Femme Fatale Loved (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  “I know the idea of me being a mole was a questionable thought, but that was never an option for me. I entered your family for one reason and one reason only ... to make the girl I love fall in love with me for life.”

  “Fools the both of you,” Alberto snarls.

  “Maybe so,” I say, choosing my own time to speak up. “But I was lucky enough to be granted with a man who loves me enough to enter a family of lunatics. We could’ve had the best of both worlds if your true intents weren’t so killer.”

  My uncle’s face hardens, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under. “Your hearts are too big for you to be a true, Abbiati.”

  “Guess I’ll have to thank my mother for that in tonight’s prayers,” I remark, surprisingly jolly. “She may be dead, but she still lives on in all of us.” I turn to Zane, unable to stay among these men. “Can we go?”

  “Of course,” Zane agrees, putting his arm around my shoulder. “Let’s leave them to whatever business they have.”

  “I left some scaloppine al marsala in there with a killer punch; not like Madre used to make it, but it’s to her recipe with a new generation twist.” The sound of that recipe name wakes my father up. “Giovanni thinks it’s an old batch of his poison. Shame, really, ‘cause it’s just a little extra red-hot peppers.”

  I watch my father’s lips twitch, a smile wanting to strike to life on his face. I also notice a slight molecule of pride flash in his eyes as he watches me. I feel like he finally sees the woman I always struggled to be under his reign. I could’ve done so much more for him if I wasn’t always expected to perform how I always did.

  “You don’t need actions to kill someone. I wish you’d have known that long ago.”

  I take Zane’s hand in mine, and he knows it’s time to leave as he twirls me on the spot, releasing my hand only to push the small of my back and lead me away. When we far enough away, his arm comes around my back and his hand curls around my hip so he can lean down and whisper in my ear. “I think that baby’s making you a feisty mama.”

  “If I were you, I’d be worried about the dominant nature it’s bringing out in me.”

  “That’s nothing new,” Zane jests, laughing mirthfully. “Sometimes, I let you wear the trousers, so I can walk around without any pants on. It’s liberating.”

  “Is that the reason?” I ask, stifling my laughter. He nods proudly, looking down at me. “Is that the story you’re sticking with?”

  “Yup.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” I mock as I hit the button to bring the elevator to our floor and turn to face him properly.

  “Just how you love it,” he says, dragging me close to him, and while I think he’s going to kiss me, he starts to tickle me, catching all of my most sensitive places.

  As I giggle, feeling Zane kissing me while we wait for the elevator, I catch my father lingering in the doorway of Giovanni’s hospital room. He’s watching Zane and me, and although I’m aware of his watchful gaze, I don’t stop my giggling as Zane starts to kiss my neck.

  As he disappears into the room, I realize he’s well aware of just how happy I now am.

  “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

  ***

  “I want champagne,” I moan, whining pathetically as I hold my flute of orange juice up to everyone else’s bubbly champagne.

  “Only another seven months to go,” Dante jokes, and I growl at him.

  “Even then, she’ll have to be careful if she opts to breastfeed,” Allana notes, watching me. “Trust me, the time will fly by.”

  “Plus, I think it’s a fair trade, vita mia,” Zane muses, putting an arm around my shoulder before continuing, “Sobriety for a baby.”

  “Mmm, true but you know I like my liquor.”

  “We’ll have to find you another vice,” Zane jokes, quipping at me lightly. “I mean, there’s got to be something you can get equal pleasure out of.”

  My lips twist as I think about what could possibly taste as good as that initial burn of alcohol down your throat. “I can think of a few things.”

  “Don’t continue that thought!” Carlo bursts, stopping us from going further. Just as he does, his cell begins to ring. “Excuse me,” Carlo apologizes before taking his cell out of his pocket and answering it, leaving the group to stand at the side.

  As he paces just too far away from us, I turn the conversation to a matter that’s been annoying me since we gathered in preparation to commemorate Manuel. We’ve spent all evening talking about our baby brother – what we loved about him and what we hated, not that there was a lot. We spoke about discussing what life had ready for him, how he’d have adapted to being able to love freely. While some parts filled me with sorrow, I reminded myself of my own teaching – no wallowing. We were here to remember Manuel, not to cry over losing him as if it had just happened.

  I cough, clearing my throat of the suffocating lump forming. “Gio said there was a threat out against me,” I admit, my breathing quickening as the thought settles.

  “And you believed him?” Bruno asked curiously.

  “I don’t want to!” I protest, exclaiming as I go. “But how can I not when we come from the family we do? We pissed off many people to get here. I personally pissed off a lot of people.”

  “But why now?” Enzo questions, inquisitive as he poses his questions.

  “I don’t know. I’m not a criminal mastermind with a vendetta.” I can feel my voice trying to heighten, and I’m struggling to keep calm. “I told Sal that if there were any threats, it’s his responsibility to get rid of them. I said he used to make us untouchable, so it’s time he did that again.”

  “Would he do that even without being a part of the family?”

  “The man will do anything to win you guys over,” Dante voices, looking uneasy about my revelation. “So yeah, I think he’ll pull out all of the stops to make sure you’re all well protected.”

  “It’s almost midnight,” Alessa announces as she comes back into the dimly lit yard. “Who’s lighting the candle?”

  “I will,” I offer, reaching for the lighter. “Should we wait for Carlo?” I ask, but he waves me off, and I wonder what’s more important than missing this moment.

  “Just do it. It has to be important for him to skip over this,” Enzo alerts, coming to stand by me.

  I ready the lighter by the wick of the Roman candle, click to light the fuse, and wait for the candle to come to life.

  “Another year gone, baby brother, but never forgotten,” I whisper as I watch the wick struggle to catch fire.

  Enzo notices Carlo coming back, his frown causing us all to truly look at his ghostly white features. “Carlo, what’s up?”

  “That was my informant who was dealing with Giovanni.” He looks back and forth between all of us, his pupils wide and piercing as he flicks his gaze around. "Gio's dead."

  The words echo out just as my candlewick catches the flame and burns in memoriam for our little brother - justice has finally been found, apparently.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “If I asked you, would you quit?”

  I turn to face where the question is coming from and am met with Dante’s cheeky grin. He wags his eyebrows at me as if for effect before crossing his arms over his broad chest. He’s dressed in loose dark denim jeans and a baggy white tee that ripples over every curve of his muscular physique. I can tell from the slight crookedness of his grin that he’s up to something.

  “You’d have to be crazy if I said yes to that,” I say, albeit disappointedly. I feel like I’m going to be stuck here forever while I try to pick a course for my life to go down apart from fiancée and mother-to-be. “I need the money, and they offer flexible hours here.”

  “And when the baby’s born?” Dante asks, smirking at me as he knows he’s raised a good point.

  “Well, they know, so if they fire me, that’ll be down to them. I never took this job with the intent to get pregnant.” I frown but lick my lips with the unease that ha
s now befallen me. “They weren’t too happy.”

  “Well, no one wants a hot yet heavily pregnant barmaid,” he jokes, trying to be funny, but it irritates me. “Especially when only at thirteen weeks, you’re starting to show quite the bump already.”

  I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to punch him, and head back over to the bar.

  “Did you come here for anything or just to ridicule me?” I ask, peeved, and slam a clean glass onto the bar top, before filling a quarter of it with scotch. I slide it over to him and place my hands on the bar, trying to ease my frustration. “Because I could really do without your incessant teasing about how I’m going to look like a whale if I continue to balloon like I am, you insensitive cogliogne.”

  He sniggers; we both know he’s purely playing, but when I have a boss who doesn’t give a shit about his workers, adding a baby to the mix became a stupid idea. Now, I have my best friend constantly making jokes at me.

  “Well,” Dante begins, pulling a barstool out and hopping onto it. He snatches up the glass and leans in across the bar. “That’s why I’m here.”

  My look is pure skepticism as I try to guess his true motives. “Right.”

  “If I could promise you something better than this, would you believe me?” he asks, and I shake my head. “When do you clock off?”

  “Not for another four hours,” I reply, deadpan. “Would I look this miserable if I was close to getting out of here?”

  “Well, no. You do look downright fucking depressed right now,” he quips, choosing now to mock me. He’s just lucky there is a bar between us. “Willing to take a leap of faith?” he asks, and his eyes begin to twinkle. “Like old times.”

  I remain silent; I don’t want to be rash and cause Zane and me some massive financial stress.

  “Would I ever lead you astray without good reason?” Dante asks me, even reaching out to take my hand. “Amelia, I promise I am not out to ruin your life. I’ve seen the life you live – it’s the same I did. But I had no one to help me get my feet off the ground, so let me help. Take that leap of faith and trust me with what I have to show you.”

  Trusting in him, I pull away from him, making my way to the other side of the bar and grabbing my bag from under the bar as I go.

  “Hey, Steven?” I call out to my boss, and he looks around to me. “No need to worry about what you’re going to do with my pregnant self. I’m making it easier for you ... I quit!”

  “You can’t quit!”

  “I think I can,” I reply. “I’ll send my fiancé for my last paycheck,” I comment, going over to Dante so we can do a quick exit.

  “No, no,” Dante replies, stopping me. “The lady will take her final pay now.”

  “Er, no, you won’t,” Stephen replies, advancing toward me. “That little bit there isn’t getting a final wage out of me if she’s leaving me in the lurch like this.”

  I watch Dante’s demeanor begin to change. He immediately begins to crack his knuckles as he stomps to meet Stephen halfway. He squares up to Stephen, ending up being taller as he towers over my boss.

  “You’ll give the lady her money, or I’ll take it from the register myself.”

  “And if I were you, I’d slip her a little bonus for working with a bastardo like yourself.” He watches Stephen go to deny, but Dante growls, rage fueling the moment. “It’s that, or I’ll be back to pay a visit when it’s closing time. That or I’ll go to people I know about how unfairly you treat pregnant employees. No one will want to deal with a man who mistreats a pregnant lady. I don’t like men who mistreat women period.” He folds his arms over his chest. “So I suggest you pay the lady and let her leave.”

  Stephen sidesteps Dante, rushing to the bar to get to the register. He pulls out a wad of cash; he doesn’t even count it just brings it over to Dante. He barely even looks at me as he does all of this, and I struggle with the smugness that threatens to smother me. It’s been a long time since I wanted to see this, always stopping Zane from standing up to defend me because it was my job.

  “Now, get out,” Stephen says as he pushes the money at Dante

  “No way to talk to a business associate, Stephen,” Dante mocks in a sardonic tone. “You should watch who you do business with. Just because you paid her doesn’t mean it’s a done deal. We’re still doing business until we leave this shithole.”

  Turning away, Dante approaches me, money in one hand as his other arm comes around my shoulder to lead me to the entrance. As we pass the threshold, I finally feel like a majority of stress is lifting away with every step. Although I have no idea what Dante’s leading me into, I know I don’t have to worry about what will happen with me when the baby arrives.

  “Is that all you get paid a week?” Dante asks, passing the money over.

  I shrug. “No one really wants to hire an unqualified girl with no work history. Plus, this is more than I usually get ... ever.”

  “I’m fucking ecstatic you decided to listen to me then.”

  We rush out and get into Dante’s Mustang. It’s one he rented, but I know it’s one he’ll hate giving back. As I sink into the passenger seat, and we’re cloistered in the confines of the car, my eyes start to go wide, and I feel reality drizzle on me like the coldest of rains.

  “What the fuck did I just do?!”

  I look at him as he starts the engine, and I wonder if it’s too late to clamber out and go and beg for my job back.

  “The right decision,” he says and puts his foot on the gas and releases the handbrake, drawing us out into the traffic and preventing my escape. “Trust me, piccola, I would never lead you astray.”

  “You used to,” I quip dryly, my voice almost a mutter. “I never used to like liquor until you got me drinking it.”

  “Now, you drink like one of the boys,” he jokes, laughing. “Amelia, I understand your current predicament and what I’m doing right now is helping with that. Now, will you just relax and allow me to show you something special?”

  “Okay,” I say and force myself to slip into the chair, begging my muscles to go slack.

  “Good because you’ve been too stressed these past few weeks, and it’s not healthy. Not for you and definitely not for the bambino.”

  I have to admit he’s right. It’s been almost five weeks since we received news that Giovanni died, and life sauntered on in an easy manner. No one mourned the loss, not one of us went to the funeral, and after the question of ‘whodunnit?’, we surpassed the issue of not having a clue who killed him. From what Carlo found out, it was all purely down to natural causes. After seeing my father and uncle together, I have my suspicions.

  In that time, Zane properly met our child, and I’ve undergone testing to find out if I’ll be healthy enough to carry to full term. While my OB-GYN can’t find any reason why I shouldn’t seeing as I healed better than anyone had thought, I still wonder if the ghost of Gio will come and haunt us. Zane’s been amazing at easing my mind, reminding me that I’m only so worried about the baby because of what I was told when I first woke up after the attack. But now was time to enjoy my pregnancy and get excited about choosing colors for the nursery. I love shopping for baby clothes, watching my body growing and adapt to accommodate our child.

  And I was starting to until my boss flaunted the word ‘redundancy’ in my face, vowing he would find fault and reason to fire me before I had a chance to fight. I guess Dante’s giving me a new choice, and I just hope it will fulfill me. It stops me from having to fight a new fight for unfair dismissal and allowing my stress levels to skyrocket.

  “Where are we really going?” I ask, trying to distract my thoughts.

  “I have something I want to show you,” he muses as we continue to drive.

  I pout; that’s all the men have said to me these past few weeks. “All of you men are just too busy at the moment. You’ve all got your own little projects going on.”

  “Well, we’re working toward great things for the women in our lives.”

  “But you
still haven’t said where we’re going,” I comment, turning in my seat, lifting the seat belt off my stomach to give me a little more room. “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll see soon,” Dante remarks, not taking his eyes away from the road. “You’re insufferable with being unable to wait for surprises.”

  “Well, I have a curious disposition, so shoot me,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest as I turn to face the front. I only know we’re heading further into Manhattan, but we’re not heading to anywhere familiar to me. I’m trying to make sense, but before I can, Dante’s pulling up in front of a building. I look around trying to see if I notice anything of any importance. I don’t.

  However, as Dante climbs out of the Mustang, I follow. It’s robotic, and I can’t stay in the car when I want to know what the hell has us here. I look over the roof of the car and catch Dante smiling at me. He doesn’t say a thing, merely gestures for me to join him. Which I do, but instead of asking questions, I look up at the building. When I drag my gaze back down, I notice the front. While looking impressively classy, the windows are covered, and there is no sign above the door.

  “Is this why you refuse to go back to California?” I ask, tearing my eyes away from the grand front.

  “Yeah,” he says, and I sense a coyness about him. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while and saw my opportunity. I needed a good location, and I found it.” He comes to stand beside me as I look around the area. “Plus Point Bar. Where I believe you met Zane is just around the corner.”

  I gasp, looking at him for answers, but he remains shielded to offering me any details that could help me understand what is going on here. Why would he pick this location of all?

  “C’mon, I want to show you what’s going on inside.”

  He leads me inside, holding the door for me to bypass him into the empty space. I notice the booths lining the wall to our right; large black booths with gold studs for detail take precedence with gold plated tables. The floor is dark; in this lighting, it looks black. I notice the color scheme immediately and fall a little in love.