by Gina Whitney
I stared at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, threatening to burst from my chest at any given second. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I refused to let them go, knowing they’d only interfere with my sight. And I needed to see this with my own two eyes if I wanted to believe it to be true.
“Sometimes you kneel before me, and other times you lay beneath me, but that will never take away from how important it is to have you beside me—next to me. Now and always. I will protect you, love you, and do everything in my power to give you everything you need or want. My yesterdays were dark and cold, but my tomorrows are bright and warm, because you are my present. You are my future. You are my everything.”
I’d heard him say sweet things to me before, but nothing of this caliber. Hearing it made my heart swell, and I could no longer hold back the tears as they cascaded down my cheeks, falling from my chin. But they didn’t make me weak, because they came from something so strong—my love for Stefan.
He pulled a box from inside his jacket, holding it between his hands as he leaned in closer to me. “Jordana Albanese—”
“Giannotti,” I said, cutting him off. “My name is Jordana Marie Giannotti.”
He smiled and his dark eyes lit up. “Jordana Giannotti…” He opened the black velvet box, revealing a cushion diamond—no less than two and a half carets—surrounded by smaller, invisible set diamonds wrapping around the platinum band. Just the way the center stone caught the light of the candles caused my breath to cease in my lungs. I gasped as it sparkled in the box, knowing just how much it would sparkle on my finger.
“I’m going to need you to hurry this along, Stefan…my finger is itching for that beautiful piece of heaven in your hand,” I teased, the sight of my ring making me impatient.
A rare chuckle escaped him as he pulled the diamond from the box, holding my left hand in his. “I’m not going to ask you to marry me. I didn’t the other day, and I won’t right now. The only reason why I’m putting this ring on your finger is to let everyone know you’re mine.” He slid the ring past my knuckle.
I heard him say something, but I only answered it with a, “Uh-huh.”
“Excuse me?”
My eyes finally snapped back to his with a giant smile on my lips. “I’m sorry, Stefan, I couldn’t hear you past the sparkle of my ring.”
With a growl, he pulled me to my feet with him, spun me around, and bent me over until I nearly fell face first into my chair. He stood behind me, my ass in his crotch, his erection evident behind his slacks. “So testy, Tesoro.” His hand caressed my backside gently before pulling back and spanking me, causing me to flinch forward with a yelp. But then he immediately rubbed the sting away, only to repeat the action again on the other side.
After three amazing smacks, he pulled me back up and turned me to face him.
“I said…are you happy, my love?” The slight upturn at the corners of his lips and the spark in his eyes showed the depths of his love for me.
“Happier than I ever dreamed I could be,” I answered him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulled me into his body by my hips.
“Are you ready to stand by my side as we take things over?”
“More than ready,” I said a split second before he greedily took my mouth with his.
Our kiss had barely been broken for two seconds before the mute waiter came back to the table, standing a few feet away. He glanced at us both before nodding to Stefan. Then he spun around and disappeared like the magician he seemed to be. Here one minute…silently gone the next.
“What was that all about?”
“Our business is about to take place, Mrs. Giannotti.”
“Here? We’re doing it here?”
He nodded and took a step back to straighten his tie. “The back room is already set up, waiting for us. Everyone will be here shortly. We mustn’t keep them waiting.”
I turned to the table, noticing my glass of wine with maybe three gulps left. I picked it up and chugged the rest, feeling the warmth flow down my throat. I turned back to Stefan, watching the humor dance in his eyes, even though his expression remained stoic. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The best way to enter our business is to be born into it. We define ourselves by our family, and family demands sacrifice. In the Mafia, it’s customary for people sit at a table to discuss their problems and walk away with at least some resolution. It was a therapy session of nods, crude cursing, and gesturing arms. The Mafia understands that grudges only interfere with growth, and simmering disputes only boil over, causing serious trouble. A Mafia family that plays together…stays together.
It was time to see if that ideology still held true.
Stefan held my hand tightly as we made our way into the back room of Amichi’s. As far as I knew, no one was aware of Carlo’s presence in the states, let alone in our town. I hated lying to my father, and rarely did. However, I now found myself caught in the snare of deceit, and I almost felt relieved that it was coming to an end tonight. Besides, I suspected there were things Stefan hadn’t shared with me, and my curiosity was full to the brim.
My father had faced some rough periods. We all have. That being said, I prayed that seeing me—his little girl—at the table tonight wouldn’t spark a situation that could leave us all bathed in blood. He was a brave soldier, and a proud, stubborn man. I was sick to my stomach with the thought of the colorful words he’d choose after hearing that I’d gotten married…and to whom. And as if my father’s words weren’t enough, I was rather certain that Mick Giannotti’s actions could start a war between the families. This could all end so horribly wrong, and the fear manifested itself into anxiety that left my eye twitching.
At the end of the day, I was in a roomful of serial killers. But who the next victim would be was a mystery that caused fear to course through my bones.
Stefan led me to the back room, and we stepped in without sharing a word. The strong arm he held my elbow with provided me security and fueled my confidence. We could do this. Silence filled every corner and bounced off the taupe walls, striking me with the need to say something. Not that I had anything to say, but I was desperate for the silence to end. It was eerie and sent a chill racing down my spine. Ominous—that was the word. Very telling of what would take place in this very room tonight.
Stefan moved silently to the head of the table and pulled out a chair for me. My eyes widened in surprise—being in on this with him was one thing, but to share the head of the table with him? That meant so much more. And doused me with even more confidence to ward off the nerves at the reactions we’d get once the families arrived. I wasn’t facing this alone. Stefan sat next to me, both of us sharing one end of the very large table.
I glanced around the room, needing something to distract me from the overwhelming quiet that enveloped the room. I noticed how all the furniture had been removed except for the twenty-five foot table we sat at, which ran down the center with chairs surrounding it. The wood appeared distressed from age, and it made me wonder if it had a particular meaning—like, was this the actual table that fathers before ours sat at and discussed business? I shook off that question and glanced at the items on top of the table, finding demitasse cups of espresso, a dish of lemon rinds, and bowls filled with sugar cubes. A few bottles of uncorked Chianti sat in the middle of the table along with a few boards of Italian meats strewn between various platters of cheese. Both of the table ends held fruit horns with grapes, oranges, apples, nectarines, figs, and fanuk.
My thoughts were interrupted as loud voices entered the room. I turned my attention to the door and picked out my father’s face as he came to an abrupt halt. I kept my hands clasped in my lap beneath the table to prevent him from catching sight of my ring. His eyes burned into mine, filled with concern before catching the sight of the man to my left, then his brow lifted with question. I knew where his mind went—Matty. But I couldn’t read his facial expression well enough to pick it apart.
On either side of my fa
ther, Vito—Daddy’s underboss—and Sunny came to stand. Vito’s thin face wore a harsh and furious expression as he sneered at the two of us sitting at one head of the table. I turned my gaze to Sunny, unable to keep my eyes on Vito any longer, and the ever so slight upturn of Sunny’s lips as he discreetly winked at me provided some comfort. I released a heavy breath that I wasn’t aware I’d held in.
Vito stepped forward and roared, “What the fuck is all this?”
My father lifted his hand to silence his underboss, never taking his eyes off the table where Stefan and I sat in silence. “What are you doing here, Jordana? What is all this about? Stefan requested a meeting, and I assumed it was in regards to Matteo. And now I come in here and find you…” He turned his questioning gaze to the man sitting next to me and glared at him. “Have you put my daughter in jeopardy?”
“Relax, old man. I would never put Jordana in jeopardy. In fact, I’d risk my own life before allowing anything to ever happen to her.” Stefan stayed seated as he held out his arm, gesturing to the chairs on the side of the table next to me. “Please, Gene, have a seat.”
I remained speechless, observing everything happening around me as if I were an outsider, watching the men interact around me like they were strangers to me. Stefan’s tone was calm and collected, very much in charge, and that empowered me, but the frantic worry my father wore on his face caused me despair. I loved my father and knew he worried about Matty. The last thing I wanted was to cause him additional apprehension. I held on to hope that once he heard what was going on, some of his discomfort would ease. A kaleidoscope of emotions ran rampant inside me, leaving me dizzy and confused.
Stefan grabbed my hand beneath the table, once again calming me down and settling my nerves. He could read me better than I could myself. My father silently came to the table and took the seat next to me without looking at me. Vito took the chair beside him while Sunny stood in the space between the two men. In my peripheral vision, I saw the men pass glances between them in silence, the tension became suffocating.
Before another word could be uttered, the door swung open again and the same waiter from before escorted Mick and another man into the room. They both took one step in before their faces turned beet red, glaring at my father and then us.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My dad stood from his seat, his chair sliding back and hitting Sunny in the leg. “Is this an ambush? Somebody better start fucking spilling…and now! I want to know what the fuck is going on. Where’s my fucking son?” His voice boomed in the otherwise quiet room. I’d never heard him sound so angry before, and it caused my panic to rise.
Stefan squeezed my hand one more time before letting it go, placing his palms calmly on the top of the table in front of him. “Enough!” His stern voice earned the attention of the room. “Gene, you will get your answers. But nothing will happen until everyone is seated and this meeting can begin.”
Mick moved to the other end of the table, opposite Stefan and me.
“No, Pops. Not there.” Stefan pointed to the chair beside him. “You and Vinny can sit beside us, across from Gene. I called this meeting to set the record…clear the air, if you will. So I suggest everyone take their seats and calm the fuck down.”
Mick’s eyes narrowed on Stefan, seeming as though he had a retort on the end of his tongue, but kept it to himself as he begrudgingly stalked to the empty chair on Stefan’s side of the table. The other man, Vinny, took a seat next to him. As far as I knew, Mick hadn’t filled Zeke’s position as underboss, but then again, I wasn’t exactly privy to their family business.
“Okay, you have us here. Would somebody fucking explain?” Mick asked, glancing at the faces around the table—completely skipping mine.
“I called this meeting—”
Mick pounded his fist on the table, interrupting Stefan. His blazing eyes glared at my husband next to me, his lips set in a firm line. It made feelings of fierce protectiveness come to the forefront. Feelings I’d never experienced toward Stefan before. I knew at that moment that if someone did anything to my husband, I’d fucking gut them like a fish. “You don’t have the authority to call a meeting, much less one that would involve another family. And don’t even get me started on your position at the head of the table”—his fierce eyes turned to me, burning a hole in my face—”with this one sitting by your side.”
Stefan leaned forward, closing in the gap between him and his father. “This one? Maybe you should show some fucking respect. Her name is Jordana.”
“I know who Jordana Albanese is,” his father said with a sneer.
“Correction…Jordana Giannotti.”
Gasps sounded around the table from both sides.
“She’s no longer an Albanese. She’s a Giannotti. She’s my wife and your daughter-in-law. And I will not put up with you—or anyone—disrespecting her in front of me or behind my back. Have I made myself clear?”
“This can’t be,” my father’s whispered words hit me hard and sounded over Mick’s loud voice as he asked, “What have you done?”
“Please, Daddy. Just listen. Let Stefan explain.” I lifted my hand to place it over his, but nothing erased the cold, rejected expression in his eyes.
Stefan held up one finger and waited until the background noise of the men quieted some before speaking. “If you stop, I will explain.” He paused to affirm that he had the attention of all the men around the table. “For some time now, our families have been at war.”
“For good reason!” Mick shouted, testing Stefan’s patience.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Pops. You’ve pointed your finger at the Albaneses for Nico’s death. Without warrant, without cause, only on suspicion alone. Gene has never had a reason to go after you, your business, or your son…yet you still put the blame on him.”
“Oh, see? That’s where you’re fucking wrong, my son.” Mick’s evil sneer had me on the edge of my seat as he glared at my father from across the table. “It’s more than just a fucking suspicion…I found out that your brother was fucking Vito’s wife.” He turned his attention back to Stefan. “And we all know that sleeping with somebody’s wife gets you whacked. I don’t need breadcrumbs to follow the trail back to the smoking gun.”
“Wait.” Stefan interrupted, holding up his hand, palm out. “You knew Nico was sleeping with another man’s wife, and you allowed it to happen?”
My head spun with the new light shed on this feud between our families. I’d never understood why Mick would’ve put the blame on my father, but this made so much sense. Had I not already known the person responsible for Nico’s death, Mick’s words would’ve had me questioning my own family.
Mick shook his head. “You know I would never condone that behavior. We all live by the same code, no matter the last name, and I never would’ve let it go on had I known about it prior to his death. It had been brought to my attention after the fact, when I’d gone out with my ear to the ground, looking for some direction to the motherfucker who took my son’s life.”
All eyes turned to my father. He took a deep breath and fanned out his fingers on the table in front of him. His gaze fell on every member around him before speaking. “If you’re insinuating that we knew about this before you did, then you are incorrect. Like you, Mick, we weren’t aware of this affair until after the fact. And with Nico already in the ground, we found no purpose in coming to you or anyone else over the matter. Vito’s wife was taken care of, the situation had been resolved and buried.”
“Well, if it wasn’t you…then who fucking killed my son?”
“I’m getting to that, if you would just quiet the fuck down.” The table grew silent again as they all waited patiently for Stefan to continue. “For someone who’s all about honor, my brother dishonored and shamed this family—and has continued to shame this family from beyond the grave. You’ve dismissed the claims that Nico was involved in drugs, but turning a blind eye to his weaknesses only caused you to turn your back on him. I have every reason
to believe the Carraras are behind his death, and that it had nothing to do with who he was fucking, and everything to do with his addiction to drugs.”
“And how could you possibly have come to this conclusion?” Vinny piped up for the first time, his deep voice startling me.
“I can’t share that information with you at the moment, but I can assure you that I have the proof, and actions will be taken. But those actions won’t happen until I give the okay. You are not to seek your own revenge, do you hear me, Pops?”
“Not only do we have a Sherlock fucking Holmes here, but we also have someone appointing himself as the head on this family.” Vinny’s laugh nearly made me cringe, but I remained still and calm, not showing my attitude toward his direct lack of respect. If only he knew…
Mick stood from his seat, pressing his knuckles onto the table as he leaned forward. “As nice as it all is that you’ve taken it upon yourself to mend the fucking fences between our families in order to justify your marriage to an Albanese, don’t you think it’s a little late for this? What is this all about? Now you’re looking to bring everyone into the fold…after you’ve taken a vow? I didn’t know you even had an eye for the girl, let alone dated her. Now you’re married? And what? You want us all to be one big happy fucking family? I don’t have time for this, Stefan. I have bigger problems to deal with!” He slammed his fist into the table. “Zeke is missing, and I’ve heard nothing about that. Why don’t you make yourself useful and find out what happened to him instead of going off and getting married and calling fucking meetings you have no authority to call.”
“I already know what happened to Zeke,” Stefan said calmly.
My head snapped to him, my eyes growing wide. My heart pounded in my chest at this turn of events. Was he really going to tell him the truth? Would he really tell his father what I’d done? Panic consumed me until I couldn’t breathe.
