by Lux Miller
“His father beat the shit out of him and shipped him off to military school. My father pretended I didn’t exist. He kept what had happened from Luca, and without a lawyer and without money, I went to Juvenile prison for fifteen months for solicitation and drug paraphernalia charges.
“My father wrote me off as a lost cause, but Luca didn’t. It didn’t take him long to find out what was happening. He’s the one who funded my account while I was inside. He’s the one who assured I went through proper rehabilitation both inside and when I got out. And he’s the one who let me move in with him, despite my fuckups.
“I also suspect that my glorious downfall was the nail in the coffin of Luca’s hatred of the drug trade. He already hated them with the power of a thousand suns, but he wasn’t about to let them take someone else he loved.”
Dante stops suddenly, clearing his throat like he just said something he shouldn’t have. He quickly changes gears and continues, “He dedicated his life to eradicating the scourge of narcotics from the streets of New Orleans. He has a particular vendetta against the dealers who made what happened to me and countless other stupid kids possible. It was kept hush-hush in the family, so you now know more than over half the men sworn in service to Luca.
“The woman who got me hooked on Coke turned up dead mysteriously. Luca swears to this day that he didn’t have anything to do with it, but I suspect he was responsible. If not directly, he had the authority to call a hit. By that time, Luca’d been initiated as the consigliere of the family. The family’s counselor and arguably the most powerful position aside from the Don himself. In some circles, he’s considered more powerful than our father ever was.
“So, as you see… I don’t hate what God has created, but for obvious reasons, it’s best for me to avoid that lifestyle for myself. I’ve been clean for over ten years now, but the temptation will always be there. I don’t ever want to fall down that rabbit hole again, but it’s so easy to trip if you’re not careful.”
I nod in understanding, a bit flabbergasted by Dante’s confession. I offer him a small smile and grab both of his hands, squeezing them. “Your secrets are safe with me, Dante. And it appears that despite his asshole reputation, Luca saved us both from the demons of New Orleans. Do we have time for me to get something?”
Jericho is finishing up with applying bandages to Dante’s back where he’s inked a large portion of the design. He pulls his headphones off and motions to the chair as Dante gets up. “As long as I don’t have to tattoo a butterfly on your lower back. I don’t dig the whole tramp stamp look.”
I giggle and shake my head as I push my leggings down to my knees, then sit down on the chair with my back pressed up against it’s faux leather surface. “Nah, I can be a little more original than that.”
I hand him a piece of paper with a doodled design on it. He looks it over, then cocks his head sideways as he looks at me. “This isn’t one of mine. Where’d you get it?”
I shrug and tap my temple with a smile. “I sketched it out earlier before I fell asleep. Can you do it?”
Jericho nods. “Yeah, I can do it right quick. Maybe thirty minutes since it’s small. Where you want it?”
I glance over at Dante for a moment, then back to Jericho. I push my panties down off my hip to expose the stretch of skin covering my hipbone. “This is one of Luca’s favorite spots on my body... could you do it here?”
Jericho exhales a shaky breath. “Is your brother gonna kill me for touching her there to put this tattoo on her?”
Dante shrugs. “I don’t know, man. To be honest, he’s a bit of a loose cannon when it comes to her. Damn near broke my jaw, because I kissed her. Fired a driver, because he talked about wanting to fuck her.”
Jericho’s eyes widen and he glances down at my bared skin, then up at my face. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”
Rolling my eyes, I cut them over at Dante. “Shut up, Dante. Luca won’t hurt anyone over this. It’s my body, not his, and I can put anything I want on it. Please, Jericho, ink me.”
He steps out of the room for a minute and returns with a stencil of my design, which he transfers to my skin. I smile down at the image and relax as I close my eyes and try to picture the finished design. Dante reaches out and grabs my hand as Jericho begins working on the tattoo. He shakes his head and sighs, “Did you purposefully interweave the exact same tribal moon from Luca’s tattoo into your design?”
I nod slowly as I wince. The pain is sharp, and it radiates through my entire lower half, but I somehow manage to stay still as I squeeze the crap out of Dante’s hand. “I did, but it holds meaning for me too… the moon is the crescent moon and it represents New Orleans. The star is a hibiscus flower and it represents where I came from. It’s a reminder that no matter where I end up, Hilo and New Orleans will be always be my origins. No matter what kind of devastation happened there, they are a part of me… both figuratively and now, literally…”
SEVENTEEN
It’s nearing six in the evening by the time Dante and I stroll back into the house, trying to stay under the radar and avoid the impending questions about where we’ve been all afternoon. The moment the front door closes behind us, we turn to look at each other and grimace. Raised voices waft down the stairs from somewhere on the second level. From the sound of things, there’s a considerable amount of arguing happening up there, and while I can faintly hear Luca’s voice, my ears focus on the two female voices that are sniping back and forth at each other. I shake my head quickly at Dante and murmur, “I think we’d better get out of here before—”
Before I can fully turn around to reach for the door handle, I hear Bianca’s pleading voice from the top of the stairs. “Oh, thank God. I thought you’d never get back. It’s been chaos here for the last hour. Dante, for the sake of this family, please deal with your brother. He’s locked himself in that room and is refusing to come out. I don’t know what he’s doing in there, but I’ve heard things breaking. He won’t answer me any longer, and even if I could break down the door, he’s raging in there like a pissed-off bull.”
Beside me, Dante deflates as his shoulders slump slightly. He heaves a heavy sigh and nods as he looks up at his mother. “Of course, Momma.” He gives me a sideways look, and it almost looks like fear swirling in his green eyes. He stomps around me and disappears down the hallway that leads to the one room in the estate that I’m not allowed to go into. I cringe at the loud crashing sound that comes from somewhere down the hall. Bianca wasn’t kidding when she said that Luca was angry.
I take another step toward the door, but freeze when I hear a soft pleading in Bianca’s voice, “Emily…” Freezing once more, I glance over my shoulder and up the stairs at her. She looks harried . Since Matteo’s death, she’s ignored the glamorous public expectation of a mafia wife. Instead, she’s chosen largely to wear all-black ensembles with her midnight black hair loose in waves. It’s a far cry from the dark beauty she emanated at Christmas, but she’s no less beautiful — or intimidating.
I swallow and turn around completely to face her, casting my eyes to the floor. “Yes, ma’am?” The yelling from down the hallway gets louder as I hear the door open, then slam shut again. Several moments of tense silence pass, then I feel a hand on my arm that makes me jump. My head jerks up and I find myself eye-to-eye with the mafia matriarch. My heart thunders in my chest as I open my mouth to try to say something else.
Bianca shakes her head and gently places her outstretched index finger against her lips with a smile. “Emily, we’ve been through this. Please call me Bianca. Ma’am sounds so… stuffy and proper. I assure you I am neither. I’m simply a widow trying to navigate her new circumstances.” I nod tersely as I stand there, glued to the spot.
She pats my arm softly. “Relax, girl. I have nothing but admiration for you. You’ve done the one thing no woman has ever been able to do to my sons, both of them.”
I swallow and shake my head quickly, a look of horrified disgust on my face. She chuckles
softly and pulls me into a hug. My entire body tenses up as she wraps her arms around me and tugs me tightly against her body. “First of all, Emily… you know men are idiots. I don’t believe for a second that you are two-timing Luca with Dante. Second, you wouldn’t have the time. I know I pretend to be oblivious to what goes on in this house, but I’m far from it.
“Luca barely lets you out of his sight and even then, he keeps you under guard. The fact that his men think you’re also sleeping with Dante is pitiful, but not unexpected given their past indiscretions. They’re men with money, after all. I suspect his men are hopeful that you’d dare to step out on Luca, because they still believe he’s playing the fame game and that he’s going to toss you to the wolves when he’s finished. I can assure you, Emily, if you haven’t already figured it out, he isn’t. My son is smitten with you.”
I nod nervously and she releases her vise grip on me. “What you’ve done for my sons is remind them of their humanity. It’s always been there, but both of them have tried to shut it off. It’s a necessary quality to be able to be who they need to be. But they also need to be human sometimes. To feel, to hurt…” She tilts my chin up until our eyes meet. “...to love. You’ve given that to both of them.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she shakes her head at me and places her index finger against my lips. “Hear me out. I loved my husband. After thirty years of marriage, it would be impossible not to, but I never looked at him the way that Luca looks at you. And yes, Emily… Dante loves you too. You don’t have to be in love with someone to love them.
“Matteo and I were a perfect example of this. We had a deep respect for one another, and Matteo would have laid down his life to protect mine, but in the end, we held each other’s hands, not each other’s hearts. It is much the same for Dante and you. You give Dante something that he’s never had - a friend who accepts him, despite his destiny not because of it.”
I shut my mouth and nod, understanding what she’s saying. I have felt the gravitational pull to Dante. There’s something that cosmically links us, but it’s different than what I feel for Luca. I’ve never felt compelled to be with Dante, but being with him has a calming effect on me when my world is upside-down and chaotic. Especially his hugs. There’s something about Dante hugging me that makes every tightly-wound nerve in my body relax, if only for a moment.
I narrow my eyes at Bianca as she smirks at me knowingly. She jerks her head towards the stairs and levels her gaze at me. “Do you have another miracle you can pull out of a hat?”
When I continue to stare at her blankly, she elaborates. “Noemi is being positively impossible.”
I reanimate my face and raise one eyebrow. “Is that what the two of you were screaming about when Dante and I came in?”
Bianca tilts her head to the side. “You mean when you snuck in, hoping nobody would notice that the two of you were gone for six hours while everything here went to hell in a handbasket?”
Blushing slightly, I nod helplessly. No sense in denying the truth. Bianca gives me a careful nod and glances up the stairs. I can hear footsteps stomping back and forth across the hallway. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “So are we talking full on World War Three?”
Bianca just stares at me knowingly. “She’s upset because most of her things are still at the old house. A house to which Luca has forbade us to go. She’s positively freaking out over the fact that she has nothing to wear. She’s seventeen. Her personal appearance is everything to her and with first Matteo and now Luca taking everything away from her that made her feel normal, she’s lashing out in the worst way.”
I nod slowly as I listen to Bianca speak. I clear my throat and swallow the lump in my throat. I know the horrifying feeling of having everything ripped out from under you all too well. I was a bit younger than Noemi was when my world crashed down around me, but no amount of maturity prepares you for living life in a cage.
“Can you talk to her? I don’t know your full story, but from what I understand, you went through something similar? She’s so angry right now that she isn’t allowing herself to grieve. I know that Matteo had his faults. He was a terrible father to Luca and Dante. He always treated them like associates and it did some irreversible damage to them, but he wasn’t that way with Noemi.
“Noemi was everything the boys couldn’t be for him - a child he could let his guard down around. There was no chance that she’d ever be eligible to take his place in la famiglia, so he was able to love her in a way that he never allowed himself to love Luca or Dante. He gave Noemi the world, but when that same world came after her, he locked her away like a priceless jewel.
“She resented Matteo for that, but now that he’s gone, she’s turned her resentment into hatred for Luca and Dante. She knows one of them was responsible for his death, and Luca has allowed her to believe that it was him. She cannot truly grieve her father until she forgives her brothers. Please speak with her.”
I hold both hands up in a helpless gesture of defeat. “She’s not exactly my biggest fan, either. I’m fairly sure she wouldn’t care if I disappeared for good.”
Bianca sighs and nods. “Okay, I’ll figure something else out—”
I shake my head and grab hold of both of Bianca’s hands. “No, I’ll talk to her. I can’t make any promises, though.”
Bianca exhales slowly, squeezing my hands with a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks relieved as I walk past her and slowly trudge up the stairs. The arguing downstairs has mostly faded, but it’s been replaced by the frustrating screams of a teenage girl and slamming doors.
I approach the bedroom door slowly. It takes me three tries before I manage to actually knock on her door. The screeching stops, but nobody answers the door. “Come on Noemi, you have to come out eventually.”
My half-hearted plea is met with a loud thud as something crashes into the door. Nodding silently to myself, I realize that this is going to take a lot more effort than I even I expected. I knock again, trying to maintain my composure.
Several moments of complete silence follow my knock, then Noemi’s voice shatters that silence with a hellish scream. “Go away, homewrecker! This room has always been mine, and I won’t give it back!”
I turn my back to the door and lean back against it, choosing to ignore her outburst. Her words are mean, but from the sounds of it, she’s in the middle of a temper tantrum, and she isn’t doing a very good job of controlling her emotions. I understand her. I didn’t take it too well when my father died either, but I didn’t have to deal with feeling abandoned by my brothers. The only people who’d ever loved me weren’t dead to me… they were dead.
There’s more rustling inside the room, but when I don’t respond to her, Noemi’s taunts get vicious, “Leave me alone! You know my brother is only with you because you’re easy! He just wanted to get laid!”
I close my eyes and inhale a slow, deep breath. I know that reacting will only validate her behavior. Right now, my best course of action is ignoring her outburst. The storm will pass eventually. I just hope it does before Mass tonight, because Bianca is adamant in having her children attend for their ashes.
With the sudden silence in the hallway, I can hear the arguing downstairs faintly. Dante and Luca’s voices are both strained as they heatedly discuss something. I close my eyes and yawn softly as my hand wanders to the place on my hip that’s now sore with the addition of my own ink. I lower the waistband of my leggings just enough to see the edge of the gauze bandage peeking out over the top of my panties. Luca is going to freak out when he sees it.
I don’t know if he’s going to love it or hate it, but he’s definitely going to notice it. There’s no way I’ll be able to hide it from him. As I sit there and lament the predicament I’m in, I remember one of the few possessions I brought with me when Luca forcibly removed me from Piacere and Andre’s care.
I push off the door and walk to mine and Luca’s shared room. I slip inside and walk over to the bedside table w
here I stowed the trinket that I’m thinking of. I push and slide various papers around inside the drawer until my eyes land on the tiny gilded birdcage pendant. I snatch it up into my hands and run my fingers over it gently. It’s nothing fancy. It’s probably not even real, but it was one of the few things that was ever truly mine.
Closing my fist around it, I dash back into the hallway and approach Noemi’s door apprehensively. I raise my hand to knock on the door, but stop myself just before my fist connects with the painted wood. Instead, I turn my back to the door and slowly slide down it into a seated position on the floor.
Sighing, I let my head fall back against the door. The thudding sound it makes as it connects with the wood is soft, but it echoes around me in the silence. I hear an answering sound that’s almost exactly the same and I realize that my moment has come. There is a calm in the storm and if I don’t seize this opportunity, I may not get another one.
