by Lisa Cardiff
“What do you mean?”
“Let me worry about the details.”
Her eyes veered to the side, and she folded her arms across her chest, calling attention to the soft rise and fall of her chest. “No. I won’t blindly follow along with some scheme you’re concocting in your head.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad. You should’ve have thought about that before you agreed to my dad’s plan.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“So you’ve said. What’s your point?”
She stared at me in silence for a few moments. It unnerved me sitting across from her after months of simultaneously cursing her existence and craving her. Soft music mixed with the low rumble of conversation floated through the room. Her scent reminded me of the lemon trees in my mom’s greenhouse when they blossomed.
“You know what? I don’t care what you have in mind if it ends with you out of my life.”
“It might if we play our cards right.”
She swallowed, but it looked more like she had eaten something rotten. “When do we start?”
“You’ll meet me at an event in two days. I’ll text you the details.”
“What kind of event?”
“A little something with business associates. I’ll introduce you to some people. We’ll plant the seed that we’re more than friends. If things go to plan, we’ll be able to unwind this whole thing and move on to bigger and better things.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait. Now cancel the tasting menu. I’m leaving.” She stood. “Or better yet, why don’t you enjoy it with Lindsey? It sounds like she’s dying for another round with you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Carmela
It took way too long for me to get ready for my date with Konstantin Trincher. Other than his curt text instructing me to dress up and meet him at a bar on a sketchy block under a bridge at nine sharp, I didn’t have a clue what he had planned.
At eight-thirty, I settled on a red dress with a diagonal cutout around one side of my waist and strappy gold heels. After playing with a bunch of different hairstyles, I parted my hair down the middle and called it a day, reminding myself I didn’t care what that man thought of me.
With one last look at the clothes piled on my bed and jewelry scattered across the top of my dresser, I pulled out my phone, tapped on the closest car available, and jogged down the stairs.
“Carmela,” my mom called out the minute my hand curled around the door handle.
“Yes?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“Where are you off to?”
Fighting the urge to groan, I turned to face her. My dad’s personal belongings were still sprinkled around the house like he was on an extended vacation and he’d be back any day. His black tasseled loafers sat next to the front door. His favorite overcoat hung on a hook near the entrance to the library. His book was on the end table, the bookmark still tucked inside. I needed to get out of this place. It was like someone had waved a magic wand, freezing everything in a permanent cycle of grief, myself included. If I stayed here, I’d never move forward.
“I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”
She looked at me, taking in my appearance. “Nico?”
“No. A friend from design school.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I cursed my bad luck. For months, my mom couldn’t be bothered with me, and now when I truly needed her to be indifferent, she’d decided to take an interest in me. I should have exited through the garage instead of the front door.
“Does your friend have a name?”
“Mom.” I spread my arms wide, my red clutch in one hand and my phone in the other. The gold bangles on my arm jingled. “What’s with all the questions?”
She tucked a glossy covered magazine under her arm. “I know I’ve been emotionally unavailable since your father died. Honestly, I didn’t want to face the reality of spending the rest of my life alone, so I focused all my energy on Gian and Evangeline’s wedding. Now that it’s over, I see that you’ve been hurting too. First Rocco, and now your dad. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you. I want to be there for you and help you get your life back on track. You’re too young to give up on happiness. Rocco wouldn’t want that. Your dad didn’t want that either. We talked about your future a lot in those weeks before he died, you know.”
Pain coiled around my chest like a vise, the never-ending misery suffocating me. I didn’t want to talk about this right now. I’d lost two of the most important men in my life in less than three years. While I still had Gian, our relationship had changed since Evie came into his life. I didn’t begrudge his happiness. How could I? I loved him more than anyone. Yet, as luck would have it, his happiness had the perverse side effect of shining a spotlight on my hollowness.
“No, it hasn’t been easy.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “But I’m working through it. You don’t need to worry about me.”
She smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. It never made it as far as her eyes anymore. “How are things with Nico? You looked cozy at the wedding. Your dad would be so happy to see the two of you together. He respected Nico. He’s a hard worker and loyal to a fault.”
“I know. Dad said as much before he died, but I don’t want to rush into anything. I signed up for some interior design classes this fall, and I want to focus on finishing my degree.”
“Have you talked to Nico about this? I’m pretty sure he won’t like the idea of you working outside the home. Rocco didn’t either.”
I couldn’t listen to this. I was so sick of being controlled by the men in my life. Rocco and my father made it very clear they didn’t want me to work. After everything that happened, I thought I had earned the right to make decisions for myself. I wasn’t a dumb twenty-year-old anymore. I knew what I wanted, and it wasn’t sitting home while my husband went out and did God knew what. If I couldn’t have love, I needed a career so at least some portion of my life had meaning.
“Mom, Nico and I aren’t serious. We’re taking things slowly, and if the last couple of years have taught me anything, it’s that I can’t rely on him or any other man to support me. I need to do my own thing. Be my own person. I want to have a life outside of the man I marry.”
“Carmela, that sounds nice and all, but you’re old enough to understand the way things work in this family. Nico plans to marry you. He and your father worked out the details months before he died. Nico agreed to give you time to get to know him and get accustomed to the idea. It’s going to happen, though, and you need to be prepared.”
My mouth hinged open, and my breath whooshed out of my lungs. “Are you serious?”
“Of course.” She sighed like she had a hundred pound weight on her shoulders. “Your dad wanted to see you settled and make sure you were taken care of. I want that too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
My fingers twitched with anger. I needed to get out of here before I said something I’d regret. “Listen, Mom, I understand you want what’s best for me, but I won’t marry Nico because that’s what you guys think is best for me. I need to feel something for him.”
I cringed inwardly at my choice of words. I didn’t expect my feelings for Nico or any other man to rival my connection with Rocco. Having those feelings for another man would be a betrayal to Rocco, his memory, and the life we planned together since childhood. All the same, I needed to feel some level of affection and respect for the man I eventually married.
My mother grabbed my hand and squeezed it, a slight tremor in her hand. “You’re too young to give up on love, and Nico cares about you. If you open your heart to him, you might find something like you had with Rocco, or at the very least something that fills the emptiness.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m your mother. I can see these things. Don’t be stubborn. Give Nico a chance.”
“I have been, Mom. In case you missed it, I’ve gone out with him more than a few times. I took him with me to Gian’s wedding. So stop pu
shing me. I won’t let you or anyone else force me into a relationship with someone I don’t care about.”
“You don’t feel anything for Nico?”
“I don’t know.” I pushed my hair away from my face, regretting I didn’t put it into a ponytail. It had grown too long over the past six months, and it hung in my face more often than not. “I haven’t decided either way.”
“Have you dated anyone else since Rocco died?”
Kon’s blue eyes flashed through my mind. I should have told my mother about my agreement with the Trinchers months ago, except the right moment never came. Initially, I didn’t want to add to her pain. She had enough on her plate without worrying about some dumb deal I made to help Gian and Evie. As more and more time passed, I had hoped it would all disappear and I’d never have to confess what I’d done out of desperation to help my brother, completely disregarding my own safety in the process.
“Not really. I mean, I went to dinner with someone recently. Nothing will come of it. He’s not interested in anything serious.”
“Does Nico know?”
The car service honked.
Thank God.
“That’s my ride. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, and for the first time in months I felt like I had a mother again. “Okay. Have fun tonight. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Konstantin
“Rough night already?” Anatolyi squeezed my shoulder.
I flexed my hand around my drink, focusing on the entrance of the bar. Carmela was late, which wasn’t a good thing. I needed to be downstairs to supervise the gambling festivities in the next ten minutes or my dad would get an earful from our VIPs, and as a rule, I liked to avoid confrontations with him. He was a malicious bastard when people didn’t bend to his will.
Most dads yelled when they were ticked off. My dad had a tendency to pistol whip me or threaten to cut me out of his life. Although I must say, his relentless intimidation had gotten old, and I’d stopped taking him seriously approximately six months ago when it became painfully obvious he needed me as much as I needed him.
“Fuck off, Anatolyi.” I shrugged out of his grasp. “Go make yourself useful somewhere, preferably far away from me.”
He guffawed, pointing his beer bottle at me. “How cute. This woman already has you tied up in knots and you’re not even fucking her.” He scanned my face. “You’re nervous she won’t show.”
“She’ll show.”
“If you say so.”
He tapped his fingers to the beat of the music on the thigh of his grubby jeans. I’d never understand why my dad opened a Miami Beach themed bar in the armpit of Brooklyn. Latin percussion sounds pumped from speakers and the staff dressed the part with big tropical prints. On top of all that, they served fruity island cocktails decorated with slices of watermelon and pineapple.
The hipster crowd loved it. They thought they’d found a unique gem in the middle of Brooklyn, catering to their whims. In truth, the bar served as a front for the more profitable gambling activities in the bowels of this dump.
VIPs entered through the back door after reciting the secret password that changed nightly. Someone ushered them downstairs, and that’s where the magic happened. Gambling. Drinking. Smoking. And a shitload of women dressed in next to nothing.
In fact, it looked like a seedy Las Vegas casino complete with blackjack tables, roulette wheels, poker tables, and an area dedicated to betting on everything from professional sports to the next president of the United States.
“Here she comes now.” Anatolyi whistled, his head moving unhurriedly from side to side. “You better keep an eye on her tonight. The VIPs will think she’s on the menu.”
My head popped up, and everyone disappeared except Carmela. The red number she wore hugged every curve, and that little flash of skin on her right side made me want to peel off her clothes and lick every golden inch of her body. Her wavy brown hair brushed her breasts with every step. To top it off, her lips were painted ruby red, which made my mouth water and blood rush to my cock.
“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Shit is right,” he responded a grin spreading across his face. “I think I’ve changed my mind about trading places with you. She’d make a damn good ball and chain.”
I elbowed him in the gut and he grunted. “Go away. I don’t want to look at your ugly mug anymore tonight.”
He took a few steps back with his hands up, his smile bigger than seconds before. “Fine, I’m outta here. You know where to find me if you need me.”
“Hi, Konstantin,” Carmela said. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she surveyed the room. “I’ve never been here before. It’s an interesting place, that’s for sure.”
“You like it?”
“Um…” She angled her head and rolled her lips into her mouth. “Not so much.”
I splayed my hand over my chest. “No? I’m devastated. I was trying to impress you. Oh, and call me Kon. I don’t like people using my full name. It’s too formal.”
“So Kon…” She waved her hand toward the dance floor where a few couples twirled and shimmied to the music. “Are you planning to show me your moves?”
“No.” I downed the rest of my drink, savoring the burn. “We’re going downstairs, unless you want a drink first.”
She eyed the fruity cocktail adorned with fuchsia and turquoise umbrellas. “No, I’m good.”
I slotted my fingers through hers. They were cold to the touch and slightly shaky. “Then let’s get going.”
“Ah, excuse me.” I tightened my hand when she tried to break my hold. “What are you doing?”
“We’re dating. This is what couples do when they date.”
“We are?”
I tugged her against my side. “It’s part of the plan. Go with it,” I whispered against the crook of her neck, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against my lips and the ever-present hint of lemon in her hair.
She shuddered, then tipped up her chin and started walking again. “I already know I’m going to regret this.”
“Nah, this is gonna to be fun.”
My dad would shit when he realized I brought Carmela here. Gian had stolen a handful of our high rollers last year, which pissed him the fuck off. Unfortunately for him, he’d have to bite his tongue when it came to Carmela, and let the enemy roam freely in his kingdom because I was following his orders like a good little soldier.
He wouldn’t shut up about moving forward with my engagement with Carmela, and I was finally giving him what he wanted. I invited her into our den of iniquity. She could see firsthand what being tied to the Russian mafia meant. That alone might make her run screaming into the night. Although she had a brother and father elbow deep in the dealings of the Trassato crime family, there was no way either of them let her get anywhere near the action. They liked to keep their women in a bubble and blow sunshine up their asses until they ended up in prison or dead.
I nodded to the bouncer standing in front of the door to the basement, and he held up his hand.
“She on the list?”
Glaring, I released Carmela’s hand. “She’s with me.” I cracked my knuckles on one hand then the other.
“You know how Mr. Trincher is about sticking to the list. I’d hate to piss anyone off.”
I closed the distance, coming nose to nose with this punk. “Yeah, and I don’t give a shit. She’s with me, and that’s all that matters. Do I need to explain how things work around here? I have final say on the guests now, not my father.”
Over the last year, I’d taken over the gambling and black market export side of the business while my dad concentrated on the seedier stuff: drugs, particularly heroin, and human trafficking. After the shit that had gone down with Laney, I didn’t want anything to do with pushing drugs.
My dad wouldn’t give that up if he were on his deathbed. He loved playing God, war
ping futures, and ruining lives, and drug importing and pushing was where it all started for him. They were his roots. The other stuff—the more sophisticated crime and scams—came later. They were my brainchild. Where my dad was about muscle and pushing vices, I was about numbers and the chess game of outsmarting the system, finding loopholes, and exploiting weaknesses.
Groaning, he punched a code into the pad on the door and opened it. “Have a good night.”
“We will.”
CHAPTER SIX
Carmela
I paused at the foot of the stairs, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting and the plumes of smoke. The sickly sweet stench of cigars burned my lungs, the steady drum of music shook the floors beneath my feet, and the roar of conversation and laughter bombarded my ears.
Women clad in boy shorts with glittery star pasties on their breasts glided around the room carrying trays filled with drinks held high over their heads. But instead of the attention being focused on those women, it was on me. Greedy eyes crawled over me like I had unknowingly volunteered to be their next snack, and the hair on the back of my neck lifted.
“What’s this place?” I squeezed Kon’s upper arm, my fingernails digging into his rope-like muscles, so hard and firm.
My mind pleaded with me to take off. I wasn’t naïve. While my family had their hands in illegal gambling rackets and all sorts of other unsavory crap, I didn’t want to see it firsthand, and I definitely didn’t want to waste my Friday experiencing it.
His arm locked around my torso, his fingers landing on the bare skin near my waist. I clenched my teeth, willing my reaction to his touch away, yet for some godforsaken reason, goose bumps pebbled my skin.
“A place for the guys to let off steam after a long day of work.”
“I want to leave.” I shifted closer to him, plastering my front to his side. I’d crawl inside him if he’d let me. That’s how bad I didn’t want to be here.
