by Lisa Cardiff
“What did I do?”
“You and your family did plenty.” She lifted her finger, aiming it at me like a loaded gun, and I backpedaled a few steps.
“That’s enough,” Nico barked. “Carmela doesn’t have anything to do with this. You made your bed, and if you want to see another dollar from me, you’ll shut the fuck up and march your ass outta here right now.”
She blinked away a few tears. “So that’s it? You’re choosing her over me too?”
The muscle in the lower half of his jaw ticking, Nico pulled a keychain from his pocket. “Grow up, Gemma. Not everything revolves around you.”
Gemma’s shoulders sagged, and she held out her open hand. “Fine. Whatever you say. Just give me the key, and I’ll leave.”
“Take my car.” He dropped the keys into her palm. “I’ll stop by later and we can talk.”
She unthreaded a key and tossed the keychain at Nico’s chest. It bounced off and clattered to the floor. “Lanelle’s waiting outside. I don’t need you or your stupid car. Facia bruta.”
She spun on her heel and stomped away. What a drama queen.
“Sorry about that.” Nico took my hand. “Are you okay?”
“What was that about?”
“Nothing. She’s bitter about the way her life turned out, and she doesn’t have anyone to blame except herself. She made a lot of bad decisions over the past few years, and she refuses to accept responsibility and move on with her life.”
“I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”
“Don’t worry about it. I need to talk to Dominick anyway. Come find me when you’re ready to go.”
He planted a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I drew his spicy scent into my lungs and hooked my hands around his neck. I kissed him back, barely a faint touch, lingering for a few seconds when a husky noise rumbled from his lips. He opened his mouth and moved his tongue against mine.
Deep. Possessive. Hungry.
It’d been too long since I kissed a man. Over three years to be exact. The last time I saw Rocco looped through my brain like a horror movie and I staggered back, ending the kiss. I blinked twice trying to bring everything into focus. I couldn’t believe I had kissed Nico.
He squeezed my hand, a grin splashed across his face. “Go do what you need to do. I’ll be waiting for you.”
I nodded numbly and rushed out of the ballroom, ignoring the stares from the guests. I needed a few minutes alone and not only due to the weird confrontation with Nico’s sister, but also because everyone’s prying eyes were directed at me. I couldn’t count the number of times people pumped me for information about when I planned to get married. I wished they’d shut up and mind their own business. So what? My twin brother beat me to the altar. I was twenty-eight, not thirty-eight. I had time.
“Carmela Trassato?” A man with a black hoodie and jeans stepped out of the shadows, and a chill darted down my spine.
“Yes?”
He shoved a white envelope against my stomach. “This is for you.”
I frowned, tearing it out of his hand. “Who are you?”
“No one important.” He turned, heading toward to exit.
I sat on a cobalt blue bench near the bathroom and ripped open the envelope, my hands shaking and dread suffocating me.
C.,
Meet me at Mercantile Restaurant at 6 tomorrow. We need to talk about the future.
-K.
“Fuck my life.” I crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the trash.
CHAPTER THREE
Konstantin
More than fifteen minutes late, I scanned the restaurant for Carmela. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get my shit together today, mentally or physically. I drank too damn much last night, and my head throbbed like a motherfucker late into the afternoon. Then there was my visceral reaction to the thought of seeing Carmela, which only played into my reservations about following through with this arrangement.
I thoroughly enjoyed pretending Carmela didn’t exist for the last year. That this whole mess would disappear if I ignored it. That she’d find someone else and my father would open his eyes and finally see the stupidity in this course of action.
Sadly, Evie’s marriage to Gian thrust the bargain into the forefront of my dad’s mind, renewing his interest in furthering our connection to the Trassatos. Now I didn’t have any choice except to open communications with Carmela and hope this whole scheme didn’t end with an engagement, or worse, marriage.
Granted, I had enough leverage to call my dad’s bluff and refuse to follow through with this. Two things stopped me from doing exactly that. First, it would cause an irreparable divide between my dad and me, and he was the only family member still in my life. My mom called me maybe two times in the last year, my birthday and Christmas. She started dating some guy in my hometown, and she wanted to put some space between her past and present, which in her mind included me.
Secondly, my dad was unpredictable. He could go after Evie, and while Evie and I weren’t on speaking terms, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. She was my sister, and after everything we put her through—the lies, the half-truths, and manipulations—I owed it to her to shield her from our dad’s poisonous interference.
This left me with one option. I had to find a way to placate my dad without getting sucked into an unwanted committed relationship. My last relationship demonstrated that nothing good came of welcoming people into your life and your soul. At best, it ended in disappointment. At worst, it left you with permanent scars.
My gaze finally landed on Carmela, and a jolt of electricity rocketed through me.
Damnit.
This was why I’d avoided this woman for months. I wanted her on some primal level, which was fine. I lusted after a lot of women since I kicked Laney out of my life. Hell, I screwed plenty of them, but none of them stuck in my head like Carmela Trassato, and I hadn’t even touched her.
You know that flash of a second when your eyes connect with someone’s and it’s like your souls know each other? Well, I’d swear on pain of death that was what happened the first time I saw Carmela. I dismissed those convoluted feelings and moved on until my dad demanded I accompany him to the Trassatos’ house before Carmela’s dad died.
For weeks afterward, I saw her face every damn time I closed my eyes. Even worse, I smelled her clean, citrusy scent everywhere. As cheesy as it sounded, it was like she had cast a spell on me.
When I thought I had managed to scrub her from my brain permanently, my dad made a deal with her to let Gian pursue Evie in exchange for Carmela condemning herself to a life with me. Then my fixation with her started all over again, albeit this time around no amount of alcohol, fights, women, or near death experiences had helped to scrub her existence from my mind.
“Carmela,” I grunted, sliding into the chair across from her. “You look nice.” I lied. She looked better than nice. She embodied every fantasy I had when I was still a naïve farm boy living the simple life in Nebraska, and not a nasty criminal with a lengthy list of sins.
Exotic amber eyes that reminded me of sunshine. Long dark hair with the right amount of wave. Skin the color of golden honey. Curves that made my hands twitch with the urge to grab a handful. Lips the color of the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.
And like the forbidden fruit led to Adam and Eve’s ruin, I knew Carmela Trassato would be mine if I let down my guard around her.
“Mr. Trincher.” The measured burn of her stare scraped down my torso and back up again as she dragged her finger through the condensation on her water glass. She wasn’t touching me, yet I felt the swipe of her soft hands all the same. “Sorry I can’t say the same about you. You look like shit. Did you attempt to drown yourself in a fifth of vodka last night or is this a standard look for you?”
Leaning back, I folded my arms across my chest and offered her my trademarked grin. It started at one corner and leisurely spread to the other. “Is that any way to
treat the love of your life and your future husband?”
She recoiled and her elbow caught the edge of the table. The cutlery rattled and the water glasses wobbled. She closed her eyes momentarily and hitched a breath. “Is that why you’re here? Did you finally decide to go through with this?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
She studied me, and beneath the layers of distrust I saw hope. I saw happiness. I saw excitement. My gut twisted with the need to be the prince charming for once in my godforsaken life. Unfortunately for her, circumstances had already cast me as the villain, and I didn’t think that would change any time in the near future.
“Look, Carmela.” I planted my hands on the edge of the table. “I don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to date you, and I definitely don’t want to grow old with you.”
The corner of her lips curled upward, and she beamed with gullibility and innocence. “So that’s it? The deal is off. Both of us are free to do whatever we want?”
“If only that were the case.”
Her brows caved together. We were so close that only the flickering candle and waves of heat separated our faces. “Then why am I here?”
The waitress approached the table, her hands on her hips and an overly bright smile on her face. She looked vaguely familiar. “Hey, Kon,” she purred, her expression predatory. “Where have you been hiding yourself?”
Then it hit me, and I grimaced inwardly. This chick had sucked me off in the storage room the last time I came here for dinner with my dad a couple of months ago. From what I could remember, the night was a real shit show. I’d pounded back drink after drink while my dad ranted nonstop about the ways I had failed to meet his expectations, and how I never would meet his expectations. In other words, it was a typical night.
I pulled in more money than my dad and my influence in the Russian mafia was quickly eclipsing his, and yet he still wanted more, bleeding me dry every second I spent under his thumb. Instead of listening, I mercilessly flirted with the waitress, showing him without words he couldn’t control me.
I whispered crude pickup lines every time she delivered something to the table. I brushed my fingertips up her bare legs and down her arm. And in retrospect, I acted like a complete dickhead.
When I got up to go to the bathroom, she redirected me to a nearby closet and proceeded to give me one of the most forgettable blowjobs of my life, but that didn’t stop me from throwing it in my dad’s face. He flipped his shit. I smiled at the memory of his face when I returned to the table.
“Here and there,” I drawled, lifting the menu and for practical purposes dismissing her. I didn’t need the ghosts of stupid decisions thrown in my face tonight. Not when I needed Carmela to trust me.
The waitress didn’t get the hint. She inched closer and angled her body toward mine, her legs and plastic breasts sweeping against me. Her peppery, floral scent curled into my nose, and I ground my teeth together. She needed to back away before I flipped my shit.
“I haven’t seen you around since we—”
“We’re ready to order,” I interrupted.
Carmela’s curious stare fixed on the waitress whose name I couldn’t recall even if someone pressed a gun to my head. “We are?” Carmela said. “Huh. I kind of wanted to hear what—I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name…”
“Lindsey,” the waitress supplied, rolling her shoulders back. Her breasts looked like they’d explode out of her white collared shirt with one strenuous breath.
“…Lindsey had to say about the last time you ran into her,” Carmela finished.
“Lindsey,” I said, drawing out her name, “doesn’t have anything to say. She’s here to do her job and take our order. We’ll have the tasting menu with wine pairing.”
“That’s not happening,” Carmela cut in. “It’s seven courses. I don’t have time for that.”
Neither did I, but I in the interest of getting the waitress the hell away from me, I ordered the first item listed on the menu.
I turned to the waitress. “Why are you still here? I didn’t ask you to pull up a chair and join us.”
“Ugh. Whatever,” she huffed, whirling around and stomping to the kitchen.
“Well, that was interesting,” Carmela said. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
There wasn’t. Lindsey was one more woman in a lengthy line of mistakes since my ex shit all over my life, leaving my personal life in shambles. The only upside of my ex’s departure was that I channeled my anger and resentment into making money, thinking I’d show my ex what she was missing.
Regrettably, flaunting my success came back to haunt me during Laney’s first stint of sobriety and every one following. It never failed. She came after me like a stage five clinger, meddling in my life and trying to worm her way back into my home. I made the mistake of helping her out once, and I’d never repeat it. She stole everything of value in my place, and disappeared.
“Actually, you know what? I don’t want to know what that was about. Just cut to the chase. What’s going on here? I don’t get it. You don’t want anything to do with the deal I made with your dad, but you want to sit here for three hours, doing what? Staring at each other?”
“I said I didn’t want anything to do with the arrangement, but that doesn’t mean I won’t go through the motions if I have to.”
“Go through the motions?”
“We’re going to date. You know, pretend we plan to fulfill the terms of the agreement until we find a way out of this.”
“How will dating help anything?”
“It will get my dad off my back.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and released a strained breath. My headache from drinking too much last night roared back to life with a vengeance. “Right now, he’s pushing to announce the engagement as a way to force your family to the negotiating table. I don’t want that, and I’d bet my life you don’t either.”
“He can’t do that. My family would freak. It would be ugly. And I’ve gone on a few dates with someone else recently. It would look suspicious. They’d never buy it.”
A surge of unexpected and unwanted jealousy rushed through my veins. “Dates with who?”
She licked her lips, then lifted her glass of ice water. I couldn’t look away. Something about the way her full lips curled around the glass made my pulse rate skyrocket. Images of her on her knees with her lips parted, looking at me with those amber eyes through the fringe of her lashes flashed through my brain.
“I can do whatever I want with whomever I want. It’s none of your business,” she said, squashing the depraved spiral of my thoughts as effectively as throwing a cold glass of water in my face.
“Like hell, it isn’t.” I snatched her wrist. “Don’t fuck with me. I didn’t get where I am by being a pushover.”
“No, I suspect you got where you are with a little nepotism and a whole lot of murder.”
I released my grasp. “Don’t push me. Trust me. You won’t enjoy the consequences.”
She cocked a brow. “Oh, yeah? Is that a threat, Mr. Trincher? Because if it is I’d like to remind you I’m not some powerless twit. I can rain Hell down on you with the snap of my fingers.”
“Have it your way.” I tossed my napkin on the table. “I’ll tell my dad to go ahead and announce our engagement. I don’t give a fuck.”
“Ugh.” She threw her hands up. “Fine. Don’t be such an ass. I’ve gone on a few dates with Nico DeAngelo.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What’s wrong with Nico?”
I snorted. Of all the men she could be dating in this city or in her circle of acquaintances, she decided to explore something with Nico DeAngelo. He was a manipulative bastard. Every move he made was calculated to line his pockets. Dominick held the title godfather in the Trassato family, but Nico had his greedy fingers in everything, distorting the truth to his benefit. Dominick was dumb as fuck if he
actually trusted him. He was doing thousands of dollars of business off the record, and Dominick either ignored it or was too senile to see it.
“So many things I don’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t you give it a stab?”
“I’ll let you figure out his flaws for yourself.”
“Does that mean you won’t interfere in our relationship?”
“So now you’re in a relationship.” The word tasted like poison on my tongue.
“Not really.” Her shoulders dipped, and she unfolded her napkin, dropping it in her lap. “My dad wanted me to marry him. My uncle has given his official nod of approval. I’ve been dragging my feet, but if I can get out of this thing with you, it’s probably a done deal. That’s how things work in my family.”
“Do you like him?”
“He’s okay, not that it matters what I do or don’t like.”
She chewed on the corner of her lip, her gaze flitting around the restaurant. In that second, I saw straight through her tough exterior, and the misery in her eyes squeezed at that big organ in the center of my chest. Here was this completely stunning woman with her dark hair, glowing eyes, the perfect amount of curves, living a charmed life without many responsibilities or financial hardship, yet you’d think she had nothing and no one. Some previously undetected piece of me that gave a damn about people wanted to pull her into my arms and erase her pain. I squashed the thought as quickly as it surfaced. I didn’t have time for sentimental emotions. They kicked my ass before, and they’d do it again if I didn’t keep myself firmly in check.
“Well, that’s a ringing endorsement if I’ve ever heard one.”
Her nose scrunched up in exasperation. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” I scrubbed my hand down my face, trying to wipe away any lingering jealousy, attraction, or whatever else I felt for her. I needed to get my head on straight when it came to this woman. I couldn’t let any ill-conceived feelings get in the way of doing what needed to be done. “In fact, this whole thing could work to our benefit.”
