Merciless Queen: A Dark Mafia Romance (Varasso Brothers Book Book 4)

by Sophia Reed

Stacy

  There was something to having a choice to ignore something versus having it ignore you. At least, when Gabriel was calling incessantly, I could ignore him and act like I was making a really responsible decision not to cavort with him when I knew I wanted to. After that day I saw him after lunch with Mira, he stopped calling. It’d been just over three weeks, and I hadn’t heard from him at all. I also think I realized how definite it was. If he wasn’t contacting me and I wasn’t contacting him, then didn’t that effectively mean that was it, we were finished? At any point, I could have responded to a text or answered a call. At any point, I could have thrown caution to the wind and decided that nothing was worth being apart from him, especially on Mira’s claim that I didn’t fall in love easily. If the door was still open, I could walk through it when I wished. Now it felt like the door was closed in spite of my desire to know what awaited me on the other side.

  I’d risked watching the documentary, and subsequently decided it was bullshit. I knew that people sometimes had the ability to hide their true selves, and I’d even seen that there were pieces of Gabriel buried beneath the surface of his innocent, stressed existence, but he wasn’t the man that documentary claimed he was. Maybe he was a Varasso—some research had proved as much—but any detailed account I could find of the stories referenced on the series varied significantly from what the documentary suggested, and none of them included Gabriel. He wasn’t just so sneaky that he wasn’t getting caught. He was staying out of it, exactly as he’d said. I didn’t know what I hoped to gain from proving that to myself. He still was part of a crime family that was very dangerous, but I wanted more than anything to believe Gabriel wasn’t a bad guy, and I knew now that he wasn’t.

  So, did that make it my turn to extend an olive branch? He’d made so many attempts to fix things with me that maybe he just got fed up and dropped it. The door was closed, but I could hope and pray it wasn’t locked.

  I jumped a little at the sound of my phone ringing. I managed to convince myself that it was Gabriel, having heard my wishes from across space and silent brooding, so I was that much more disappointed when my phone screen said Nicky was calling instead. I imagined the tall, tan-skinned, black-haired, green-eyed guy I’d gone out with about a week prior. He was the third in a string of guys I’d attempted to date to get Gabriel out of my system. Nicky was the only one I slept with, so he was the only one who wasn’t taking my ghosting as easy as the earlier two. I let the phone ring until the blaring went silent. A minute or two passed, and a notification pinged, notifying me of a voicemail.

  “Hey, Stace. It’s Nicky. Listen, I know that I’m probably doing a little too much here. I get that. I’m not actually calling to try and get you to go out with me again. I just have some friendly advice to offer. Whatever guy is stuck on you, he’s the one you’re meant to be with. I know it sounds stupid, for someone to call you up out of the blue and tell you to go for a different guy after sleeping with you. Please take no offense. I had an amazing time with you. If I didn’t think you were so hung up on your ex, I’d be sending you flowers every day trying to get you. I let a girl go, probably the one I should have married, so I know what it feels like, trying to scrub off your own skin. Don’t be dumb, okay? If he didn’t cheat on you or something crazy, and I can’t imagine you’d be stuck on him like this if he did, just do what you have to do to make it work. From one broken heart to another. Call me up if you wanna get a drink some time, as friends, of course. Bye.”

  The line clicked off, and I just stared at my phone quietly. Trying to scrub off your own skin. That’s what it felt like, trying to get Gabriel out of my mind. It wasn’t that he latched onto me somehow. It was like his presence turned on the light in a room I didn’t know I had, and turning the light off didn’t matter because I knew the room was there now. Nothing belonged in that room except Gabriel.

  I’d heard people say that they fell in love at first sight, but I always thought it was retrospective. It’s a nice thing to think after you’ve fallen in love, that the first time you saw them you knew, but it wasn’t true, it was just a cool sentiment. What I was rapidly discovering, whether or not I wanted to accept it, was that sometimes people did fall in love at first sight. Maybe I was living, breathing proof that the less you believe in something, the more likely it is to happen to you.

  I had to contact Gabriel. At least if I tried and nothing came of it, I could try my hardest to put it behind me. The only issue was that so much time had passed. Why would I be calling him now after not reaching out for three weeks? I didn’t want to scare him away, not that a former one-night-stand unable to let things go was scarier than a mob prince.

  I sat in silence for a moment, trying to ponder a good enough reason when it smacked me. I first met Gabriel at my business, so that was my in. I opened a new text to Gabriel and started to type with professionalism and intent.

  Hello, Gabriel.

  Shit. No. Gabriel? Gabe? Mr. Varasso? If I was pretending to just be making a service call, some more formality was required. I erased that and started again.

  Hello Mr. Varasso.

  Nope, that’s dumb. He knows that we’re more than just a service and client. We fucking slept together. I can at least use his name. I tried once more.

  Hello Gabriel.

  I noticed on your paperwork that

  it’s been about three weeks since

  your last session. Given your

  state last I

  I? Or should I say we like the business? “Knock it off, Stacy!” I yelled at myself.

  Hello, Gabriel.

  I noticed on your paperwork that

  it’s been three weeks since

  your last session. Given the

  state last I saw you in, it would

  probably do you some good to

  have a follow-up session. Let

  me know when you’re available,

  and I can get something on my

  schedule.

  “That totally sounds professional,” I assured myself out loud. I was reading over the text, contemplating whether or not it made more sense to just call when a text came in from my mom. It made me jump and, by accident, I hit send.

  “Well, shit.”

  No better way to find out how my text read.

  No response came. I kept trying to convince myself that he was just busy, or maybe he was indisposed for the moment, but as each additional minute ticked by, I became less and less convinced that he would reply. I was just about to give up, go into my contacts, and delete his number when my phone buzzed in my hand.

  I don’t really have the time.

  For some reason, that response pissed me off. Who did he think he was? He was the one who called me nonstop and chased me down outside a restaurant to beg for a second chance. Now he was responding to me with an obvious lie like I was just some girl who couldn’t get over a guy she liked?

  I angrily pressed the phone button to call him. When I heard the line pick up, I didn’t wait for him to say anything.

  “Bullshit, you don’t have time. What were you up to when you found the time to call me over and over? Did you suddenly get really busy after that? After you had the time to run me down outside of Surento’s? I’m not some cheap chick, Gabriel. You don’t just get to—”

  My rant was interrupted by the quiet sound of Gabriel chuckling on the other end of the phone. “What?” I snapped.

  Gabriel sucked in air to stop laughing. “Nothing. It’s…” He sighed. “It’s so good to hear your voice, even if you’re angry.”

  It killed any rage inside and made me realize with certainty that I wanted to see him. I had to. “It’s good to hear yours,” I replied. “Ass.”

  He chuckled. “I accept that.”

  “I…” My voice trailed off, but I searched for courage. I just needed to pry the door open again. There was something worthwhile on the other side. There had to be. “I want to see you.”

  Gabriel’s voice was drenched in pain when
he responded. “I want to see you, too.”

  “Come over,” I replied. There was a long stretch of silence, and my skin was prickling. I didn’t like it. “What?”

  “I can’t,” he responded.

  It shattered me. I wasn’t trying to scrub my skin away, it was trying to pull itself off my muscles in a slow, agonizing tear. “Why?”

  “I just can’t.” I almost felt like I heard him sniffle, but his voice was back a second later. “I have to go.”

  He didn’t say bye, or anything comforting, for that matter. The line just went dead. I sat, holding my phone in my hand while heartbreak truly settled in. I hadn’t accepted my feelings before, so maybe for the past few weeks, I was just hovering in limbo. Deciding that I wanted him, that I was falling for him, and reaching out for him made his rejection so painful that I could hardly stand it. I navigated back to his contact information. I had to get rid of it. Otherwise, I would turn into that girl who couldn’t let go. I scrolled down to the delete button and hovered my finger just above it. My phone buzzed again. A notification popped up next to Gabriel’s name on the contact, letting me know it was from him.

  Meet me at Hotel Xavier at

  7:00 p.m. I’ll explain everything.

  I promise.

  It was probably ill-advised to go, but I didn’t think that Gabriel would hurt me, and the need to see him was stronger than anything logical. I responded instantly that I would see him then, and instantly hopped up to get dressed and pack myself a hope-induced overnight bag.

  13

  Gabriel

  I set my phone down on the dining room table and looked up at Molly. “Are you sure?”

  Molly was setting out lunch for my niece, Anna, and nephew, Antonio. They were both getting so big already. It was hard to believe. Molly grabbed the plate she’d previously given me with a sandwich on it that was nothing but crumbs now.

  “I’m positive. Your brother would have everyone be celibate and dedicated to the job alone, but that’s not realistic. You deserve happiness. I’ll cover for you if I have to. If Luca calls you, don’t answer. Just be with Stacy.”

  I hadn’t told Molly about Stacy. I’d mentioned her in passing to Luca, but I hadn’t said her name. I didn’t say her name when I was just talking on the phone to her, either. “How did you know about Stacy?”

  Molly winked at me. “Marco’s taking good care of his brothers right now.”

  Ah, that made sense. I had talked to Marco at length about Stacy, and after his big confession that he thought it wasn’t fair that I was sacrificing my happiness for his, he probably told Molly to listen out. I’d have to call and thank him for that later, but for now, I had an angel to get to.

  “Thank you so much,” I hummed.

  Molly nodded. “Go.”

  I hopped up from the table, gave each of the kids and Molly a kiss on the cheek, and then fluttered from the room. I tacked up a mental reminder that Luca would likely murder all of us if he found out that Molly and Marco were aiding and abetting my seeing Stacy, despite the trouble it’d already caused. They both knew, as well as the rest of us, that the addition of women into the Varasso brothers’ lives had only made things more complicated, but I didn’t want to think about that right now. All I wanted to think about was Stacy. I told myself I’d sort out the details later.

  As I packed a bag, called and made a hotel reservation, cleaned myself up, and snuck out of the house without Luca seeing, I considered the details anyway, but no good solution came to me. I didn’t want to think that there was no way things could work out with Stacy, so I reopened the mental drawer I’d shoved my earlier reminder in, and pushed in one that said not sure what to do right alongside it.

  I’d asked Stacy to join me at seven, and by the time I was leaving the house, it was a little after five. I didn’t intend to use so much time to get ready, but I wanted everything to be perfect; I wanted to be perfect. I had to sell a lot on, “But look how cute I am,” so I wanted to look my best.

  I swung by a flower shop I’d found along the route to the hotel, hoping for a bouquet of roses, but the shop was closing soon and only had a small selection of flowers remaining. I didn’t have time to find something else, so in a choice between some ratty, weed-looking ferns and a potted, purple orchid, I opted for the orchid.

  I left again and headed for the grocery store next. One of the things I’d taken up in an attempt to feel closer to Stacy is vegetarianism. I couldn’t go vegan. It just wasn’t going to happen, and there was a rolling day each week when I cheated on being a vegetarian with bacon, but I was trying. I’d learned a recipe for a veggie ravioli from Molly, and I wanted to make it for Stacy. I’d dreamed of being able to show it to her at some point, but I’d never let it cross from a fleeting dream into something more real than that. I didn’t think I’d get the chance.

  The hotel I’d asked her to meet me at was one my family had inroads in. It was, for all intents and purposes, one of our legal ventures. My father invested in hotels early, not to use for any illegal reason, but because there were times his family and business partners needed a private place to stay. Though the amount we’d used the hotels had died down in the past decade, we still knew who to call when we needed a room. They were full-fledged suites, like mini apartments, complete with a kitchen, so I had everything I needed to cook dinner.

  I got to the hotel about thirty minutes early, which was just enough time to start dinner. I brought my bag to the luxurious bedroom, complete with a royal red and gold comforter and pillows nestled inside. I passed back through the living room to start a playlist of romantic music and set the lighting to a moody, middle setting that allowed the Philly skyline glowing in from the big bay window against the southern wall to light the room further. I walked into the kitchen next and set the wine I’d bought to chilling and then got started preparing the dough for the ravioli.

  “Gabriel?”

  The voice was like the chorus of a thousand beautiful melodies. I walked out of the kitchen into the entryway, and my heart leaped at the sight of Stacy standing before me after three long weeks. She looked unrealistic. She was wearing a green silk sundress with gold embossments all over it and gold roman sandals. Her hair was flowing down her head and washing over her shoulders like a beautiful, blond waterfall, at the crest of which was a crown of lime green mums held together by gold circlet. Even with the aggravated expression on her face, her nose wrinkled up and her eyebrows poking down, she was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Who do you think you are, Gabriel Varasso?” she started the second she saw me. “You show up at my studio one day, take me out, sleep with me, call me nonstop, and then ghost me? Then I swallow my pride and reach out to you, and you reject me then text me to come and meet you? I’m not a ping-pong ball. If you want—”

  It got too much to bear. Mid-sentence, I reached forward, slunk my hands along either side of her neck, and pulled her lips to mine. She tasted sweet, like a rare ice-cream. The tension she held when I first touched her loosened, and soon, she was slack in my grip. I couldn’t believe I had her in my arms again. I probably was dreaming, but if I was, I’d just try to stay asleep for as long as I could.

  When we separated, finally, Stacy’s cheeks were light pink. I smiled down at her. “I have to keep rolling my ravioli, but if you want to keep yelling, that’s okay.” I didn’t care if she was yelling, talking, or singing as long as I could hear her voice.

  I gripped her hand and pulled her with me into the kitchen and over to where I was rolling my dough. Stacy looked at it and let out a quiet gasp. “Are you rolling ravioli from scratch?”

  I nodded. “It’s a recipe I learned from my sister-in-law. It’s vegetarian.” Stacy looked up at me, and her eyes shined while a smile grew on her face. “Wanna try?”

  She nodded and quickly turned towards the sink to wash her hands. We spent the next couple of hours making and eventually eating our homemade meal. We were both careful not to travel towards a topic too serious, b
ut I did mention that my brother’s wife was pregnant again, and she told me her parents were settling into Philly okay. I didn’t want to think about the clock ticking away at our time together, only about that moment with her.

  When dinner was done, I took her over to the couch in the living room. It was fully night outside now, and the lights from the busy city outside lit up our room. I was staring happily at Stacy when her lips turned down into a frown.

  I threaded a hand into her hair. “What?”

  She leaned against my touch. “I’m having such a good time. This just feels right.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but then why do you look so sad?”

  “Because this isn’t it,” Stacy explained. “When all I think about is being here with you and how strong things are between us, it’s great, but then I remember there’s a dark side to all of this that I’m avoiding. I don’t want to think about what it means.”

  “Then don’t.” I slid closer to her on the couch. “Just think about this moment. Just think about me.” I pulled her against me, and she didn’t hesitate to push me backward onto the couch while my hands started to pull up the bottom of her dress.

  14

  Stacy

  Gabriel asked me to just think about him, and I was content to do so. All roads that I had traveled down while trying to find the solution to our problem were cloudy and covered in obstacles, but when I thought about traveling down the only bright, sunny path that didn’t lead to Gabriel, I couldn’t even bring myself to take the first step. Those solutions that pulled me from Gabriel were out. I had to have him, so we’d just have to figure something out.

  His hands traveled over the skin of my thighs as I journeyed along his lips with my own. My heart ricocheted in my chest with his smell wrapping around me. I didn’t realize how much I’d longed for his return until he was under me again. He was a medicine I’d been failing to wean myself off of, and now my body was getting the taste of him again and remembering what it meant. It was already bending to him, folding against the curves in his body as he stretched to claw my dress off of me. Wherever he went, I followed on instinct, as if a glue was setting.