“Hello?”
“Natalie, it’s me, Salvatore.”
“Hey, Salvatore. How are you?”
“Okay.” Not really. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just playing with Jacob.”
“Can I drop by?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, then added, “you know.” Natalie was the one person who knew me for who I really was. I trusted Marco, my bodyguard, but he didn’t know this side of me. I didn’t trust anyone enough to share this vulnerability. Too many people ready and waiting for weakness.
“Come on over.”
“Thanks. See you in twenty minutes.”
I drove to her house, a two-story brick home about forty-five minutes from mine. Her parents lived nearby, and she’d moved here specifically to be close to them. When I rang the doorbell, Natalie answered with Jacob perched on her hip. He still wore his pajamas and held the stuffed animal I’d given him on his first birthday. He gave me a huge gummy smile. He only had three teeth, although I could see the fourth one was working its way in.
“Wow, haven’t you grown.” I took Jacob from Natalie’s arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck and planted a wet kiss on my face.
“Nice,” Natalie said. “You look…not so good.”
She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek after wiping off the mark Jacob had left.
“Come in.”
I put Jacob down on the floor among his toys, which seemed to be everywhere.
“Espresso?”
“Please.” I took a seat on the couch and watched Jacob play while Natalie made espresso and then joined me in the living room.
“How was the funeral?”
“Shitty.” I took a sip of the espresso she handed me, dark and rich and bitter as hell, just the way I liked it. “He’s got Sergio’s eyes,” I said, taking the toy Jacob held out to me.
Natalie stroked the little boy’s hair. “And his stubborn streak.”
“I don’t know. I think you may both be responsible for that one.”
She smiled. “You could be right on that. What’s up, Salvatore?”
“Lucia’s home with me.”
Natalie nodded, knowing the situation. “How’s that going?”
“Well, she’s been there less than twenty-four hours, and I think I’ve fucked it up pretty well.” I drank the last sip of espresso.
“Want to talk about it?”
What could I tell her? What could I tell her that wouldn’t make me sound like a monster? Like my father. Hell, he would have been proud of me this morning.
“She hates me, as expected. She is battling me at every turn. Stubborn as hell.”
“She’s only been with you since the funeral?”
I nodded.
“Then you must really be pissing her off.” She winked. “Just give her some space. It’s a huge change for her, and her father just died. Suicide, right?”
“Looked that way.”
“You don’t believe it?”
“I don’t believe anything unless I see it with my own two eyes.”
She studied me but dropped it. “What’s she like?”
“Pretty. Young. Scared. She spit on my father at the funeral. Or tried to but missed.” I chuckled.
“Tough too, then. I like her already.”
“And full of hate for us. Rightfully so. I guess that’s where I’m torn. She can’t get out of this. Neither of us can.” I paused. “Until death do us part.”
“That’s not too creepy.” Natalie looked away for a moment.
“That’s the wording in the contract. Like a marriage contract, but different. And if I die before her, Dominic inherits her. Like she’s a fucking thing. My father has a sick sense of humor, as you know.”
Her lip curled at the mention of his name. “Do you want to get out of it?”
Her question startled me. I answered without hesitation. “No.”
“You like her.”
I studied Natalie and felt the need to correct what she said. Whether that correction was for my benefit or hers, I wasn’t sure. “I feel some obligation to her.”
She snorted.
“Besides, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t get out of it. And she certainly couldn’t. I don’t want her to hate me.”
“Give her some space and some time, Salvatore,” Natalie said, touching my hand. “She just needs to really see you, like I do. She only sees the Benedetti name right now. The Benedetti family, the one that destroyed hers.”
She was right.
“Maybe you could…”
Natalie shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t be a part of that anymore.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“I understand. It’s okay. I just think she needs some friends or something.”
“I’m sorry, I just—”
I touched her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
An awkward silence hung between us.
“Do you need anything?” I finally asked.
She shook her head. “No, we’re fine. We’re good.”
“You’ll call me if you do, right?”
“I promise.”
“I miss Sergio.” My eyes felt hot.
“Me too.” Natalie wiped hers before leaning against my chest. I hugged her, rubbing her back.
“Hey, I’m going to take Jacob to the beach a little later. Why don’t you come with us?”
I nodded, not really having to think about it. I didn’t want to go home. I’d bury my head in the sand for a little bit longer. “I’d like that.”
“Good.”
Jacob stood then, holding out two of the farm animals he was playing with. Both were a little wet from drool, but I took them. He stood leaning against my legs, babbling.
“That so?” I asked, not really understanding a word he said.
Natalie chuckled and stood. “More coffee?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Jacob, Uncle Salvatore’s going to come with us to the beach. What do you think of that, honey?
Jacob leaned his face into my leg and smiled, still “talking.” I made out the word beach then something sounding like uncle in there before he gave me a cuddle. I cuddled him back.
I’d spend the day here. It would be good for me. And I’d think about what Natalie said about giving Lucia time and space. I could do that. It would help me get my thoughts figured out.
7
Lucia
I was a prisoner here.
I spent the day in my bedroom. I slept a little, then read and slept some more. Rainey brought me a tray at lunchtime when I told her I wasn’t feeling well, and then another at dinnertime. I didn’t ask where Salvatore was or what he was doing. Didn’t know if he’d just come barging in here and demand things from me. Punish me. Humiliate me. But he never did. When Rainey came to clear my dinner tray, I finally got up the nerve to ask.
“Is Salvatore home?”
“No, ma’am. He called a little while ago to say he wouldn’t be home tonight.”
So was he spending the night somewhere else? Where? With whom? And why did I care? At least he wouldn’t hurt me, not if he wasn’t here.
But Salvatore didn’t come home the next night either. Unable to hide in my room any longer, I finally left it late the following morning and gave myself a tour of the house, looking around in the corners, behind plants, for cameras. I wouldn’t be surprised to find them. He’d said I had free rein of the house apart from his study and bedroom. Of course, the first thing I did was try his study door but found it locked. The bedroom, too, was locked, but when I saw the maid slip out of the room, I tried the door. She’d forgotten to lock it behind her.
I looked around to make sure no one was watching and slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind me. I spent a long moment with my back against it, trying to calm my breathing, knowing if he found out I was in here, that I’d disobeyed, he’d punish me. And yet I felt like a triumphant, defiant
kid who’d taken the piece of candy she wasn’t allowed to have.
I pushed away from the door and looked around. The room was about twice as large as mine, and the furnishings were all dark wood or metal, the carpet and drapes shades of blue to match his eyes in all his moods. Leather panels covered the whole of the wall behind the four steel frames of the bed, which was perfectly made, all corners tucked neatly in, since he’d not slept here for two nights now.
The connecting door to my room had a key in the lock. Figured it’d be on his side. Another door led to a bathroom similar to mine, just larger, this one containing black towels and bath accessories, nothing feminine about the space.
The final door opened to a closet. I stepped into it, chuckling at the inch of space between each of the black velvet hangers that contained suits, jackets, and pants on one side, dress shirts sorted by color along another wall, and more casual wear, again, grouped by color and perfectly spaced along the final one. Three dozen pairs of shoes filled the neat little show racks, and two shelves contained belts. Ties were rolled on their own cushions, the color coding continuing even there. The drawers held underwear and socks. Everyday items. Things I for some reason could not associate with the man who owned the house.
I ran a hand over the suits, then dragged them a little, messing up the OCD spacing, thinking it funny for a moment. But then I found myself inhaling deeply. I shook my head and walked back into the bedroom.
It smelled like him in here.
I tentatively touched one of the cool steel posts of the bed as I thought about what I was doing, not feeling quite good about it. I perched myself on the edge of the bed and told myself I needed to do this. To break his rules and invade his privacy like he had mine. To take back some of the power he’d taken from me when he’d made me do what he did.
The surface of the nightstand had just been dusted. I ran a finger over it before opening the drawer and peeking inside. It was empty.
I walked to the other side of the bed. The book lying beside the lamp told me this was the side he slept on. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the drawer open less cautiously this time. This one wasn’t empty. I reached in and took out a bottle of what I thought was hand cream, but when I read the label, I quickly set it back down. It was a half-empty container of lubricant. Digging deeper, I found a row of condoms and behind that, a set of handcuffs.
Voices outside the door had me quickly shoving the things back inside the drawer, and when the door opened, I dropped to the floor and slid underneath the bed.
The women spoke, and I saw the one come inside to pick up the bucket she’d left in the bathroom before walking back out the door. This time, she didn’t forget to lock it behind her.
“Shit!”
I made my way out from under the bed. That was when I saw the leather restraint that hung off the post. Curious, I sat up and pulled it out from behind the cover. I then walked over to the post at the foot and found a similar one, and two more on the other posts.
I grinned. This was a side of Salvatore I hadn’t considered, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
But now wasn’t the time to think about that. I had a bigger problem. I had to get out of his bedroom.
It took me thirty-five minutes to finally pick the lock and get into my own bedroom. Feeling like some sort of thief, I picked up my cell phone, which I’d been charging since it had run down completely. It showed six missed calls. All from Isabella. No texts, but voice mails after each one.
“Hey, Luce. Call me when you get this.”
“Checking in, Luce. You there?”
“Um, I’m feeling like a stalker. You can’t still be mad at me. Hell, you can be whatever you want. Shit, I’d be pissed. Okay, please don’t be mad at me.”
“Fuck.” Effie’s voice in the background, then my sister again. “No, honey, mommy didn’t say a bad word.”
I smiled.
“Lucia, if you don’t call me back right now, I’m getting in my car and driving over there!”
“Fuck. I’m on my way!”
I checked the time of the messages. The last one was from about an hour and a half ago. Which meant she’d be here any minute.
I pocketed the phone and ran out the door. On my way down the stairs, I heard a voice I recognized as Marco’s. I paused on the stairs, listening.
“She’s got a visitor.”
He must have been talking into a phone because I didn’t hear another voice. He mumbled, “Okay, boss,” and hung up.
When I heard his footsteps, I headed down the stairs, noting the room he’d come from. He looked up at me.
“Good afternoon.”
Marco was always around, but at least he stayed out of my way. “Afternoon.”
I heard a car door close and turned toward the front door. From the side window, I spotted my sister taking in the mansion before opening the back door to help Effie out.
“Your sister’s here,” Marco said, reaching the front door ahead of me.
“I can see that.”
“Mr. Benedetti has given his permission for you to see her.” He opened the door, but his comment made me stop and turn to him.
“Really? He’s given his permission?” Asshole.
Marco faced me and was about to say something, but Isabella spoke first.
“Well, it is remote and it is protected,” she said. “I wasn’t sure they were going to open the gates for a minute there.” She came right to me, looked me over from head to toe, and pulled me in for a hug.
I yielded right away, her warmth something I’d missed, something I cherished. It made me feel protected.
“Izzy.” I used the name I used to call her when I was little and couldn’t say her full name. It had stuck. I was the only person who called her that.
She pulled back and looked at me. I wiped at my eyes but apparently not quickly enough because I saw the concern in hers. She glanced at Marco, who stood stupidly watching us.
I hated him.
“Mommy.” Effie tugged on her mom’s skirt. “The gift.”
Her high-pitched voice made me smile. She held up a box. I could see from the torn wrapping that it contained chocolates.
“Why don’t you give it to Aunt Lucia, and explain why the wrapping’s been torn.”
Effie turned to me and offered up the box. “I started to open it for you to help you.”
“Is that really why?” Izzy asked.
I gave Izzy a look. So did Effie.
I bent down to take the box from her, trying to keep a straight face. “Is this what I think it is? My favorite chocolates?” I asked, picking up an end of the wrapping and peeking inside the torn paper. “Maybe you can help me get the rest of the wrapping off.” She happily took the box and tore off the gift wrap.
“Yep. They’re my favorite too.” She reluctantly held the box out to me.
“You hold on to it. We should probably eat some, though. What do you think?”
“I definitely think we should eat some!”
I straightened and looked around, noticing how Marco hovered. “Let’s go into the living room.”
With a hand on the top of Effie’s head, I followed him to the spacious room adjoining the dining room. The sun shone bright, and the swimming pool glistened blue just beyond the large patio.
“God, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Izzy asked.
“It is.”
“Did you bring my swimsuit, Mommy?” Effie asked, her attention focused on the pool.
I looked at my sister, who rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t know they had a pool, so no.”
Effie gave her a look, which made me cover my mouth to hide the chuckle.
“How would I know? It’s my first time here,” Izzy protested.
“How about something to drink,” I asked just as Rainey walked in. She smiled warmly, and I introduced everyone.
“What would you like? I have some homemade lemonade maybe for the little one?”
“Actu
ally, for me too,” Izzy said.
“Homemade?”
Izzy nodded.
“Make it three then, please,” I said. Rainey had been my only point of contact over the last couple of days. My world had always been small, but now, it had become miniscule.
Rainey nodded and returned to the kitchen. Marco remained in the room with us. Izzy and I both eyed him while Effie worked on getting the plastic off the box of chocolates.
“Are you just going to stand there?” I asked him.
He looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“I want to have a visit with my sister. Surely you don’t have to monitor every word I say. I promise, it won’t be that interesting.”
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed on the marble floors. We all turned as Salvatore entered the room. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, the V-neck clinging to his sculpted body. His cobalt-blue eyes locked on mine, and my heartbeat quickened, my body suddenly tingling, nipples tightening, every hair standing on end.
A moment later, he released me from his gaze, his posture relaxing as he nodded to my sister and smiled at Effie struggling with the plastic.
“Thanks, Marco. You can go,” he said.
Marco nodded and left the room. Salvatore walked over to Izzy.
“I don’t think I’ve met Lucia’s sister officially. I’m Salvatore Benedetti.”
She took his hand. “Isabella DeMarco.”
“Good to meet you. And this is?”
Effie looked up. “Got it!” She held up the plastic triumphantly, then checked out Salvatore. “I’m Effie,” she said, rising to her feet from the floor and holding out her hand.
Salvatore took it. “Nice to meet you, Effie.”
Rainey walked in with a tray and set the glasses of lemonade down on the coffee table. We stood awkwardly.
“I’ll let you and your sister have some privacy,” Salvatore finally said, his tone casual, his gaze wavering. “I’m going to take a shower.”
He waited. My body still did that vibrating, tingling thing as the air crackled between us.
“Thank you,” I finally said.
He nodded and left the room. We watched him go. Only when he was out of the room did either of us breathe. My thoughts wandered to what I’d found in his room. I wondered if he’d think he’d forgotten to lock the door between our bedrooms, or if he’d know I’d broken in.
Salvatore: a Dark Mafia Romance Page 7
