Black

by K. L. Grayson

  “I understand,” she whispers. “I know why you were hesitant to tell me. I get it.”

  “Trust me, you don’t understand,” I whisper.

  How could she? Unless you live this life, you’ll never fully understand it.

  “Yes, I do,” she insists, pulling out of my arms.

  Frustrated at her insistence, at the situation, at myself, I grab the bottle of water from the table, and drain half of it in one drink.

  “You might think you do, but you don’t.”

  Her eyes widen. “Don’t tell me what I understand and what I don’t understand. The Blacks may not have been part of an organized crime family, but they were rotten. So yes, I get why you wouldn’t want to let someone in on that part of your life.”

  “The Blacks have nothing on my father.”

  I regret the words as soon as they fall from my mouth. Shae gasps, pushing up from the couch, and I feel the pain in her gaze like a punch to the gut. I hate that I’m the one who put it there.

  “I didn’t mean that. The way they treated you was shit, baby, and I wasn’t trying to minimalize that.”

  Shae draws in a shaky breath but doesn’t respond.

  Damn it.

  None of this is going the way I had hoped, and all I’m doing is digging myself a deeper hole.

  “Fuck,” I growl, rubbing my hands over my face. “I keep fucking up with you. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Shae studies me for several moments before putting me out of my misery. “It’s okay. You’re upset. This whole situation isn’t ideal. I get that.”

  That’s an understatement. “Where do we go from here? This is my life, Shae. It’s the life I was born into. Sal Ambrosi is my father, and I can’t change that. I can’t change my past.”

  Her eyes soften, the slightest chink her armor, and I’ll take it.

  “But you can change your future,” she says. “You get to pick the sort of man you want to be. We’re not destined to be our parents, Rex, and if anyone understands that concept, it’s me.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “I know you are,” she whispers, grabbing my hand.

  When her skin touches mine, a sense of warmth rushes over me. I squeeze her fingers tight, afraid of losing the feeling.

  “I’m in this,” she says. “If you’re willing to play this out and see where it takes us, so am I.”

  “Most people would think you’re crazy for wanting to be with someone like me.”

  Shae takes a deep breath, and when she lets it out, her words nearly bring me to my knees.

  “I don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks. I only care what I think.” She gives me a sexy little grin. “And I sorta care what you think. Plus, if you remember, I told you I might very well be batshit crazy. Besides, you and I aren’t so different.”

  Shaking my head, I grab her wrist and bring her to my lap. With a knee pressed to either side of my hips, she straddles me, her hands resting on my chest.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m sure as shit not questioning it, and no way in hell am I letting you go.”

  She drops her forehead to mine. “Promise.”

  “Promise.”

  “Are you sure I look okay?” I rub my hands down the front of my dress, wondering if I should’ve worn something else.

  “For the hundredth time, you look stunning, and my mother is going to love you.”

  “Your mother,” I breathe. I’m going to meet his mother. “And you’re sure your dad isn’t going to be here? Not that I don’t want to meet your dad,” I explain. “I’m just not sure I’m ready for that.”

  The other night when Rex dropped the bomb about his father, I couldn’t even be upset. It was easy for me to tell him I understood, because I truly do understand. He doesn’t know how alike we are.

  The real fear for me came because I don’t know what sort of connection Sal had to my father, and whether or not he would recognize me. I tried to remember if I’d ever heard his name, but I kept drawing a blank.

  I have no reason to believe he would recognize me. I’ve been gone from the area for almost fifteen years, but you just never know. It crossed my mind to come clean to Rex, tell him who I am. Bianca DiMarco. But then I remembered Bianca DiMarco was a witness to her father’s murder, and right now I can’t take the chance of anyone finding that out.

  “I promise you, he won’t be here. He’s in Florida for business.” Taking my hands in his, Rex leans down and gives me a reassuring kiss. “Relax, baby. My mother is going to love you, and she’s probably the sweetest person you’ll ever meet.”

  I doubt that. My mother is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.

  “Okay.” I blow out a breath and nod. “Let’s do this.”

  Laughing, Rex rings the doorbell, and a moment later the front door swings open.

  “About time you two showed up,” Dante says, shutting the door behind us. “Shae, you look beautiful as always.”

  I shoot Dante a wink. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Get your own fucking girl,” Rex says, playfully shoving his brother. “Where’s Mom?”

  “I heard that,” a woman yells from the other room. “Why do I feel like I’m constantly telling you boys to watch your language?” she asks as she walks around the corner, a dish towel flung over her shoulder.

  Her dark brown eyes catch mine, and for a split second I swear I see her breath hitch and her step falter, but she covers herself well, plastering on a welcoming smile and heading straight toward me.

  “And you must be Shae,” she says, drawing me into a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I look up at Rex, and he just smiles.

  “All good things, I hope.”

  “Of course, darling.” She pulls back, holding on to my upper arms. “So beautiful. Welcome.”

  “Thank you. And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Rex speaks very highly of you.”

  She offers Rex a warm smile. “My boys are too good to me.”

  “When will dinner be ready?” Dante asks.

  She steps back. “Always hungry. These two nearly ate me out of house and home when they were growing up. Come on, I just pulled the chicken out of the oven.”

  Dante follows his mother, and Rex and I lag behind.

  “See? I told you you’d do great,” he whispers.

  “You were right.”

  He leans in close. “What was that?”

  “I said you were right.”

  “I still didn’t hear you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I push past him as he laughs.

  My mouth waters as soon as we hit the kitchen. “This smells fantastic.”

  “Thank you.” Rex’s mom sets a large dish in the middle of the table. “Baked chicken with a mushroom and provel cheese sauce and green beans.”

  “I think I gained a pound just staring at it.”

  “Wait until you taste it. Rex, would you grab a bottle of wine from the refrigerator?”

  “What can I do?” I ask.

  “Nothing, dear. You are our guest. Please, have a seat.”

  Rex pours each of us a glass of wine, stopping to kiss my cheek as he passes by. When I blink up at him, I catch a glimpse of his mom watching us, but she quickly turns away.

  “I hope your mom likes me,” I whisper.

  “She loves you. I can already tell.” Rex drops another kiss to my forehead before corking the wine and placing it back in the refrigerator.

  Once we’re all settled, we say a quick prayer and dig into the food.

  We fall into easy conversation. Rex’s mother asks me a few surface questions about how I’m liking Chicago and working for Josalyn, but that’s it. She spends the rest of the time telling me stories about Dante and Rex growing up. By the time we’re done eating dinner, I’m certain I’ve got a few embarrassing stories I can hang over each of their heads if ne
eded, and Mrs. Ambrosi has even offered to get me pictures to back them up.

  “You’re evil,” Dante says, grabbing his empty plate, along with his mother’s, and walking them to the sink.

  “Us girls have to stick together. Isn’t that right, Shae?”

  “Absolutely.” I wipe my mouth and set the napkin on the table.

  “You done, baby?” Rex asks.

  “I couldn’t eat another bite if I tried. I’m stuffed. The meal was delicious, Mrs. Ambrosi.”

  Her beautiful face lights up, and now I see where Rex gets it. He has her smile and her beautiful eyes. “Please, call me Isabella.”

  “Call her Isa,” Dante says, sitting back down at the table. “That’s what everyone else calls her.” Bending down, he places a kiss on her cheek, but his mother’s wide eyes are locked on mine.

  “Isa,” I say, rolling the name around on my tongue. Not Isa with a long I, but with a long E.

  Oh, God.

  No.

  My body stiffens as everything drops into place, and I can see it on Isabella’s face. She knows I know, and thanks to her son no less, who called her by her nickname. Otherwise I’m not sure I would’ve put two and two together as quickly—if at all.

  I suck in a sharp breath as my stomach rolls.

  Isa’s lips tighten, her eyes silently pleading with me to keep my mouth shut, which is fine because if I open it there’s a good chance I’ll throw up.

  Isa is Rex’s mother.

  The words from the letter play over and over in my head.

  My dearest Isa,

  Time has not been our friend, neither has fate. But you have my love, always, as does our son. Please give me more time. I know you’re anxious to get this over with, as am I, but please let me do this the right way. I hate the way things have unraveled but right now I must think of your safety as well as the safety of my children.

  Love Always,

  Luca

  Our son.

  Our son.

  Our son.

  Oh my gosh, Rex is Isa’s son.

  My head swivels toward Rex as I search his face for pieces of my father.

  Pieces of me.

  “Shae.” Brows dipped low, Rex places a hand on my mine, and I pull my arm back. “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head because I still can’t find words, and he reaches for me again.

  “Shae, you’re scaring me.”

  “Rex, sweetheart,” Isa says. “Why don’t you get Shae a glass of water.”

  Sweetheart.

  Sweetheart.

  Sweetheart.

  She’s his mother.

  Which means he’s my brother.

  Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.

  “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Rex points down the hall. My stomach dips and turns like a rollercoaster, and before he can verbally respond, I fly up from my chair and run.

  Flinging the door open, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet. The tile is cool against my heated skin, and I lean forward as my stomach heaves, expelling my dinner.

  A dinner I had with my brother right after I fucked him.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the thought from my head.

  I fucked my brother.

  My stomach heaves again, this time bringing with it a wave of tears, and I choke back a sob.

  The bathroom door flies open, and a delicate hand lands on my back. I don’t know whether to be relieved or pissed that it’s Isabella and not Rex, but right now I’m facing the lesser of two evils, because how in the world am I supposed to look Rex in the eye again?

  “Don’t touch me,” I cry, and she pulls her hand back as though I might bite her. A second later a cool, wet cloth wraps around my neck.

  “Shae, I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling well.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Cut the shit, Isabella.”

  Her lips pinch together in a thin line. She watches me for a moment, as if she’s trying to read my mind.

  “I know it was you. You sent me that letter. You had an affair with my dad”—and the very worst part—“and he’s my fucking brother!”

  She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I know this is a shock for you. We have so many things to talk about, and we will talk about them, but right now I need you to hold yourself together because Dante is out there—”

  “Hold myself together?” I yell.

  Isa’s eyes dart toward the door, and she places a finger over her lips. “Please. Please, Shae, keep your voice down. This is not how I wanted you or my boys to find out.”

  “Tell me how the hell I’m supposed to keep myself together,” I whisper-hiss, “when I’ve been fucking my brother!”

  She jumps back. “You’ve slept with Dante?”

  “What? No!”

  “Oh, Shae,” she says softly. “No. No, sweetheart, you haven’t slept with your brother. Rex is not your brother.”

  “He’s not?”

  My stomach twists again, but this time I don’t have the urge to throw up.

  “It’s Dante,” she whispers. “Dante is your brother.”

  Oh, thank God.

  My body sags in relief and happiness and grief as the weight of her words descends on my shoulders. My eyes shoot to the bathroom door. Dante is my brother. My flesh and blood. My living, breathing relative, and he’s right out there.

  Everything I’ve longed for and dreamed of is right behind that door—and I’m not just talking about my brother.

  “You can’t tell him,” she whispers.

  “What do you mean I can’t tell him? Of course I’m going to tell him. He’s my brother. He’s a part of me and a part of my father.”

  Then, in a flash, all the tiny things about Dante I’ve noticed over the past few weeks snap into place—the sidelong glance he gave me that reminded me of my father, his loud, boisterous laugh and over-the-top personality. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.

  “I know this is shocking and scary and probably a little exciting for you. But please, please think of my boys. This will devastate them. This will tear my family apart.”

  “But isn’t that what you wanted?” I ask, remembering my father’s words to her. “You wanted Dante to know my father was his father.”

  She nods. “You’re right. I did. But that was before your father’s death. I can’t fight my husband on my own. If he finds out Dante isn’t his son, he’ll have me killed, and I don’t even want to think about what he’ll do to Dante.”

  “You were willing to risk that fourteen years ago.”

  “I loved your father, Shae. I would’ve done anything to be with him—”

  “Does that include killing my mother?” I’m slightly pacified by the look of horror on her face.

  “No. Absolutely not. I would never do that to your mother. Elena was a wonderful woman.”

  “But you slept with her husband.”

  Her eyes drop to the floor. “I’m not proud of what I did.”

  “Then why do it?” I yell.

  Her eyes find the door again, and I take a deep breath. If I want her to keep talking, I have to stay calm.

  “Why did you sleep with my father when he was happily married to my mother?”

  “Because he wasn’t happily married,” she says nervously. “They went through a rough patch after Camilla was born, and I hated my husband. I hated the way he treated me, and I hated the way he treated Rex.”

  She shakes her head. “Your father and I grew up together. We were neighbors. He was my best friend, and at one time I thought I would marry him. But that’s not how this life works. I was promised to Sal, and I had no choice in the matter. Your father and I eventually went our separate ways. He married your mother, and I lived in a proverbial hell for years until one day…”

  Her words trail off, and I wait with bated breath.

  A loud knock sounds on the door, followed by someone jiggling the handle. Thank God she had the sense to lock it when she followed me in because I�
��m not sure what Rex and Dante would think if they walked in right now. And I can’t promise I’d keep my mouth shut.

  “Give me a second,” I holler, trying to pacify Rex because I know in another minute he’ll be knocking down the door just to make sure I’m okay.

  “Shae, baby, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

  “Okay.” He pauses, probably trying to decide whether or not to barge in anyway. I breathe a sigh of relief when he says, “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

  “Rex, sweetheart, could you and Dante run and get Shae some Pepto?”

  He huffs from the other side of the door, clearly not wanting to leave while I’m still in here. Finally, he concedes. “I’ll be right back.”

  When I turn back to Isabella, she has tears running down her cheeks, but I try my hardest not to let them affect me.

  “Until one day what?” I ask, needing her to finish the story.

  She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “One day I ran into your father at the country club. We had lunch, which was incredibly risky. I was the wife of a boss, having lunch with another boss. But I knew he was upset—I could see it on his face—and no way was I walking away from him that day. Anyway, we had lunch, and he told me that Elena was asking for a divorce. He was devastated—”

  “I don’t remember that,” I say, trying to remember a time when my parents didn’t live together.

  “You wouldn’t. You weren’t alive yet.”

  Oh.

  “Your mother took Camilla and moved in with her parents. She filed for legal separation, something you don’t just do in this life—not without a damn good reason and a million repercussions.”

  I don’t need her to explain what this life is. It’s the mafia. They live and breathe by their own set of rules, and if you act outside them, it could mean your life.

  “After that, your father and I started talking in secret. We would meet up when we could, and I promise you, at first it was innocent. We were old friends who could confide in each other. He listened to me cry about Sal, and I listened to him talk about Elena. As time passed, we grew closer, and one night…”

  She clears her throat. “I’ll spare you the details, but one night we were intimate, and that’s when I got pregnant with Dante. By that time, he and your mother had been separated for over a year, and there were rumors that your father’s family had put a hit out on Elena. There’s no way they were going to let her walk away from your father—from them. She knew too much, and they didn’t trust her.”