Bene (The Guzzi Legacy Book 5)

by Bethany-Kris

  “And you,” his father said.

  Bene looked at his dad, doing his best to ignore the fact Gian’s usual three-piece suit had been replaced by a drab, gray jail uniform that didn’t even fit him that well. “What about me?”

  “Make sure you stay out of trouble, son.”

  Right.

  What his father really wanted to say was make sure you stay away from that woman, Bene.

  He could see it in Gian’s eyes.

  “Let’s just worry about you right now, Papa.”

  That’s why they were all there.

  And Bene had never been a good liar.

  Bene and Beni lingered midway on the steps of the police station where their father was still being housed in the jail as the rest of their brothers conversed a few steps down. Corrado was apparently hitting a flight to New York to spend a day or so with Ginevra while Alessio needed to head to Vegas for something. He’d be back soon enough, he promised. Chris was heading across the city—a politician to bribe, if he could make it work.

  Marcus had to handle business.

  The world didn’t stop turning.

  It only felt like it.

  “Handle your shit, yeah?” Marcus called over his shoulder to the younger twins. Bene and Beni, still mirrors of one another even after everything, nodded in sync without prompting. “Good, and keep me updated on Ma, Beni.”

  With that said, the rest of their brothers dispersed. Bene and Beni, however, still remained on the steps of the jail until every single one of their siblings had disappeared, and it was safer for them to chat about the phone burning a hole in Bene’s pocket.

  Because of course …

  He trusted his twin more than anyone. There was no chance in hell he would do something like go behind his family’s back without telling Beni. No judgement, his brother would do whatever he needed to help him, and that was that.

  “Anything new?” Beni asked.

  Bene nodded. “Where’s your phone?”

  Saying nothing more, Beni pulled his own smartphone from his pocket. Bene’s came out, too, and he placed the phones back to back. Turning his home screen on, all he needed to do was touch the transfer data button on the settings app, and everything Vanna had sent him from random phone numbers in the last two weeks went straight to his brother’s phone. After it was all done, Beni spent a minute or two going through some of it.

  “You’re not answering her back, huh?”

  Bene swallowed hard. “What, you think I should? After what she did, you think—”

  “I think you’re in love with her, and sometimes, people we love do things that hurt us for reasons we can never understand. It teaches us about forgiveness and just how capable we are of forgiving someone else in a way nothing else can, Bene.”

  He sighed.

  His twin waited him out.

  “She’s getting married in two weeks,” he muttered.

  Beni shrugged one shoulder, as though that little detail didn’t matter to him a bit in the world. And who fucking knew, maybe it didn’t. It mattered to Bene. A lot. “Yeah, still not sure that’s because she wants to, or someone demanded it.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s still happening.”

  “And you still love her,” his brother pointed out.

  “What is your point?”

  “Well …maybe I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He couldn’t tell a bigger lie.

  He was far from fine.

  Bene’s thoughts warred with his heart. His loyalty to his family battled with the love he felt for a woman whose only intention had been to take away the things that meant the very most to him. And then he remembered her tears—the way she tried to apologize, even though he refused to let her even speak the words. He couldn’t get the image of her pain and grief out of his head when he said horrible things to her, even if they were deserved.

  Those images were burned into his mind, now. Impossible to remove, and because he couldn’t get rid of them, he was forced to think about them all the time, and what they might mean. Like the fact that yes, he absolutely believed she loved him, too.

  Yes, after her attempt to help him with whatever info she could gather and send, he believed she spoke the truth when she said she regretted the things that she had done, except it was too late. She couldn’t fix it now.

  They were doomed.

  An impossible thing.

  And he still wanted her.

  Fuck him for wanting her.

  “It’s a complicated thing,” Bene murmured, staring at the building across the street from their current position. It was far easier than staring at his brother who would see the truth in his eyes the moment he met Beni’s gaze. “And not a thing I think is worth trying to fix, if it even can be now, you know?”

  “Don’t say that. Anything is possible.”

  Bene barked out a laugh. “And what do you think would happen if after everything was said and done, I brought her home again? Oh, let’s have a do-over, Ma, meet the girl I love that helped put your husband in jail.”

  “I’d be more worried about Marcus, actually.”

  “Fuck off.”

  He laughed, though, as weak as it was because his brother wasn’t wrong. Marcus’s protective nature really came out to play lately, but especially where their family was concerned. He wasn’t fucking around anymore, and he wouldn’t hesitate to end someone if their intentions for the Guzzi family was less than innocent.

  Beni cleared his throat, glancing down at the phone in his hand. “Anyway, on this shit here … I’ll take it to Uncle Tommas and see what he can do.”

  “Don’t let him—”

  “He won’t tell Papa it came from you, or that Vanna had anything to do with it. And besides, he’s just going to pull his contacts, work some shit, and see what he can get done for the Camorra and the detective. Maybe it’ll work for what Corrado was saying in there earlier about making the detective unreliable. And hell, if we can throw in removing that Camorra clan from the equation, too, then even better.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “You gotta give the process time to work, man.”

  He would.

  It was still hard.

  “What if she doesn’t get married?” his brother asked after a moment.

  Bene’s chest ached. “They’ll still hate her.”

  “But you don’t.”

  Didn’t he?

  God knew it felt like it sometimes.

  Love.

  Hate.

  Such a fine fucking line.

  “I’m heading over to see Ma at her and Dad’s penthouse,” Beni said, “do you want to come, or—”

  “Tell her I’ll be by later.”

  His brother shot him a look. “What else do you have to do?”

  More things he shouldn’t.

  What else?

  Bene shrugged instead of answering.

  Basically, his life in a nutshell now.

  She didn’t smile.

  At all.

  In fact, Vanna constantly looked as if she was ready to kill her fiancé whenever the man was in breathing distance. Sometimes, she did well to hide it, and other times … she didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.

  Now was one of those times.

  Bene, from his position hidden in an alley across the street from a restaurant that Vanna and Mario frequented throughout the week, he watched as the two of them stood face to face in front of a running town car parked on the curb. The man driving in the car stood near the rear passenger door, ready to open it for the two when they wanted to leave, but they weren’t paying him any attention.

  Probably because they were too busy glaring.

  And their voices?

  Loud enough for him to hear.

  That was not a couple in love.

  Not in the least.

  God knew he had no business spying on these two, especially because he wasn’t doing it to help his family in their current situa
tion. No, he followed the two because a part of him still wanted to know what was happening here—why was she marrying that man, and had everything between them been a lie?

  Bene learned more than he wanted.

  More than his heart could handle.

  “What did I tell you, huh?” Mario demanded.

  Vanna stared back, unbothered. “I’m not going to be pleasant just because you tell me to fix my face, put on a dress, and go out to look pretty on your arm, Mario.”

  “You will do whatever I tell you.”

  She let out a bitter laugh.

  God.

  It hurt in Bene’s chest just to hear it, and it wasn’t even directed at him. It sounded like a mixture of desperation, anger, and more.

  “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Vanna asked.

  “That you’re going to be my wife whether you like it or—”

  “You can’t make me want you, and you won’t force me to be your fucking pet. You didn’t like the way I acted in there tonight, then too fucking bad for you. I’m not a doll for you to play with whenever you feel the goddamn need.”

  “Listen, you’ll either get in line, or you won’t like what happens when you don’t.”

  “I don’t love you!”

  “Watch your fucking tone,” Mario snarled, “before I cut the tongue right out of your mouth. We’ll see how much attitude you give me then, huh?”

  Jesus.

  He was still mad at Vanna.

  Still had things to say to her.

  Despite all that, it took every ounce of his will power to stay hidden in his spot when what he really wanted to do was cross the street and beat that man into the pavement for threatening Vanna like that. For some reason, he doubted it was the first time.

  One of many, likely.

  Even from his position in the alley across the street, Bene could still see her jaw clench. That fire in her eyes? Clear as day.

  Her pain?

  Echoing.

  “I hate you,” Vanna said loudly. “And that won’t change … not now, not after you make me walk down the aisle, and not after you force me into your bed to act as the easy hole to stick your dick into. It won’t change. I hate you.”

  Yeah, Bene learned all kinds of things.

  And it only hurt more.

  Mario’s hand struck out, his fingers catching Vanna under her jaw in a tight grip as he forced her head back so that she had to stare up at him. Bene’s hands clenched into tight balls at his sides as he willed himself not to move.

  He shouldn’t even be here.

  Shouldn’t see this happening.

  He shouldn’t care.

  This only made a complicated situation even more complex. He had so much shit he needed to say to that woman—some of them would hurt her, and others were simply the truth that needed to be said. The phone in his pocket, with her text that said I’m sorry constantly mocked him because yeah, he knew she was. He still didn’t know if it changed anything, though.

  But this?

  Knowing what he did?

  Seeing her with him?

  Well, that changed everything.

  Bene still didn’t know what it might mean. He did know that whatever it meant, he wouldn’t try to figure it out over random texts that he couldn’t even answer back. And he couldn’t have that woman at all if he couldn’t get back the things she’d helped to take from him.

  So, where did that leave this?

  And them?

  A mess.

  That’s where.

  “And yet,” he heard the man tell Vanna while he squeezed his eyes shut, “even if you hate me, you’ll still be mine to do with whatever I please. So, who’s really winning here? You should make this easier on yourself, Vanna, and give me what I—”

  “I’ll never be yours.”

  No.

  Because she was Bene’s.

  Fuck his whole life.

  There were several things Vanna didn’t want to do.

  She didn’t want to be getting married today. Not to mention in a church that wasn’t the one her father used to take her to every Sunday morning. She didn’t want to wear a dress that looked more like something straight out of a princess movie instead of something more suited to her style. She didn’t want to be promising her life to a man she could never love when she still hadn’t even been able to properly apologize to the one who still owned her fucked up, broken heart.

  And what she really didn’t want to do?

  Be bent over the toilet in her private suite, puking into the porcelain bowl while a pregnancy test on the counter told a truth she had refused to admit until now. Somehow, she managed to pull the many layers of her chiffon gown away from the toilet before her small breakfast came rising in her throat.

  A feat of fate, she was sure.

  Standing from the toilet, she quickly flushed the mess down, avoiding looking at the spinning, disgusting water as it went down. That wasn’t the only thing she pointedly ignored, either. The blinking pregnancy test with it’s flashing Pregnant on the small screen taunted her as she went about washing her hands and checked her reflection in the mirror.

  Make up still perfect.

  Dress unstained.

  Certainly nothing to say her life as she knew it was ending today, and it was all because she had brought it on herself.

  Oh, her stare was dead, for certain. In her gaze, she found nothing. No emotion, and no life. So far, she had managed to hold it together for this horrible day. How long that would last … Vanna didn’t know.

  Finally, she dropped her stare.

  The test looked back at her.

  Pregnant.

  The word flashed as fast and clearly as it had when she took the test twenty minutes ago. The test was supposed to take thirty seconds to give the positive or negative result. Like everything else in her life that seemed to be one giant joke lately, the test took all of ten seconds before the word Pregnant started to blink.

  That’s when she puked.

  When had she started to suspect?

  Vanna couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that two months ago, when Mario forced her into his home, she’d lost her freedom which meant also losing access to her doctor who handled any medication she needed. A missed appointment left her without the birth control shot that she had done religiously.

  Never failed.

  Until now.

  And then she had that moment with Bene in the restaurant bathroom. A split second of weakness where she didn’t think to say—I’m not safe. It wasn’t his fault, or hers, really. Bad decisions seemed to be par for the course with them, and this was just another one of those added onto a very high pile that was still growing every single day.

  Her period never came a month or so after missing the shot. It could take a while, the doctor had explained when she’d first starting getting it, and they were required to tell her every last detail of the birth control. She kept holding onto that—it would come.

  It didn’t.

  Her mornings went from ignoring the passing days on the calendar to attempting to hide the fact she vomited minutes after waking.

  Because God …

  If Mario even suspected she was pregnant, he would know it couldn’t possibly be his child. She’d not let him touch her once, despite his efforts. Apparently, even a monster like him could have limits because he kept his word on that.

  For now.

  Until tonight.

  And damn … what happened then?

  She stared at the pregnancy test again, remembering how quickly she had slipped into the gas station around the corner from the church to grab it while her chaperone stayed in the car, convinced she just needed some Tylenol for a headache.

  She had to know.

  Before she walked down the aisle.

  Before it all ended for her.

  She had to know.

  And now she did.

  She was pregnant with the child of a man she loved, but wh
o hated her, and she learned the news on the day she would be forced to pledge her life, body and soul, to a man who wasn’t worthy to lick the soles of her white leather heels.

  Mario would kill her.

  And her child.

  Bene hated her.

  And he didn’t know about the baby.

  How did she fix this?

  She couldn’t.

  A knock on the bathroom door had Vanna glancing up and meeting her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. Gone was that passive, dead stare. Now, she found a line of water dampening her dark eyes, threatening to ruin her composure and the perfectly applied makeup that hid the bruises on her throat and her skin that didn’t quite gleam the same way it used to.

  “Yeah?” Vanna asked.

  “Are you okay in there?”

  She wished it was someone she cared about behind the door, waiting for her to finish helping her ready for her wedding. Her mother … God, her father, even. She still loved her father; she always would, and she wished he was here to help her get through this awful day if she couldn’t, at least, have what she wanted.

  Someone who loved her.

  She wished this day was for her and someone else.

  She wished so many things.

  Things that could never be.

  Sorry, Daddy, she thought, sorry that I couldn’t do what you wanted me to. Sorry that I wasn’t who you wanted me to be. I’m sorry your vendetta couldn’t be mine.

  Because that was the thing, right?

  This vendetta had never really been hers.

  And look where it led her.

  Her gaze found the bouquet of white roses that she’d managed to toss on the side of the counter before throwing up her breakfast, and the string of rosary beads that twisted around the stems covered in white silk.

  Her father’s rosary.

  One of the only things she had left.

  She understood now that undoubtedly, her father’s choices and beliefs about a man and a family he thought wronged him was likely the making of his own blood. His father did that with his mistreatment, and constant rejection of Adam. He’d believed that if only he could convince his father he was worthy, and not the bastard he’d been told he was his whole life, then he and Gabriel would be better.