by Sam Mariano
I let go of Sal’s waist so we can walk downstairs, but I still hold his hand. I want to offer him as much protection as I possibly can, at least until I know whether or not he needs it.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I look back the way Adrian and Ethan just came, toward the living room. That’s when I see the man on the floor. I gasp, covering my mouth. Sal grabs me, pulling me close and pressing my face to his chest.
“Don’t look,” he murmurs.
“Oh, my god,” I murmur into his chest, feeling ill. “Oh, my god.” I didn’t see who the man was though, and now I feel like I need to look to make sure. Sal doesn’t let go though, so I ask, “Who is that?”
“Antonio Castellanos,” Ethan answers.
My eyes go wide and I look up at Sal, shock written all over my features. “Your dad?”
His jaw ticks, and he presses me back into his chest. I’m throwing him off his game, so I stop. My heart is thumping so loudly I’m sure he can feel it as I mold myself to his torso. I think I’m going to be sick. I can’t stay hidden in his chest. He can’t be okay. Is the man in the other room injured, or dead? Adrian is here, so I’m assuming dead. Oh, my god.
“Sal?”
He finally looks down at me, his tone a little more firm as he tells me, “It was my dad or your brother, Francesca.”
My chest caves in with every exhalation as I process the ramifications of what he just said. The fights we’ve had, the nights we’ve stopped talking—only until bed, because apparently Sal holds firm to the “don’t go to bed angry” principle.
He sacrificed his own father to save my brother. A man he doesn’t even like. For me.
Ethan is talking, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Everything is drowned out by the sudden crush of sympathy and affection bearing down on me. Sal is paying attention to them right now, because this is probably business time, but I can’t stop myself—I grab his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He’s surprised at first, but even with an audience, he responds, pulling me close and kissing me back. He knows what this is for. I wish Adrian and Ethan weren’t here, because I want to rip his clothes off and give him a much more appropriate show of gratitude.
Adrian eventually clears his throat.
I wish he’d go away, but he won’t. Still holding on to Sal, I press my forehead against his and whisper, “I’m so sorry. Thank you. I love you so much.”
He gives me a little smile, and this one’s real. Not the smirk he had to paint on to face Adrian, who in all likelihood just murdered his father a minute earlier, but a genuine one. Even with the other men clearly close enough to hear, he murmurs back, “I love you, too.”
Once I pull back I wrap my arm around his waist again, feeling even more protective than a moment ago—and that’s saying something.
Adrian raises an eyebrow, looking at me instead of Sal. Finally, he speaks. “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re here of your own free will or not.”
I shake my head. “We’re in love.”
“Yeah, I got that,” he says, dryly. Now his gaze moves back to Sal. “All this start that day the bakery?”
Sal nods his head.
“Huh.”
I’m not sure where we go from here, but since Adrian’s here, I go ahead and ask, “How’s Mateo?”
Adrian frowns, pulling out his cell phone. “I don’t know, actually.”
“He’s fine,” Sal answers. “My guy took care of the situation. I had no idea they were going after Mia—the man who came for her has been eliminated.”
Now my eyes go wide again. “Who went after Mia?”
Sal flicks me a glance, but doesn’t answer.
Fuck.
“She’s fine. She’s with Mateo. Unless they’re making use of the hotel room, I assume they’re on their way home.”
“Oh my god, what?” I’m trying to contain myself, but there is way too much excitement going on in these few minutes. Things need to calm down fast.
Adrian is not amused. If anything, he’s less amused now than he was a moment ago. Apparently he decides that’s more pressing than what we’re doing right here, because he slides his finger across his phone and steps outside to call my brother.
Ethan glances back in the living room, then looks to Sal. “Why don’t we get you two out of here? Your location’s blown all to hell anyway, so if this doesn’t go the way you think it will, there’s not much we can do about it now.”
Sal nods and looks over at me. “You need to grab your purse or anything?”
“Are we coming back here?” I ask, tempted to glance over my shoulder. I feel a little sad that they killed his dad in the living room, not just because they killed his dad, but because I had already fallen in love with the idea of him buying us this house, and now that’s obviously not going to work. I can’t ask him to curl up and watch movies in the same living room where his dad was killed.
“I’m not completely sure what happens now,” he states. “It depends on your brother.”
I run upstairs to grab my purse. When I get back downstairs, the men are in the kitchen waiting for me. Adrian has rejoined the group, and he nods for me to follow him.
“Wait, I want to ride with Sal,” I tell him.
“You can see Sal later.”
Sal speaks up now. “I’m not sending her to Mateo by herself.”
Adrian spins back around, clearly losing patience with both of us. “Look, do you want it to turn into a pissing contest? Because that’s what will happen if you go in with her. You’re both better off if Francesca meets him alone first, then he’ll talk to you. Trust me; he wants to talk to you, too.”
“It’s fine,” I say, before Sal can even respond. I nod my head, because Adrian is right. As much as I’m dreading this next encounter, it needs to be just me and Mateo. If Sal comes with me, it will be so much worse.
“Then I’m following you,” he tells me, immovably. “I’m not sending you there unprotected.”
“She doesn’t need protecting from her own brother,” Adrian snaps.
“Yeah? Tell that to Luciana Morelli,” Sal shoots back.
“Okay.” I hold up a hand, stepping past them to go out to the garage. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Chapter Thirty Two
Francesca
Mateo stands perched at the edge of his desk, staring down at me as I squirm in my chair. I’ve been sitting here for a good five minutes waiting for him to speak, and he hasn’t. I assume that means he’s waiting for me to start, but I don’t know what to say. There’s plenty that needs to be said, but I ugh, I don’t want to.
So I keep sitting there, and he keeps waiting.
Finally, he pushes off the desk and heads over to the alcohol cart. He comes back with a glass for each of us, and I grimace as I take mine.
“Because it went so well last time?” I ask dryly.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Well, look at that, you’re already talking.”
Heaving a sigh, I balance the alcohol on my legs and lament this choice of outfit. I’m wearing yoga pants and a cotton T-shirt, while he’s standing there in his three piece suit. I might as well be wearing pajamas. I should’ve changed clothes before I came in to meet him so I at least felt a little more dignified.
“I’m really, really sorry,” I tell him, daring a glance in his direction.
“For which part?” he asks, eyebrows rising. “For sneaking around with Salvatore? For framing Meg? For lying to me? For using Mia to distract me? For pretending to give a fuck? For the information you undoubtedly leaked to people who tried to kill me? For putting Mia at risk? For putting Meg’s life in jeopardy? I know she’s not your favorite, but I can’t imagine you feel good about nearly getting her killed.”
“I didn’t. I had nothing to do with that. Sal had nothing to do with that. His father acted alone—Sal never would have gone along with it. He wants peace with you, not war. I understand how it might look because you’ve been in the dark, and I’m reall
y sorry about that, but what else could I do? I knew you wouldn’t let me date him if I asked; you’d just assume he was using me and I was too stupid to see it.”
“Because that’s certainly never happened before,” Mateo states, unkindly.
I press my lips together, narrowing my eyes at him. “Low blow.”
“So was everything you did.”
At least I have the decency to bow my head, ashamed of having hurt him. He sure as hell never extends the same courtesy. “The man I love let his father be murdered today to protect your ass. If he’s using me for some dastardly end, you’ve gotta commend his dedication.”
“I’m too busy commending your duplicity; I didn’t think you had it in you.”
I quirk an eyebrow, finally taking a tiny sip of my drink. “Well, underestimating the women in your life is a common mistake you make, isn’t it?”
His eyes narrow, but I don’t flinch.
“I’m really sorry if I hurt you,” I tell him. “That was never my intention; I was just trying to take a little happiness for myself. Trust me, we have all been hurt in this.”
Nodding slowly, Mateo watches me as he takes a drink. “How did they know to go after Mia?”
A flush creeps up my neck and heats my face. Adrian filled me in on the details he was aware of in the car, but he wasn’t there—apparently Mateo rode to her rescue solo, which really isn’t his style. “I don’t know,” I finally tell him.
“Did you tell them—?”
I don’t even let him finish. “No. I didn’t leak anything to Sal’s family. I wouldn’t do that. I’ve never even met any of them except for Sal and Mark. Well, and Sal’s one sister, but she’s not involved like that.”
“Then why would they go after Vince’s girlfriend? They’re nobodies.”
Grimacing, I try to consider what will piss him off the least. I can’t think of a single thing. Even though I meant no harm, he wouldn’t be pleased that I’ve been talking about his personal life outside of our family.
Since I’m silent way too long, scrambling for an excuse, he speaks again. “I specifically told you not to drag Mia deeper into our bullshit.”
“I didn’t. Maybe they only went after Mia because she was at the bakery. Maybe it wasn’t her they were striking out at, just a Morelli holding they know is less protected. I would never put Mia in danger, and Sal knows better, anyway.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Francesca. If he knows better, he knows she matters to me.”
I can’t talk my way around that, so I stick with the truth. “He knows you have a history. But he doesn’t want to be your enemy. He wouldn’t use that against you—and I didn’t tell him on purpose, I was just talking about my life…” I trail off to a stop, as his expression moves past knowing and into a blatant insinuation that I’m a moron. “He wasn’t using me to get information. We’re in a relationship and we talk about our lives. He talks to me about his sister’s stupid douchebag ex, and I may have at some point mentioned that Mia’s your soulmate.” I shrug innocently, like he couldn’t possibly fault me for that.
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Oh, my mistake. That’s obviously suitable pillow talk.”
“I realized after the fact that maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.”
“Why is Mia already campaigning for you?”
That draws a frown out of me. “What?”
“The whole way home she tried to convince me that I want peace with the Castellanos family. Which was amusing in the sense that watching Mia try to deliberately influence me is like watching an elephant try to tiptoe, but also mildly aggravating, because she wouldn’t know to do that without prompting.”
I take another sip of my alcohol, flashing him the doe eyes. “I may have mentioned to her in passing that peace between our families is as good for you as it is for them.”
Now Mateo regards me dryly, shaking his head. “You’re right. I’ve underestimated you.”
“But it was true,” I point out, widening my eyes. “Calculating, maybe, but also true.”
“You can’t use Mia to handle me,” he states.
“I’m not trying to handle you,” I assure him. “I am loyal to you and our family, but I want to be with Sal. Now that his dad’s gone, Sal is going to be the head of his family. And I do have the power to sway him. I’m just saying.”
This makes him smirk, shaking his head. “So your relationship benefits me.”
“It already has,” I inform him. “Nothing that went in your favor today would have if not for me. Sal’s dad is dead because he knew how much it meant to me to keep you alive, Mark was there to save Mia because Sal wanted him there to protect me. I can keep going if you need an itemized list.”
He nods, understanding the truth of that statement. Mateo is a lot of things, but above all he’s pragmatic. He may be legitimately pissed off at me for all I’ve kept from him, but utility trumps everything else in my family—if I’m useful enough, he’ll be lenient. Even without all the gory details, even knowing I went behind his back, today’s events make it pretty clear I’ve been lobbying for him on the other side. Frankly, with me on their side, if Sal would’ve wanted to take down Mateo, I could’ve helped him do it. I know him, I know his weaknesses, I know all his core people, I know their weaknesses—if I wanted to bring Mateo down, I wouldn’t be sitting in his study right now asking his forgiveness.
Mateo knows all that.
He’s probably already gone over all this prior to our meeting, and he’s just going through the motions for me now. He’s already determined what he’ll do; nothing I say will actually have an effect. He’s probably already thought through ways he can use me in the future, now that I’ll be a direct line to the other side.
I’m still glad he’s alive, but he’s such a scheming bastard.
“I’ll have to talk to Salvatore first,” he informs me, putting his glass down on the desk and crossing his arms over his chest. “You need to stay out of my love life. I’m with Meg, not Mia, and Mia doesn’t have my protection so she shouldn’t have a target on her back either.”
“Do you love Meg?”
“I do,” he answers, without hesitation.
That wasn’t exactly the response I expected, and certainly not so quickly. Consequently, I can’t hold back a brief frown. “Enough that you don’t think about Mia anymore?”
Instead of answering that one, he raises his eyebrows. “This is the opposite of what I want. No more of this. You have to retire from meddling in my love life. I have it under control and I can manage without your help.”
“Without my help, you’d still think Mia’s keeping quiet out of fear.”
“Without your help, my life would be less complicated,” he states.
“No, you complicated things with the damn maid. If you would’ve let me get involved before instead of telling me to stay out of it, I could’ve figured all this out and helped you patch things up with Mia months ago.”
“Perhaps, but that didn’t happen. I did meet Meg. And I do love Meg. And you need to butt out.”
“Does Meg love you?” I ask, since I still have one more point to make.
“Yes, she does.”
“Does she really? All of you?” I ask, a little more pointedly. “Have you told her the truth about what you did to Mia?” When he doesn’t answer, I take that as a no. “Vince said something to me once, something that really resonated. He told me that Mia knew the absolute worst thing he’d ever done, and she still loved and accepted him. She could look in his darkest corners, and they wouldn’t scare her off. Somehow you haven’t scared Mia off and she knows how flawed you are; she knows you have it in you to be callously malicious. Mia has seen you at your worst, and she still sees something in you worth protecting. If you can’t say that about Meg, I think you’re with the wrong person. And Mia is damn sure with the wrong person; Vince knows the worst thing she’s ever done, and he does not accept her despite it. He makes her pay for it—for you—every chance he gets.�
��
Mateo is silent, but visibly irritable; I’m touching a nerve.
So I touch a little more.
“I also think you’re setting yourself up for Beth-like pain down the road,” I add. “You’re lying to Meg about who you are, and she’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe she knows some of what you’re capable of, but the fact that you know she’d abandon you if she knew the whole truth? That’s not exactly a solid foundation. If you think I’m wrong, tell her. See if she stays. I think you’re trying to pick the safe bet, and you’re wrong. Meg is not the safe bet.”
“Are you done?”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again,” I tell him. I don’t add that I think he’s a couple heartbreaks away from becoming an irredeemable monster; that won’t help. “I want to see you happy and well-loved. I know Mia would never hurt you. I can’t say the same for Meg.”
“She took a bullet for me,” he states.
I smile, but there’s no humor in it. “So has Mia. Quite a few, actually.”
Mateo rolls his eyes, retrieving his drink from the desk and throwing the rest of it back. “I’m going to ship you off with Castellanos just to get you out of my ear.”
Now I grin in earnest. “I can live with that.”
“Does he know you’re a meddler?”
I nod vigorously. “He finds it endearing. Proof of how much I care about people. Maybe you’d see it that way too if you weren’t so cynical.”
“Let me guess,” he says, lightly mocking. “I’d be less cynical if I had Mia?”
I shrug, trying and failing to look innocent. “You said it, not me.”
“And I’m the shit-stirrer in this family,” he mutters.
I put my hands out like scales. “Shit-stirrer, harbinger of fate… who’s to say where the line is drawn?”
Chapter Thirty Three
Salvatore
I’m more than a little relieved when Francesca emerges from Mateo’s study in reasonably good spirits. I thought he’d be cruel, and since she inexplicably loves the bastard, that would hurt her. Frankly, I’ve been dreading her coming back out since she walked through those doors without me. Last thing I want is a pissing contest, like Adrian said, but I’m not going to let him subject my girl to his abuse, either. I don’t give a fuck who he is.
