by Reilly, Cora
I nodded silently and quickly disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
When I walked into the kitchen thirty minutes later, Nino was chopping onions and occasionally checking his iPad, which was propped up on the counter.
“You can cook?” I asked in surprise.
“I wouldn’t say I can cook. But it’s not very difficult as long as you follow instructions.”
I stopped beside him. A recipe for a cheese omelet was open on his iPad and hash browns were cooking in a pan on the stove. It smelled delicious and the onions were chopped with the precision of a chef. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Why don’t you make another pot of coffee. My brothers will probably be coming down soon like hungry wolves. The smell of bacon will draw them out of their hibernation.”
As if on cue, the door swung open and Savio stumbled in, yawning, wearing only sweatpants. He didn’t greet us. Instead he sank down in a chair, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced between Nino and me. “You two cook together now? Nino’s been the only cook around here.”
“I’m not a good cook,” I said.
The door opened again, and Remo entered, dressed in only briefs, revealing those steely muscles and unsettling scars. He had an erratic air about him, which set alarms off in my body. “I need to have a talk with you two,” he said to Nino and Savio, grinning in a way that didn’t bode well.
My interactions with the scary Capo had been limited to dinners and the occasional breakfast.
“About what?” Nino asked as he flipped the omelet.
“Nothing I’m supposed to discuss in front of Kiara if I remember your lecture,” he bit out, dark eyes settling on me.
“I can go,” I said.
Nino shook his head. “It can wait until after breakfast.”
Remo’s expression made it clear that he disagreed, but as usual, he held back when I was around. I quickly ate my omelet before I excused myself to tinker with a new song.
NINO
Remo was unusually excited, even by his standards. He leaned back in his chair, lips pulling wide in a very dangerous way.
Savio raised an eyebrow, but I shook my head. I didn’t know what was going on.
“Kiara is gone. You can talk now,” I said.
Remo glanced down at his phone. “Wait a sec.”
Sometimes my brother drove me up the wall with his antics. Steps sounded in the corridor. A man. Adamo was in school, but given Remo’s relaxed stance, it could only be Fabiano.
The blond man shoved open the door and strode in, looking less than pleased about being here. “I have a full schedule of kicking debtors’ asses, Remo.” He nodded at us before he took the chair beside Savio. “What’s going on?” His eyes moved over to me.
I shook my head. “Remo hasn’t revealed anything yet.”
“I changed my mind about our plans,” Remo said.
“Regarding the Outfit attack?” I asked. I’d spend days trying to gather useful information about Scuderi’s weekly habits, upcoming social events he might have to attend. Now Remo decided to change our plans.
Fabiano propped himself up on his forearms, frowning.
Remo nodded with a wide grin. “Dante is a man of logic, like you Nino. He will expect us to target him, or Scuderi, or one of the other men in his family. But I won’t do it because history has proven that there’s no better way to demoralize your enemy than to target the people they are supposed to protect.” He paused, excitement flashing across his face. “Their women.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dante will have put every possible protection in place to make sure we don’t get anywhere near his wife or their children.”
He made a dismissive gesture and took out his phone then showed it to us.
On the screen was a young woman with blond hair and blue eyes, standing beside Dante Cavallaro. She had the same aloof expression on her face.
“Do you know her?”
“That’s Serafina,” Fabiano said slowly. “She’s Cavallaro’s niece.”
“You met her?”
“I used to play with her and her twin brother when we were little,” he said, his expression turning wary. “What’s your plan?”
Remo looked down on the screen with a twisted grin. “Her wedding to the Underboss of Indianapolis is scheduled for August first. I’ve always wanted to crash a wedding.”
Fabiano shook his head. “You want to waltz into Chicago and attack a wedding celebration? All the Captains and Underbosses will be there. Maybe we get in, but we won’t get out. Trust me on that, Remo.”
Remo chuckled. “No, we will attack the day before. The future bride will spend the night before her wedding in a hotel in Indianapolis with the women of her family. The men of the family will be at stag night. There will be only the usual guards.”
“Are you sure there won’t be additional safety measures in place?” I asked.
Remo raised his eyebrows at Fabiano, who shrugged.
“They won’t expect an attack like that. It’s never been done before. To disturb a wedding is regarded as somewhat sacrilegious by most members of the Outfit.”
Remo snorted. “Sacrilegious,” he said. “Dante attacked my territory. I will show them my version of sacrilegious. Don’t worry.”
“I told you before, it was my father’s doing,” Fabiano muttered. “We should try to get our hands on him and not a woman.”
Remo’s grin turned dangerous. “You will get him. I’m sure Dante will see reason and exchange him for his niece ... eventually. I will show him just how sacrilegious we are in Las Vegas.”
Fabiano grimaced. It was obvious that he didn’t like the idea, but he knew better than to argue with Remo when my brother was this excited about an idea.
“This is genius or insanity,” Savio said with a laugh. “Given that it’s your plan, Remo, it’s probably insanity.”
“I think I have a better plan,” I began. “It’ll send a more symbolic message. The bride will probably be taken to church from the hotel in a limousine. There will be even less people around. She will have her mother in the car with her, a bodyguard, and the driver, and perhaps one or two cars as a convoy. We can attack then. It would be absolutely dishonorable to do so, but we have always had our own interpretation of honor.”
Remo laughed darkly. “Nino, you are a fucking genius. The girl will already be in her wedding dress. We will steal a bride from under their noses, right before her wedding night. No better symbol than that.”
Fabiano shot me a look, but if he thought I had the power to stop Remo at this point, he hadn’t seen the way Remo looked at Cavallaro’s niece. Remo got up, obviously unable to sit still any longer.
“I’d prefer if we could keep that plan from my wife. It might trigger some images from her past that I don’t want to resurface.”
Remo waved me off, pacing the room like a caged tiger. His eyes focused on the image on his phone screen.
“If we attack Dante’s family, he will take war to a new level,” Fabiano said.
“I hope he does,” Remo murmured.
Two hours later, I found Kiara at the piano, her eyes closed, head tilted to the side as she played a melody she had been working on since she moved here. She never talked about her music, but I had a good ear. “I made time for gun training today,” I said.
She jerked upright, her dazed eyes zeroing in on me. Slowly, she stood. She wore one of her modest dresses that reached her knees, but even those clothes did nothing to hide the enticing swell of her breasts, her narrow waist, or soft curve of her hips.
“Where?” she asked curiously as she padded toward me on bare feet. To my surprise, her toes were painted red. It was a color I’d favor in her clothes as well.
“I set up a target in the garden.” I gestured at my gun holster. “And you have a selection of these guns or we could go down into the basement to our weapon room.”
She laughed then bit her lip. “I think one of your guns will do.”
<
br /> I led her outside to the west side of the gardens, and we stopped close to the target. “Have you ever held a gun?”
“No,” she admitted.
I shook my head. Growing up in the mafia, girls should learn how to handle guns from a young age. They were smaller and less muscular than men. Why add the disadvantage of being inept at using a gun? I handed Kiara my semi-automatic. It was easy to handle. She took it carefully, but her grip was all wrong. I moved around her and positioned myself behind her back. Her sweet perfume wafted into my nose. I’d never thought I’d like it, but Kiara obviously used a brand my senses favored. She glanced over her shoulder with a hint of shyness. I was glad that her facial expressions were slowly becoming less of a mystery to me. It made my life and her life indefinitely easier.
“Lift your arms and aim at the target.”
She did, but we had work to do. “I will adjust your hold and stance,” I explained. I touched her hips, and she stiffened, but I angled her the way I wanted her then moved on to her arms and pushed them down a couple of inches. I faced her again and corrected her fingers on the gun. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to stand in front of the barrel. What if I shoot you by accident?”
“You’d have to release the safety first. That would give me time to get out of the way.”
She drew her lower lip between her teeth again. It was awfully distracting. “I’m so clueless.”
“That’s why I’m here, to teach you all you need to know.” A delicate blush spread on her cheeks, but I couldn’t link an emotion to it.
I guided her hand for her first few shots to let her get accustomed to the recoil. She jumped every time the shot sounded, but eventually she seemed to enjoy herself and even laughed when she managed to hit the target without my help. It was satisfying to see her gain confidence.
CHAPTER 14
KIARA
Fabiano dropped Leona off at the mansion on his way to work. It was only the second time she was over in the four weeks since I’d moved to Las Vegas. Occasionally, we exchanged texts, though. I waited in the doorway as she kissed Fabiano in his Mercedes before she got out, and he drove off with a short wave at me.
Leona was dressed in jean shorts and a tank top. It was already uncomfortably warm outside. “Beautiful dress,” she said with a smile as she hugged me. It was one of my many maxi dresses. I wasn’t sure why I still hesitated to walk around in shorts. None of the Falcone men had made a move toward me, not even Nino.
“Thanks. I love your shorts.”
She glanced behind me. “Who’s on guard duty?”
I huffed. “Adamo. It’s the weekend, after all.”
“Mafia men are protective.”
“I hope one day I’ll be able to protect myself. I’ve had another gun lesson with Nino. I’m improving.”
“Fabiano has been trying to improve my self-defense skills for months now, but it’s such a slow process. And most of the time we end up making out ...” She trailed off, her skin turning red. “Sorry. TMI.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind.” I led her onto the patio. A large umbrella shaded the lounge furniture so we didn’t suffer a heat stroke in the midday sun. “I thought we could order sushi?”
“Oh yes.” She lifted her bag. “I brought a bikini. It’s going to be really hot. I thought we could take a swim in the pool later.”
Thirty minutes later, we were settled on the lounge chairs, plates of sushi spread out on the table in front of us. “When did you know that you wanted to be with Fabiano?” I asked, picking up a piece of avocado maki.
Leona considered the question, chewing thoughtfully. “You mean in a physical sense or in a relationship?”
“Both, I guess.”
“It was a gradual process. I was attracted to him from the start but also worried about getting close to him. Eventually, my heart and body won over my rationality.” She laughed.
“Sometimes I wonder how it would feel to be with Nino,” I blurted.
Leona put down the piece of sushi she was about to push into her mouth and blinked. “You haven’t been with Nino yet?”
I flushed. Should I have kept it a secret? Maybe Nino didn’t want others to know that he wasn’t the monster—no, didn’t act like the monster he was. But I needed to talk to someone about it, and Giulia was no longer an option because I was now part of the Camorra and she was part of the Famiglia. Truce or not, the families were enemies. Our phone calls had been a difficult task, telling her about my daily life without revealing any important information to her, and I could tell it was the same for her.
“No, I freaked out on him on our wedding night, and he hasn’t tried anything since then.”
Leona blinked at me. “Wow. Really?”
“Really. I told him to seek out other women if he needed to satisfy his needs.”
Leona shook her head with wide eyes. “And it doesn’t bother you? The mere thought that Fabiano could touch another woman makes me sick.”
“It didn’t in the beginning.”
“But now it does?”
I tried not to think about it, but when I did, it bothered me a lot. “Yes, it does. I actually enjoy spending time with Nino. He is calm and incredibly intelligent. He makes me feel like I’m safe around him. Is that weird?”
Leona frowned. “Well. I feel safe around Fabiano and most people are terrified of him, so I’m not the right person to ask.”
I dipped a piece of sushi into the soy sauce and put it in my mouth, chewing slowly to gather my thoughts. “I don’t know if I should even consider changing our relationship.”
“Talk to him. Tell him you would like to be with him. He probably won’t say no.”
He wouldn’t. “What if I can’t go through with it? What if the memories stop me again? Or what if Nino wants all or nothing. I’m not sure how far I can go just yet.”
“You won’t find out if you don’t talk to him. If he hasn’t pushed you yet, do you think he would do it after you ask him for more?”
I wasn’t sure. But if I got close to Nino, I needed him to stop seeking out other women, and I wasn’t sure if he’d agree to that as long as I wasn’t giving him what he needed. Why should he do this on my terms?
I was nervous all day because of my conversation with Leona, and even music hardly managed to set me at ease this time. My fingers kept stumbling over the notes, so I had to keep starting from scratch.
When Nino came home late in the afternoon, looking as beautifully cold as ever—dressed all in black, tall and muscled—and leaned against the piano to listen to me play, I finally gathered my courage. “I’d like to go out for dinner.”
His brows drew together. “Of course.”
“Just the two of us,” I blurted.
He regarded me calmly, his eyes searching my face. I wondered how much of my feelings he could guess and how much of them would always remain a secret to him. Sometimes it came as a relief that he had trouble reading emotions. “Tonight?”
My fingers stopped on the keys. “That would be lovely. But can you get a table that quickly?”
He chuckled, and I let out a small laugh, remembering who I was talking to. “Never mind.”
“What would you like to eat? Asian? European?”
“Asian. I haven’t eaten much of it yet except for sushi.”
“Then I’ll book a table at the best Szechuan restaurant in town.”
“What do I have to wear? Is there a dress code?”
Nino’s eyes trailed over me. “Something red.”
I blinked. That wasn’t the answer I had expected. “Why red?” I couldn’t imagine guests were required to wear a certain color, but this was Las Vegas and anything was possible.
“Because I think it will go well with your dark hair and honey skin. I want you to stand out, not blend in.”
I stared down at my arm. Nobody had ever described my skin as honey colored. A pleasing warmth settled in my chest. “I don’t have anything in red. Most of my
clothes are meant to make me blend in,” I said.
Nino nodded. “I got that.” He glanced down at his watch. “If we head out now, we can buy you something and still have enough time to return home and get ready, if I book the table at eight.” He didn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he picked up his phone, dialed a number, and two minutes later we had a table. Another customer would hear some kind of excuse why they wouldn’t be dining at Chengdu tonight.
“Come now,” Nino said, holding out his hand. I had to admit that I enjoyed his small touches. My hand in his didn’t feel as if it was caging me in or anything close to it. It made me feel safe.
I put my palm in his and followed him to his Bugatti Veyron. “Where are we going?” I asked as we pulled down the driveway.
“It’s a boutique where Fabiano occasionally buys dresses for Leona. From what he tells me, they have extravagant pieces. I’ve never been there. They don’t sell men’s clothing.”
I laughed nervously. “How much attention am I supposed to draw to us?”
“As much attention as you deserve, Kiara. You are too beautiful to lurk in the shadows. And as my wife, you will have to get used to the spotlight.”
My insides warmed at his compliment. He’d told me that he found me beautiful before, but it still felt wonderful to hear him say it again.
The store offered an overwhelming selection of dresses in all colors, and from the moment we entered, the saleswoman hovered around us like a mother hen. She kept throwing Nino nervous glances, obviously eager to please him, but, of course, his face gave nothing away.
“We’re looking for dresses in red,” he said, his palm still pressed lightly against my back.
“Oh, we have a few beautiful pieces in that color. Let me show you. Your wife will look absolutely stunning in them.”
Nino looked at me with a glint in his eyes. “That she will.”
I shivered, and again it wasn’t in fear. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but my body reacted to Nino in a way that was unsettling and exhilarating at once. We followed the woman back toward a secluded part of the boutique where the changing rooms were. “I’ll be back in a moment. Would you like something to drink?”