by Bethany-Kris
Dare cocked a single brow. “That’s a woman.”
“And?”
“Why are you doing a check on a woman?”
“Because she’s ours,” Alessio explained, “and I don’t like waiting for other people to figure shit out that should be obvious.”
Dare didn’t reply.
Alessio was fine with that.
He had a fucking plane to catch, now.
Somehow—by the grace of God—traffic in Toronto hadn’t been bad. He went twenty over the speed limit to make it back to the penthouse with lots of time to still catch his flight on the way back, though. Not that it left him very much breathing room for minutes to stay … because it didn’t.
Alessio had a whole …
He checked the dashboard, the digital clock spelling out the time for him as he pulled the car he’d left at the airport when he first left the city to a stop in front of the building. Right in a No-Parking zone, too.
Fuck it.
Tow it, motherfuckers.
Ten minutes.
It’s all Alessio had to spare right now. If in that time he wasn’t able to convince Corrado to pull his motherfucking head out of his ridiculous ass, well, he would go to plan B. Which unfortunately, would have to wait until he got back on the continent.
Perfect.
Life loved him.
Sarcasm was Alessio’s best friend.
He left the car running at the curb, knowing he would be back down here and speeding through the city in no time to get back to the goddamn airport. Ignoring the look the doorman passed him when he didn’t even wait for the older gentleman to open the door, Alessio headed into the building.
He didn’t bother with the front desk—rarely did, anyway—instead opting to head for the bank of elevators at the other side of the entrance. A lady behind the desk calling his first name made Alessio hesitate in his steps.
He shot the redhead a look over his shoulder. “What?”
She smiled, waving a white envelope for him. “I’m supposed to give this to you, if I saw you come through.”
What?
He felt like a parrot.
Even inside his head.
Alessio glanced back and forth between the elevators, and the waiting woman. He didn’t have time to fuck around here—it would take him a few minutes to get upstairs, and inside the penthouse anyway.
“I’ll grab it on my way out,” he told her, going for the elevators.
“The penthouse is empty, sir. That’s why I have this.”
Alessio’s back stiffened.
Of course.
Fucking Corrado.
He loved the man.
Loved him stupid.
But he did dumb things.
And this was probably one of those.
Alessio spun on his heel and crossed the space to the front desk in six long strides. He took the envelope from the woman with a tight smile and turned his back to her as he ripped it open. Pulling the piece of white stationary from it, he found familiar handwriting staring back at him.
Something else people didn’t have a clue about Corrado?
He didn’t like to talk. Communication wasn’t his thing because he’d never been good at it when he was in a mood, and he would avoid it at all costs.
Corrado had known Alessio was coming back. It didn’t surprise him all that much that the man had done this—left him a small note—instead of sending him a message or answering one of his many texts.
I need a couple of days, it read. Sorry, Les. I’ll see you when you get back. Love you.–Corrado
Alessio tapped the paper against the palm of his hand, aware he had to get back to the airport soon.
Fuck it.
Plan B, then.
As soon as he got back.
Andino had lied.
Sort of.
Ginevra could not immediately see her sisters when she arrived back in New York. Details, someone thought to explain. Yes, the girls knew she was coming back, and yes, she could see them soon, but first they had to finish out a few things.
Just in case.
Those things?
Pulling the plug on Darren’s life support. Apparently, with her half-brother still technically alive, though no one believed he would make it through considering the doctor’s prognosis on his condition, people on the Calabrese side of things were still holding out hope. Like that would make a difference.
Ginevra didn’t pretend to understand the way Andino Marcello’s mind worked, or why the man seemed to enjoy pulling the strings of the people around him in a way that showed he was the only person who was in control, but here they all were.
Because of him.
Instead of being granted access to her sisters, Ginevra was tucked away in a fancy room at the Waldorf in Manhattan for the better portion of three days. Without a phone, or any other way to communicate with someone outside of the hotel.
There had even been two men who worked in twelve-hour shifts that guarded the hotel door. They were also the ones who took the phones from the Waldorf suite and only allowed room service in when she let them know ahead of time, so they could order it.
They’re not for you, she was told, but for someone who might want to hurt you.
Right.
Ginevra wasn’t sure if she would accept that shit, or not, but she hadn’t been given much of a choice. If she wanted access to her sisters, then she had to follow the rules. Hadn’t the last several months proved she was more than willing and capable of staying in line when it meant getting something she wanted?
Still …
Ginevra could have stayed in Toronto for just a couple of more days if this was what Andino had planned for her when she arrived back in New York. Then, she might have fixed the mistake she made by leaving the club that night. No doubt, Corrado and Alessio assumed her leaving was about them when she hadn’t given them a reason to think otherwise.
Sure, Marcus could have told them she had gone home for her sisters, but if they had been told … wouldn’t they come to her?
Ginevra thought so.
Hoped so.
And yet, here she was.
Alone in this goddamn room.
“Miss?”
Ginevra looked away from the bay window positioned across from the large seating area. She found one of the two men tasked with guarding her room standing just beyond the entry that led between the kitchen section, and the sitting room. He gave her a tight smile when she stared at him, waiting.
She had nothing to say.
What did they want from her?
“The boss just called—”
Ginevra frowned. “Who?”
“Andino, Miss.”
Oh, right.
So many things had changed in her time away, and that was only one. Not that she had understood the mafia, or how it worked before Andino sent her to Toronto, but since she came back, things she didn’t understand were different again.
Andino now controlled the Marcellos. Johnathan, Andino’s cousin, headed the family that used to belong to her half-brothers.
They acted like she was supposed to already be aware of these things, and she was still trying to catch up with what happened before she left, let alone what was going on now. Ginevra would not apologize for needing a minute to get herself together.
“And what did he want?” she asked.
The man—Tim, was it?—nodded once. “He wanted me to let you know your sisters are on their way here … or they’re almost here. About ten minutes away, now.”
Her heart stopped.
She was sure it did.
“Yeah?”
“Yep. I will let them in when they get here.”
So that must mean …
“Darren is—”
“They shut his life support off days ago,” Tim said, shrugging. “I assume Siena will get the information together for his burial.”
“Huh.”
“You okay?”
She gave the man a second lo
ok. He hadn’t bothered to care before if she was fine, or not. He was there to do his job, and she respected that. They all had roles to play in this life, and she was all too aware of that fact.
“Fine,” she blurted. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Your sisters will be here shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Tim left her to resume his post outside the room, and Ginevra paced. Next to wishing Corrado and Alessio were there with her, she wanted nothing more than to be back with her sisters.
But would they be resentful because she had left them here alone? Would they be angry that she run off without them? Might they feel like she fed them to the wolves to save her own skin?
Those were things Ginevra wasn’t sure.
And it hurt her heart.
Ginevra continued to pace, unaware of the minutes ticking by, until the hotel door’s knob jiggled. All at once, she turned into stone, her gaze darting to the opened doorway, and there they stood.
Greta.
Giulia.
Looking too much like younger versions of their mother, with water in their eyes as though they feared what would be waiting on the other side for them, too, and yet, still searching for her.
“Ginevra?” Greta asked first.
Ginevra sucked in a ragged breath. “Hey.”
And yet, she didn’t give a fucking damn, either.
Giulia smiled widely, the first tears making lines down her cheeks when Ginevra took a step toward them. “I missed you so much. I tho—”
“No, no, no.”
She didn’t want to hear those fears. She wanted to take these teenagers, not quite women yet, away from those that wanted to take her from them. No one would ever take her from them.
She decided that.
Not again.
Ginevra quickly crossed the floor then, her arms already opened to hug her younger sisters. Greta stepped forward first, slamming into Ginevra at full speed, but Giulia came right after. She kissed the tops of their heads, trying to search them at the same time for any changes.
It was just a couple of months.
There shouldn’t be changes.
Still, she wanted to check. Were they taller? Greta changed her hair to a stark red that looked beautiful against her olive-toned skin. A change from brown, and their mother once loved the color red.
“God, look at you,” Ginevra said quietly, her hands skimming over both her sisters’ faces to wipe away their tears. “Don’t cry, okay? It’s all going to be better now—I’m not going away again.”
“Promise?” Greta asked.
Almost eighteen, but right then, Greta sounded small. Childlike, even, and it killed Ginevra a little. They’d all been nothing more than pawns to a bigger game played by people who didn’t give a single shit about them at the end of the day.
“I promise,” Ginevra whispered.
Giulia hugged Ginevra again, and Greta followed her lead. She let them, and the hotel door closed by Tim when the tears fell once more. Was this the reunion her sisters expected? It was still good.
They loved her.
She loved them.
That’s all that mattered.
She wished two other people were here, too.
“Here we are.”
The car rolled to a stop in front of an apartment complex that was decent, considering the area and location.
“And what am I here for?” she asked.
In the driver’s seat, Andino chuckled. “Well, you need a place to live, and your old apartment is gone.”
“Gone how?”
“Kev and Darren forced the girls’ into Siena’s care—not that she minded,” he added when Ginevra gave him a sharp look from the side. “But she has things to take care of with John, and starting their life, so I figured you would want the girls with you. The apartment is furnished, and ready for you to use.”
He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. There, he pulled out a manila envelope that looked to be two inches thick, or more. “Here—cash. It’ll take care of whatever else you and your sisters need for a time while we wait for Siena to settle out your brothers’ estates, which she has decided will be divided between you, and the girls.”
Ginevra swallowed hard, trying to take all that information in. “And how much is their estates worth?”
“A lot.”
Huh.
Did that mean she would go back to college? Buy a house? Could she pay for Greta’s college next year, or put Giulia into a private school? What did it mean?
Ginevra didn’t have the first clue, and she didn’t care to ask. She took the envelope, nodding as she said, “Thanks.”
“No worries. Least I can do.”
“No, you didn’t need to let me think I would have to marry you right until the last second, Andino.”
He made a noise under his breath, amused. “Everyone needed to believe the ploy. Even you, and I won’t apologize for it, either.”
“People aren’t pawns on a chessboard for you to move as you deem fit.”
“They are if it gives me what I want.”
Ginevra had the strangest urge to hit the man beside her because that might make her feel better if only for a second. “And what’s that, Andino? What you wanted, I mean.”
“A woman.”
His frank answered stunned her.
“A woman,” she echoed.
“And I got her,” Andino said, offering nothing else. “So, I care very little about what you or anyone else says about how I did this when I get to spend the rest of my life apologizing to her for the things I did … and trust she is the only person in this world I will apologize to, and mean it. As for you, the girls will be brought over by Siena later, and then you are free to do whatever.”
Go back to normal.
That’s what she would do.
Make sure her sisters were able to resume their normal life before all of this happened. It would be hard without their mother, and nothing would ever be the same, but that’s what she planned on doing. And somehow, amid that, try to get back to the men she left behind in Toronto.
Speaking of which …
“Has anyone tried to get in contact with you to speak with me?” she asked.
Andino passed her a glance. “I don’t understand.”
“From Toronto, I mean.” Ginevra didn’t want to out her relationship with Corrado and Alessio because that wasn’t anyone’s business, but she still had to ask. “Corrado, maybe, because he watched after me. Or … Alessio?”
It took Andino a second.
Then, two.
He gave her a curious glance when he said, “I heard rumors about those two, but I didn’t know if they’re accurate. People say they’re together, but they share women, too. How true is that?”
Nope.
She wouldn’t do that.
Not with this man.
“Has anyone tried to contact me?”
Andino shook his head. “Anyone in Toronto has been quiet since you left. That’s all I can tell you.”
Why did that sound like a door closing? Like an end—an answer she didn’t want, but one she now had. What should she do with it?
It was almost strange how when Corrado needed something to relax him, or pull him out of the hell that was his mind, he often found himself back at a place that rarely allowed him those things in the past. The League, that was.
There was little about the complex that allowed Corrado happy memories. In fact, his training had been some of the worst months of his life. Demanding, intense, and often mind-breaking. Although, that had been the point. They had to break all the pieces of him to put him back together better.
Maybe that was why, now, his mind didn’t work the same way. He didn’t find normal things relaxing—not the shit other people liked to use to chill them out, anyway. Now, he needed the familiarity of a space that had humbled him in more ways than one, and gave him something he hadn’t known was possible in Alessio.
Love, that was.
Even if love wasn’t here now.
Corrado spent a few days at his family’s lodge in Quebec, hiding away from the world, focusing his attention on taking care of himself, and doing what he needed. He didn’t have a phone to answer, and he didn’t use the landline at the lodge to call out except once to let his father know where he was, if needed. He hadn’t stayed on the call long enough for his father to ask questions, and he informed no one else about his whereabouts, either.
Should anyone at The League need him, Dare could use Corrado’s tracker. His brothers had their own life and business to handle, so they didn’t need to worry about Corrado.
Alessio left—the fucking job.
Ginevra …
Well, she made her choice.
Didn’t she?
Corrado was letting her make it.
Simple as that.
Except it wasn’t that simple.
The one thing he never experienced with Alessio in all their years together was heartbreak. Not because there hadn’t been opportunity or things that came up between them that might separate them. They always chose each other first, and everything else second.
Usually.
For the first time, Corrado learned about having his heart broken by someone he loved, and he realized that, no, he did not react well to it. In fact, he took it so badly that he wanted to hide away from the world.
That was the problem, though.
It wouldn’t be over.
He would not be okay.
And that’s why, when the trip to Quebec didn’t work, he made his way back to Vegas, to sleep in a familiar bed that still smelled like one of the people who still held a piece of his soul and heart in their hands. To walk familiar halls he once walked with Alessio; to focus on anything except the ache in his heart.
Not that it helped.
His mood became worse.
Hence, Cree inviting him for a sparring round in the ring that morning. Had Corrado been a smarter man—apparently, he wasn’t today—he would have refused the offer. Anyone with any brains understood sparring with Cree was pointless because he either beat the shit out of someone, or he nearly did so. Besides, this was him substituting one pain for another.
“Fuck,” he hissed, ducking back to miss a punch Cree threw his way. “If you don’t break one of my bones, that would be great.”