Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series

by Beauman, Cate

  “When did you become involved with the Caparelli crime family?”

  “I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. I was ranked an associate as a young boy—did some bookmaking, ran money, parked cars. My father wanted Alfie and me to earn our way up the chain in the organization just like everyone else. To learn the business.”

  “When you mention Alfie, you’re speaking of your older brother Alfeo?”

  “I am.”

  “What part did you play later on in the organization—as you got older?”

  “I was a capo for several years.”

  “Please explain what that means.”

  “Caporegime—a captain. I was a high-ranking member of the family. I oversaw a large group of men—kept them in line, made sure they were earning for the organization.”

  “Would you say you had a lot of influence within the family?”

  Vinny moved his head from side to side. “I would say I was well-respected—the most level-headed out of my father, brother, and me. The men liked to talk to me instead of either of them. They were less likely to get shot that way, so I would say yes.”

  “You mentioned keeping people in line just a moment ago. What does that mean?”

  “All kinds of things,” he said as he adjusted the oxygen tubing on his face.

  “Did you ever commit murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you recall how many individuals you killed?”

  “Six.”

  “You killed six men?”

  He shrugged. “Death is part of the life. If you’re not the one doing the killing, someone else is. If it’s not you doing the whacking, you’re probably about to get whacked yourself.”

  “Whacked? Can you explain that term for me, Mr. Caparelli?”

  “To murder—kill.”

  “Did your brother Alfeo kill anyone?”

  Vinny nodded. “Alfeo did the majority of the killing for the family. My father preferred it that way.”

  Reed sat back, adjusting his ball cap so that he wore it backward as he crossed his ankles on the coffee table, listening to Skylar work her way through Nicoli Caparelli’s long interview.

  ~~~~

  Bella sang along with the radio as she drove toward Dad’s with the top down. She bobbed her head in time with the beat blasting through the speakers, more than a little thrilled that she’d been able to cut out of work early. Her three o’clock body sculpting appointment had ended up rescheduling. Abby called at one thirty, still stuck in a meeting, unable to make their two o’clock facial. It was a rare and beautiful occasion when she was able to sneak away for a half day, and she had every intention of taking full advantage.

  She’d dropped Lucy off at home and changed into her adorable new black spaghetti-strap romper. Abby had been so right when she encouraged her to grab the playful wrap-tie sandals to complement her outfit. Basically, the afternoon was off to a glorious start. A visit with Dad was first on the agenda. Maybe they could sit in the garden and soak up a little sunshine and fresh air. Then she had a few errands to run before Reed got home. She smiled, remembering her hot night with her favorite guy—and this morning too. Perhaps he would be up for a repeat performance. Maybe she would just tackle him as soon as he walked through the door. “Easy girl,” she muttered and chuckled.

  She slowed for the next stoplight and sat up taller when she spotted the sign for The Juice Bar. Smoothies definitely had to happen today. She flipped on her turn signal and pulled through the drive-thru, ordering two small pineapple-mango treats. Dad wasn’t likely to drink much, but he would have the option if he wanted it. Joining the flow of traffic again, she drove the last two miles to the hospice center and glanced at the dashboard clock, thrilled that her new commute from door to door was right around seven minutes. She pulled into a spot by a truck that looked just like Reed’s and shrugged, knowing he had a full hour left on duty with Sadie. She grabbed the tropical drinks and went inside.

  “Hi, Bella.”

  “Hi.” She smiled at Heather and kept going, not wanting to interrupt Dad’s nurse as she spoke to one of the other patients’ family members Bella recognized from yesterday. Moving down the hall, she paused outside of Dad’s room and adjusted the cups in her hands, then knocked and turned the doorknob. “Daddy, I—” She blinked her surprise as she stepped in, glancing from Dad to Reed as he yanked his feet off the coffee table and rushed to stand, pulling a blanket over a board full of pictures.

  “Bella.”

  She looked at Joey, then a tall, beautiful blonde standing by a video camera. “What’s going on in here?”

  Reed tossed his hat to the chair and jammed his fingers through his hair in the tense silence.

  She realized the video camera was pointed at Dad and stepped farther inside when she was mostly certain she wanted to turn and leave. “What is this?”

  “Bella, I’m Skylar Grayson.”

  She frowned, growing more confused by the second. “From the FBI?”

  “Yes. I’m going to step out and give you a minute.”

  Joey stood. “Bella.”

  “Joey,” she said quietly.

  He stepped out with Skylar and shut the door.

  She set the drinks down on the table and pressed her hand to her queasy stomach. “Why do I feel sick?”

  Reed pulled out a chair. “Go ahead and take a seat.”

  She shook her head, staring into his eyes, seeing the apology there. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  He steamed out a breath. “It’s a long story.”

  “Just say it.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Vinny and I are helping the FBI with a case.”

  She pressed her fingers to her temples as a headache started brewing. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’re helping the DA build a case against Alfeo Caparelli.”

  Why did that name sound so familiar? “Caparelli,” she whispered, trying to place it as her mind raced.

  “The Caparelli crime family,” Reed said.

  “Like Mr. Asante? I don’t— Why?” She looked at Dad. “How do you know Alfeo Caparelli?”

  Dad struggled to sit up farther in his bed. “He’s my brother.”

  She gripped the chair as her pulse pounded too fast. “What?”

  “I’m Nicoli Caparelli, Bella.”

  Her breath shuddered in and out as her world started crumbling around her. “You’re Vincent Pescoe.”

  He shook his head. “I was in the Witness Protection Program.”

  Was this really happening? She looked at Reed again. “I want to see the board.”

  “Bella—”

  “Let me see it,” she snapped as her voice broke.

  Reed clenched his jaw as he pulled the blanket away.

  Her breath came faster as she stared at photographs of herself at Luisa’s party and horrid, gruesome images of dead bodies. There was a rusted knife and a picture of Dad when he’d been younger, but it was the photograph of Dad bundled up in blankets, sitting next to Reed in an off-road vehicle with the New York skyline behind them, that was more than she could handle. “You two—you went…”

  “Isabella, look at me,” Dad said.

  She turned her head and held his gaze.

  “I’ve been a bad man. I’ve done so many things I’m not proud of. I’m trying to fix them before I can’t.”

  “I don’t—” She looked at Reed again as a thought wiped away the rest. “How long have you known?”

  He scrubbed at his jaw, holding her stare.

  She blinked back tears as she feared she already knew the answer. “How long have you known?”

  “I was part of the mafia life, Bella,” Dad explained. “Reed is trying to help me right my wrongs.”

  She ignored Dad and stepped toe-to-toe with Reed. “Did you know about this the whole time? Did you know who my father was?”

  His nostrils flared.

  “Answer me!”

  “I found out not long after we met
.”

  Her heart shattered as she stepped back. “I have to go.”

  Reed took a step toward her. “Bella—”

  “No.” She pointed at him. “You stay away from me.” She looked at Dad. “I don’t even know what to say.” She opened the door and collided with Joey. Shoving away from him, she hurried down the hall.

  “Bella,” Reed called after her.

  She ran when she heard his footsteps not far behind. Picking up her pace, she sprinted to her car and got in, locking the door despite the top being down as Reed pulled on the handle.

  “Bella, wait.”

  “Leave me alone!” Her breath hitched in and out as she jammed the key into the ignition with trembling hands and took off with a squeal of tires, pulling out onto the road while pain thundered in her head. She moved with the flow of traffic on automatic pilot, replaying the last few minutes, still trying to grasp that this was actually happening. Her father’s name was Nicoli? Reed had lied? How was this real?

  She blinked, realizing she was somehow pulling into her neighborhood, and came to an abrupt stop in the driveway. She got out and let herself into the house, locking the door behind her before she went upstairs and bolted for the bathroom, just making it to the toilet before she vomited.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gripped the seat and dry heaved, listening to Lucy whine by her side. She wanted to assure her puppy that she was all right, but nothing about her life was okay anymore.

  ~~~~

  Reed shoved his key into Bella’s front doorknob and walked inside, taking the steps in twos when he didn’t see her downstairs. For most of his frantic drive home, he’d been right behind her, but she blew through a traffic light as it turned red, leaving him in her dust. He was here now, and they were going to talk this through. He moved down the hall and slowed, swearing as he listened to her quiet crying echoing off the bathroom walls. This situation right here was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid all along. They’d been so close to finishing up—another ten minutes and they would have been done. Now he was terrified Bella was through with him. As she had every right to be. He stepped into the bathroom and clenched his jaw, staring at her kneeling by the toilet with Lucy by her side.

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Get out.”

  “Please talk to me.”

  She flushed the toilet and stood, holding her head in her hands.

  He frowned, moving closer to her, his first instinct to pull her close and make sure she was okay. “Are you having a migraine?”

  She said nothing as she turned on the cold water and rinsed her mouth, then splashed water on her cheeks. Pulling the hand towel off the bar, she pressed her face into the cotton and started crying again.

  He shook his head as he stared up at the ceiling, loathing himself for hurting her so badly. Things weren’t supposed to have turned out this way. “Let me get you some medicine.”

  “I don’t want you here.” She rushed back to the toilet and puked again.

  He grabbed the prescription bottle from the cupboard and shook a pill into his hand, then got her some water. “Here,” he said as he moved to where she sat on the floor. “Take this.”

  She took the water and pill without looking at him and swallowed both down, then walked to her bed and lay on top of the covers. “Please go away.”

  She was so pale, so helpless, like the last time when this happened. But nothing was the same as it was before. “I will. Once I know you’re going to be all right.”

  She stared up at him with devastated eyes. “How could you do this to me?”

  He crouched down next to her, wanting to touch and soothe, but he knew he wasn’t welcome. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tears trailed down her cheeks and she rolled, facing away from him—toward his pillow, where he usually slept.

  “I’m sorry, Bella,” he said again as he sat in the chair in the corner of the room and stared at her slim figure, listening to her breathing turn even as her pill kicked in, knocking her out. He rested his elbows on his thighs and rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling slightly nauseated himself. This wasn’t over. He needed to explain and make her understand—to fix everything, but he was in for a long, hellish wait while she slept off her headache.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Bella woke in the dark, blinking as she stared at the time glowing bright on her alarm clock. She frowned as she studied the play of light and shadows in her room, realizing that it was too quiet. Lucy wasn’t snoring on her bed in the corner, and Reed wasn’t breathing deeply by her side. She rolled, reaching for him, and sat up in a rush, panicked when she didn’t find him there. “Reed,” she called, then leaned back against her pillow as pieces of her day started filtering through the fog. Reed had lied to her…and Dad.

  She pulled back the blanket Reed must have covered her with and heard a paper crinkle by her hip. Turning on the light, she squinted, reading his handwriting.

  I have Lucy with me.

  She swallowed, staring at the sentence, trying to process the gravity of his five simple words. Reed was taking care of their puppy. He’d taken care of her too. This afternoon he’d rushed home moments after her and had given her one of her pills when she’d been too sick and out of sorts to get one for herself. At some point, he’d taken off her shoes as well. That’s what couples did—helped each other out when their partners were down for the count. But she and Reed weren’t a couple anymore. “Oh, God,” she shuddered out, pressing her hand to her heart as the pain came rushing back. Their relationship was over.

  Wiping at her damp cheeks, she stood and looked out the window. His lights were on. She had to go over there, but she didn’t want to. With little choice, she went downstairs and walked across the side yard, eyeing the glossy wood of his front door in the porch light. Taking a steadying breath, she fisted her hand and knocked, wishing desperately that Reed would just have left Lucy at home where she belonged.

  He opened the door, dressed in ratty gym shorts, wearing one of his ball caps backward. “You’re up.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing her gaze down his naked chest. Her heart wasn’t supposed to beat faster just from looking at him. She wasn’t supposed to crave the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her. Not after what happened today. “I just need Lucy.”

  He stepped back in the doorway. “Why don’t you come in?”

  She shook her head. “It’s late.”

  “Please talk to me.”

  She tried to ignore the weariness in his eyes and hints of desperation in his voice. “I can’t.”

  “Please, Bella. Let me explain.”

  She stared at him for several long seconds. “Okay. Fine.” They were going to have to do this eventually. Now seemed as good a time as any. She stepped inside. “But I only have a minute.”

  “I’ll take it.” He closed the door behind her, scrutinizing her face as he stood inches away. “How are you feeling?”

  How was she supposed to answer that when she could smell the soap on his skin? When she longed for everything to be exactly the way it had been only hours ago? “My headache’s gone.”

  He nodded. “That’s good.”

  She cleared her throat and swiped at her hair again. “Where’s Lucy?”

  “Sleeping on a blanket upstairs.”

  “Oh.” She turned toward the windows and stared out as the tension radiating between them became unbearable. What now? How did this work when she loved so desperately but hurt so deeply? “I want you to tell me everything: who my father is.” She turned, facing him. “Who you are.”

  “I’m still me, Bella.”

  “No.” Her bottom lip trembled as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “For months, I’ve been living a lie.” She blinked, realizing that was hardly accurate. “My whole life.”

  “There are things I haven’t told you while we’ve been together, but nothing’s changed between you and me—”

  “Everything’s changed. Everything, R
eed,” she repeated as she crossed her arms, trying to rub them warm.

  “I love you.”

  She shut her eyes. “Don’t say that to me.”

  He closed the distance between them and gently gripped her shoulders. “It’s true. I love you.”

  She lifted her chin and stepped back, terrified to let herself believe the truth she saw in his gaze. Right now, she had no idea what was real. “Who’s my father?”

  “Come sit down.” He took her hand. “You’re still pale.”

  She pulled away, finding his touch its own form of torture, and took a seat on his one and only barstool at the island.

  “How about something to drink?”

  She laced her fingers on the cool granite. “No. Thank you.”

  He opened the refrigerator door and took a pitcher off the empty shelf, pouring her a glass of water anyway. “This is fresh.” He set it down in front of her.

  “Just tell me.”

  He leaned back against the counter across from her and crossed his arms. “Your father’s name is Nicoli Caparelli. He was born into the Caparelli crime family.”

  She rubbed at her temple. “I got that part.”

  “Maybe we should wait—”

  She shook her head adamantly. “I want every word before I walk out that door.”

  He clenched his jaw and nodded. “Do you remember how I told you about the Caparellis being part of La Cosa Nostra?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re the most powerful of the five families. They always have been. Your father grew up in that life. His father, Patrizio, groomed him to take his place in the organization.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He was a capo—a captain.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Basically he was one of the higher-ups in the organization. He had men who worked for him—reported to him, followed his orders, did business deals, and sent money up the chain to him and Patrizio. Kind of like being a manager for a big company.”

  She sipped her water, relieving her dry throat. “They did illegal things?”