! You can’t make me!”
Andino chuckled. “Good. As much as I like an angry woman, you’re not the one for me, Ginny. Now shut the fuck up, and sit the hell down if you want to leave this church as a single woman.”
Her eyes widened—still full of tears, and red-rimmed. “W-what?”
“Sit.”
She did.
Andino took the box out from under his arm, and set it on her lap. “A gift for you. Consider it your wedding gift, even if this wedding never happens. You’re to use everything you find in it, and if you follow every direction inside to the letter … there is someone outside in a black Porsche. He’s doing me a favor. You get in that car, use what I’ve given you in this box, and you stay gone until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?”
Ginevra’s gaze drifted from the box in her lap, to Andino’s face. “I don’t … Why?”
“You’re not the one for me,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it went on this long. It shouldn’t have happened to begin with.”
She untied the bow, and opened the box. Andino didn’t need to look down to know what she would find inside—paperwork and a fake identity to get her across the Canadian border. Money, and untraceable credit cards attached to said identity. New clothes, and even a sizeable church hat that would give her just enough of a different appearance to get her out of this place.
“His name is Corrado,” Andino said. “And he was told to leave by twelve-thirty whether you were in his car, or not.”
Ginevra looked up again. “Corrado?”
“Corrado Guzzi. He’s a friend, and he owed me a favor. What time is it, Ginny?”
She didn’t know.
Siena answered for her.
“Twelve-twenty.”
“Ten minutes, then,” Andino said. “You better hurry up, and make a choice.”
“That’s not enough time,” Ginevra whispered. “Kev and Darren are—”
“Busy, at the moment. And I can keep them busy for a while longer.”
“I’ll help,” Siena added. “I will, Ginny.”
Ginevra was still staring at Andino, and the tears had started falling again. “Is he nice?”
Andino laughed. “Corrado?”
“Yeah.”
“What does that matter? He’s just going to help for a while.”
“I just … I don’t know.”
“Corrado is … Corrado,” Andino settled on saying. “And he’s a hell of a lot better than what you’re facing if you stay.”
Ginevra nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Hurry up—time is running out.”
Literally.
SIXTEEN
“What time does your flight leave?” her mother asked.
Haven slapped the ticket she’d printed off against her palm, and smiled even though her mother couldn’t see it. “Supposed to be five, but you know how it goes …”
“Probably three delays, and before you know it, you’ll be on the damn red-eye.”
She laughed. “Yeah, exactly that.”
Silence covered the phone for a moment. She knew that was just her mother overthinking again. She called them every single day. It didn’t matter that she knew they were fine, she still had to call. Their conversations had been like this ever since Haven called to let them know the house had finally sold.
Then, this became real. This whole Haven moving to Florida thing. For a while, her parents believed she wouldn’t. That she would do exactly what they wanted for her, and keep living her life because that’s what they felt she deserved.
Well, it was happening.
Today was her last day in the house. Everything was gone now except her laptop, and a printer she was ditching as soon as she left. Her luggage was already outside in the trunk of the car. A car that would stay in the parking garage of the airport until a friend could drive it down to Florida next month.
It was all done.
Today was the day.
“How’s Dad doing?” Haven asked.
“Outside mowing the grass.”
“Bet his allergies are loving that.”
Her mom made a quiet noise. “It’s not so bad, actually. Allergy pills do wonders for him, I guess.”
“Huh.” Sighing, Haven stared out the bare kitchen window to the outside. It was a beautiful June day—bright, sunny, and hot. The kind of day she would love to get a run in before heading to the club for a night of work. That had been her life. Her entire life. And it was all about to change. “You have chemo tomorrow, right?”
Mae cleared her throat. “I do—noon, sharp.”
“I’ll be able to go with you, then.”
“You don’t have to do that, Haven.”
“I know, but I want to, Ma.”
Mae let out a heavy breath. “I wish you wouldn’t put your whole life on pause for me, sweetheart. I’m fine.”
Her mom kept saying that, but Haven didn’t know if it was truth. That was part of the problem. Not that Mae understood, really. Haven had never properly explained it, she supposed. That wasn’t her mom’s fault.
Turning in the empty kitchen, Haven took another look around the space. The bare walls stared back, as did the freshly cleaned counters, and appliances. She’d opened the doors on the fridge and freezer to allow them to circulate air.
“I’m gonna miss this place,” Haven said.
It was the first time she admitted that out loud to one of her parents.
Her mother made a sad noise. “I know, baby.”
“But … I have to get away from here. I can’t be here anymore.”
That silence was quick to saturate the line again. Haven wasn’t sure how long it lasted before her mother broke it.
“Haven?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“You’re sad,” Mae murmured. “Why are you sad, dolly?”
Haven smiled at the affectionate nickname her mother used to call her when she was just a girl. She’d been that peach and cream-skinned kid with big blue eyes, and pouty pink lips. Her blonde hair had fallen in ringlets down her back. Just like a pretty little China doll, she supposed.
Or that’s what her mom always said.
Hence, dolly.
“I’m not sad,” Haven was quick to lie. The last thing she needed to do was burden her mother with all the shit that had been happening in her life. She’d managed to keep Andino and that mess far away from their notice. She wanted to keep it that way, especially now. “I’m … nostalgic. Yeah, that’s the right word.”
It worked, anyway.
Mae made a dismissive noise. “Do you know when you lie, you almost ask things as a question when you mean to state them?”
“I do not!”
“Okay,” her mother drawled. “Haven, what’s wrong?”
Her gaze caught the white cardstock sitting on the edge of the counter. It was crumpled now, and a little bit bent from being caught in her doorway a month ago when Andino showed up. She’d had no contact with him since then other than that one phone call she initiated. He listened, and stayed away. She was grateful.
