Nearing the end of the road, I take a hard right through the open gate, and the sight of a black Bugatti La Voiture Noire makes me stumble.
As if my legs trip over an imaginary rope, I fall on the driveway, my knees hitting the hot concrete first. Then I drop to my side, rolling a few times from the momentum. “Motherfucker!” I hiss, yanking the damn earbuds from my ears.
Looking over at the car sitting in my parents’ driveway, I feel like a hurricane is about to destroy everything in my life without any warning. No time to board up my feelings and hide away from what I know will be catastrophic to my psyche.
Nothing involving that car is ever good. And the black Cadillac SUV with bulletproof windows parked beside it can only belong to one person.
Pushing up to my feet, I don’t even bother brushing off my bloody knees or elbows. Instead, I storm up the steps to the two glass front doors and shove them open. “Dad?” It bounces off the high ceilings and grand foyer. I can’t tell if my heart is pounding due to my fall or the fact that he’s here.
What the hell …?
“Dad!” I shout this time, storming down the long hallway and then running up the spiral staircase to his office on the second floor. I come to the closed door and don’t even bother knocking. Instead, I barge into it, sucking in breath after breath.
My gray sports bra is soaked in sweat, and my white capri yoga pants stick to my ass and legs as a result of my three-mile run. I don’t give a shit that I don’t look presentable and stink.
“Haven,” my father announces to the room, jumping up from his seat behind his desk. Clearing his throat, he looks me up and down, the disapproval clear in his blue eyes.
“What is going on?” I demand, not even bothering with introductions.
My eyes slide to the man who slowly stands to my right. He towers over me at every bit of six feet four. His jet black hair is parted on the right and combed over. His impressive charcoal suit with black button-down matches his shiny shoes. I know it costs him more than most hardworking men make in a year.
He looks the same as I remember him. Intimidating. Eyes so dark, they look like two endless black holes. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and the gold ring on his right hand looks like it could be used as a weapon. Why is he here? He lives in New York and very rarely makes appearances in Las Vegas. Well, or so I thought.
My father clears his throat. “Come here, Haven.”
I search the room for the set of eyes that haunts me every time I close mine, but I don’t see him.
“What’s going on?” I ask again, standing my ground.
“You’ve been sold.”
I spin around to face the man who spoke. He leans up against the wall next to the door I had just barged through. He’s got a pair of dark jeans on and a white fitted shirt. A cigarette sits tucked behind his ear and his tatted arms are crossed over his chest. His matching black eyes fall to my sweat-covered yoga pants. Matteo was never as funny as he thought he was.
I narrow my eyes on him, and he runs his tongue over his upper lip. Turning back to my father, I ignore his ass, knowing that he just wants to wind me up. “What’s really going on?”
He glares at Luca’s younger brother, then looks back at me, but he says nothing. My heart skips a beat when his hard features soften, and he lets out a sigh, regret flashing across his face.
“Daddy …” I walk over to this desk and place my sweaty hands on the cool surface. “What is going on?” I ask for a third time.
Looking down, I go to pick up the papers that sit on top of the dark wood, but he beats me to it and snatches them up.
“Are you deaf?” Matteo barks out. “I already told you. You’ve been sold.”
I turn once again to face him as he pushes off the wall. “Bullshit!” I snap. I don’t believe him for a second. “I am not for sale, and my father would never do that.”
Where the fuck is Luca?
The corners of his lips turn up, and he comes to a stop before me. “People will do a lot for money,” he says simply.
My stomach drops, but I shake my head. Sold? It’s not even an option. The thought is unfathomable and, not to mention, illegal. “No,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he replies, lifting his right hand to touch my bare stomach. “We’re here to collect. You’ll marry …”
“I won’t marry you!” I interrupt, shoving him away.
Is he insane?
Matteo was a sick son of a bitch growing up. The rumors about him at school would get a kid with lesser wealth thrown in prison for life, but the girls he chose to use never would step forward, and I hated it. The way he watched them walk by in the halls. The way he’d touch them without their permission, and they would physically shrink into themselves.
“You’re right. You won’t.” His eyes skim over my heaving chest, naked torso, and yoga pants-clad thighs. “But you will be a Bianchi, nonetheless.” He leans in closer, his lips nearly touching mine, and I have to swallow the bile that wants to rise at his closeness. He reeks of cigarettes and whores. The cheap kind. “And the Bianchis share everything they have.”
Is he talking about his brother?
I almost laugh. Luca didn’t want me then, and he won’t want me now. Not as his wife. If he was here, lying in my bed naked and hard, then his car being outside would maybe make sense. But this doesn’t.
I whip around to face my father once again, my loose hair slapping me in the face. “What the fuck is going on?” I shout, close to hysterics.
His face hardens. “Young lady, watch your language …”
I ignore him. “Tell me this is some kind of joke. Why are they really here?” I snap.
I know my father has done business with them in the past. But for Luca’s car to be out front is … unsettling, to say the least. He’s been gone for what feels like forever. Up and left me alone. He wouldn’t come back now. Not for me.
My father won’t look me in the eyes. He stares down at the papers in his hands, holding them out of my view. My heart pounds in my chest, and my voice breaks. “Daddy …”
“Haven.”
My chest tightens at the softness in his tone, and tears sting my eyes. “I won’t,” I say even though I’m sure that Matteo is lying. This has to be a mistake. A misunderstanding.
He slaps the edge of his desk with the papers. My father is a tall guy at six feet three. I’m only five feet four. But then again, I’m not his biological child. His dark blue eyes glare down at me, and I shrink back. “It’s done,” he growls. “I don’t wanna hear one more word from you!”
What’s done? I wonder, shaking my head, but I can’t make myself ask the words. A part of me knows, but I just don’t understand why. My father would never do this. I’ve gotten in trouble in the past with the police—had a couple of rowdy years—and I know I still live at home at twenty-four, but I’m not that big of a problem. He wouldn’t do this to get rid of me. Would he? “No.”
Marriage?
To Luca Bianchi?
Why now? Why him?
I look at his father. “He won’t agree to this.”
He looks me up and down the same way Matteo did and gives me a smile that would scare any grown man. “It was his idea.”
I take a step back from the desk, then another. I turn, yank open the door, and run out of his office. I stomp down the staircase, through the house, and out the back door. Tears run down my face, but I don’t stop as I run across the stone path yard. Then my shoes hit the patch of synthetic grass that my mother had my father put in years ago. I round the inground pool and come to the rock wall. I reach up, gripping a hold and place my shoes in an open slot. Looking up, I begin to climb, but I scream out, letting go and falling to my ass. Adding another bruise to my already black and blue body. I scramble back as the man I’ve tried so hard to forget jumps down from where he’s perched at the top. He was sitting in my favorite spot, waiting on me.
“Get back!” I shout.
Luca Bianchi stands before me
with his hands tucked in his jeans. It’s May, and he has a black leather jacket on over his white T-shirt but has left it unzipped. He always wears it. Some would think it’s ’cause he’s cold natured, but I know it’s to hide the gun and holster he wears. Last time I saw him was almost two years in this very spot. He lied to me, and then he left me. No text. No letter. Nothing. It was a common occurrence.
For too long I’ve been playing this cat and mouse game.
He no longer looks like the boy I once fell in love with. He was always on the skinny side back then, but he’s filled out in all the right places. From what I can see, his arms are bigger, and he no longer shaves his face. He keeps it trimmed short, giving him a five o’clock shadow. And I hate how much I like it. How much it makes him look like a man.
His dark eyes rake over my bruised knees, my earlier fall leaving a hole in my yoga pants. Now the white spandex material is covered in blood along with dirt. Then they trail up my naked stomach and to my sports bra, and my nipples harden when he licks his luscious lips.
I cross my arms over my chest to try to cover them.
He grips his jeans-clad thighs, pulling them up to allow him to kneel before me. “Hello, Haven.”
Dread washes over me. Like a wave shoving me under the water, holding me hostage. “Why are you here, Luca? And don’t give me any bullshit.”
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes never leaving mine, and it makes me nervous. As if he’s searching for something. I was always an open book when it came to him. Not only could he read my thoughts, but he would use my body. I would spread my legs for him like an avid reader would turn the pages of a book.
My heart pounds, and my breathing increases. I think I’m gonna hyperventilate. Pass out.
“What do you mean by bullshit?” he asks.
He still takes me as a naïve woman who will believe everything he says. I’ve changed just as much on the inside as he has on the outside. My eyes narrow on him. “Cut the shit.”
He sighs. “I’m here to give you what you’ve always wanted.”
I eye him skeptically. The Bianchi men aren’t fucking genies. They don’t grant anyone a wish they want, unless it’s something they know that can benefit them. “What I’ve always wanted?”
He reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket. My mouth goes dry at the sight of a black velvet box. “Luca …”
“Me.”
The single word has tears stinging my eyes, and my chest tightens. I wanted this for so long. For him to love me and want me. But it’s a lie, and I won’t live a life based on a lie. Not with him. Not for anyone.
“This is your favorite place.” He gestures to the rock wall. I used to love to climb it before jumping into the pool. “This is where I first kissed you. Where I first told you I loved you.” I flinch at those words. Just more lies. “Where I first fucked you …”
“I get it!” I snap, pushing to my feet, and take a step back from him. He rises too and grips the box in his hand. My face tells him all he needs to know, and he is not pleased.
“I won’t marry you.” I shake my head, forcing my lips to say the words out loud no matter how much it hurts my heart. He’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“This isn’t up for debate,” he growls.
My head is spinning. I can’t understand why he is here. Why he all of a sudden wants me. And to be his wife of all things. “Luca …”
“Do you know what I had to do to make this happen?”
My fear quickly turns to anger. What he had to do? “Don’t try to make this sound like you want me,” I snap. “This is only to benefit you in some way.”
“Haven …”
“Or you would have married me two years ago …” Tears sting my eyes.
“That was a long time ago,” he says through gritted teeth.
“It still happened.” I throw my arms out wide. “Right here in this very spot.”
“Yes, and I regret it,” he snaps.
My chest tightens at his words, and the first tear falls. His narrowed eyes soften, and he runs a hand through his dark hair, the action opening his leather jacket and showing me the black grip of his gun. My eyes go to his when he releases a sigh.
“I didn’t mean that.”
I swallow around the massive lump in my throat and try to control my breathing and calm my racing heart. I don’t want to show him how much his words hurt me. I gave up on us a long time ago. But every time I finally felt ready to move on, he’d enter my life, and I’d fall back into his trap like the weak woman I am.
I hate it.
I hate myself.
“No, for once, you said exactly how you feel.” I sniff, running my hands down my face to erase the tears, and then I square my shoulders. “You don’t have to pretend you want to be with me. Don’t do me any favors.” I turn, giving him my back, and return to the house. He follows me, but he remains silent.
Entering the back door, I make sure to slam it shut in his face. I hear him let out a curse before it’s ripped open. I don’t stop. Instead, I pick up my pace until I’m running down the hallway to the front of the house and take a right. I pass the guest bathroom and game room before I enter my room and gasp.
My entire Louis Vuitton luggage set sits on the floor at the foot of my bed along with my purse and backpack. “What the …?” I spin around to see Luca leaning against my doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and eyes on mine. He watches me with a look of annoyance. Like he has somewhere to be, and I’m keeping him against his will. That tightness returns to my chest, and I shake my head as those damn tears begin to sting my eyes once again. “No.” That’s all I can say.
He pushes off the doorframe and walks over to me. I want to back away, but I’m frozen where I stand. Cupping my tear-streaked cheek, he whispers, “You belong to me now, Haven. And it’s time to go home.”
LUCA
Two years ago
I sit on the rock wall, waiting for her to meet me. She told me she’d be here at eight, and it’s now almost nine. I pull the leather jacket tighter around my chest, trying to block out the cold. For some godforsaken reason, it started snowing in Las Vegas twenty minutes ago. And the fact that the sun has set doesn’t help.
Where the fuck is she?
At first, I was worried. I blew up her phone with calls and messages, but she ignored them all.
My teeth grind, and my fists clench. I’m Luca Bianchi, and I don’t wait for any woman.
Making up my mind, I jump down from the wall. Just as I take my first step, I see her brown hair blowing in the wind. She has the white ski jacket on that I bought her last year for Christmas before I went with her and her family on their trip to the Alps.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket and start walking over to her. “Where the fuck have you been?” I demand.
She has her head down, staring at the ground. The snow falls on her hair but melts instantly.
“Haven?” I snap, coming up to her. “I’ve been out here freezing my ass off.” Gripping her chin, I force her to look up at me, and her light brown tear-filled eyes meet mine.
“I’m sorry.” Her perfectly white teeth chatter.
“Hey.” I open my jacket and pull her body flush with mine immediately. “What happened?” I rub my hands along her back, trying to warm her up. Her body trembles against mine. “Did something happen at school?” I wonder.
She’s a senior this year in college. And that thought terrifies me. We haven’t discussed what she will do after graduation. I’ve never had a choice. The family business is what I live for. It’s what I was made for. But her? She could do anything. Go anywhere. The thought of her moving on and walking away from me is paralyzing, but inevitable. Especially since I have no choice but to leave her.
She shakes her head and grips my shirt. “I just need you.”
My chest swells at her words. I love how much she loves me, how much she needs me, but I know she’s lying. “Tell me. What’s wrong? I’ll take
care of it.”
I know her father does work with mine. He’s in with the Mafia, and it scares the shit out of me. I’ve seen what they can do. Hell, I’ve done it. I wish I could shield her from what I know waits around the corner because she doesn’t deserve this life. The bloody bodies and blackmail. Maybe her leaving Nevada could be the best thing for her. Maybe me leaving her is the best thing for her.
She pulls back, her dark eyes look up into mine, and a single tear runs down her face. “I love you,” she whispers brokenly.
Reaching up, I cup her cold cheek. “I love you, Haven.”
“Run away with me.”
“What?”
She pulls away from my arms, and I allow it, too stunned by her words. “Run away with me.” She takes my hands, and a smile graces her gorgeous face. “Please, Luca? I know where my father has a lot of money stashed. I can get it, and we can run away. We can change our names and move to an island where no one will ever find us. Just you and me.” She releases me and places her hands flat on my chest.
I remove them and take a step back from her. Her face falls and so does my stomach as I say. “I can’t.”
“You have to. I overheard …” She stops herself. Her eyes widen for the briefest second, and she licks her lips, wrapping her arms around herself.
My jaw tightens. “What did you hear?”
She bites her bottom lip nervously.
“Haven?” I snap, gripping her shoulders. “What did you hear?”
She sniffs. “Your dad was here. And I overheard him telling mine that he’s sending you on a job.”
Fuck!
“You’re going to Italy,” she cries, breaking her silence. “He’s sending you away, Luca. He’s going to make you …” She trails off, staring up at me. Her face morphs from panic, to pain, and then to anger. “You know,” she whispers. “What … when …?” She shakes her head.
Code of Silence Page 3
