Cruel Prince

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by Sophia Reed


  Two obvious pink lines.

  Pregnant.

  I was pregnant.

  Oh my God.

  I was still sitting there an hour later when someone came and banged on the front door of the suite. It scared me half to death. In all the time that I’d been here either with Marco or by myself, no one had come by except when he had specifically called them for delivery food or something. On our way to work, Marco would also contact Vinnie so the place would be cleaned while we were gone, but otherwise, we’d never been disturbed.

  So who could this be?

  Whoever it was knocked again, louder this time, and I scrambled up to my feet. I opened the door to a handsome man in a suit, the well-kept scruff on his face just a smidgen too short to call a beard. As I studied him, I realized he had Marco’s nose and very similar eyes. Was this a member of his family?

  “Hello?” I said to the man.

  “Yes, I’m looking for Kelly Carr.”

  The thought occurred to me that I could be in danger. Marco’s family were criminals, mobsters, so wouldn’t being near them be dangerous? Of course, I’d never once felt like being around Marco was dangerous. He’d made me feel safe and secure. But still.

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “Luca Varasso,” the man answered without compunction. “I’m here to deliver a letter to her.”

  I stared into his face, at those eyes that were so familiar and yet different. This man’s—Luca’s—eyes seemed older. Wearier. As if he frequently bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t strike me as some nefarious criminal, but obviously, I wasn’t the best judge of such things.

  Still, I felt curious about this letter. When I’d left Marco at the police station, it hadn’t been under the best of circumstances. I’d been upset and angry. Freaked out. And I knew what I’d said had hurt him, even though my last words had still been “I love you.” Ultimately, I decided I couldn’t not know what he’d wanted to write to me.

  “Um, yes. I… I’m Kelly.”

  Silently, he handed over the letter. I reached for it, only then realizing I held two pregnancy tests in my hand. I thrust them behind my back.

  “Are you all right, Kelly? You seem… distressed.”

  Distressed? Who me?

  Just because I discovered the man I love was lying to me and was a mobster from a family of mobsters instead of a legitimate business owner? Just because I found out he was having me launder money without my knowledge?

  Just because that man was now almost certainly going to prison because I agreed to spy on him? Just because I’d then broken that man’s heart by telling him it was over? Just because about an hour ago I discovered I was pregnant with that same man’s child?

  How could I possibly be distressed?

  Maybe because this hit me all at once, or maybe because having someone standing in front of me who looked so much like Marco without being him sucked, my surroundings began to swirl around me.

  “Whoa,” Luca said, when I tried to bolt up from the plush couch in the living area. How did I get here? Hadn’t I been standing by the door? “Take a minute. You almost passed out.”

  I held my head in my hands. “I think I did pass out.”

  Luca smiled kindly, but that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t merely a mobster, he was the head of the mobster family. The leader. Which meant he couldn’t be kind. Right?

  But then Marco had been kind. Loving. Sweet. Tender. And he’d lied to me.

  This was so confusing.

  “I recommend you take it easy for a while,” Luca told me. “Pregnancy can really wreak havoc on your system.”

  “How do you know I’m pregnant?” I asked, my voice coming out more shrill than I’d intended. In answer, he nodded at the two stick tests setting beside us on the coffee table.

  “You dropped those.”

  “Oh.”

  “Marco asked me to make sure you received that letter. It was important to him,” Luca said, his tone soft. His voice wasn’t quite as deep as Marco’s, but it was lovely to listen to, almost melodious.

  I glanced at the unsealed letter at my side. Then, almost afraid to breathe, opened it.

  Kelly,

  I have done a great number of things I am not proud of. I am guilty of many crimes and can be linked to several more. I am sorry I didn’t reveal this truth to you, that I promoted you under false pretenses. That I hurt you. I can’t take back what I’ve done, but I can correct the error of my ways.

  By the time you receive this letter, I will likely have gone to the authorities with a deal to turn state’s evidence against a large rival mafia family, and I have more than enough proof to back up my claims. Though I may be asked to reveal my own family’s crimes, that is something I’d rather die than do. I may not be a good man, but I don’t believe in betraying those I love.

  The deal I’m offering the Feds will require me to be entered into the witness protection program. I will have to remain hidden and anonymous and will lose all contact with those from my former life. The one person I may not have to lose contact with, however, is you.

  You mean more to me than these words can possibly convey, and I am asking you to go with me, to build this new life with me. I swear to you that I will never lie to you ever again. I am giving up who I once was because you deserve to be with a man you can trust, and I will prove that you can trust me. Every day for the rest of my life. If you give me the chance.

  I’ll understand if you say no. If I don’t hear from you within the next forty-eight hours, then I’ll assume that is your answer. While I hope you’ll forgive me, that you’ll come with me, I have to be truthful. I don’t expect this new life to be easy. We will be under the umbrella of protective services at all times which will severely limit what we’ll be able to do. We’ll have to live by their rules in order to stay safe. It may not be the type of existence you would enjoy.

  Whatever your decision, please know that I’ll always love you. You’ve shown me what true goodness and compassion is, and I’ll be forever appreciative of that. My life is about to take a sharp right turn, but I’m so thankful that I bought that bistro. Even after everything that’s happened, that decision led me to you, to the time I was able to share with you.

  Whether you decide to be mine or not, please know that I’ll always be yours,

  Marco

  After finishing the letter, I peeked up at Luca. “You read it?”

  “I did.”

  “He’s doing all of this for me.”

  Luca nodded. “Yes.” He watched me for a moment, then asked, “Do you love him, Kelly?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I’m guessing he has no idea you’re expecting.”

  “No, and I don’t know what to do about this,” I admitted. I put a hand on my abdomen. “About any of this.”

  “These are big decisions,” he said, resting his hands on his knees.

  It occurred to me that the man sitting here knew Marco better than I did. That he’d grown up with him in this bizarre existence. That this brother had chosen to be married with two kids while running an organized crime ring. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t make the concept compute.

  “Marco’s not who I thought he was,” I said, wondering how Luca would react to this.

  “I can’t make excuses for him—for my family in general—so I won’t. Up until recently, he and I fought like cats and dogs. But one thing I have to say is that once Marco gives you his loyalty, you have it forever. His word is gold. If he says he’ll do something, he’ll do it.” His gaze became distant as he scratched at a place on his left shin. “He told you about the fire?”

  “About how he got his burns? Yes.”

  “Did he also tell you that he received those burns because he was saving my life?”

  I stared at him. “No.”

  “I was stuck under part of the fallen ceiling on the second floor and couldn’t get out. I also had a broken leg. Marco pulled me free and tried to carry
me to safety, but we ended up getting trapped together under a cave-in on the first floor. He took the brunt of it, getting burned as he protected me.” He paused as if it was too difficult for him to go on. “I owe him everything.”

  “That’s what I can’t get past. He hid so much from me, but he’s also sweet and…”

  Luca chuckled, and I pursed my lips. “I apologize,” he said. “Marco is many things, but no member of our family would consider ‘sweet’ to be one of them.”

  “But he was. He was sweet with me,” I insisted. “It’s like he’s these two different people. The man he was with me, someone who nearly died himself while saving his brother, and…”

  “A Varasso,” he completed my thought. “A member of the Italian mafia.”

  I nodded. “How do you do it? Run this humongous criminal organization with your family right there with you? Don’t you worry about them? About their safety?”

  He offered me a bleak smile. “Twenty-four seven. I’ve gone to massive lengths to keep them out of harm’s way, to keep the more unpalatable aspects away from them, but…” He made a movement as if to put a hand on my arm, but then hesitated, as if rethinking the idea. “There have been times when I’ve failed.”

  “So why continue to do it? Why not leave it all behind?”

  “Like Marco is doing, you mean?”

  “Well, yes,” I said. The answer seemed so obvious to me.

  “I’ve often wished I could, but as the patriarch of the family, my network of unsavory connections is wide-reaching. Closing up shop, as it were, would threaten the stability of the structure itself. It would flush out and expose a lot of dangerous people. Retaliation from them would be inevitable, and I can’t take that risk.”

  “So you think it’s safer to stick with the status quo than to do something like join witness protection?”

  “I’m much more visible in mafia circles than my little brother has been. For now, my best bet is to maintain what already is.” He sighed. “If I’d been given the choice early on, I would’ve chosen something else for myself, but I wasn’t given that choice. None of us were.”

  “But if you thought you could put your past behind you and start over again safely with your family in tow, would you?”

  Luca had been staring unfocused in front of him, but at this question, he focused directly on me. “In a heartbeat.”

  I don’t know why, but this comment made me feel so much better. I realized the Varassos were a family like any other in some ways, and that I’d been judging them incredibly harshly. Not that they didn’t deserve that judgment to a certain degree, but at least as far as this generation was concerned, it sounded as if these men led difficult and complicated existences.

  They had done some horrible things, but they weren’t pure evil, either.

  My life had become entangled with theirs, and now I had to make a tough decision. Continue to live my life without Marco and figure out what to do about the fact that his child was growing inside me. Or walk away from everything I knew, abandoning all I’d always held dear, to go be with him.

  And whatever way I went, someone would end up hurt and disappointed, which I hated. Tears sprang to my eyes as I sat there, overwhelmed by the fact that this was a no-win situation, and I felt Luca place a tentative hand on my shoulder. There was no escaping the truth of the matter.

  I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.

  26

  Marco

  The day after I proposed my deal to the FBI disappeared in a flurry of paperwork, recorded testimony, and lots of discussions happening behind closed doors. It was only after I’d been taken back to my cell late that night that my thoughts and anxieties crept up on me.

  What would Kelly do?

  I’d sacrificed everything to be with her. Ended my relationships with my family. Exposed some of the innards inherent in organized crime. I knew the Bianchis would be arrested in short order. I’d basically fucked them over. But there was no other alternative. I could never do that to my own family.

  I thought of each of them. Luca with Molly, Anna and Antonio eating dinner in the dining room. Alessandro as he tinkered around with a computer program or some other mechanical contraption, some smartassed barb ready if anyone chanced into his presence. Gabriel, the glue of the family, playing peacemaker and providing support whenever anyone needed it.

  Betraying them was unthinkable. Leaving them all behind to be a better man would hardly work if I’ve done something that unforgivable. Not only would it not have been worth it, I never would’ve been able to live with myself. Embarking on this new existence without them was going to be difficult enough as it was.

  Especially if Kelly didn’t join me. And there was every chance that she wouldn’t. She thought of me as a liar and a thug, and while I’d begged her for her forgiveness, the rift between us was far from repaired.

  The next day, the last day I would be able to openly call myself Marco Varasso, felt like a countdown. Preparations were being made largely without me since I wasn’t in control of where I was going or even who I’d become. I’d be given a fresh identity, a name that wasn’t my own. The whole prospect felt odd and unnerving.

  And as the clocked ticked away without any sign from the woman I loved, this feeling of dread began to hang on my shoulders, dragging me down. As nightfall approached, the dread became heavier and heavier, making it hard to move forward. I simply allowed myself to be led from one task to another, from one room to another, in and out of restraints, and then into clothing that had been chosen for me.

  By the time they moved me into a shuttle bus, presumably to go to an airport, train, or bus station, it was pitch black outside. The weather had turned nasty, a mix of icy cold rain and sleet, and it perfectly suited my mood. I’d been given a pair of khakis, loafers, a cardigan and a corduroy jacket to wear, something utterly out of character for me, but then, I guess that was the point. Whoever this man I’d been dressed up as would become was the man I would now be.

  I was taken by two U.S. Marshals, both dressed similarly to me. We looked like a collection of college professors about to go to a teaching conference. I wondered if that was the occupation they’d created for me. They wouldn’t enlighten me one way or the other until we reached our final destination.

  We flew through the night, hours and hours. The marshals kept encouraging me to sleep, but I couldn’t, I was too wound up and frankly, too devastated.

  Kelly had never shown.

  So I would be doing this on my own. Every bit of it. And the reason I’d done it, the person I’d done it for, wouldn’t even be with me.

  The truth of that went from a heavy weight to a knife slicing through me. It was painful enough that I couldn’t allow myself to think about it. If I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to function.

  I’d known all along this could happen, that she might choose to say no, but the reality of it felt even worse than I’d thought it would. I did my best to stay distracted, but there wasn’t much to distract me. I kept telling myself to hold on. To wait. Soon we’d get to where we were going and once the marshals secured the location, they’d leave me alone.

  I needed to wait for that. To be alone. I couldn’t give in to anything I was feeling until then.

  Hold on. Hold on.

  Wait. Just wait.

  We’ll be there soon.

  So I did. I held on through the landing of the plane. I held on as I took my carryon full of garments that weren’t mine and left the airport. I held on as we drove through a valley landscape I was completely unfamiliar with. I held on as I looked up into a wide sky not sleeting or raining but pouring down sunlight on the mountains in the distance.

  And I held on as we pulled up into the driveway of a little Adobe single-story on the outskirts of this small Californian town. Cacti and juniper trees decorated the front yard while tall palms swayed back and forth behind the house. It was quaint, and so foreign to me as to be almost laughable, but I didn’t feel like laugh
ing.

  Wait just a bit longer. Hold on.

  Two other marshals greeted the ones traveling with me, and after going through what I was certain must be standard operating procedures, they let me in. They gave me a tour of the place, but I didn’t pay much attention. The layout of the house didn’t matter. Where I lived didn’t matter. The amenities the house had or didn’t have didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I’d soon have time to myself.

  Now that we’d arrived, though, my patience was eroding. I stood on the porch watching them chat like a bunch of church ladies. I wanted them all to go, to leave, but they seemed content to take their sweet-assed time about it.

  Then, another vehicle pulled into the driveway, and I nearly bit everyone’s head off. What now? Didn’t they realize they needed to get the fuck out of here?

  The vehicle was a minivan with a rolling side door, and as that door opened, I nearly lost my shit. How many marshals did they think would be required for this job? We were on the opposite side of the country for Christ’s sake.

  Besides, getting mown down at this point would only be par for the course.

  Maybe Luca had been right about that goddamned curse all along.

  And then someone stepped out of the minivan, and my breath caught in my throat. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

  “Kelly?” I whispered as if she were an apparition that might dissolve if I spoke any louder.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling nervously and remaining where she was.

  “You… You’re here,” I stammered out, barely able to articulate. “Does that mean you’re coming with me?”

  “No,” she said, and my stomach, heart, lungs, and every other organ inside of me plummeted to my toes. “It means we’re coming with you.” She lowered her hands to her own stomach, clasping them together and moving them back and forth as if cradling something.

 

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