by Bethany-Kris
“Excuse me, Miss! If you have a reserva—”
Haven flipped a hand over her shoulder in reply, but said nothing otherwise. She wasn’t here to eat, and she didn’t give a shit about reservations. She didn’t even care about asking where Andino was, for that matter.
She’d figure it out on her own.
Besides, he could only be in one of two places. As he usually was whenever he was in the restaurant. Either in his office, or the private dining section. She didn’t think the man had ever even done a job in the restaurant that was a part of owning the fucking place. Certainly not cooking, or serving a table. Maybe some paperwork, and coming out to shake a hand or two.
That was it.
Haven figured—only because Andino said he was busy—that he was probably in his office. That’s where she headed first, but she had to pass the private dining section of the restaurant in order to slip through the kitchen to get to the back office.
She almost stumbled in her steps when she caught sight of Andino in the private section. Apparently, dining with two other men dressed in dark suits. One she recognized as Andino’s uncle, Lucian. The other man, she didn’t know at all. All she could see of Andino was the expanse of his broad shoulders, and the back of his head.
That wasn’t what made her stop.
Or stumble.
No, it was the fact that his arm was so carelessly tossed around the back of a chair where a woman sat next to his side. Close to his side, actually. Very fucking close.
She couldn’t see much of the woman given her back was turned to the doorway. Just the woman’s long, wavy dark hair, and the low cut back of the dress she wore. The delicate line of her shoulders, and then her profile when she turned to smile at something Andino said.
A soft smile.
It could mean anything. It could mean nothing.
And yet, Haven didn’t think that was the case at all. Maybe it was the way Andino smiled, and nodded back to the woman. Like he was comfortable sitting there like that, and didn’t mind having the woman so close to him. Or it could have been the way he fixed a stray strand of her hair with a chuckle, and then the woman dropped her gaze with a pink tint coloring her cheeks.
Too close.
Too fucking personal.
Too much for her.
Haven blinked.
That rage she had been feeling ever since she left the café blinked out for a fast moment. What was left in its wake was a sharp, stinging pain that sliced through her body with devastating intent.
A pain like no other.
God.
She thought he had broke her heart before, but that was not the case. This was far worse. So much worse, really.
It was like she forgot how to breathe all of the sudden. The floor tilted under her, and the room became entirely too hot. Nothing felt right, and everything was horribly wrong. It was an awful way to feel.
She hated him for making her feel like this.
Haven wasn’t sure what gained the attention of the people inside the private section. It could have been the noise that escaped her suddenly raw throat. A mixture of pain, and disbelief at the sight in front of her. Or it might have been one of the two men sitting on the opposite side of the table with full view of the doorway, and her standing directly inside of it.
Either way, they noticed her.
Andino turned to glance at her first, then the woman.
Haven was too busy looking at him to give a single fuck about her. She should tell the woman good luck—warn her that she was going to need all the luck she could get where Andino was concerned. The man didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself.
That much was clear.
She didn’t bother.
Useless, wasted words.
What was the point?
“Haven?” Andino said, confusion thickening his tone. He was quick to stand from his seat, and move toward her in the doorway. “What are you—”
He was too close.
Already.
Even being ten feet away with another second or two before he could reach her, she felt like he was too goddamn close to her. She didn’t even want to be close enough to share his air, or see his face.
None of it.
Look at what he’d done to her.
Look at what he did.
“Don’t,” Haven snapped out in a rasp, holding one hand up to stop him from coming any closer. “I don’t want you near me, Andino.”
The hard set of his jaw flexed, and something flashed in his eyes. Confusion and pain, she thought, but it was hard to tell. He was good liar—said so himself. Nothing he did or said could be trusted. Not anymore. Haven learned that lesson and learned it well. Even if it was the last thing she wanted to know.
Andino’s gaze darkened, and he took one more step closer to her. “Why are you—”
Haven glanced at the woman, and then back to him. If his shifting feet were any indication, Andino didn’t miss the way her stare moved. Uncomfortable was not a good look on this man, but fuck him, because he deserved it.
And that woman?
Fuck her, too.
Except, she wasn’t even the reason why Haven was there. She was just a second realization—a byproduct of Haven coming here, and nothing more. She was the confirmation that Haven needed to know this was the end.
“My club—Sandstone Investments. Ring any bells?”
Andino stiffened, and his face blanked. “Haven, I—”
“Oh, don’t try for an excuse. Don’t lie. You stepped in with the offer under the guise of your company in order to keep me in New York, and with you. That’s what you did. I don’t need you to fucking lie about it, Andino. I have had enough of your lies to last me an eternity. Thanks.”
“Would you give me a minute, please?”
“No, I’m good,” Haven replied. “We’re done. You and me, it’s over. Don’t ever come near me again, Andino. Leave me the fuck alone.”
She had so much more she wanted to say. There was a hell of a lot more she could have said. She could have made a far bigger scene, and let all that anger and pain out in words that would cut him to the ground.
This felt better.
This felt final.
Haven let it be done, and before Andino could respond, she had already turned her back to him and walked away.
It has to be done.
THIRTEEN
We’re done.
Leave me the fuck alone.
Andino was more than aware that he couldn’t afford to be lost in his thoughts in that moment, and yet, the only thing he could manage to do was stare blankly at the doorway Haven had just vacated.
He’d fucked up.
Oh, damn.
He’d fucked up badly.
The pain that had saturated Haven’s words when she spoke was still echoing in his mind. Even as the chairs scraped behind him, and bodies shifted to stand, he was still lost in the sound of Haven’s words banging around in his head.
Like knives and hammers.
Cutting and demolishing.
He hadn’t meant to do this, and certainly not to her. That had never been his intention, not to hurt her, or bring her into this mess. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to break her in the process. And yet, he thought that might be exactly what he had done.
“Nipote,” Lucian murmured from somewhere behind him. “Do you need a minute to—”
“What was that?”
Kev Calabrese’s voice grated on Andino’s nerves like nothing else. It made his back and shoulders stiffen with the rage that swelled hot and heavy in his gut. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and tell Kev to go fuck himself. That the deal was off—not that he ever intended to follow it through in the first goddamn place.
Yet, he was still stuck.
Still quiet.
“Andino,” Lucian said again.
Andino simply held up a hand for them to see over his shoulder. A silent way of asking for them to be quiet, and give him a second. Who
knew what he fucking looked like right then? He didn’t want to turn around and give anyone—but especially Kev—any more ammo to use against him than what Haven had just handed over.
Fuck.
She didn’t realize what she just did.
He couldn’t even blame her.
“Andino, I don’t have time for this shit,” Kev snapped.
Fuck him.
Andino turned around with a sardonic smile plastered on his face. A forced smile, really. The most he could offer right then. “What’s the problem, Kev?”
The Calabrese man’s gaze narrowed in on Andino like he had found the target he was about to shoot at. Andino might actually welcome the fucking bullets with the way he was feeling. Right then, though, he needed to get a handle on this situation in whatever way he could.
Kev gestured at the doorway. “What is the problem?”
“That’s what I asked.”
Andino was acutely aware of the way his uncle had reverted into something akin to a statue. Lucian was blank all over—no expression, and nothing to give away. He most certainly knew who Haven was, and what her showing up there meant. And yet, his uncle stayed unreadable as to let Andino handle the situation however he wanted to.
He was grateful.
One less issue for now, anyway. No doubt, he was going to have to deal with his own family for this at a later date. That was always going to happen—it would have been unavoidable in the end. Andino simply didn’t know if he was ready for it now.
Too late to be considering that, he supposed.
“The problem—” Kev cut off with a disgusted noise. He pointed at the doorway yet again. “Who was that woman?”
This was what Andino had wanted to avoid the very most. He didn’t want Haven on the Calabrese radar for any fucking reason. They were snakes—they couldn’t be trusted with a single inch. If they thought they could use her to get to Andino, or the rest of the Marcellos, there was no doubt in his mind that they wouldn’t even think twice about doing exactly that.
These fuckers were predictable.
He’d worked so hard to keep Haven away from these people. Sure, in a way, it ended up keeping her away from his people, too. It probably made her think she was his secret—how many goddamn times had she said that exact thing to him?
She didn’t know, though.
He couldn’t explain.
This was why he needed her to stay away. This was why he kept her separate, and made sure that no one ever touched her simply because she was attached to him and his name.
Not until he could protect her.
Fuck.
“Who is she?” Kev asked again. “Because I am going to assume—and probably rightfully so—that she is someone you’re involved with considering the things she said. Tell me I’m wrong, Andino. I dare you.”
“Oh, her?” Andino shrugged. “She’s no one.”
All lies.
Lies, lies, and more lies.
A sneer worked its way over Kev’s mouth. “No one. Really?”
“That’s what I said.”
And that was all he was going to fucking offer, too. Wasn’t it bad enough that Andino had said Haven’s name out loud, and all Kev would need to do was a little bit of fucking digging to find out exactly who she was?
Because he thought it was.
Andino glanced at Ginevra who was quiet, and had turned her gaze down on her hands. She’d been uncomfortable for the majority of the dinner. He assumed something happened before she and her brother showed up because she came in looking like a damn ghost, and as silent as one, too.
He’d been trying to make her feel a bit better just before Haven walked in—he still needed this woman to at least trust him so that when the right time came, he could use her to help himself, and her, too.
Fuck my whole life.
“Andino,” Lucian said quietly, “are you sure you don’t need a minute?”
He heard his uncle’s unspoken question.
Do you want to end this?
“I’m good,” Andino lied. “We were getting dessert, weren’t we?”
He sat back down at the table beside Ginevra. Kev, on the other hand, looked ready to blow his fucking top. Well, that seemed like a Kev problem and not an Andino problem at the moment.
He had other things to deal with.
“Are you going to sit?” Andino asked Kev.
Kev glared. “Are we going to have a problem, Andino?”
“I don’t know—are we?”
The man didn’t respond.
Andino figured … that was self-explanatory.
He glanced over at Ginevra. “Cheesecake, then?”
The young woman stared at him for a while, saying nothing. He could see the questions in her eyes. He wondered if she knew just by looking at him that he was in pain, and that the love of his life had just walked away from him.
Maybe forever.
Who knew?
Ginevra swallowed hard, and then nodded subtly. “Cheesecake sounds great.”
Smart woman.
Andino might be able to still help her yet. But how in the hell was he going to help himself? And Haven?
That was the better question.
“Damage control,” Dante said, shooting Andino a look that burned.
Andino didn’t need that fucking look from his uncle. He’d been hearing Dante rage at him all week about Haven showing up at the restaurant. The first thing Kev had done was call Dante and ask about the blonde, tattooed whore—Kev’s words, and ones he would probably die for—that Andino was involved with.
Dante had made his feelings more than clear to Andino. He was disappointing his uncle at every turn. Big fucking deal.
“Damage control is what we need to focus on right now,” Dante continued.
“How do you suggest we do that?” Lucian asked, dropping into the chair beside Andino’s father. “Give them something else they want, brother?”
Dante didn’t miss Lucian’s cutting tone if the way his gaze sliced to his brother was any indication. The older men stared at one another for a long time without saying anything. That whole cut the tension with a knife came to mind.
So was their life lately.
The Calabrese were good for that—fucking shit up. The Marcellos weren’t immune to that nonsense, either. For as strong as their family unit could be on a good day, it only took one single issue that could bring up a differing of opinions on all sides to make them put a bit of distance between each other.
“I do not have the patience for this tonight, son,” Antony said, pushing out of the chair behind the large oak desk. “This is for you and your brothers—” Andino’s grandfather stopped talking as he shot him a look. “And Andino, I suppose, to figure out now. You don’t need me here to do it, and I don’t care to listen to you all bicker back and forth for hours on end.”
“We’re not—”
Antony held up a hand to quiet Dante. “I don’t care.”
Apparently, they were back to using Antony and Cecelia’s mansion as a meeting hub. Really, it was supposed to be their usual Sunday family dinner. No business on Sundays was the rule, but exceptions could always be made. Andino was a reason for a lot of exceptions lately.
Or that’s what Dante had pointed out time and time again this week. Andino was starting to become numb to this shit.
Once Antony was gone from the office, Dante turned his attention on Giovanni instead of Lucian. “And what about you?”
Gio quirked an eyebrow high. “What about me?”
“Do you have anything you want to say about all of this?”
“Why should I say something when you’ve been shouting at my son enough for all of us lately, Dante?”
Dante stiffened, and straightened on the spot. “Excuse me?”
“You heard what I said.”
Gio held his ground, and Andino was surprised. It wasn’t often that his father and the boss went head to head on something. Gio was happy in his place as Dante’s
consigliere, and the two rarely argued.
That was changing, it seemed.
Andino didn’t need to wonder why, either. His father’s position was always clear where he was concerned: what Andino wanted, Gio also wanted. His loyalty to the family was never in question, but he, like Andino, knew that the family wasn’t just the wants of one man, but all the men. It couldn’t be just about Dante when there were other people in the equation, too.
“Do you expect me to be pleased with the fact Andino is still running around with that woman even after this agreement was made—”
“I think you can’t expect my son to be like you,” Gio returned, stopping his brother from saying anything more. “And you’re still expecting exactly that in a lot of ways. You expect him to be fine and faithful to a woman he didn’t choose and doesn’t love. You expect him to do what you were willing to do for Catrina—except he isn’t you, and I won’t be someone else who puts those expectations on him.”
“So, you’re fine with him having—”
Enough of this.
Andino could and would fight his own battles, but he really just wanted to move the hell on at the moment. “It’s over.”
Dante turned on him again, quiet for a passing second before he asked, “What is over?”
“Haven and I.”
Andino didn’t offer more because frankly, he didn’t think he needed to. What more needed to be said other than that? Oh, he sure as fuck didn’t actually mean it. He wasn’t anywhere near done with Haven. He loved her to the ends of the earth and back, even if that meant killing himself to finally have her.
But for now?
Well … for now, he needed to keep her as safe as he could. He needed to keep attention away from her.
That meant he needed to stay away.
Dante folded his arms over his chest, and replied, “I think you can understand my disbelief when you say that, Andi.”
“Sure, but the fact remains the same.”
“I don’t think it’s his choice when he says it’s over,” Lucian murmured from his seat. “The young woman made it quite clear where she stood.”