by Olivia Deici
Diego chuckled. I glared.
“I don't fucking need to defend myself and I don't need my brothers to defend me either. I pull more than my goddamned share of weight in this family, and even if she were just a fucking piece of ass I was tapping, I’d have a right to tap it. But she's more than that to me.”
“What do you even know about Izabella Laurenti, Romano?”
My eyes met my father’s. “I know all I need to know about her. She's a good woman, Pop. Don't go down this road with me.” I pointed at him with the hand holding my glass. “I deserve better than that, especially from you.” I brought the tumbler to my mouth.
Pop was annoyed at my pointing out the shit I did for him. Tough shit. He caught my attention when he reached in his locked drawer and took out an envelope. He opened it and took out the papers.
“Really, Romano. How well do you know this woman?”
“You investigated her?”
“Yes, I did. I needed to know if someone was trying to con one of my sons for their own ends.”
“What the fuck, Pop! What? A woman can't be with me without wanting something? What do you think I am? An ugly motherfucking bastard who would only attract gold-diggers?”
My brothers snickered.
Pop pointed a finger at me. “You're a Zambrano. With that comes wealth, power, and connections.”
“Oh. You're right. And here I thought she was just with me for my personality and looks. My bad.”
When my brothers continued to laugh, Pop looked at them. “Quiet!” He looked at me.
“So how well do you know this Dr. Izabella Laurenti?”
“Enough to know that I fucking love her. That she's my other half.” I went for the jugular. “That she's the only person in my life who hasn't saddled me with superhuman goals, tasks, and favors, but instead just wants me for, get this, my companionship and love.”
Pop closed his eyes and my brothers quieted. They knew it was true. I was the only fucking one in that room who solved problems and didn't cause any.
“Answer my question. How well do you know her?”
“Well enough to know I love her. Well enough to trust her.”
He flipped through pages.
“Really. Well, according to my information, Izabella Laurenti didn't exist before her eighteenth birthday.”
Chapter 32
Izzy
It was an unusual Saturday morning for me. Roman said the meeting he had the day before lasted a lot longer than anticipated, and that he wouldn't sleep over Friday night.
It was the roughest night of sleep for me in a long time. God, I missed him. I missed the kisses he'd randomly give me while sleeping. I missed his strong arms wrapped around me and his warmth. I missed his breath on my neck when he hugged me from behind while we slept.
I was antsy. Truthfully, I was also a little down. It's hard to be without someone when you've gotten used to being with them every day. I couldn't wait to see him this morning. He said he'd come by first thing. I expected him any moment, since I had given him a key two months back.
I heard the doorbell and wondered who that was at ten in the morning. The person must not be a threat since Ralph let the person pass. Roman had installed a high-tech alarm, so I checked the monitor. It was Detective Martinez. He'd offered to stop by with updates knowing my crazy long hours, rather than me having to make time to visit the police department. I jogged down and opened the door, inviting the detective up to my apartment. I told him to have a seat while I got him a drink.
“Find anything?”
He shook his head. “Fingerprinted the notes just in case. None were on the notes except yours.”
I placed the beverage in front of him and sat down across from him at the kitchenette table.
“Nothing helpful, then.”
“Actually,” he said placing the glass down. “The lack of evidence can tell you a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dr. Laurenti-”
“Izabella, please.” I smiled.
He returned my smile. “Izabella. Why would anyone take such measures to hide fingerprints if their intentions were just to flatter you because he or she was enamored by you? And a note was handwritten. So this individual doesn’t want his prints on the card, but doesn’t care if he’s identified by his handwriting. What I surmise, is that he’s in our system, and you must know him, at least by his handwriting.”
That thought sent shivers through me. Just as Detective Martinez was giving me an envelope, Roman bounds up the stairs. Detective Martinez stood up and shock registered on both of their faces.
“Hey, Rome. Surprised to find you here.”
Roman’s look was suspicious and his gaze fell on mine. I was confused wondering what was going through his head. He set his briefcase down.
“ ‘Sup, Al. Ditto. Long time no see, man.”
They exchanged an embrace and hard back slaps.
“You know each other?”
“We grew up together,” Detective Martinez explained.
“What's going on?” Roman asked.
Detective Martinez looked between us.
“You two a thing?”
Roman nodded. I was getting a sinking feeling. I just should've told him about the notes. He's going to be pissed.
“Good. I'm glad she has extra protection. Although I should've known Izabella was involved with a Zambrano by the muscle downstairs.”
Roman laughed. “Yea. Well, you know we're generally overachievers and over-do-ers, and we learn from history.”
That sobered the detective. Roman must be speaking about his sister-in-law’s murder.
“One more thing, Izabella.” Detective Martinez turned to me. “I was going to give this you when Rome came in. This was taped outside your door.”
My heart seized.
“This is how they come?” He asked.
I nodded.
“How what comes?” Roman's face was hard.
Detective Martinez looked back and forth between us.
“I don't want to intervene here. I can see that some things are unclear.”
Roman's eyes never left mine. “Muddy is more appropriate.”
I took the envelope and read the note. My legs became weak and I collapsed in the chair.
“Izzy…”
Roman stood next to me and I buried my head in his abdomen.
“You got another note?”
I moved my head back to look up at him as he reached for the note.
“How do you know about the notes?”
Roman read the note in perfect Italian.
“Benché la volpe corra, i pallottoli hanno le ale.”
“Translate that for me.” Detective Martinez walked over to Rome.
“Though the fox runs, the bullets have wings.”
As Roman translated it, I stood motionless, not even having realized I'd stood up.
The detective looked at Roman. “We’re going to have to exclude your prints now. This is getting serious. Any other letters?”
My eyes flew to Roman’s as I heard him growl. He opened his briefcase and took out a note. The detective looked up for a translation.
“It means even in paradise, it is not good to be alone.” Roman said, obviously having committed the note to memory.
My legs collapsed and Roman caught me.
“Izzy. Were there other letters?”
I nodded.
Detective Martinez took copies out of his folder. Five total. All in Italian. Roman read them.
And it wasn't simple Italian that a non-native speaker could write. The caliber of these notes meant it was someone very comfortable with the language.
I was freaked out.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Roman’s gaze narrowed on me. “Same applies to you.”
“It's my life, Roman. My safety. And I didn't want to trouble you.”
Detective Martinez cleared his throat. We stood staring at each other when he spoke. �
�Do you have copies of this? I want the originals.” He pointed to the newest one he’d brought it and Roman’s. “Could you make copies so that I can take the originals?”
I nodded and walked to my home printer to do it for him. I heard their voices talking while I was in the other room. When I returned, they quieted.
“If you two have any theories, tell me. I won't be kept in the dark.”
“I told him about the open doors that night a few months ago. I told him about the added security measures taken. And I told him about Parada.”
“Could this be about your building? Rumor has it that it's highly coveted. They might be wanting to scare you away.”
This is going to sound bad but I almost wish that was the case, rather than the alternative I feared.
“I don't know. Maybe.”
I was unable to meet Roman’s eyes. Detective Martinez said he'd be looking more into this and left. Once Roman closed the door, he came back upstairs and watched me.
“We obviously have the same inclination to not tell one another about the very same incidents.”
“You could say that,” he replied. His eyes reflected something in them that I couldn't name.
“You realize you can trust me, Izzy.”
“It wasn't about that, Roman. I didn't want to be yet another person who depended on you for something. You have enough of that. Even before we met, I had already turned in the one note I had to Detective Martinez.”
“You need to tell me everything, Izzy, otherwise how can I protect you?”
I bristled. “Excuse me. Didn't you do the exact same thing with me?”
“I'm an open book, Izzy. You basically know everything about me except for family business.”
“Family business. Nice way of saying mafia.”
Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Izzy. It's for your own safety. We don't involve women in the family business. Anything else you want to know about me, ask away. It’s more than I can say for you.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you don't tell me shit about yourself.”
“You know all you need to know. My past is my past, and all that matters is who I am now.”
His eyes widened measurably and he groaned.
“Not when it affects you now. The past becomes very real when it’s in the present.”
I could feel the anger rise up in me.
“It's my life.” I jabbed a finger to my chest. “I've worked fucking hard to be where I'm at. And I don't want to revisit who I was.”
“I'm not taking your accomplishments away. But we've been together for nearly half a year, and what I know about you wouldn’t fill up a page in a pocket notebook.”
“God, Roman. We've been together barely a blink of an eye, and you want to know everything about me in like a second. How long were your past relationships? A week?”
I could see that hit a nerve.
“Yea, really mature Izzy. Deflect your shit by focusing on mine. You're afraid.”
“Afraid?”
My raised voice caused Dezi to lift his head.
“Yes. Afraid. I’m not Elias, Izzy. I’m not going to run. You can trust me.”
“I've told you what I can, Roman. The fact is, you should've told me about the letter and not kept it a secret. It concerns me!”
He grunted. “Secrets? You don't want to go there, Izzy.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your past.”
I groaned in frustration.
“I know all about what Elias did and said to hurt you. I know about the rape, too.”
I closed my eyes. Tears were welling up and I wanted to vomit.
“I don't want to talk about this.”
My voice was a bare whisper.
“I would never force you to.”
His was the same.
“My past is none of your business. It's personal and I'm not ready to talk about it. How did you find out about my rape?”
“One night I was giving you a massage in bed and while you drifted to sleep, I asked you about your sexual inexperience. You answered. I kept asking you questions, and you told me that you were raped. Nothing else.”
I could barely breathe. The room was beginning to spin.
“Don't use this to excuse your behavior in keeping information from me that affects my life.”
“Keeping information?”
He went to his briefcase and took out an envelope.
“You have some nerve telling me not to keep secrets about you when you've been keeping a large one yourself.”
I was taken aback. What was he taking about?
“When I saw this, I didn't give a fuck. I love you, Izabella Laurenti. But the problem is, Izabella Laurenti didn't exist before her eighteenth birthday.”
Chapter 33
Roman
I'd always heard people say they saw someone go white, that the blood had drained from his or her face. I always believed it was a figure of speech, but as I stared at Izzy, I realized it is very much real.
Izzy was white, sickly white. Her hands were shaking and her eyes held such fear, it wounded me. I walked over to her to comfort her, but she held her hands up to stop me. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists.
The urge to hold her was eating at me.
“You had me investigated?”
Her voice was so soft and pained, I had to strain to hear it. She wouldn't look at me, either.
“No.”
She finally looked from the papers to me. “Funny how that looks like a background check.”
“I didn't do it. It was my father.”
She slowly nodded her head and pursed her lips. “Did you ask him to?”
“Fuck no, I didn't. I was patiently waiting for you to tell me about yourself, about your past, of your own volition. And after today, I'm wondering whether that day would've ever come.”
She sat down at the kitchen table and rested her head in her hands as if she was defeated.
And I was fucking confused. She acted like her world was ending.
My goddamned phone wouldn't stop. I reached into my pocket with the intent of stepping on the annoying little shit, when Izzy spoke.
“Just take the damn phone call.”
I gripped my phone and marched my ass to her room.
“What!”
Marco was taken aback by my bark.
“Chill, bro. What's going on?”
“Marco, it’s not a fucking good time. What do you need?”
“Jesus. You really do feel like we always need something from you, Rome.”
“I'm going to hang up in five seconds if you don't tell me what the fuck you called me for.”
“Fuck, Rome. Relax. Tony. He's talking to a Fiore enforcer.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and threw my head back. I growled my next words.
“You fucking tell him to stop this bullshit. We went over this already, Marco.”
Then the build-up from yesterday in Pop’s office and this morning here at Izzy’s got to me.
I bellowed.
“Tell Tony I don't give a FUCK who he thinks it's alright to talk to for reconnaissance.” I spit out the last word. “Even if I agreed that was a good idea, I wouldn't allow Tony to do it. I no longer trust him.”
“If he got information on the Fiores, that wouldn't be too bad, Bro.”
“Take a deep breath, Marco. You smell that?”
“What?”
“Do you fucking smell that? It smells like SHIT Marco. If it smells like shit, it must be shit! I don't give a FUCK if he's dándole muela to the Zaitsevs, Semenovs, or Fiores for whatever stupid ass reason he gives. He is not to talk to them at all or I'm going to fucking break his knees and cut his tongue out. Wake the fuck up!”
I hung up the phone. I was barely able to tamp down the urge to throw it across the room.
When I walked out, Izzy was looking over the background check and other papers Pop had on
her. She was so white, she looked like she'd been exsanguinated. I was worried about her.
“Are you and the Fiores rivals?”
Fucking odd question, but then I remembered Marcelo.
“Why are you interested in the Fiores? I met Marcelo and he doesn't look the type, but hell, who really does- was he the one who raped you?”
Her head snapped to me. She looked on the verge of a panic attack. Her breathing was short and she had a bead of sweat on her forehead.
“That's it, isn't it? It's him. I'll fucking kill him if it was him. You mentioned his name once and I don't even think you noticed. If he did something to you, I'll break him.”
“Stop.”
I walked over to her. “Did he fucking rape you? Is that why you always guard yourself at the mention of their fucking name? Yea, I noticed a few times you bracing yourself every time you hear the name Fiore.”
Her eyes rounded.
“I notice everything, Izzy. Like you, now, on the verge of a panic attack. And it fucking hurts you keeping me at arm’s length when all I want to do is hold you and slay your dragons.”
She looked away and after a moment, she cleared her throat.
“I think it's best that you leave.”
“No, Izzy. I want to be here with you now.”
She shook her head. “You misunderstand me. You need to leave. Permanently. Take your stuff. We’re over.”
It was like a fist to my gut. My fucking breath wouldn't come to me.
“Izzy…”
She shook her head and brought her hand up to her forehead. Her laugh was humorless.
“While I appreciate the security precautions, I don't appreciate you keeping things from me. You domineer this issue and suffocate me. Now, a background check?”
Her eyes raised to mine. I saw the hurt there, but what I mostly saw was fear.
What, or who, did she fear?
“Izzy, don't do this.”
“Do what?! I was an idiot to think it would work out. A fucking idiot! We come from different worlds, Roman. I never should have stepped into yours or you in mine. It's best to end this now than to further complicate things.”
“How can it get more complicated, Izzy? We’re in love. You can't just sever that.”
She shook her head. “Maybe it's just lust.”
