Kristine’s eyes shot to Emilio, the heartbreak of losing the love of his life etched in his features. Pulling the chain from around her neck, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Vittorio, here…” Extending her hand to him, the chain dangled between her fingers.
“No, Kristine,” Emilio raised his hand. “Please, let Gino continue and then decide.”
Nodding her head, Kristine pulled her hand away, laying the ring on the table between them.
“Once you fell asleep, I had an associate of mine who works for a laboratory come in and take several swabs from the inside of your cheek.”
Kristine’s tongue immediately went to her cheek, examining the area for any abnormalities.
“A few years ago, my friend Emilio found himself in an interesting situation involving a young lady who claimed her child was his. While the baby’s DNA was not a match,” Gino reached inside his jacket pocket pulling out a sheet of paper, the information which had plagued him since he’d learned the truth. “Yours was.”
Kristine felt overwhelmed and elated at the same time. Gino held her hand, slowly drifting his thumb across her knuckles. Emilio wanted to hug her, to make sure she was real, but he knew his eagerness would scare her.
Staring at the block lettering, the truth of who she was reflected back at her. “I never knew who my mother was, Granny said I favored her.”
“The eyes,” Emilio added, unable to resist. Nicole’s blue eyes were the first thing that caught his attention.
“Yes,” Kristine agreed, pleased to hear the hint of joy in Emilio’s voice.
“Your Nona was right. Nicole, your mother had the most vibrant blue eyes, just like yours. Her hair was the color of the night,” shifting a glance in Gino’s direction. “I loved her from the first moment I saw her.” Emilio picked up the ring from the table, “I gave her this ring on our wedding night. Something my father, and his father before him, did for their wives.”
“Can I ask what happened…to my mother?”
Emilio reached for his glass of wine, downing the red liquid in a single swallow. Never in his life did he think he would have to have this conversation.
“Shortly after Jonathan returned from Sicily, someone began sending threats to myself and your mother. At first, I assumed it was someone who had an issue with us, but when I put out the word for a sit-down, no one responded.” Emilio recalled how Jonathan sent his younger brother, Johnny, and Saul, a guy the three of them grew up with, out into the neighborhood to ask questions.
“The notes shifted to photographs of Nicole going about her day. That’s when I took things seriously, sending her away with a man who’d worked for us for years. I gave him instructions to hide her where no one old find them. When he failed to check-in, I knew something was wrong. By the time I got to the house, they were gone. I’ve searched for years, for any trace of her and Morti Rizzoli.”
Kristine’s breath hitched, reaching across the table for her father’s hand. “Wait, did you say Morti Rizzoli?”
“Yes, did you know him?” Elation filled his chest, if he could find Morti, he felt certain Nicole wasn’t far away.
“No, but when I was doing some work for Sully, I came across a box full of checks.” Reaching for her purse, Kristine chose to avoid mentioning the rest of story. Now that her suspicions of Gino’s occupation were confirmed, there was no point letting him know what she saw him do with the safes in her apartment.
Sliding the handful of checks across the table between the men. “I’ve counted over three hundred checks made out to Morti Rizzoti. All varying in amounts, with no consistency on the occurrence. But they are all signed by this man, Saul Mastone.”
Gino muttered a curse in Italian, leaning back in his seat. “Anything else, Kristine?”
“Yes,” she spoke timidly, not understanding what Gino said, but knowing it wasn’t good based on how deep his brow was bent. “I found a handful of envelopes addressed to Mr. Rizzoti. For whatever reason, the post office returned them.”
Emilio took the top envelope, examining the return address and the date of the postmark. “Recognize this address?”
Gino tried to recall the location but came up empty. “No, should I?”
Emilio felt a world of relief in Gino’s denial. “This is an apartment in Queens, one your grandfather won in a poker game from my father, who turned it into a place to keep his mistress. With your mother remaining in Sicily, your father had no real use for it. But it appears Saul did.”
Kristine tuned out the conversation the moment the word mistress was uttered, focusing instead on the one check on the table facing in her direction. She’d heard from practically everyone who knew Gino of his promiscuous nature. She didn’t need the temptation of constantly driving to Queens to check up on him.
“Kristine?” Gino yelled, snapping his fingers in her face “Hey, are you okay? I called your name three times.”
Shaking the fog from her mind, Kristine leaned back in her chair. “Yes, I’m sorry…” she trailed off, her mind lingering on the numbers at the bottom of the check. Reaching into the bottom of her purse, she pulled out her wallet. “I haven’t found time to research a bank, and without a permanent address, I’d nearly forgotten about this check.” Unfolding the paper in her hand, Kristine reached for the canceled check on the table. Laying them parallel she checked the account numbers. “That’s impossible.”
Emilio was out of his seat and around the table before Gino, his arm protectively around his daughter, reading the numbers over her shoulder.
“It’s been laundered.” Emilio stood to his full height, slamming his index finger on the check addressed to his daughter.
“Laundered? Like dirty clothes?”
Gino ignored Kristine’s question, picking up the check and holding it up to the light. “Where did you get this, babe?”
“A man brought it to my granny’s funeral.”
“Did you know this man?”
“No. He said it was for an insurance policy she took out for me.” Kristine didn’t care for the look on Gino’s face or the way he kept flipping the check around. “You’re scaring me, Gino. Why are the numbers on my check the same as the ones for Morti Rizzoli?”
Kneeling beside Kristine’s chair, Gino placed a kiss to her cheek, brushing his thumb along the bottom of her lip.
“Listen to me, Kristine.” Gino pleaded, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers. “The numbers are the same because whoever gave you this check knew the minute you attempted to cash it, the authorities would have been called, and taken you to jail for fraud.”
“Fraud?” Kristine’s eyes grew wide, terror robbing her of the ability to defend herself. She didn’t want to imagine what Gino would do to her if he suspected she was involved.
“Babe, I can see the fear in your eyes, but you have nothing to worry about. While everything you’ve shown me has thrown me a hell of a curveball, your father and I have a good idea who’s behind this.”
Kristine let out the breath she was holding, a relieved tear threatening to fall, but she quickly wiped it away.
“I need you to do me a favor, Kristine.”
“Anything,” she agreed immediately.
“As much as Emilio and I want to announce to the world he has a daughter and you’re more than a passing fancy for me, we need to keep this between us.”
Shadows of doubt began to cloud the happy moment, Kristine chanced a glance in Emilio’s direction.
“Hey, this changes nothing between us, I was attracted to you before tonight, and now I’m infatuated. I love you, Kristine.” Gino rushed, pulling her face back to his.
Searching Gino’s eyes, her heart felt heavy, but she nodded in agreement anyway. “If you think this is best.”
“I’m sorry, Kristine. But for now, we need to keep this quiet.”
Struggling to keep her doubts hidden, Kristine sat with her hands in her lap as she and Emilio exchanged conversation.
“We didn’t talk about my mother; it made
my granny sad. She once told me my father, or rather you, couldn’t be with her, so I assumed you were dead.”
Kristine recalled the way the kids at school would tease her for having no parents. Granny would hug her and tell her better to have them happy in heaven than hating each other here on earth as the parents of her classmates did.
“A huge part of me did die after I couldn’t find her. I never imagined she was pregnant, or how beautiful my daughter would turn out to be.”
“Wow, this is a lot to take in. Here I was excited to have dinner with my boyf…” Kristine stopped herself, while Gino tossed around the L-word, he’d also asked her to hide their relationship.
“Boyfriend is right,” Gino finished for her. “At least for now. Which brings me to the second reason I wanted to speak with the two of you.”
Holding out his hand for Kristine’s, Gino could almost feel her slipping away. “You heard Felicia the other day, trying to remind me how my father wanted her and I to be married.”
How could she forget? Kristine thought to herself, choosing to nod her head instead of rehashing the conversation.
“Well, she was half right. My father wanted me to marry a Vittorio, and I’ve dug my heels in, flat out refusing to marry Felicia. Until now she’d been the only option. Now, we have proof there is a rightful heir. One I very much want to get to know better, and one day, with her father’s permission, I’d like to marry.”
“You mean, me?”
“Yes, Kristine, I know this is a lot to absorb, and I don’t want you to think you have to accept any of this.”
“Gino’s right,” Emilio added. “Except for one other person, no one else knows about this. I agree with Gino, we should keep it that way until—"
“Why?” Kristine interrupted her father. “If what you say is true and you know who is behind this, why not go to the police and have them arrested?”
The words were out of her mouth before she could think them through. Both Gino and Emilio shared a look before bursting into laughter.
“We police our own, Kristine. Unfortunately, the individual responsible for sending the photos of your mother was never found.”
As Gino helped Kristine with her coat, Emilio reached into his pocket for his money clip. He’d seen the size of the check and while he knew Gino had her in one of his apartments, he wanted to do everything he could for his daughter, including giving her all the money she would ever need.
“I want to get to know you…”
The sound of tires screeching against the pavement silenced him, his attention on the dark car approaching from his left.
Kristine followed his gaze as something hard hits her from her right side, slamming her to the wet sidewalk. Chaos roared in her ears, the sound of men shouting, and several popping sounds, echoed down the street. Shattering glass rained down around her.
Strong hands pulled her over, Gino’s dark eyes staring down at her, his body heavy on hers. At first, she can see his mouth move, but no sound. Slowly the haze cleared and she can make out what he’s saying.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so,” she admitted, as Gino pulled her into a seated position. Dazed, she looked around, car alarms were blaring on the street as several of Gino’s, and who she assumes are Emilio’s men, race up and down the block, their cellphones pressed their ears, screaming profanities. Moving her focus back to Gino, she found him barking onto a cellphone with one hand, a black gun clenched in the other.
A grown from behind her gained her attention. Her heart sank to the ground as she took in Emilio’s body slumped against the wall, his head lopped to his chest, three red stains growing on his chest.
23
“Hold on,” Gino whispered into his phone as he untangled himself from Kristine. He’d held her until she fell asleep, her rosary clutched in her right hand. He’d forbade her going to the hospital, his reasoning of being seen there when she had no reason to be, falling short.
Closing the bedroom door behind him, “What do we know, Niko?”
“We found the car abandoned not far from the restaurant, the VIN stripped and the interior wiped clean. Whoever did this wasn’t an amateur.”
Gino speared his fingers into the crown of his head, his eyes landing on his shirt draped over the back of a chair, Emilio’s blood covering it.
“Who’s on your shortlist?”
“No one I can prove,” Niko huffed. Gino silently agreed with the frustration wrapped around Niko’s clipped response. His gut feeling was his father’s death and the attempt on Emilio were connected.
“What’s the word on Vittorio?”
Blowing out a breath, Gino headed across the room to the bar, pouring himself a healthy amount of whiskey. “He made it out of surgery, three bullets to the chest and one to his thigh. He lost a lot of blood, but if he survives the next forty-eight hours, he stands a chance of pulling through.”
Gino didn’t want to think what would happen to Kristine if Emilio died. She was strong as fuck, but with the recent death of her Nona, and finding her father and then losing him, he wasn’t so sure.
“I hear you have a new house guest,” Niko snorted, taking far too much pleasure in his misery. Shortly after Emilio went into recovery, Felicia called Gino demanding he offer her protection as the moment the news was released, Carmine, Emilio’s brother, and his wife Loretta jumped into their car and spread off into the night, presumably headed for one of the safe houses.
“The only female Vittorio I’m interested in protecting, is asleep in the next room. Her cousin is sitting in the house she claimed she wanted to be the lady of, surrounded by a few of the men her uncle has on his payroll.”
“You may never get her out.” Niko joked, having seen Felicia in more than one of her tantrums when she failed to get her way.
“As soon as she figured out I wasn’t living there, she blew up my phone, begging me to get over there and protect her,” Gino smirked, filling his glass again. “I’m putting it on the market as soon as the dust settles. She can annoy the new owners for all I care.”
“Are you sure about this, Giovanni? If what you say is true about a life with Kristine, don't you need a home to bring her to?
Tossing back his second drink, “I have a childhood of bad memories in that fucking house. The last thing I want is to bring Kristine to a place even I don’t want to go back to.”
Reaching across the bed, Kristine searched for her phone, the annoying alarm pulling her from a fit-full sleep. Dangling her feet over the edge of the bed, she looked out to the city beyond her window. Somewhere, out in the masses of people, was the individual responsible for shooting her father. Had he been the target all long and not her mother?
A white cup filled with steaming liquid appeared before her, as a strong arm pulled her back against a solid body. “Good morning, beautiful,” Gino’s deep voice sounded in her ear, followed by the softness of his lips on her bare shoulder.
“Thank you,” she looked down to the cup. “But I don’t drink coffee.” She admitted before returning her gaze to the street below.
“I know, sweetheart. This is tea.”
Spinning in his arms, “How did you know?”
Handing her the cup, “I know lots of things about you. Like you love tea and hate coffee. How you prefer white wine over red. You like your steaks rare, and your pork chop a little pink in the middle. You order a salad instead of soup and you hate ham.”
Gino backed her against the pane of the glass, placing a kiss the spot on her neck which made her squirm.
“You like chocolate and nuts, but not together.” Gino kissed her again, trailing his lips along her jaw and back to her lips. “And I know you’re willing to sacrifice everything important to you so someone else can be happy.”
Kristine pushed at his chest, setting the cup of tea on the bedside table. “I used to put other's happiness before mine, but not anymore. Not after I moved to New Jersey.”
Pushing passed him, Kristin
e headed for her closet but was stopped when Gino tugged at her arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get dressed,” Kristine pointed in the direction of her closet. “I have to be at work in a little over an hour.”
“You’re not going to work, it’s too dangerous.”
“What’s too dangerous? You said it yourself, I sacrifice for others. Besides, no one but you and my father know who I am, and neither of you are going to give up that information.”
Gino studied Kristine’s face, her determination and defiant nature something she inherited from Emilio. He was fighting a battle he had no chance of winning. “Fine, but we do this my way.”
Two hours later, Kristine stood behind her desk, staring at the pile of pearls and diamonds Nina laid before her with excitement bubbling out of every pore.
“Isn’t it to die for?” Nina squealed with delight, her eyes wide and hands clasped beneath her chin, bouncing on the balls of her feet despite the six-inch heels she wore.
“What in the world is it?”
Snatching the strand off the desk, “It’s panties, you idiot.” Nina held them up in the air between them.
Studying the design, “Why in the world would you want diamonds on your crotch and pearls running up your butt?”
Huffing, Nina lowered the panties. “When you wear these, your natural walk creates friction against your clit, making you horny as fuck. The pearls rub your asshole, helping to loosen you up back there.”
“Why would you want your…” Kristine hesitated, not sure she wanted the answer. “Butt loosened up?”
Pocketing the panties, “So you’re ready when the guy your fucking wants to stick his dick in your ass.”
Trying to hide her surprise, Kristine’s butt cheeks clenched. While she wasn’t ignorant on that form of sex, she wasn’t going to beg Gino for it either.
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 17
