Brando

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Hvala.”

  “What does hvala mean?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Brando said, giving her a hug.

  His daughter pulled back. “What do I call you?”

  “Papà if you want,” he said, using the Italian word for dad.

  “Does that mean tata?”

  He nodded.

  “The bad people said you’re my real father.” She placed a small hand on his cheek. “Is that why you look like me.”

  “Sì.”

  Her frown deepened. “How can I have two fathers and only one mama?”

  “I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

  “I want to know now.”

  “You’re too young to understand.”

  She puffed out her chest. “No, I’m a big girl. My tata said I was.”

  He smiled, his golden eyes lighting up, Brando looking besotted. His expression made Ivy smile too, this softer side of Brando not something she ever expected to see.

  “You are a big girl,” he said to his daughter, “but you need to be a really big girl to be told this secret.”

  “It’s a secret?”

  “Sì, tesoro,” he said, calling her a treasure. “And I promise I’ll tell you when you’re old enough.”

  “You can’t break promises, so you have to now.”

  “That’s true. Anyway, how about I find you a bedroom? You must be very tired.”

  “I already have a bedroom.”

  “You can’t go back there, and we’ll only be staying here for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to my home and find you a room.”

  “But, I want to go to my home.”

  “You can’t, sweetheart, you need someone to look after you until we find your father.”

  “Will you look after me?”

  He nodded. “I would be honored to.”

  She wrapped her little arms around him. “Thank you, Papà.”

  He placed his cheek on her head and hugged her back.

  Ivy rested her hand on his shoulder.

  He looked up at her. “This is my daughter.”

  She smiled. “I kind of figured that.” She bobbed down and held out a hand to the girl. “Hello, I’m Ivy.”

  The girl let go of Brando and shook her hand. “My name’s Marija.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Marija.”

  “Are you Papà’s wife?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “But, she will be soon,” Brando said.

  “We’ll see about that,” Ivy smiled, not willing to argue the point in front of his daughter.

  “We most certainly will.” He wrapped his arms around Marija again, his smile reaching his eyes.

  36

  Leaning against the front of the Santini house, D watched Vinnie carrying his bags to the black SUV parked several yards away. Looking lost in thought; he threw the bags into the trunk and disappeared around the corner, probably getting more. Unlike everyone else, who’d returned to the compound over two weeks ago, he’d remained with the Orsini, only coming back to get his belongings.

  He reappeared a few minutes later, carrying his guitar case and another bag.

  D stepped away from the wall and limped towards him, her gunshot wound still painful. “Vincenzo!” she called out. He stiffened, making her stop in her tracks, his body language almost hostile.

  “Don’t call me that,” he said, not looking at her.

  “Why? It’s your name.”

  “I hate it.” He slid his guitar case into the trunk.

  “Where are you going?”

  He put the other bag in. “The club.”

  “Will you be back?”

  “Not while my mother lives here.”

  “What about the rest of your family? They’ll miss you.” I’ll miss you.

  He turned to face her, looking like he hadn’t slept. He had dark rings under his eyes and was unshaven, while his clothes were wrinkled and unsuitable for going out in. He was wearing a ripped muscle shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, which was hanging halfway down his ass, revealing his black boxers.

  “I’m not cutting my famiglia out of my life,” he said, “only the woman who gave birth to me.”

  “Brando betrayed you too.”

  His upper lip twitched. “Brando blindly does what our mother tells him to. He even killed his real father because of her.” His face dropped. “Merda! Don’t tell anyone that, especially not Jagger.”

  “I won’t.”

  He breathed out, looking relieved. “It’s not Brando’s fault.”

  “How can you say that? Everyone’s responsible for their own actions.”

  “Maybe, but he’s damaged. I never knew just how much until...” he grimaced, “...the Landi porca told me what he said to her.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing I can repeat. Anyway, I should go now.” He went to turn.

  “Can I see you again?” she blurted out, instantly regretting it.

  He looked at her with surprise. “Why would you want to after the way I treated you?”

  “I...” she paused, “as friends,” she said, knowing he wasn’t interested in more.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He glanced behind him as Dominic appeared with two bags. “Anyway, I should go. Take care.”

  He turned and headed back to the car as his twin jammed the bags into the trunk. D went to leave, knowing this was the end for her and Vinnie.

  “D!” Dominic called out.

  She turned around. Vinnie’s twin came to a stop in front of her, looking so much like his brother it hurt.

  Dominic placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t give up if you truly care about him. What was done to him is still too fresh.”

  “It’s not a matter of giving up; he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “He does—”

  “No, he doesn’t, so there’s no use in trying to push me onto him.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I just want him happy—you made him happy. We may have gotten him back from that fucking porca, but his mind is still with her.” Dominic covered his face.

  D went to hug him, stopping at the sight of Vinnie looking at them through the car window. She refocused on Dominic. “Make sure you take care of yourself, too,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.

  He uncovered his face, his lovely blue eyes shiny. “No, my job is to take care of Vinnie,” his face hardened, “which means I have to track down that Landi witch and make her pay for what she did to him.”

  “When you find her, rip all her nails out for me.”

  An evil smile pulled at his lips. “No, you can do that yourself, though I bags her teeth. I’m going to put them on a necklace and send them to her uncle.”

  She shook her head. “And they say Ricardo’s the vicious one.”

  “No, I’m just vengeful—extremely vengeful.”

  “I better not get on your bad side, then.”

  “There’s no chance of that, sweet-tits.” He turned for the car, giving her a farewell wave. He climbed into the back seat, saying something to Vinnie, who didn’t appear pleased. Before she knew it, the door was closed and they were gone, the SUV disappearing out of sight.

  “You fucking love Vinnie, don’t you, you stupid bitch?”

  D jumped, not having heard Kennedy sneak up on her. She turned to her best friend. “No, I don’t.”

  Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Then, I don’t want to fuck Bella.”

  D grimaced. “I don’t love him.”

  “And again, I don’t want to fuck Bella.”

  “Bullshit, I know you do, you won’t shut up about it.”

  “Like you won’t shut up about Vinnie, so either do something about it or forget about him.”

  D placed her face in front of Kennedy’s. “Then how about you do something about Bella instead of torturing me with all the things you want to do to her.”

  “Only if you do something about Vinni
e.”

  “How about this, I’ll do something about Vinnie after you get Bella into your bed.”

  “Are you seriously daring me? I’m the reigning dare champ, the almighty queen of winning every single dare that has ever befallen this,” she indicated to her body, “goddess that stands before you, unworthy one.”

  Despite her bad mood, D laughed. “Yes, I’m daring you, oh modest one.”

  Kennedy held out her hand. “Then shake on it, soon to be loser.”

  “More like winner, because there’s no way in hell you’re going to bed Bella.”

  “Oh, I definitely will.” Kennedy grabbed D’s hand and shook it hard. “And since I’m such a humble and generous person, after I bed Bella, I’ll give you up to six months to make Vinnie fall in love with you.”

  D pulled her hand free. “That’s not the deal. All I said was I’d do something about Vinnie.”

  “Precisely, to make him fall for you.”

  “No, Kennedy, he’s been hurt. I don’t know what that Landi bitch did to him, but I got a feeling it was sexual. Brando told me to stay away from Vinnie, because he won’t be open to women for a while.”

  “Ignore Brando; he’s a dickhead who loves sucking his own cock. So, is it a deal?”

  “It won’t matter anyway, because you won’t be able to fuck Bella, she’s straight.”

  “Then shake on it and you won’t have to do jack-shit.”

  “Okay.” D shook her hand, knowing without a doubt that Kennedy was going to lose.

  37

  3 Weeks Later

  Kennedy entered the lounge, stopping at the sight of people laughing on the couch. Brando, his daughter and nephew, as well as Ivy, were all watching The Simpsons, which was dubbed in Italian. Brando was waving his hands in the air, explaining to Ivy what Homer Simpson had just said, Ivy’s Italian not very good. Ivy ceased laughing all of a sudden, her face going pale.

  Brando stopped in the middle of his explanation, appearing concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “My stomach’s sore,” Ivy replied. “I don’t think it agreed with lunch.”

  Brando pushed to his feet. “I’ll get you some Sprite.” Without waiting for an okay, he took off towards the kitchen, rushing past Kennedy.

  Ivy’s gaze moved from Brando to Kennedy. The bitch pushed up from her seat and walked over to her, rubbing her stomach. “Why are you watching us?”

  Kennedy sneered at her. “It all worked out for you, didn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kennedy pointed to the kitchen with her left hand. Her right arm was still in a cast from the motorbike accident. “You got your man,” she pointed at Ivy’s stomach, “and a bun in the oven.”

  Ivy’s hand whipped away from her stomach. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “And I don’t lick pussy.”

  Ivy screwed up her face. “God, you’re disgusting.”

  “If I had a cock you wouldn’t be saying that, especially since Brando’s said far worse.”

  “True.”

  Kennedy’s eyebrows shot up. “No rushing to his defense?”

  “No, because you’re right.”

  Kennedy put a finger in her ear and wiggled it about. “Something must be wrong with my hearing, because you just said I’m right.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve—”

  Kennedy cut her off, “Yup, I’m definitely hearing things, because there’s no way the bitch from hell would be saying she’s sorry to me.”

  Ivy exhaled loudly, “I’m being serious here, Kennedy. I know I’ve been horrible to you in the past—”

  “You got that right.”

  “God, you’re not making this easy for me. Could you at least hear me out without interrupting?”

  “Okay, you’ve got my full attention.”

  “What I’m apologizing for, is the way I’ve treated you since you kissed me. I shouldn’t have punched you, but in my defense, it was a reflex reaction, because you totally took me by surprise. Regardless, I also reacted badly to you afterwards. I should’ve apologized back then; I know your bad treatment of me was because I broke your nose and hurt your feelings. I should’ve cleared things up, instead of continuing to act badly.”

  Kennedy blinked, Ivy’s apology now meaning something to her.

  “And I’m also sorry for all you suffered because of what Sasha did to Cassidy.”

  Cassidy’s name made Kennedy blink faster, just the mention of her dead partner tearing her up. Although she’d only known Cassidy for eight months, she’d experienced something she’d never had with anyone: love. Not just her loving Cassidy, but Cassidy loving her back, and so powerfully that she’d found the strength to get through the horrifying days in the Black Palace.

  Ivy placed a hand on Kennedy’s uninjured arm, making her jerk to the side: a reflex. She went still, what Ivy had said about her reaction to the kiss coming to mind. Before Cassidy had come along, she’d had the major hots for Ivy, but hadn’t done anything about it, until that one stupid mother-fucking day she’d gotten so drunk she’d walked up to Ivy and grabbed her face, giving her one giant mistake of a kiss. A punch later and they’d been enemies ever since.

  Ivy resumed talking, “I’m sorry you flinch whenever I touch you, but I understand. How about we just nod at each other and get on with our lives, because, no matter what, I know we’ll continue to clash, just let’s try clashing a little bit less.”

  Kennedy nodded, still dumbstruck by Ivy’s words. Ivy smiled at her, something she wasn’t used to seeing.

  Brando emerged from the kitchen with Ivy’s drink and a bowl of crisps. He handed the Sprite to Ivy. “You coming to watch the rest?” he asked, ignoring Kennedy.

  “You go ahead without me; I want to talk with Kennedy a bit longer.”

  His eyes shot to Kennedy. “Why?” he asked, looking surprised.

  “It’s none of your business, nosy,” Ivy replied.

  “Everything to do with you is my business.”

  “Not this.” Ivy flicked her hand. “So, buzz off.”

  Brando stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m going to give your pussy a tongue-whipping for that later,” he said, only loud enough for Ivy and Kennedy to hear.

  “You’re such a rude man.”

  “And you love it.” He walked over to the kids and sat down next to his daughter, who grabbed a handful of crisps.

  Ivy smiled. “I do love it.”

  “Oh God,” Kennedy said. “That’s why you’re being nice to me: you’re in love and everything is sunshine and rainbows.”

  Ivy turned back to her. “No, I wanted to clear things up with you.”

  “You did, you said sorry for the punch, now run along to your happy little family.”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you about my sister—”

  “Why? Is Menna all right?” Kennedy asked, concerned, her leader not allowing anyone but Ivy, the doctor, and Salvatore to see her.

  “Physically she’s fine, but she’s still in mourning over losing her child.”

  Kennedy frowned. “Then why do you...” Her face dropped. “Oh, God, you aren’t taking over as the leader?” She swore under her breath. “You are, aren’t you; that’s why you’re sucking up to me.”

  Ivy shook her head. “There’s not going to be any change in leadership, and if there was, I wouldn’t be sucking up to you, I’d take the role whether you like it or not.”

  Kennedy scowled at her. “Then what’s this about?”

  “I was referring to my late sister, not Menna. I know you blame Farah for what happened to Cassidy—”

  “You bet I fucking do!”

  The kids on the couch and Brando turned, Brando snapping, “Watch your language!”

  “They don’t speak English, so chill, dude.”

  “I know English,” his nephew piped up. “And my papà said the f word is bad, like the c word that Uncle Dominic says all the time.”

  Brando scowled. “See!”

  “Sorry, I’ll
wash my mouth out later.” Kennedy refocused on Ivy. “And I don’t appreciate you bringing up Farah. If you’re truly sorry, don’t ever mention her to me again.”

  “But what happened at the Black Palace wasn’t Farah’s fault.”

  “Oh, really, you’re going to go there again? Now, let’s see: almost half of the Vipers, including the woman I loved, were slaughtered all because Farah tried to kill the Black Russian. How is that not her fault?”

  “He killed my mother.”

  “I understand why she wanted to kill him, everyone who knows him wants that bastard dead, but she was too stupid to do it without getting caught and involving others. She had to know the Vipers would’ve run to her defense. She was our leader; even I ran full-steam into that battle because of her.”

  “It still wasn’t Farah’s fault.”

  “I don’t care what you think, she was your sister; you’re obliged to defend her.”

  “No, deep down I believed she was in the wrong, but Cyn told me differently.”

  Kennedy pushed away from the wall. “Why? What did she say?”

  “That she was responsible for the Vipers’ deaths, not Farah.”

  “How?”

  “Cyn was a spy for the Black Russian. She told the Black Russian about Farah’s plot against him. She knew all about what was going to happen, but failed to warn us. Do you remember her fighting during the battle?”

  Kennedy’s mind returned to the battle. She had no memory of seeing Cyn fighting at all, but then again, she’d been too preoccupied with trying not to die, than paying attention to the sex-mad freak.

  Ivy continued, “And did you also know Farah was gay?”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened. “No way! I would’ve known, hell, I would’ve been onto her in a second if she was.”

  Ivy grimaced. “She kept it a secret, because she was afraid the Black Russian would push more men onto her like he did to you.”

  Kennedy breathed out, the memory of servicing all those men repulsing her, the Black Russian taking great glee in torturing her.

  Ivy continued, “But because she was our leader, the Black Russian sent Cyn in to befriend her so he could make sure there weren’t any plots against him. Little did he know that Farah had a thing for Cyn. Like what you did to me, Farah kissed Cyn, but unlike me, Cyn returned the kiss, using my sister’s emotions to her advantage.”