I twitch as Eric grabs my hand. “Stop chewing on your nails.”
I pout and swallow hard as we drive up before two huge cast-iron gates with two suit clad guards outside. They peek inside the car, nod at Eric, throw a curious glance at me, speak into some hidden device and then wave for us to pass.
As the gates slide closed behind us, a heavy sense of doom settles in me. What have I done? How did I end up here?
Eric parks a little to the side, kills the engine and then turns to look at me. “Ready, sweetheart?”
I flip down the sunshade, glance at myself in the vanity mirror one last time and sigh. “Let’s do it. You only die once, right?”
“You’ve already used up yours. Stay alive from now on.”
I take his hand and my mouth falls open as I take in the white two-story stone house, pillars adorning both sides of the long set of stairs that lead up to a heavy oak double door.
“Yeah, I plan to. My God, what a beautiful house.”
Eric squints against the afternoon sun, looking at the facade, then at me. “Yeah? Tell him that and he’ll love you from the get-go.”
A shudder ripples through me. I can live without Luciano Salvatore’s love, or hate, or even knowledge that I exist. I don’t want to meet this monster who wanted me dead. Can I really be sure that’s not still on his agenda? Eric has patiently told me over and over that I’m good, that he’s forgiven my transgressions against his organization. I could punch him for that expression alone. What about his transgressions on my whole life?
We don’t even have to knock at the door. It swings open soundlessly, and yet another huge man, butler, or bodyguard, I don’t know, greets us with a curt nod.
“Good evening, Ivan,” says Eric. “This is Miss Anna Raymond. She’s with me.”
“Miss Raymond.” He gives me a nod, but not his hand. “Welcome.”
“Thank you,” I say, remembering how to behave, deciding that whatever happens I’m here now and I’ll just have to make the best of it. I fire off a smile, and am rewarded with nothing but a stone face, then Eric takes my hand and guides me inside.
I gawk at the large, bright hallway with its curved stairs, the crystal chandeliers, the marble floor, the open, double glass doors at the far end leading into a seemingly endless row of gigantic rooms. Someone is flaunting their wealth, but I’ve never set foot in anything so fancy before. There are sounds of laughter and conversations from deeper inside the house, but Eric steers us to a deep brown ornamented door to the right. Outside it stands yet another man in black.
“Is he in?”
The man doesn’t answer but knocks on the door. A faint ‘enter’ is heard and he swings it open. Eric clasps my hand harder and I realize that this is it. My heart rate nearly doubles, and my chest tightens.
We step into yet another large room. It feels warm and inviting with its heavy bookshelves covering almost all the wall space, a few paintings, little lamps, a huge oriental carpet, leather armchairs spread in little groups, and at its center a large wooden desk.
Behind it sits a man, leaned back, his feet on the desk and his legs crossed at the ankles. His hands are clasped in his lap, intense black, and slightly hooded eyes fixate on us. Well, fixate on Eric. I feel as if I’m air. As we approach, he turns his gaze on me, and it’s like an electric shock shoots through me and I suddenly wish I was air. I had never imagined Luciano Salvatore so devastatingly handsome. I think of his two nephews, Christian and Nathan and their striking features, one ruggedly so, the other just ridiculously good-looking. What’s with the genes in this family? Salvatore’s got wavy hair that falls in unruly tresses on the sides of his creased forehead, a slightly crooked, proud Roman nose, full lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed, short beard. When he smiles, a set of wrinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. I realize I’m gaping and snap my mouth closed.
“Anna Raymond,” he says warmly and spreads his arms as he stands and rounds the desk. He grips my shoulders and kisses my cheeks, then his grip remains, tight, a tad rough. “I’m so happy to welcome you to the family.”
I have so many things I want to say in that moment. Like how I’m sure he is very ‘happy’. Or that he’d rather have thrown the last shovel of dirt over my coffin. But I clamp down on my inner snarkiness and force a nervous smile.
“Mr. Salvatore, pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” Oh fuck. That didn’t come out right. That can be interpreted in way too many unfavorable ways.
He barks out a laugh, lets me go and glances at Eric. “She’s heard about me. Imagine that. Cute one. I see the appeal. Welcome both. We’ve spent all day in church. Had a christening of the latest addition to the family. That was boring as fuck. Priest and I go way back. He never liked me. I can’t understand why. He always pales when he sees me. I mean, you are supposed to confess your sins, right?”
Salvatore laughs at his own joke and then waves us off without another word.
I stand frozen until Eric tugs at my sweaty hand. Salvatore holds my gaze, and I can’t tear my eyes off his. He looks so much more friendly than I had ever imagined.
As the door closes behind us, I sag, and realize how tense I’ve been.
“Don’t let him fool you, Anna. He’s a psychopath. He can charm the pants off anyone and then turn on them the next second, when their guard is down.”
“You don’t like your boss very much, do you?”
“He’s a fucking snake. But I owe him my life. It’s as simple as that.”
“You gotta give me more of that story someday, make me understand how he can make someone so unflinchingly loyal.”
“Oh baby, I’m not. If I was, you’d be dead.”
A shudder runs through me. “So you went against his orders?”
“I did.”
“For me?”
“Yes.” He squeezes my hand. “Because you have my heart, Anna. Please be careful with it.”
I rise on my toes and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Always.”
Eric smiles and circles his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. “Let’s go meet the family.” He steers us toward the noises, and it does sound friendly, warm, like people having a good time.
“You consider them family even though you’re not related?”
“Both yes and no. I grew up alongside these people. They mean a lot to me. I’ll never feel like one of them, though.”
“That’s sad.”
“I’ve always been an outsider. It’s suited me. Until I met you.”
I slap him lightly on the shoulder. “You smooth talker.”
He grins. “Is it working?”
“Yes. How long do we have to stay?”
“Too long.”
We enter a large ballroom, one whole wall with floor to ceiling windows, with a view of a spectacularly well-maintained garden. The room is full of people. I spot Christian, standing alone to the side, a tumbler in his hand with an amber liquid in it that he keeps staring at as he swirls the content. He looks dark, aloof, a toothpick being pushed back and forth between the corners of his mouth. When he looks up and meets my eyes, he tilts his head in a curt nod, then looks down again. I glance at Eric, unsure how to interpret the interaction, but he’s busy looking over the crowd.
In the center of attention stands Nathan Russo with a petite auburn-haired woman by his side holding an infant dressed in a long, white gown, fluffy, with lots of lace, and a little cap to go with it. Nathan looks like he’s in full alpha male mode, very protective of what I understand is his little family. Around them, with champagne flutes in their hands, stand three people; an elderly woman, her gray hair tied back in a painful-looking tight bun, and two men in their thirties. A couple of children run around everybody’s legs, seemingly cared for by no one. Further off are several men who I immediately feel are not family members, as well as a couple of groups of women, their faces frozen from Botox and fillers, their dresses revealing, bordering vulgar, their heels high and expensive-looking. I feel like
a boring rat in this loud, flamboyant crowd. I want to flee but follow obediently as Eric pulls me toward the group in the center of the room.
They part and let us in amongst them.
“Eric,” says the older woman. She’s got the same nose as Salvatore, elegantly arched eyebrows and the same pitch black, penetrating stare. “And this might be?” She turns to me. I inhale to speak, but Eric beats me to it.
“This is Anna.”
She grabs my hand with both of hers, her grip strong. “Anna. I’ve heard so much about you.”
I smile and glance at Eric. Help!
“Anna, this is Mama Russo, Bianca, the matron of the Russo clan. The mother of all the handsome fuckers around you. She’s also the older sister of Luci.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, my mouth dry.
She holds my hands but turns to Eric. “You and I need to have a word about language.”
He laughs and turns to Nathan and the lady next to him. Mrs. Russo lets go of my hand, which feels numb after her firm grip.
“You have met Nathan. This is the lovely Sydney Lewis-Russo and their offspring Ava. Ava was christened today into the belief there’s an invisible deity they have to confess all their sins to.”
I nod at Nathan and give Sydney my hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m sorry about Eric, I haven’t house trained him yet.”
Nathan and Eric look at each other and laugh. Sydney, however, gives me a warm look and a smile plays at her lips. “I have a feeling, Anna, that you and I are gonna have a lot to discuss.”
I grin and look up at Eric, who shakes his head, trying to look stern, but failing terribly. He clears his throat. “Anyway. These young fellas are Matteo and Luca Russo.”
One Christian lookalike, but not as tall, and one man my age, looking like a younger, and not as jaded Salvatore, turns to me and shakes my hand.
The younger presents himself as Luca. “So this is the infamous Anna. I heard you escaped death. Narrowly. Quite a few times. And here you are, in the wolf’s den. I don’t know if I should congratulate you or call you stupid.”
I gape. “Well, nice to meet you too.”
The older of the two pushes the younger to the side. “I’m gonna whip some sense into him, I promise. I’m Matteo. Welcome to the family. You are brave, though—” he gives Eric a brief glance. “I’ll give you that.”
A series of claps from behind us has everybody going silent and turning toward the noise. There stands Salvatore, his hands together.
“Dinner is served, good people. I welcome you to my table for an evening full of amazing food, and great surprises.”
His eyes dart to me and I take half a step behind Eric, squeezing his hand harder. I do feel like I’ve walked into a wolf’s den, just like Luca said.
Everybody moves through the room and into an adjacent dining room with a long, wide table, set with gold-rimmed plates, several sets of forks and knives, crystal glasses, flower arrangements, and every chair clad in white fabric with white bows tied around their backs.
“It’s not usually this level of tacky,” Eric whispers in my ear. “Bianca is behind this. For the christening.” He rolls his eyes and I stifle a giggle. It is totally over the top, I agree.
Eric steers us to a couple of chairs, placing me between Christian and himself. Next to Eric, on the other side, sits one of the women I haven’t greeted yet. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She hasn’t met my gaze, and I can’t seem to catch her attention. She looks hardened, blasé. My stomach clenches. She’s the epitome of how I envisioned being a mafia wife would be. I look at Eric and warmth fills my chest. He wouldn’t want me to be that, would he? What we have is different.
Opposite me is Bianca Russo, flanked by her two younger sons. I’m shy to meet either of their gazes. I don’t know what they think of me. My entrance into their sphere is unusual, to say the least.
At the top of the table sits Salvatore, looking us over, his subordinates, his kingdom. He clinks a knife against a glass, then he stands.
“Everybody, family—” he looks us over, the ones sitting closest to him, “friends and associates. I have the pleasure of introducing not only one, but two new family members today.” His face softens significantly as he looks at Sydney and the baby. “Little Miss Ava. We are so happy to have you with us. Nathan, my deepest condolences to all the sleepless nights ahead.” Everybody laughs but I think it’s a shitty welcome. Then he pins me with his gaze, and I shrink back. “And Anna. The young woman who snared the eternal bachelor Eric Reed. It’s no secret you were on top of my to do-list not so long ago, but I was convinced otherwise.” He shoots Nathan a short glance, and Nathan in turn looks at Eric. I don’t know what the exchange is about, but I have a feeling something went down between them. Salvatore spreads his arms. “Welcome to the family, La Famiglia. We will make sure Eric does right by you. He has a rep, but I’m sure you know all about that already.”
I look at my plate, aghast, my cheeks heating up. What a pig that man is. Eric puts a hand on my thigh, squeezing it a little. I look up again and give Salvatore a dirty look. He winks and raises his glass.
“A toast to a family I hope will keep growing.”
Everybody obediently raises their glasses. The champagne is delicious, dry, slightly fruity, the tiny bubbles tickling my palate. Expensive as hell, I bet.
Christian turns to me and speaks for the first time since we got here. “Don’t mind him. He likes to rattle people. It’s not just you, he does that to everyone. He’s an ass, but you do want to stay on his good side, so bottle up whatever it is you’re feeling and put a cork in it. You’ll be good, Anna. You’re feisty. He likes feisty, but it also means he’s gonna come at you more to see when you break. Just remember what I told you. At all times. Don’t fight back.”
I stare at him, my heart speeds up. “Thank you, Christian,” I say with numb lips. “Any tip on how I’ll survive this evening?”
“Stick to Eric. He’ll take care of you.”
I want to ask him more, but he drains his glass and waves for a waiter to refill it, drains it too and gets yet another refill. He’s clearly lost interest in me.
From across the table I see Bianca glaring daggers, but it’s as if everyone is tiptoeing around Christian, even his own mom.
“Bianca!”
Her head snaps to Salvatore at his harsh tone. My eyes dart between them. I find it unbelievable he’d talk like that to his older sister. But the whole man is unbelievable, so why not.
“Yes, Luci, dear.”
“Where is our little Angel?”
Bianca stiffens noticeably. “Angela couldn’t make it. She had an exam.”
“Funny, that,” says Salvatore. “She’s a very busy young lady, isn’t she? I’ll need to see her soon, Bianca. Have a little get together. Maybe I should go to her, what do you think? Visit her in New York, buy her dinner, have a little chat about her future.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate a visit from her uncle greatly.”
Even I hear that something is off.
“What’s that about?” I whisper to Eric.
“Angela is the youngest Russo. She’s also the only one who has half a decent brain and doesn’t want anything to do with the business.”
I look at Bianca and Salvatore again, fascinated by the exchange, by the undercurrents between everyone in the room. It’s as if everyone is tied to Luciano Salvatore with invisible strings, and now I’m tied up too.
We’re served an elaborate assortment of antipasti, enough to be a whole meal in itself. I count the forks to judge how much I should eat. Four. Plus dessert. Everybody dives in and it is delicious.
“So, Anna. What is it you do?” Luca asks from across the table, as he reaches for his wine.
“Well… Not much right now. I went to law school, but I’ve barely practiced.”
“Really? What did you focus on? I’m in law myself.”
“Criminal…” I look around me, before I give him a sheepish smi
le and a half-shrug. “And finance.”
“Yeah? You could be a real asset, Anna. You should talk to Salvatore about that.”
I shoot the man a glance and realize he’s heard his name. “Uncle!” shouts Luca. “She’s a real catch, this one.” He reaches out and points at me for the whole table to see. I want to sink under the chair.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“What’s up, honey?” asks Eric and leans in, his eyes darting between me and Luca.
“I was interrogating your girlfriend. Seems like she’s a keeper. And useful. Good thing you didn’t kill her.”
“Oh my God,” I say. “I don’t think they heard you at the other end of the table.”
“Don’t mind him,” Eric says. “He’s got too much of Salvatore in him to ever be anything but a total dickhead.”
“Love you too, bro.” He directs his deep brown gaze at me. “Your man is the real monster in the club. You’d be better off with me. Up for a switch?”
Eric darts up and grabs his collar only to wince when Bianca grabs his ear as well as Luca’s, twisting them. From the Salvatore end of the table comes a deep, rich laugh. I think that man thrives on chaos.
“Sit down, boys,” Bianca hisses, “and behave. I’m sorry, Anna. They need a firm hand. You’ll learn.”
I shake my head, more amused than bothered. They might be mafia, lethal, big piles of muscle and all alpha, but they’re really also just like kids.
“Eric,” I say sternly, “you and I will talk later.”
“Oooh, I’m trembling.”
I slap his shoulder. “You should, you Neanderthal!”
Bianca gives me a wink, and something inside me softens. I feel accepted. She’s definitely the hardest nut to crack. Well, apart from the boss himself, of course, but I don’t expect to ever try. She’s got all these men under her boot. I don’t know what her secret is, but I’m sure as hell gonna learn if I’ll survive here. It might even be fun.
Somewhat.
The rest of the dinner is a little more civilized. Luca and I talk law school, and he manages to make me a little tempted to practice again, despite swearing the whole business off. But times have changed. My life has changed. I’m not the same girl I was a year ago.
Russo Saga Collection Page 45
