by Cecy Robson
Shit.
We sit in a quiet booth away from the noise of the main dining area. But when the waiter spouts the special and leaves to put in our drink order, she places her menu down and reaches for my hand. “Don’t be angry, love,” she says.
My thumb swirls over her knuckles. “I’m not mad at you,” I say. “That doesn’t mean I like how you’re being treated.”
“It’s no one’s fault,” she says. “Not really.”
I’m ready to argue, but as the candlelight shimmers against Aedry’s deep blue eyes, my anger rights itself and only she remains. Her day sucked. That doesn’t mean her night has to.
Something in my features causes her to smile. She slides closer, leaning her shoulder against me. “I love you,” she whispers.
My chest tightens in that way it always does when she speaks those words. She doesn’t tell me she loves me much, but every time, it causes me more pain than pleasure. Maybe she guesses as much, which is why she limits how often she says it. I wish she didn’t have to, just like I wish I could say it in return. I feel it. I know it’s real. But if I tell her, I’ll never be able to let her go. Even though one day I may have to, just to keep her safe.
The knowledge that I may one day leave her drives a chisel through my heart. But I can’t think that way, not tonight. Tonight, she’s still mine.
I rummage through my pocket and place the velvet box in front of her. She lifts her head. “What’s this?”
“Your present.”
“I thought dinner was my present.” She laughs. “That and the tiny piece of fabric you called a negligee.”
“You called it a negligee,” I remind her. “I call it something small enough to snap off with my teeth.”
The waiter returns with our drinks. I put in an order for shrimp cocktails and crab cakes, knowing both are Aedry’s favorite. “You know me so well,” she says.
“We’ll see,” I tell her, motioning to the box.
She waits for the waiter to disappear before carefully lifting the velvet case. But when she opens the lid, all she does is stare, her eyes widening in her shock.
She glances from the box, to me, back to the box. “Salvatore . . . this is too much.”
I kiss her head. “Not for you.”
The way her face lights up, I regret not getting her that ring―the platinum one with a two carat square cut diamond in the center with another carat of diamonds surrounding it in an antique setting. She would have loved it and maybe even would have said yes.
“Thank you,” she says, kissing my cheek.
“It’s just a bracelet,” I tell her.
“I mean for being so good to me,” she whispers.
Her comment gives me the barest pause. Damn, I love her so much, it sometimes hurts. But tonight, that pain is even more severe.
“Will you help me put it on?” she asks, sparing me from having to say something more.
She carefully lifts the bracelet and places it in my hand like she’s afraid to break it. I clasp it around her wrist, lifting her hand to kiss it. “You like it?”
“It’s stunning,” she answers, mesmerized by how the row of diamonds and sapphires sparkle in the candlelight.
Dinner is good, even better than I expected, but mostly because of the company. My woman is happy, smiling, making me forget everything that’s wrong with my life until I catch sight of Vin and Donnie on our way out.
I clutch Aedry against me, trying to shield her more by instinct. Son of bitch. What is he doing on this side of town?
If we weren’t walking straight toward them, I’d edge us back to the bar and try to give them the slip. But he’s already seen me and so have the two men watching his back.
I force a smile and keep going. “Hey, Sal,” he says, grinning like an old pal. He leaves his men behind. Donnie stays glued to his side, pretending she’s not high and that this isn’t the first time in weeks that Vin’s done more than fuck her.
I see right through her and him. I don’t like it, and I don’t like the way his attention drifts toward Aedry.
I shake his hand. “Hey,” I say. “Just on my way out.”
“Who’s this?” he asks, tilting his chin toward Aedry.
“Sal’s woman,” Donnie chimes in.
Donnie answers before I can respond with something vague that won’t fucking give away Aedry is more than a one-night stand. My anger flares, feeling betrayed. If Donnie wasn’t high, she’d know better than to tell Vin who Aedry is to me.
If that’s not bad enough, she rushes forward, slinging her arm around Aedry and kissing her cheek. “Hi, sweetie,” she says, making it clear they’ve spent time together. “I’ve missed you!”
“Hi, Donnie,” she answers, carefully returning her hug.
When she’d showed at Aedry’s, she’d hit rock bottom. I hated how she made Aedry feel, but as messed up as Donnie was, I couldn’t just let her walk out. I needed to make sure she wasn’t going to do something to hurt herself before I returned to Aedry.
The day after, me and Donnie had a long talk. I told her to keep her distance from Aedry and that if she needed a friend, to come to me and leave her out of it. She agreed, only because she didn’t want it to hurt my relationship with Aedry. But the way she’s clinging to Aedry now is stirring things up in a way I don’t need.
Vin’s shit-eating grin widens, irritating me more than it should. I’m ready to walk out, let him believe Aedry is just one of Donnie’s slut friends I’m fucking, and hoping Donnie will sober up to tell him as much. But Vin, for all he does a lot of stupid shit, picks up on more than I want him to.
“Your woman?” he says, his focus on Aedry as she returns to my side. “I didn’t know you had a woman.”
Aedry straightens. I need to get her out of here, but I’m too slow.
“I’m Vincent,” he says, offering his hand. My back stiffens as he turns her hand beneath his grasp and kisses it. “Sal’s boss.”
Aedry blinks back at him. “Oh, hi,” she says, her smile wide, yet unsure. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally?” he asks. He keeps his grin, but a lot of words go unsaid behind those teeth. “How long have you been together?”
“Not long,” I say, before either woman can answer.
Based on my gruff tone, Donnie’s common sense pokes through her haze and she realizes her mistake. Too bad it’s too little, too late. She quiets, but so does Aedry. In trying to protect her, I disrespected her, which is the last thing I want.
“This is Adrianna,” I say.
“Lovely,” he says. “So, you have yourself a woman.”
The change in who I was during dinner to who I am now doesn’t go unnoticed. Aedry looks to me, appearing confused. I want to take her hand, assure her she’s safe, and avoid embarrassing her any more than I already have. But Vin already knows there’s something different about Aedry. I don’t need him to realize how much or that I’d bleed for her without thinking twice.
I clamp my mouth shut as Donnie leans in to say something to him.
Vin cuts her off. “You like Italian food, Adrianna?” He smirks. “Or should I call you Aedry?”
“Italian is my favorite,” she answers, smiling politely. “And please, call me Aedry.”
He points at her. “Then you need to come to our house for dinner. My woman makes the best gravy in Jersey.”
She clasps my hand, looking hopeful. “We’d love to,” she says. “That’s so nice of you to invite us.”
Vin’s full attention bounces to me. “Then we’ll see you tomorrow at eight,” he says, making it clear he’s not asking.
“Vin, our table is ready,” Donnie mumbles.
He smiles at Aedry, making like he’s this Boy Scout, instead of the guy who was wiping blood off his face just two days ago. “All right. We’ll see you then.”
I watch him and Donnie step toward the dining area, followed closely by his men. I put my arm around Aedry and lead her away, pretending like Jersey’s big
gest crime boss didn’t just invite us to dinner at his place.
Vin turns around, his stare meeting mine briefly before it skips to Aedry.
It’s then I know I can no longer keep my two worlds from colliding. And that I can no longer shield the woman I love from their darkness.
Chapter Twenty
Aedry
Salvatore jogs toward me when he sees me edging out of my building trying to hang on to my food, purse, and the gift bag. “Hi, love,” I say.
I steal a kiss as he reaches for my tray of baked rolls and pie. Tonight, he’s wearing a new black suit and gray dress shirt. His focus travels down my figure, taking in the sleeveless pink dress he likes. My kiss, or perhaps my dress, draws that sexy half grin I can’t get enough of.
Until he frowns. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I would have helped you carry this stuff out.”
“You’re so cute when you brood,” I tell him, easing his frown and causing his grin to return.
I slip my arm through the crook of his elbow and carefully walk down the small set of stairs. I’m wearing the silver shoes the boys bought me for my birthday, and have long since determined fashion can be deadly. I keep my eyes on my feet until we reach the walkway. “We’re already running late,” I remind him. “With Donnie going out of her way to make dinner, I didn’t want to waste any time.” I snuggle closer to him. “When you texted me that you were almost here, I came down to save us some time.”
Sal has been working out in the gym a lot lately. Even when he’s relaxed, his muscles bulge. Yet, it’s the added tension my words cause that has me looking up. “What’s wrong?”
He places the pie over the rolls long enough to open the driver’s side door and pop the trunk. “Donnie isn’t making dinner,” he says.
Instead of slipping into the front, I follow him to the back, watching him as he sets the food down and secures it with a net.
“Is she ordering food?” I ask, aware I’m not getting the whole picture.
He slams the door closed. “No,” he answers, placing his hand on my lower back and leading me to the front. I pause before slipping inside and securing my seatbelt, eyeing Sal as he walks around the front of his SUV.
He slides in, keeping his focus away from mine.
“Is she sick?” I press.
“No.” He rubs his jaw, appearing irritated as he pulls onto the main road. I wait for an explanation, but instead he motions to my gift bag on the floor. “What is that?”
“A house warming gift for Donnie and Vincent. I hadn’t realized they’d moved in.” It’s how I answer, because it’s what I believed. But now I know it’s not true. I glance at the bright orange bag with the glittery white tissue paper poking through, feeling foolish.
“Salvatore, please tell me what’s going on.”
He takes his time answering, as if attempting to spare me from some awful truth I don’t need to hear. “We’re not having dinner with Vincent and Donnie,” he says. “We’re having dinner with Vin and his wife.”
“What?” I squeak, certain I misheard.
He pulls onto the highway, his expression rigid. “Donnie is Vin’s gumad, his mistress. Rita is his wife.” His eyes slant my way. “I take it Donnie never bothered to tell you.”
“No,” I say, my voice tightening. “She―” I cut myself off, feeling my skin prickle with heat.
I have to admit, it takes me a long while to answer. “She always referred to him as the love of her life, and spoke of their relationship as if they’ve been together for a long time. When she said he wouldn’t commit to her, I didn’t realize it was because he was already committed.” My attention wanders around the cabin, as if searching for something that would have clued me in long before this. “Why would she date a married man?”
“Because of what he gives her,” he replies, although by now I figured it out.
“It’s not that I know these things don’t happen,” I say, trying to clarify what I’m feeling and work through how blind I’ve been. “But Donnie can have anyone. Why would she settle for being second best when she’s capable of so much more?”
He shifts in his seat. “For Donnie, being second best to Vin is better than being nothing at all. She’s been with him a long time, even longer than Vin’s been with Rita.”
“Donnie came first,” I say.
“Yeah. She did.” He sighs. “The thing you have understand about Donnie is she always wanted to be a kept woman. When she saw Vin, she saw her chance. She expected him to marry her, but then Rita came along. Vin married her, instead.”
“But he didn’t let Donnie go.”
“No,” he answers. “And Donnie didn’t want to walk away.”
I start to speak, but my thoughts return to the previous night. When Vincent said “our house” and “my woman,” I thought he was referring to Donnie. It’s no wonder she didn’t text me back when I asked her what to bring or why Sal was so tense during our encounter. That bastard invited us to his home, to his wife, in front of his mistress!
“I don’t want to go,” I tell Salvatore. “I don’t want to be a part of these lies.”
He curses under his breath and rubs at his jaw. “We have to. Otherwise Vin will take it as a sign of disrespect. According to him, Rita’s been cooking the gravy all day and is excited to meet you.”
“I don’t like this,” I insist.
“I don’t, either. But even if it’s just this one time, we have to be there.”
“Oh, my God,” I say, pushing the hair out of my face. “Does Rita know about Donnie?”
“It’s not our business, Aedry.”
It’s not, but . . . “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you were trying to be nice to Vin, because he was my boss. It was your birthday. When we got back to your place, I wanted to make it and keep it about you―not this shit he pulls all the fucking time.”
I never understood why Sal was so tight-lipped about who he works for. But now that I realize what kind of sleaze his employer is, I can’t blame him.
“I’m going to tell you something about Vin,” he says. “Something I don’t usually talk about.”
I expect him to tell me something worse, or that Donnie is one of many women he keeps around. But what he says makes me realize how complex his relationship with Vin really is.
“I wasn’t winning the case against the state for guardianship over my brothers,” he says. “I didn’t have the age, degree, or occupation to be considered an appropriate guardian. It didn’t matter I was the only family willing to step up. Or how much I love them. The court saw what they wanted to see, and it sure wasn’t anything that worked in my favor.”
The way he speaks reflects his frustration and likely the bitterness he experienced.
“Vin and me, we’d been friends for a long time. I’d helped him out when we were kids. He remembered and helped me when it mattered most.” He glances at me. “He paid for that big shot attorney and he gave me a job. If it wasn’t for him, Apollo and Gianno would have stayed in the system and been split apart.”
And likely molested and abused, he doesn’t mention. But he doesn’t have to. I’m familiar with the child welfare system, and I recognize how badly it’s broken.
“I had no one to turn to. All I had was Vin and he came through.” He shrugs. “I owe him, Aedry. I wish I didn’t, but I can’t forget what he did.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, not only for what he’s feeling now, but also for everything he went through.
He seems to realize, lifting my hand when I place it on his lap and squeezing it gently. I don’t like Vincent and I’m not certain Salvatore does either. But we both know what could have happened if Sal hadn’t been granted custody of his brothers.
As much as I’m grateful for what Vin did for Salvatore, and Gianno and Apollo, too, I can’t excuse his treatment of Donnie or his wife.
“I still don’t like this,” I say.
“I know. I don’t, either. We’ll go. We’ll pla
y nice. And we’ll leave.”
“I don’t have to see him again?” I ask.
He looks at me then. “No. I swear to Christ, I’ll never let you near Vin again.”
We remain quiet the rest of the ride to Bergen County. It takes roughly half an hour for us to reach the gated community. I expect the security guard on watch to step out with a machine gun, or at least demand identification. But all he does is nod Sal’s way before the gates part and we’re allowed through.
The entire development is packed with opulent homes surrounded by even more gates. It’s all too much. No sense of community or home. This isn’t a place where a neighbor would knock on another’s door to borrow a cup of sugar, or where block parties would take place.
“I didn’t expect him to live like this, especially with the types of small businesses he owns.” My voice trails. “Sal, how does someone who owns the shops you described in the locations you mentioned live here?”
“Vin comes from old money,” he says. “And all those businesses add up. He has investments all over the country.”
“He does?”
“Yeah, but it’s the places here in Jersey that give him problems based on where they’re located.”
What he says makes sense. But I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to it. “This place is so over the top,” I say, when we pass another immense estate. “What kind of people live here?”
“Celebrities, people with money to throw around,” he answers.
“More businessmen like Vincent?” I ask.
He pauses before answering. “That’s right.”
He doesn’t seem affected, appearing relaxed. I can’t say I feel the same way. My parents’ house is sweet, and encompasses the certain warmth every home should have. Everything here seems sterile and cold. “Have you been here a lot?” I ask.
“A few times. For their house warming, engagement, and Christmas party. That sort of thing.”
“Christmas party?” I ask.
He rolls to a stop in front of a gate with a large white mansion perched on a hill, angling in his seat to face me. “Yeah,” he says, stroking my jaw with his finger.
