I had known some about the Faustis, but more about the five families. The Faustis didn’t deal in petty shit. They were royalty in Italy and beyond. Their dealings made headlines. So did their marriages when one of them took a bride, using Capo’s archaic term. And when I asked Capo just how deep it went, he said, “Consider the Faustis a lawless land that no president or dictator can touch. They rule their own territories. And whatever they feel belongs to them does. End of story.”
He glanced at me before he turned back to the road. “You have a lot to learn about the good in life, Mariposa. It’ll be my pleasure to teach and show you.”
With that, we swapped music until we pulled up to the address Keely had given Capo.
* * *
My stomach took a dive when Capo parked in front of the house I’d grown up in until I was ten. “Why are we here?”
He took his sunglasses off and studied my face. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“That this is where we were going, Mariposa.”
“No.” I shifted in the seat some. “Keely only told me that the party was at a friend’s house on Staten Island.”
I’d had a dress fitting that morning. Giovanni had taken me, and then Capo picked me up for Keely’s party after. She wanted to leave early, so she had given Capo the address while I was getting ready. She wanted to help set everything up. Capo must’ve assumed I already knew.
Judging by his hard face, he had no idea that she hadn’t mentioned it to me. He didn’t seem to like surprises. I could tell by the way everyone around him briefed him on everything.
“I thought that’s why you were nervous,” he said, staring past me toward the house. I wondered if he remembered bringing me there.
“No,” I said. “I was nervous because you’re basically meeting the family. Now I’m nervous because I haven’t stepped foot in this house in eleven years. This place is the only house I’ve ever called home.”
“That’s not going to help.” He took my arm, stopping me from fanning my armpits.
It was hot out and my nerves had me on edge. The heavenly perfume worked overtime. The entire car smelled sweet. I loved how the scents seemed to subtly change from time to time. Sometimes I’d smell more caramel, other times, pistachio or sandalwood. It smelled more like almond in that moment.
We became quiet for a while, but my thoughts were running rampant, and if I didn’t say something soon, I felt like a blood vessel might burst. My heart felt close to it.
“After Jocelyn died, I was too young to really consider what happened to me. I lost the only parents I remembered. I was thrown out of my safe place, thrown into the system, which felt wild and unsafe. It wasn’t until I turned eighteen that I realized just how much I lost when I lost them.
“I never had the time to really think about it, you know? It was survive, survive, survive. And then one night, it hit me. Keely and her family loved me, but I had no parents. I was no one’s baby girl. That’s what Jocelyn used to call me, her baby girl. They were good to me. So good to me.”
“Home is wherever you make it,” Capo said, his voice gruff. “Come, Mariposa. Now or ten minutes, waiting is not going to change the way you feel. It’ll only make you feel worse.”
I couldn’t decide what to concentrate on first once Capo opened the door to the car for me. The fact that we were climbing up the steps to the house I had never thought to enter again. Or the fact that Capo wore comfortable clothes—a black t-shirt that fit his chest like a glove, jeans that showed off his thin waist and toned legs, and that ass. His boots only upped his level of supreme coolness. Or the fact that when the door opened to the house, Harrison stood on the other side, staring at us with daggers in his eyes.
I wondered if Keely had truly gone to help set up the party, or if she had gone to break the news to her brother before he found out this way.
Before Harrison made a sound, his eyes raked over Capo, and Capo’s eyes did the same to him. Harrison’s attention stilled on our connected hands before he met my eyes. I felt Capo watching him while he stared at me.
I had no idea what to expect, but the hurt in Harrison’s eyes took me by surprise. It hit me square in the chest and stole my breath. He was like my brother. He was my family. Even before Capo, I’d never had romantic feelings for him, or for anyone.
Keely came up behind Harrison and greeted us, making the situation less awkward for me. The two men didn’t seem to care. Neither one was willing to make introductions. Keely did it.
“Harrison,” she said, a certain level of warning to her tone. “This is Mac, Mari’s…” She hesitated for a breath before she said, “fiancé. Capo Macchiavello. Everyone but Mari calls him Mac. Mac, this is my brother, Harrison Ryan.”
Harrison nodded once. Capo did the same. The air between them was tense. I hadn’t mentioned to Capo what Keely had said about her brother’s feelings. I didn’t feel it was necessary. Harrison had never admitted that to me, and to broach the subject with Capo felt like a betrayal of Keely. She had told me that in secret.
Capo had picked up on it, though. His grip on my hand grew firmer, and I didn’t particularly like the look in his eyes. I’d never seen it before. It was stone cold, not an ounce of warmth to be found. The tension eased a little when we walked outside and there were more people to meet. Keely’s parents (they had flown in for the party), a few family members, a couple of friends, and her other three brothers—Lachlan, Declan, and Owen. There was also a man that I’d never seen before. Lachlan called him Cash Kelly, but I heard one of Keely’s uncles whisper to another uncle that his name was Cashel. Blond hair. Green eyes. An Irish lilt. His eyes were intense as they watched Keely from time to time.
News circulated around the party about our engagement, and everyone congratulated us. A few of the ladies asked to see my engagement ring and to hear the story of how Capo proposed. I was glad he’d given me a story to tell.
I tried to keep my distance from Harrison, who was quiet, watching me with a force that made me uncomfortable. It was almost like he was willing me to be alone with him. He was drinking and hardly saying a word to anyone, but I knew he wanted to talk to me. Lachlan, Declan, and Owen seemed more comfortable around Capo, even though he was being quiet himself. His eyes absorbed his surroundings, and not in the way he sometimes absorbed me. They were on guard.
The party was mostly contained to the patio. Lights had been strung up, the old garden starting to look like it did when Pops had it going, and the smell of barbecue floated in the air, along with the scent of beer. Keely and her family could drink the best of the best under the table.
Once we were there for a while, I started to relax, able to take in the state of the house. It was in good shape, like eleven years hadn’t passed. Even the mural Jocelyn and I had done in the hallway was still there. She had let me pick, and I had picked a blue butterfly to paint.
As evening came, bringing with it a sweet breeze, I noticed Keely going inside. I hadn’t had a chance to get her alone to ask her who the house belonged to. And I also wanted to ask her about Detective Stone. She had told me the day before that she had invited him, but he couldn’t make it. An emergency had come up. Some politician had gone missing and all manpower had been called in.
I excused myself from Capo’s side—he was deep in conversation with Keely’s dad and uncle—and went back into the house. I looked for Keely but couldn’t find her. Keely’s Mam was in the kitchen, and she asked me if I wouldn’t mind arranging a dessert tray and making coffee. Her sister was about to leave, and she wanted to say goodbye. I knew my way around the kitchen, and to be honest, it felt good to be back home.
Home.
Footsteps sounded on the floor, but I continued to arrange the little cakes, pies, and muffins. A second or two later, Harrison stood next to me. I looked down, trying to concentrate on what I was doing. My nails were dark, almost black, and in contrast to the white cakes, it made them stand out even more. It was something, anythi
ng, to distract me from the heat I felt coming from him. He smelled like a bar.
He stood close to me, his hip leaning against the counter. “You smell good, Strings,” he said.
“It’s new,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. He had never made me nervous before, but I could sense his disappointment, or maybe his anger toward me.
“It smells natural. Like you’re not wearing anything, but you are.”
I thought the same thing. The perfume worked like magic with my chemistry. But this was petty conversation. He was moving us along, bringing us somewhere. I didn’t like where we were headed, so I murmured, “uh huh” before turning to the coffee pot.
“You’ve changed so much. I hardly recognize you.”
“I got a job, Harrison. I’m able to afford things now.”
“New hair.” He took a strand and analyzed it. “New clothes.” He nodded toward my purple silk camisole. I had paired it with a pair of blue jeans and heels that showed a lot of toe. Since I planned on wearing a pair for the wedding, I’d been practicing. “I’d say that job pays really well, Strings.”
“It pays enough.” I finished filling the filter with coffee and set it in the pot to brew. I didn’t want to turn and look at him. The hurt in his eyes was too much. I just wanted to be the way we used to be. “I’d say your job pays really good, too. Seems like you’re doing better.”
“Keely told you I bought this place?”
I turned on him so fast that I could feel the breath of air that circulated between us. Pistachio drifted off of me. “You bought this house?”
He nodded, picking up his glass from the counter, taking another drink of whiskey. “I didn’t take you for the kind of woman to be attracted to golden things, Strings.”
“What do you mean? Golden things?”
“Golden things,” he repeated, his voice slurred some. “The man outside. Capo. The ring on your finger. Not this house. It’s a paper thing compared to what he can offer you.”
“I’d never think of this house as a paper thing,” I said, turning from him again. “This house is the only home I’ve ever known. Even if it was a paper thing, I’d still call it home.”
Only a few people could get to me. I never allowed anyone in. But Harrison could get to me because I loved him like a brother, and it was hard to pretend like everything was okay between us when it wasn’t.
“There’s a war going on,” he said, throwing me for a loop.
Maybe he was drunk off his ass. That was usually Owen, but there were a few times I’d seen Harrison drunk, too. He was usually more relaxed.
“I’ve heard about it.”
“I doubt you’ve heard about this one,” he said. “Right here. Home soil. New York.”
I turned to him again. “What are you talking about?”
He grinned at me. “Someone’s fucking with the five families. Whoever it is started a war. One family is blaming another. Territories are being crossed. Even the Irish are getting in on it. Whoever’s fucking with them killed a dangerous name in that world, too. Serious turmoil.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Maybe.” He grinned. “A little.”
“That explains a fucking lot,” I said, about to turn around again when he took me by the arm and forced me to look at him. His stare was too…much. “Why would you even care?” I rushed out. “About all of that?”
He shrugged. “I don’t. Just bringing up recent news. You work for the Faustis. I thought you should know.”
“I doubt they’d get involved. No one touches them.”
He shrugged again. “I want you to be careful.”
I tried to remove my arm from his hold. “Noted.”
Time seemed to stand still while we stared at each other. He wasn’t leaving me any room to squirm away from him. I didn’t want to cause a scene. I didn’t trust Capo. What would he do if he walked in and saw the way we were standing? I didn’t want to find out.
“Do you know why I call you Strings?” Harrison said, finally breaking the tension some. “You never asked.”
“No,” I shook my head. “I thought it was just a cute nickname.”
He laughed some, his breath fanning over my face. “Cute,” he repeated. “The first time I saw you, you tangled me up, Strings. They’re still wrapped around my heart. I want you to marry me, Mari. Live here with me. I want to take care of you. Kindness doesn’t mean you owe me anything. We can be kind to each other. That’s what a husband and wife do. Be kind to each other when they’re not tearing each other apart from too much passion. Love. It does wicked things, but it’s good. So good, too.”
“Harrison,” I said, trying to remove myself from his hold. From the situation entirely, but he wanted an answer. I wanted to run. “We’re family.”
“No,” he said. “Keely is family. You’re family because I want you to be mine. I’ve always wanted you to be mine. You know how many nights I couldn’t sleep because I was worried that something might happen to you? And you turned down every offer of help I ever offered. I’m not taking no for an answer this time, Mari. Kindness is not your enemy. Love isn’t your enemy, either. You deserve love. My love.”
“I—” I tried to move away, afraid that if I said the words, I don’t love you like that, I’d lose my entire family.
“You don’t love him, Strings.” His hold on my arm grew tighter, but he wasn’t hurting me. “You hardly know him. He’s just another rich bastard who thinks he can turn a poor girl into something he wants her to be. I love you the way you are. Kiss me, Mari. Kiss me once.”
“No,” I said, and this time, my answer was harder. He put my hands against his chest, right over his heart, and I pushed against him. “No. I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I’m getting married.”
Something made me turn, and I jumped after I did. Capo stood in the doorway, half of his body tilted toward the frame, watching us. How long had he been there? The entire time? I wouldn’t doubt it. Was he testing me? Like he’d tested those women at The Club? Would he walk out and then turn his back on me, too?
Harrison held me for a second longer before he let me go. My breath held when he stopped in front of Capo and held his stare. Capo stood like he had no issue, like he had all of the time in the world, but something about his eyes made my heart race. They seemed dangerous. Machiavellian.
“Harrison?” Keely said, coming to stand behind the two men. “Come on. Go outside and get some fresh air.”
Lachlan was right behind her, and he took Harrison by the shoulders, leading him outside, whispering things in his ear as they went.
Not wanting to cause any more trouble, I kissed Keely goodbye and we left.
* * *
As we met the last step of the house, I could hear the family in the backyard, still enjoying the party. Leaving like we did made me feel guilty, but I’d rather live with guilt than to live with something unforgivable happening between my soon-to-be husband and the only family I had left.
My concentration was on what had happened, so when Capo took me by the arms and brought me to the side of the house, pressing my back against it, I gasped. He wasn’t rough, but I knew he wasn’t messing around either.
“You love him,” he said. His eyes searched mine, digging brutally for the lie on the tip of my tongue, if there was one.
I shook my head, swallowing hard. I couldn’t tell if the ball in my throat was my heart or all of the food I’d eaten. I wasn’t afraid of him—he could’ve killed me years ago—but I was wary. Even though we had an arrangement, we still had to learn how to live with each other. The real him ran too deep, and until I could break the surface, we were left trying to figure out how to navigate our terms.
Before I could answer, he hit me with, “You knew that he was in love with you.” His tone was accusing and sharp.
“Yeah. I found out about it the night I met you at The Club.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Why should I?”
“It’s
my business,” he said.
“No. It’s my business. It happened before you.”
He grinned, but it was fucking frightening. “Anything touches you, it touches me. You get fish instead of the steak you ordered, I know about it, understand?”
“I know the terms, Capo,” I said, my voice starting to rise. He was starting to piss me off. “Again. This. Happened. Before. You.”
“There is no before me. There is no after me. You. You’re all me.”
“You can’t get pissed about this. You have no right. He feels the way he feels. I feel the way I feel. The end.”
“How do you feel, Mariposa? You never replied to your friend when she told you. You never responded to Grumpy Indiana Jones in the kitchen. You never answered me.”
I narrowed my eyes. He had read the conversation on my phone when Keely had texted me at The Club. And he’d been listening tonight. No surprise there, but suddenly, I had the insane urge to scream, you don’t own me! But he did. And I owned him. That was how the deal worked. We both set our terms and vowed to honor them.
“If I loved him that way,” I said through clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t be fucking marrying you! What do you take me for? If love was what I wanted, I wouldn’t be standing here with you! If love touched me, I’d never, ever sell it out. If love drove my life, I’d be its main chick. Ride or die, Capo. Would I sell my body to live? We both know the answer to that. Would I sell out love for the sake of this arrangement? Never! I’d die first! So, no, I do not love him in that way!”
My words seemed to stun him for a moment, though he recovered quickly. He didn’t want me to see that some part of my truth had touched him, but too bad. He wanted nothing but honesty from me, so he was going to get it. Even if it meant a dagger to his iron-clad heart. It might not nick him, but it would make a dent that would forever mark him. Mariposa was here.
Machiavellian: Gangsters of New York, Book 1 Page 13
