Covet (Beautiful Sinner Series Book 2)

by Elena M. Reyes

  “Then why?”

  “Because Aurora is mine.” My tone leaves no room for argument. End of.

  “Shouldn’t you be asking me—”

  “For shit.” My voice is even, but the threat hangs in the air. I’m not a child and I ask permission from no one but Gem. Hers is the only one I need. “What happens between us is just that...between us. My relationship is with Aurora, and I will never ask nor apologize for being with her.”

  “And if I forbid this?” He’s toying with me now—testing—and doing a shit job at it; the smile he’s fighting back isn’t helping his case. To him, this would play out perfectly in his desire for her to take over, and I could be the man to guide and stand with her.

  Problem with this is he just doesn’t realize how much of a wall I can be.

  “Your approval isn’t needed or wanted.”

  Matteo doesn’t like my reply and his eyes narrow. “You have balls, Casper. This isn’t England.”

  “I do, and I’m not afraid. Trust me when I tell you my connections run deeper than yours.”

  “Is that a threat?” he spits out through clenching teeth; hands are on the armrests and placed strategically to launch himself forward if need be.

  “That’s a fact.” I shrug and then sit back to show I’m not at all intimidated. “Now, to get back on track. Nico, Antonella, and Giada Savino set things in motion to make it look like you were involved and responsible for the stolen shipment...hoping I would link you to my mum’s death and retaliate. But like all rubbish, the stink comes to the top and people talk. It’s how I found out about these three, the others involved, and disposed of a few.”

  “We’re not done talking about my daughter.”

  “My intentions are clear, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “We’ll deal with that later.” Matteo rubs a hand down his face, spitting out a few curses in Italian under his breath. Once he regains his composure, he looks at me again and this time all amusement is gone. The man looking at me now is the one people fear in Boston. “How do I find these assholes?”

  “We find,” I correct, and he nods, accepting my position in this. “Do those names ring a bell? Any of the three?”

  “No. Not at all,” he says, standing from his seat and walking over to the windows where he just looks out. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move a muscle. Just stares until there’s a knock at the door. It’s timid and stops after three taps. “Come in.”

  The door opens and his secretary’s head pops in, a woman in her early forties that looks afraid of her own shadow. “I’m so sorry for interrupting, sir. Mrs. Cancio is on line one and demands you take the call.”

  He doesn’t turn around to address her. “No worries, Lisa. Pass her through.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Once the door closes, he releases a rough exhale. “Will you protect my daughter before your own life?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will she be taken care of and respected?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.” Matteo turns around at my reply, but before the man can utter a single syllable, I shake my head. “When I say the words, they will be to her. Not you. Not anyone. Just her.”

  “I can respect that.”

  “Good.” Standing from my seat, I fix my cuff links. “Answer your call, and we’ll finish this conversation at a later time. For now, you have my mobile’s number and can reach me if needed. Watch your back, Matteo, and keep this information to yourself. You don’t know if they have help on the inside.”

  “Even Dominic? I trust him and as my second—”

  “Especially not him. There’s something about the wanker that doesn’t sit well with me, and if he ever so much as breathes wrong in her direction again, he’s a dead man. A message I will be delivering personally once I leave this office.”

  “I can’t allow that.”

  “Yes, you will.” I crack my neck to alleviate a bit of the tension there. “For this meeting I gave you the courtesy of no guns and none of my men entered this floor. As a matter of fact, I left them downstairs waiting for me with strict instructions on how to proceed if things became unpleasant between us. Now, it’s your turn to play nice. Where is he?”

  “Just to have words.”

  “I’m going to kindly explain a few things.”

  He lets out a sigh but relents. Not that he has much of a choice. “Opposite end of the floor, only door on that wall.”

  “Thank you, and don’t forget that your ex-wife’s call is on line one.”

  To Dominic’s shitty luck, he’s not in his office when I seek him out, but I do find him a little later entering the building as I exit.

  His eyes are down and oblivious to my persona as he tries to slip into my slot in the large revolving door. He’s a bloody fucking idiot and it’s time he learns a bit of respect.

  “The fuck?” he yells the second my shoulder slams into him, sending him back onto the concrete outside the Cancio building. His phone, the one he was so lost in, goes flying toward the street and I see Callum walk toward it while a few of Cancio’s guards take their positions.

  No guns are drawn. Not while we’re out in public like this.

  Archie stands to my right with Jeffrey and a minute later Callum does as well.

  I don’t touch the idiot, but I do stand above him. “Get up.”

  There’s a flash of fear in his eyes, but he hides it behind a sneer. “Touch me again, Jameson, and it’ll be the last thing that you do.” Those are the wrong words to tell a man like me, something he learns a second later when I place my foot on his neck. Not to choke, but to prove a point. He’s still a nobody. Will never be on the same level as me. “You have five seconds to remove it and leave. Matteo will see this as an act of—”

  “Matteo gave me his blessing to deliver a message personally.” At this, his features harden and the hand trying to push my foot off clenches. So I do him the favor, removing it only so I can yank him up by the hand and help the tosser stand to his full height. Dominic tries to distance himself but I don’t let go, and the next time he tries to forcefully do so, I take my karambit out and flip it open while stepping into his personal space so to everyone passing by, it looks like I’m giving him a friendly hug. With my lips at his ear, I bring the blade to his neck—enjoying how hard he swallows when he feels the sharp steel—and let out a chuckle. “If you come near Aurora again, I will find out and I will kill you. Make no mistake, Dominic, she is mine and this is the only warning I will give you as the second-in-command for the Cancio family. Don’t force my hand. Back down and learn your place.”

  Then, I step back as if nothing has happened. I even pat him on the back and wish them all a nice afternoon.

  I’m done in Boston, and I have a girl to go see.

  Why are you in Boston? ~Aurora

  Why didn’t you tell me you were back? ~Aurora

  You know what, never mind. I don’t like to chase people. ~Aurora

  Those three messages came in two hours apart and I made the mistake of not calling her back like I promised I always would. I bodged up. Not going to deny it, but I wasn’t in a good place and never want her to see me like that.

  Maybe it was everything that’s happened over the last few days catching up to me, or my talk with her father, or even the four pints I had with dinner, but I let myself mourn my mum. I said goodbye in my own way and privately without anyone there to witness my grief.

  Her killer has paid his price for taking her life, and I said my goodbyes.

  Now, though, as I dial her number forty-eight hours later and find a recording telling me that the number you’ve dialed has been disconnected, I realize my mistake. Taking the time to myself isn’t the problem. Not at all. All I had to do is tell her to give me a moment and that I would get back to her.

  Aurora is tired of waiting for me.

  Aurora misses me.

  My Gem needs
me the same way I crave her constantly.

  “You’re in a shit mood tonight, mate. What gives?” Callum asks from beside me in a pub back in Chicago, but I pay him no mind. I’m preoccupied. Taken in by the memory of her smile when I promised outside her apartment door to always come back. I remember the sweetness of her lips as she pressed them briefly to mine and then told me to go.

  That she would wait for me.

  “He looks like a man who’s in the doghouse.” Malcolm brings the gin and tonic in front of him to his lips and takes a sip. “Want to share with the class? I’m an expert on relationships nowadays.”

  “Back off, Asher.”

  “I’m not the enemy, Casper.” Malcolm regards me with a cool look, at ease. “But something is up, and it isn’t business related. Fuck that—since when do you spend so much time in Chicago?”

  “My apologies,” I say, but I neither confirm or deny his suspicions. “Just have a lot going on in my head.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” Callum clears his throat, ready to add his two cents, but at my glare closes his mouth. I’m sure he’ll bring it up again. That he’ll tell me I’m being an idiot, but now isn’t the right fucking time to meddle. Cousin or not, I’m not in the mood for anyone’s bullshit.

  “Fair enough.” Malcolm then pulls out an envelope from his suit jacket and pushes it across the table. It’s an invitation of some sort and I raise a brow at him. “London and I would like to invite the Jamesons to our wedding. It’s taking place in a couple of months here and I’d like for you to be a part of the wedding party. It’ll give you a chance to get to know London and meet her cousin Aurora. She’ll be the maid of honor—”

  I don’t let him finish. “Count me in.”

  “That easy?”

  “You’re someone I consider family. End of.” Perfect opportunity to fix this. “Do you know who I’ll be walking down the aisle with?”

  Callum coughs, and Malcolm glances back over at him with a questioning look. “You okay?”

  “Yeah…” my cousin bangs a hand on his chest at bit “…beer went down the wrong pipe.”

  “Oi. Be careful.”

  “Thanks.” He gives me a shitty grin. “Must be some bullshit in the air that caused it.”

  “You’re the only tosser choking on nothing. All you, bro.”

  Malcolm clears his throat; the man doesn’t quite know what to think. “Any request?”

  “Her cousin.” No hesitation from me, and if he notices, Asher doesn’t call me out on it. Something I’m grateful for. “It’ll give me a chance to get to know her as well.” To win her back.

  28

  “THAT WAS A BIT extra of you, Roe-Roe.”

  “I agree with her, chick. A bit much,” Aliana adds after London, looking at me like I’m insane for having changed my number. And maybe it is a bit much, but what’s done is done and so be it. “Especially since you swear he means nothing and isn’t worth mentioning.”

  “She has a point.” London picks up a piece of apple with Brie, pops it into her mouth, chews, and then gives me the stink eye. “Why can’t you at the very least give us his name?”

  We’re at the house she shares with Malcolm and in the middle of some serious wedding planning. There are samples everywhere: flowers, fabric swatches, and a few place settings to choose from that the planner dropped off for us to go through. The menu is pretty much set, and I’m just adding notes for the caterer on different RSVPs with allergies while Aliana serves us drinks. Bottle number three, a light Pinot has been the group’s favorite so far.

  “Because it’s not important.”

  “Says the woman still harping on it.”

  “That’s mean, Lo-Lo.”

  “Calls it like I sees it.” She shrugs, waving her hand in the air. “Prove me wrong. Tell us.”

  I shake my head. “Not happening.”

  “You suck.” Then she’s distracted by a pretty napkin and the ring that goes with it. It’s in a soft champagne color with a gold trim. “I like this one. What do you think?”

  “Beautiful and delicate. I’m digging it.” This all feels like it’s happening overnight; we met, I blinked, and they disappeared for a few days, coming back engaged. And I can’t deny that a small piece of me is jealous. That I want this for myself. She’s so happy, vibrating, and this newly found confidence looks good on her.

  My beautiful cousin is free, and it’s because those two pieces of shit are dead. May they rot in hell where they belong. Her past isn’t pretty, but my girl has risen above the bull crap and is building a good life with Malcolm. He’s good to her. Looks at her the way Casper would look at me whenever our eyes met. Like I was his everything.

  Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe I should just let him explain why he went to see my father.

  “You look like you want to spill,” Ali whispers beside me and I jump, wanting to punch her while she refills my glass. Her giggles are not helping her one bit.

  “Nope,” I hiss.

  “Yes,” they say in unison.

  “Not happening.”

  “Why not?” my best friend whines, and I can’t stop the epic eye roll that follows. These two are relentless. “Why can’t you admit you like him and tell us who he is? Do we know him?”

  “Because she’s being selfish.” Mariah, Malcolm’s cousin, walks into the Asher kitchen then with two more bottles of wine in hand and a delivery boy behind her that looks ready to pee his pants. It’s priceless, what I come to expect when we convene and gossip. It’s nice. Fun. We go together in a way that’s seamless.

  “Withholding information from friends is a punishable offense, Aurora. I’m both hurt and disappointed,” Ali says, a fake innocent expression on her face.

  “Really? Who sent you a text last week that turned you tomato red?”

  The other two turn their heads and narrow their eyes.

  “It was a wrong number.”

  “Those make you blush and smile?” I question, hoping it takes the attention off me.

  “Whoever it was had sent someone a dirty joke. Sue me...” Ali shrugs, trying to be nonchalant but I’m not buying it “...and I didn’t know that finding something amusing was such an issue. Unlike you, I haven’t been on a date in a long time. Too freaking long.”

  “You guys suck as friends,” I say, schooling my facial features for half a second, because then like a domino effect, we all crack up. One by one laughter rings up and it’s in the middle of it that someone clears their throat.

  The delivery boy is still there and standing awkwardly by the counter near the fridge. “Can I leave?”

  Christ. We begin all over again. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.

  Tears. Hiccups. The whole nine.

  And right now, when I want to give in and call him—see him—it’s needed. It hurts like hell, this separation, but we can’t go on like this. I’m here and he’s there. And while I know that it won’t fix our situation, our relationship can go one of two ways at this point…

  Together, or not at all. The ball is in his court, and I hope he seeks me out.

  That he makes the right move.

  London is the first to calm down, and her eyes gets this evil twinkle in them. “You know, Malcolm has a good friend flying in for the wedding that I could set you up with. He’s handsome, in his thirties, and Asher approved.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” This time it’s Aliana.

  “Prove us wrong.” Mariah is looking at me with a raised brow. Knowing that if I fight it, it’s because of the mystery man they’re dying to know about.

  I’m a cheater if I do and damned if I don’t. Fake it for now and call it off before the date.

  “Fine. I’ll go on one date if he agrees.” The hoots and hollers that follow make me forget we’re grown women and not a bunch of prepubescent tweens at a boy band concert. “What’s his name, by the way? The friend?”

  “Not telling,” London says with a gi
ggle, high-fiving the other two. “It’ll be a surprise.”

  Crap.

  It’s around midnight when I finally make it back home, and just like the last few days, there’s a long-stemmed white rose on my door. A first, because the others have been on the windshield of my car or my office door at The Conte House.

  It’s taped, and with a folded note attached that I grab, opening it right there before entering my apartment.

  I’m going to give you the world, Aurora.

  Just hear me out.

  Let me in.

  The girly girl deep within makes an appearance and I squeak. Squeal. I make all kinds of embarrassing noises that I’m incredibly thankful no one sees, this display of weakness.

  This little act of affection means more to me than any ostentatious gift would. It soothes me. Makes me think that maybe, just maybe, I’m wrong and he’s not the jerk I’ve made him out to be in my head.

  That maybe there’s a reason for how he handled things. For why he went to see my father, a father who’s gone silent since that visit. Not a single peep in days, and had it not been for Samantha letting me know to stay clear—in a text—because a mob boss from England was visiting, I wouldn’t have known.

  It’s just too much of a coincidence, and his lack of denial is all the confirmation I need.

  Or maybe I’m looking too deep into this and I just need to let it play out.

  My mind likes that conclusion while my heart thunders in my chest. There’s no denying that I miss Casper. That I want him here, but I’m going to need something more profound than a flower and note.

  What I need is to know how he feels about me. To know that he cares.

  That maybe someday soon he will love me like I already love him.

  A sobering truth that sends me rushing inside and to bed. It’s better to not think about things I can’t fix; this is on him.

  Casper needs to show me before we can move forward.

  There’s a hard knock on my door the next morning, startling me awake. It’s constant, loud, and I find myself stumbling down the hall toward the front door without a second thought.