by Bethany-Kris
And maybe being like Sara wasn’t such a bad thing.
At Abriella’s right, Alessa stood quiet and still. Tears streaked down her sister’s cheeks while her hand held tight to Abriella’s. Placed atop her eight month pregnancy swell, Alessa’s other hand rested with her husband’s, their fingers intertwined.
Thankfully, Joel had managed to reign his asshole in for the day and allow his younger sister and her husband the chance to be at the funeral and burial.
At Abriella’s left, her father stood like a broken statue. Full of cracks, withered, weather-beaten, and ready to fall. Peter hadn’t said more than a few words since news of the car shooting and accident had come to the guests at the baby shower the week before. He barely moved, ate, or slept.
Abriella constantly worried about her father. Peter seemed lost without Sara.
The sound of a metal spade shovel being driven into dirt woke Abriella from her stupor. She watched the two groundskeepers as they started throwing shovelfuls of dirt into the grave. Most of the funeral had passed Abriella by without her even noticing.
On the other side of the grave, Joel gave one last glance at the grave with his usual disinterest present, and turned on his heel to leave.
He was the first person to go.
Shortly after, the other guests began to take their leave as well. Some stopped to give the sisters and their father a supportive word or hug. Abriella recognized the faces of her friends, Lily and Evelina, their husbands, and other people, but she couldn’t muster up the ability to thank them or even smile.
“You ready?”
Abriella heard Adriano’s question directed to his wife, but barely.
Alessa squeezed Abriella’s hand. “You okay?”
Faintly, Abriella nodded. “Yeah.”
Liar, her mind taunted.
She was two seconds away from shattering, from letting all her anger and distress out, or from breaking down completely. So close.
“Call me, okay?” Alessa asked softly.
“Sure,” Abriella whispered.
Once her sister was gone, Abriella was left alone with just her father and the sounds of shovels digging into dirt over and over. Quietly, over the spades slicing through the mound of earth, soft, choked sobs began to echo. Abriella glanced up to see wetness streaking down her father’s cheeks. Peter didn’t try to hide his pain, he simply let it be free. Abriella wished she could do the same.
“I miss her,” Peter said brokenly.
Abriella’s heart splintered. “I know, Dad.”
“I didn’t tell her enough. Not nearly enough.”
She didn’t have to ask what her father meant. His heartbreak and grief was so clear to see that it only added to her own pain.
Drawing in a deep breath, Abriella pushed down her own suffocating emotions and the welling tears. She leaned her head to her father’s shoulder, and wrapped her arm around his to hold tight.
“It’ll be all right, Dad,” she told him.
Peter shook his head. “No, it won’t. It really won’t.”
She knew her father was telling the truth.
As much as she knew that her own lover had been the cause of her mother’s death, she couldn’t imagine standing at his grave to bury him. Tommas was every good and bad part of Abriella’s heart—something she desperately needed and wanted, but could rarely have. The one thing she had chosen to love entirely, the man who owned her soul and her very breath.
Tommas was her shadows in the daylight, and her color in the darkness. He knew her secrets and her stories, he loved her defiance and her spirit. He let her be true to who she was, loved her fearlessly, and tried to give her what he thought she deserved in the only way he knew how.
She couldn’t do what her father had to do today.
Abriella just couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Abriella mumbled.
“Me, too, Ella. Me, too.”
A short while later, Abriella helped her father into his waiting car. Once she was sure he was settled in the back seat, she gave the enforcer waiting behind the wheel a nod to say he could take a somber Peter home. Closing the door, she stepped back from the car and waited as the black vehicle pulled away.
Heavy in her heart, Abriella looked for the car that should have been waiting to take her home as well. Joel had opted to have Darryl drive him home when he was ready, and allowed Abriella to have a separate car and driver waiting for her.
It was something else her brother managed to get right.
For once.
She quickly found the waiting car at the end of the winding road. The enforcer who must have been her driver was sitting on the passenger side of the hood with what looked to be a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he chatted on the phone, completely unaware.
Something—or rather, someone—caught Abriella’s eye on the other end of the road, far away from her waiting car. A familiar Jaguar was parked with a man leaning against the passenger door.
Tommas.
His head was bent down too low for her to see his eyes. She knew he was watching her.
Inside, every single inch of Abriella screamed out for Tommas. She clung tight to her control.
She needed to keep it for just a little while longer. Abriella wasn’t sure that when she gave up the control she had managed to keep since finding out about her mother’s death, if she would be able to come out of it unscathed.
Her heart wasn’t ready.
Abriella held tighter to the clutch in her hand. Inside rested the cell phone Tommas had given her. His text message that morning had been the same message as it was all week:
I love you.
I’m sorry, Ella.
I’m here when you’re ready.
Tommy.
Simple.
Honest.
And exactly what she needed.
The phone was running low on minutes, and it needed a new card. She hadn’t had time to pick one up when she wasn’t being followed or watched by Darryl. Hopefully, she would be able to get one soon, but until then, she planned on saving the last few minutes she had on the phone card for when she couldn’t take it anymore.
When she finally broke.
When she really needed him.
Tommas would understand.
Raising her hand slightly, Abriella waved to her lover.
Tommas tilted his head up a little, just enough for her to see the camber of his frown and the tightness in his jaw. He lifted his hand in return, and that was enough.
It was enough for her to keep it together for a little while longer.
Abriella shifted the messenger bag over her shoulder, hoping to ease the weight of the contents a bit. Walking around the hallway corner, she met up with her waiting enforcer. Like always, Darryl sat on the bench looking bored and annoyed at the same time.
“Finally,” Darryl grumbled.
“The class ran a little late,” Abriella explained.
She didn’t apologize for making the enforcer wait because she didn’t give a damn. It was his job to watch after her. It wasn’t her job to make sure everyone around her ran on Darryl’s time.
Darryl held out his hand, and without question, Abriella handed her bag over to him. She stayed quiet as the enforcer pulled out the laptop she used for taking notes and then grabbed the bag back. Joel still hadn’t given up on keeping a close eye on everything Abriella did. Her idiot brother wouldn’t give back her phone, either.
She had the one from Tommas, thankfully, but there still hadn’t been an opening for her to grab another card for it.
“We’re late, so hurry it up,” Darryl said.
Abriella tampered her flare of irritation. “Late for what?”
“Your brother has a meeting.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“Your presence was demanded.”
Abriella’s brow furrowed as she took in those words. Not requested or wanted. No, demanded.
“What kind of meeting?” she as
ked, choosing her words carefully.
“A dinner with the Rossi asshole,” Darryl informed.
Abriella swallowed hard. “Like a sit-down?”
“Could be. I wouldn’t know. You made us late and I got the phone call about it last minute.”
Darryl didn’t offer any more information before he turned on his heel and walked away. Abriella slung her bag over her shoulder and jogged to keep up with the man. What was he so goddamned edgy about?
It wasn’t like Abriella was having the best fucking day.
A week after she buried her mother, and Abriella was more restless than ever. Between checking up on her father, trying to manage to stay out of Joel’s way, and being without Tommas, she was barely keeping it together.
Going back to school to resume classes had been just one of her attempts to keep herself and emotions under control.
Abriella was failing.
She could feel it in her blood.
Dying inside.
Breaking apart slowly.
Without air.
Existing.
It wasn’t long at all before Abriella was in Darryl’s car, and they were speeding through the city toward Trentini territory.
“Which restaurant are they at?” Abriella asked.
“They’re not at a restaurant. They’re at home.”
What?
Was Tommas fucking stupid? Why would her lover think that it was okay for him to hand Joel enough faith and trust that he could be inside the Trentini mansion for a dinner?
“Who is all there?” Abriella asked, hoping she was being subtle.
“A couple of people for Tommas. Joel has a couple of men. Nothing huge. It was quietly offered by Rossi, I guess. That’s all Joel said to me. Quit fucking asking questions. Just be quiet. I have a damned headache, and your voice doesn’t help it.”
Abriella glared at the enforcer. “You’re not a great companion, either, asshole.”
“Yeah, well, you’re fucking stuck with me.”
Wonderful.
Abriella rested into the seat, watched buildings fly by, and tried her hardest to ignore the worry beginning to compound in her chest.
What had Tommas done?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“How’s the cognac?” Joel asked.
Tommas tipped the balloon glass in his companion’s direction as he said, “It’s been a while since I’ve had one of Terrance’s twenty-year bottles. It’s a shame to waste good liquor, but you know I don’t like to drink when doing business.”
“Terrance liked to save them for special occasions.”
“How many have you cracked open since his death?”
Joel smirked. “A few.”
“It’s a good drink.”
“It is.”
Tommas leaned forward in the chair, set his glass on the corner of Joel’s desk, and rested back again. “But like I said, I don’t drink and do business.”
Joel held up a hand, smiling slightly. “No offence taken, old friend.”
The nut, spice, and earthy flavors of the cognac still rested heavily on Tommas’ palate. He’d gotten a taste of the drink, and that was more than enough. Cognac was a particular favorite of his, and Joel likely knew it. Before Tommas would realize it, he might have three glasses down and be working on a damn good drunk.
That was not the way he wanted to go tonight.
Just being inside the Trentini mansion was enough to put Tommas on edge. This was his last resort. He didn’t want to be there, and he certainly didn’t want to make the choice he was going to end up making, but his options had run out.
That, and he needed his girl.
One way or the other, Tommas would have Abriella.
A beep echoed from the intercom on the desk. Joel reached over, pressed the button, and said, “Yeah?”
“Ghost is here,” replied a gravelly voice.
Joel shot Tommas with a questioning look.
“He’s the only man I invited to come inside,” Tommas said quietly. “He has no idea what I’m here to do or offer, Joel. As far as I know, he was having dinner with his wife when I asked him to come over.”
“Let him through,” Joel said into the intercom.
“Sure, boss.”
Tommas barely managed to hide his external reaction to someone handing the title of boss over to Joel Trentini without so much as a hesitation. The man was so far from a boss that it was disgusting. A good boss—an honorable one—cared about his family as a whole and not just his own selfish desires.
Joel worried about no one but himself.
It didn’t matter.
Tommas pushed his opinions aside.
He was out of options.
Last resort, he reminded himself silently.
“You know,” Joel drawled, leaning back into his office chair, “… you still haven’t told me why you’re here, Tommas.”
“I did … in a way.”
“You want to settle this peacefully. That’s what you said. It doesn’t tell me much. It certainly doesn’t tell me how you plan to do that.”
Tommas drew in a long, deep breath. He needed the fucking strength. He needed the reminder that he was still alive in this whole thing, and for that matter, so was Abriella. More than anything, he wanted to keep both him and her that way for as long as he could.
Alive.
Forever.
Even better if they were doing it together.
Guilt was a terrible monster to carry. Tommas didn’t wear his well at all. From the moment he knew that it was his plans—his call—that had put his lover’s mother into the ground, Tommas’ guilt began to climb. With every passing day that Abriella didn’t answer his messages, with every ignored call, he came closer and closer to giving up.
He was out of plans.
Joel had won.
Tommas still had one more card to play.
God forgive him, but he hoped Abriella didn’t hate him for it.
“I should begin by apologizing for your mother,” Tommas said quietly.
Joel glanced up from the cognac he was swirling inside a glass. “Don’t bother.”
“It’s only right that I do.”
“If I cared for the woman, then the apology would mean something. Since I don’t care, it means nothing. I don’t need or want it, Tommas. Don’t bother.”
Tommas wasn’t surprised.
Joel wasn’t the person Tommas wanted to apologize to, anyway. Abriella needed to hear Tommas’ apology, and if she was willing to forgive his mistakes, then maybe his choices today would be a little easier for her to swallow.
Damn.
Maybe she would even … understand.
Another beep echoed through the intercom.
Sighing, Joel hit the button again. “What now?”
“Your sister and her enforcer have just arrived, and Ghost is being let into the foyer.”
“Wonderful.” Joel turned off the intercom. “Seems like everyone that you wanted is here.”
“Seems so,” Tommas agreed.
“Let’s get started.”
“Find a spot to sit,” Joel said, waving a hand toward the long dining table. “The cook will be serving supper in a few.”
“A little heads-up about this would have been nice,” Darryl said.
Tommas ignored the enforcer as he pulled out a chair to sit in. Under his lashes, he sneaked a peek at a confused, quiet Abriella. She twisted her hands together and glanced between her brother and Tommas subtly. No one else would have noticed her quick look, but he did.
He noticed everything about her.
“I agree,” Damian said gruffly.
Tommas shot his cousin a look, silencing him. “Sit, D.”
Scowling, Damian strolled past a statue-like Abriella to grab a chair. Once his cousin was seated, Tommas felt a little bit of his anxiety begin to drift away. While he fully suspected that this dinner-slash-meeting would go off without any issues, it helped to have a backup.
Damian was a
good backup.
No matter what, the man would make sure Tommas got out of the Trentini mansion alive. Damian didn’t even need to know what he was there to do, but he would make sure his cousin was safe. That’s just how their lives worked.
As kids they looked out for each other.
As adults, that hadn’t changed.
“Abriella,” Joel snapped.
Abriella’s head popped up fast. “Yeah?”
“Are you going to stand there all goddamn day looking like an idiot, or are you going to sit down like you were told to do?”
“Sorry.”
Abriella quickly found a chair to sit it. It happened to be the one directly across from Tommas. Now, he could watch her throughout the dinner, gage her emotions and reactions to what was about to happen, and go from there.
Her being closer was better.
She’d been too far away for too long.
“Thank you,” Joel said, his tone oozing with sarcasm.
Tommas’ jaw clenched, his only show of irritation. He had all he could do not to snap at Joel, never mind beating back his annoyance. How the man could outright disrespect his sister like he did, without even a care for her feelings, was beyond Tommas’ understanding.
Abriella deserved people in her life who loved and adored her. Those who would care for her, treat her with kindness and respect.
That wasn’t Joel.
It couldn’t be anyone but Tommas.
“I have men outside,” Joel said, drawing Tommas from his thoughts.
“I’m aware.”
“How many did you bring along?”
“A couple,” Tommas admitted.
“Peaceful, right?”
“Absolutely, Joel.”
Joel nodded. “Okay then.”
Ten painfully awkward and silent minutes later, food was brought into the dining room. The cook served each person with a smile. She accepted Tommas’ thank you with a gracious pat on his shoulder. Once the woman was gone, utensils scraped to plates as napkins were flicked over laps.
“I have an offer,” Tommas said.
Joel was just beginning to cut into his steak. “Go on.”
“I want to end this. All of it.”
“I’m willing to do that for the right price,” Joel said simply.
