High Stakes (A Dark Romance)

by Vanessa Waltz

  I blink as tears bead on my eyelashes. I didn’t even think about that yet. All of it seems so far away, now. I’m still staggering from my mother’s betrayal. Tears keep falling, and I turn my head so that he can’t see.

  “You’re not alone, Adriana. You’ll always have me.”

  His hand tightens over mine until the grip is almost painful. I’m not sure he’s enough. I can’t just survive off one person.

  “How’s your mom?”

  He exhales a long breath. “Still recovering. She’ll be there, too.”

  The car grinds to a halt in front of an unassuming house in the suburbs of Long Island. Vince inclines his head. “They’re in there.”

  He looks at me with a grim expression, and I realize this might be the last time I see him.

  I launch myself towards the driver’s seat. My arms wrap around his neck as he lets out a grunt. I screw up my face against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  I cringe as he strokes the side of my face. I don’t deserve his kindness. “I almost got you killed.”

  “That bastard was going to come after me one way or another. At least you tipped me off. My clever little thief.”

  I’m such an asshole. All those times he pleaded with me to stay put, and I didn’t listen to him. He’s always been there for me when it counted. He’s always cared for me. Why did it take me so long to see it?

  He tips my head back and kisses me. It may be for the last time, so I pull his face closer to mine when his burning lips touch mine. My hands sweep around his shoulders and bury themselves in his fine hair. Then I reach down, touching his chest, his abs, the firm muscles hardening as my palm sweeps over them. His mouth crashes against mine before he holds me back, his mouth parted and his face flushed.

  “This isn’t goodbye.”

  “Please don’t take any stupid risks. You’re all I have now.”

  The desperation in my voice makes me feel pathetic. I suck in my breath as he kisses the tears from my face.

  “Go inside.”

  Fresh tears slide down my face. “Bye.” I open the door and run towards the door, knocking furiously as Vince watches me across the street.

  A red-eyed Carmela opens the door. She doesn’t blink as she looks at my tear-stained face. She stands back and opens the door. I turn around and wave at Vince, and he drives off. Something goes through me as I watch him go. A silent howl.

  “Come on.”

  My attention tears back to the house. It’s a stale, musty place with moth-eaten furniture and chipping paint. I hear low voices in the kitchen as Carmela closes the door. To my surprise, she pulls me into a fierce hug.

  “Adriana, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  Her voice sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. Who can blame her, really?

  “I’m not really sure I’m okay. How’s Jack?”

  Not that I care.

  She pulls back, blinking rapidly. “He’s going to be fine. He needs to spend a couple weeks under observation.”

  “Thank God.”

  She sniffs and dabs at her eyes with a piece of tissue. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Gloria will be happy to see you.”

  Who?

  I walk two steps inside the kitchen before I hear a scream. I tense all over, thinking of gunfire and bodies—

  “Adriana! Oh my God!” Mrs. Cesare crashes into me and seizes my middle, hugging me so hard that I think I might pass out. “How’s my son? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. He just brought me here.”

  A scowl forms over her face. “And he didn’t even come in to say hi?”

  “Mrs. Cesare, it’s dangerous for him to be out with everything happening.”

  Her fingers dig into my skin. “Those mezzo fanooks. I can’t sleep at night. My sister’s kids are dead.”

  There are four other women sitting around the kitchen table, and I recognize Nicky’s wife as she looks at me from the table with a pity filled gaze.

  “We’ll have another engagement party for you.”

  “We’ll host it at my house,” Mrs. Cesare says as she unhooks her arms from around my middle.

  Engagement parties are the last things on my mind. “Thanks, but I don’t think I really want one anymore.”

  Her eyes slowly fill with tears, and then she excuses herself, running towards the bathroom. I watch her leave in alarm.

  “What did I say?”

  Stefani waves her hand. “Never you mind. She’s been crying all day off and on. I don’t blame you for wanting out.”

  Is that what she thought I meant? The wives look at me with varying degrees of pity and disappointment. “I didn’t mean that, it’s just I don’t really feel like celebrating what with everything that happened. There are more important things.”

  “Adriana, you only get married once. Who is your maid of honor?”

  I swallow hard. Truthfully, I haven’t thought of it. Do I even want to get married? “Maria, probably. But I don’t know if she’ll even want to after everything.”

  “Vince is a great man. We’ve never seen him be so taken with anyone.” Another woman speaks up, her black hair pinned in a beehive. Like Carmela, she looks like she’s been through hell. There’s a sad, resigned look on her face. “Though, you’ll have to prepare yourself for reality.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After you’re married, Vince will probably get a comare.”

  What’s that?

  She gives me a pitying look. “A mistress.”

  “What?” I laugh as they all look at me with sympathetic faces. “Vince wouldn’t do that. He would never hurt me. He loves me.”

  They smile at me as if I’m a naive little girl.

  Is it true? Am I resigned to a life of this—hiding while wondering if the man I love is going to make it in one piece, making sure his dinner is made while he fucks mistresses on the side? A surge of emotions fill my chest.

  I don’t want that.

  Unable to remain in their presence any longer, I leave the room and retreat upstairs where I hear Mrs. Cesare stifled sobs. I find a room to myself and lock the door. Sitting on the dusty floor, I hug my knees and think.

  What a depressing week.

  Nothing can change, really. I’m locked into this marriage. I suppose I was the moment I took his money. If I left, I’d have nothing. Nobody.

  So there’s really no choice, anyway.

  * * *

  Two days pass without so much of a text from Vincent. I’m going crazy in this house, holed up with these women who act like nothing’s wrong. I spend a lot of time in this room, buried under musty sheets like I’m ten years old again.

  I trudge downstairs at noon. Everyone is sitting in the living room. The TV blares with an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and I listen to their comments about the show with wide-eyed wonder.

  How the fuck can they watch that insipid show with all this shit going on?

  Mrs. Cesare sits alone at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette.

  “Hi.”

  She gives me a tight smile, tapping her finger on the table restlessly.

  I’m like that, too. Restless. I take the stack of dry dishes and put them away, her eyes following me as I work. When everything’s put away, I turn around and sit at the table.

  “I’m worried about Vincent,” I mutter finally.

  “Me too.” Her eyes wrinkle with the pain of not knowing whether her son is okay. “But he’s a capable man, not like his father.” She gives me a watery gaze. “I just hope that, when you have kids, you’ll keep them out of this life. I never wanted it for him.”

  My face burns as she mentions future children with Vince. God, I don’t even know if I want kids.

  “I will.”

  My pocket buzzes. She stares at it as I pull it out excitedly. I hope to God it’s not another notification for a stupid app, but it’s a text message.

  It’s over. Coming to pick you and Ma up.
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br />   “He’s coming!”

  “What?”

  “He said it’s over. He’s on his way.”

  Mrs. Cesare lets out a small shriek before she envelops me in a hug. Her breaths hitch with little gasps as her surprising strong grip squeezes my lungs.

  In the living room, voices lift with excitement as their husbands call them with the same good news. Mrs. Cesare unhooks herself from me as the doorbell rings almost ten minutes later.

  “Vinny!”

  It’s like an electric shock to my heart. She runs to the door to let him in. He walks inside, wearing a leather jacket and jeans.

  “Ma, I’m okay.”

  His long arms wrap around her as he gives her a kiss on her head.

  It’s strange, the feeling I get when he looks up and finds me. Our eyes lock and I feel like a cliché. In a few swift seconds, he crosses over and pulls me into a rib-crushing hug. My body trembles as if I’m going through a seizure. He buries his fingers in my hair and gives me a kiss on the top of my head.

  Every day I buried my feelings for him. So that if he died, it would be easier.

  Vince pulls back, but I’m still buried in his chest. God, I never want to let go.

  “You okay, hon?”

  His thumb sweeps over my chin.

  “I—we were all so worried.”

  A smile twitches on his face. “I’m all right, little thief. Let’s go home.”

  When we get in the car, I’m counting down the minutes till we’re alone. Vince drops off his mom at her apartment, and the moment he slides back inside I give him a steely look.

  “So what happened?”

  The smile on his face falters. “Ade, you don’t want to know, and I can’t tell you anyway. This should be the end of it.”

  The gunfire from days ago at my engagement party seems to echo in the car.

  “How was it? Being in that house?”

  “Don’t get me started,” I mumble. “As soon as I walked in, the others told me how I should expect you to cheat on me with a mistress once we get married.”

  Another chill creeps up my spine. Once we get married. I guess I’m committing to this, aren’t I? I watch his face carefully.

  It twists. “What the fuck?” He looks at me. “You don’t believe them, do you?”

  I look down deliberately at my lap. My shoulders lift in a shrug.

  “Adriana, listen. They’re just bitter. It’s true that I was a bit of a playboy before I met you, but I’m with you now. I’m happy.”

  He gives me a smile that makes me dissolve into a puddle. Almost immediately, I deflate. Sure, he says that now.

  When he parks the car, I’m ready to bury myself under the sheets.

  “We’re going out, so get ready when you go upstairs.”

  “What? Where?”

  “You’ll see,” he says when he opens my door.

  I watch his wide grin as we ride the elevator up. I hang on his shoulder and kiss under his ear, my lips teasing him. “Tell me.”

  “No. Get your ass inside and get ready.”

  He smacks me right in the middle of the hallway and gives me a boyish smile.

  “Dammit, Vince. Anyone can see us!”

  A rich sound rumbles his throat. “Are you trying to tell me what I can and can’t do to you?”

  I wouldn’t put it past Vince to fuck me in the hallway. Blood drains from my face, but he only laughs and pushes me inside. Damn, he’s in a good mood.

  “Get dressed.”

  “I need to take a shower.”

  “Then I’ll watch.”

  I smile, but he follows me into the bathroom and stands with his arms crossed. Is he serious?

  It’s almost like the first time I went to his apartment. A tingling sensation wraps around my skin as I shed my clothes. It comes from his gaze. I brush past him, smiling to myself as I set my ring on the counter. I lean inside the shower to turn it on and step inside immediately, closing the glass door.

  Ten seconds pass before the glass door opens, admitting a naked Vince who joins me under the spray. His biceps keep me pinned against him as he lowers his face to mine. His face hangs over me, dripping with water.

  “I don’t want you to think about what they said.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  He moves me against the glass wall. Although it’s cold against my back, Vincent’s body heat surrounds me. That delicious sense of anticipation floods my nerves like whiskey. His hands move across my shoulder blades down my arms, to the curve of my breasts. Electricity sparks over my skin as he gives them a squeeze. His lips capture my moan and then his hand slips down, moving my thighs apart as the water sprays down, washing away all lubricant. Hard fingers push inside me and his tongue slips in my mouth.

  He knows my body so well, knows exactly where I like to be touched, and yet he is a mystery to me in so many ways.

  Within seconds, I’m moaning loud enough for the whole bathroom to echo. He keeps at it slowly, playing with his tongue as his fingers probe in and out.

  Fuck.

  “Vince, please.”

  Vince regards me under a mop of soaking wet hair. He grins. “Please what?”

  You know what.

  A flash of irritation makes me twist my mouth. The fingers sink in deep enough to turn my scowl into a moan. “Please fuck me.”

  “Why should I give you what you want? You undermine me at every turn.”

  I know he’s just playing with me, but I’m desperate to argue. “I stayed at the safe house. I didn’t go out.”

  The fingers inside me twist. Oh, God.

  “That’s true,” he admits. “Once you’re my wife—”

  My face pales at the word.

  “I won’t tolerate this disobedient shit anymore.”

  I don’t even care about what he’s saying. There are three fingers inside me, and his hand still twists and pulls. An obscene wet sound makes me gasp.

  “Vince, please—”

  “Not until I hear you say it.” His eyes glitter with that cruel menace I see now and again.

  “I belong to you. I’m yours. Everything, Vince—”

  He scoops me up in his arms and lifts me. His cock fumbles at my lips before he shoves forward with ruthless lust on his face. The water makes for a rough entrance. He moves up my raw walls, pounding me as he grunts in my ear. The pleasure and pain combine together, so much so that I confuse which is which.

  “You’re mine, too.”

  He utters a little laugh in my ear. “Yes, I am,” he whispers in my ear. His hips dig into me and I wince. “Always, baby.”

  He punctuates the end of his sentence with a ruthless thrust of his hips. His mouth is busy on my neck, but I hear his shuddering gasps. It’s all too much, his naked body writhing against mine, the heat of the water and his mouth, the hard length pulsing inside me.

  He grunts in pain as I clench my fingers in his hair. My core contracts and my body convulses as the dam breaks, Vince’s hips hammering it home. Electricity shoots from my fingertips, dancing all over my skin. He pulls out and utters a groan as he grips himself and comes on my stomach.

  I slide down his body as he lowers me carefully to my feet. I lean into his arms. Warmth fills my chest when he kisses my head.

  “Why would I want anyone else when you give me everything I need?”

  I smile sheepishly under his intense gaze and turn around to face the spray. We wash each other laboriously. He looks deliriously happy to be with me, the darkness purged from his mood.

  “Where are we going?” I ask him when we’re finally out of the shower.

  “I’m not telling.”

  I watch in mild fascination as Vince dries his hair and gets ready. It takes him a lot sooner to be done with everything, of course. He’s dressed in a slim, black suit, looking just as delectable as the day I met him. His hands wrap around my stomach as I add the finishing touches to my makeup. I look at us in the mirror and can’t believe my reflection.

 
I barely recognize myself.

  “Come on. The city waits.”

  Vince takes my hand and leads me out of the apartment, into the garage to his black BMW. I’ve given up asking him what the surprise is. Is it another dinner? Another mob gathering? What?

  Once we’re inside, he takes the steering wheel in his hands but doesn’t turn on the ignition. “I’m sorry.”

  Bewildered, I look around at him. He’s still staring into the concrete wall of the garage. “What?”

  “I know I’ve made you suffer. Your relationship with your mom is over because of me and I know that sometimes I scare you.”

  My jaw drops. He blames himself over the mess with my mother? “Vince, I feel a lot better with her out of my life.”

  It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, but it’s true.

  “Don’t feel bad about that. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “But I do scare you.”

  “Yes, sometimes.”

  “I don’t want to.” He gives me another one of his lost looks, like a scared little boy seeking approval. “I’ll work on it, but I can’t change who I am.”

  “I know.” I reach over and touch the back of his head. “I don’t want you to change. I love you the way you are. You’ve always been there for me. Always stuck by me.”

  I need him.

  “I can deal with it, Vince.”

  He smiles, finally getting that bit of approval that he needed.

  The car blares with Jazz music as he takes me downtown, all the way into Lower Manhattan, past the 9/11 Memorial. I don’t get it.

  “What’s in this part of town?”

  “You’ll see. Be patient.”

  God, what the hell is it?

  He parks the car and I get out before he can walk around to the other side. Grinning mysteriously, he takes me outside where the sky is a deep orange. We’re overlooking the East River. I walk along his side as he takes me into a small building. A dark blue helicopter sits on a square of concrete.

  Excitement sizzles through my veins as he approaches the landing pad, where a man in flight gear waits. “Mr. Cesare, this way please.”

  We’re going on a helicopter ride?

  “Oh my God, Vince!”

  “We’re going to take a little ride over the city,” he says, looking pleased that I’m so excited. He leads me to the chopper. “After you.”