Honor (Made Book 1)

by Melissa Ellen

  My cold hand trembled as I placed it in his, hoping nobody had caught on to his implication that we’d crossed paths before. The arrogant man shaking my hand was the same one who had bought me a drink in the hotel bar a few weeks ago. I couldn’t help wondering if our meeting that night hadn’t been by chance.

  You’re right to be suspicious.

  His words from that night rang loud in my ears, my heart pounding out each one rapidly. “Lena Moretti,” I supplied.

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman…the first name, that is,” he clarified, dropping my hand, the insult not lost on anyone. “Is it a family name?”

  “Yes. It was my mother’s middle name.”

  His smile faded slightly at my response as he turned back to my father and fiancé.

  “New management…” Lorenzo said the words randomly, as if he was processing something. “I suppose it was you who ordered the disruption in business.”

  “That it was.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Lorenzo took an aggressive step forward, only held back by my father’s arm. “Or are you as thick-headed and dumb as your father was?”

  For the first time since arriving, I saw the darkness that had been lingering in Declan come out to play. “If you want to keep things civil, I suggest you refrain from ever mentioning my father again.”

  I glanced to where Mario had been standing a few feet away, both him and Ricky taking a few precise steps, positioning themselves to act at a moment’s notice.

  “What are you doing here, Declan? I highly doubt you had an invitation,” said my father, taking control of the conversation.

  “Maybe not, but my date did.” He waved a hand toward a pretty debutante with big boobs and blond hair. “It was merely luck that I ran into you here. I couldn’t not stop to say hello. After all, we’ve been long-time business partners and it would be rude. I wouldn’t want to burn a bridge,” he said sarcastically.

  “I highly doubt that,” Lorenzo uttered under his breath. “You’ve already torched that bridge. And soon you’ll be burning along with it.”

  A chuckle rumbled from Declan as he lightly shook his head before meeting my father head on. “You should keep a tighter leash on this one,” he said, jabbing a thumb in Lorenzo’s direction. "He may end up costing you everything.”

  This time it was my father who took a threatening step toward the man who was no doubt insane. “You’ve said your hellos, delivered your message. Now leave, before I lose my patience.”

  Declan contemplated my father for a few seconds before swiveling his head to me. “Miss Moretti. It was a pleasure.” As relaxed and assured as he’d arrived, he walked away.

  Lorenzo stepped in front of my father, discussing something in hushed whispers, Mario and Ricky forming a protective barrier around them.

  I watched Declan return to his date. He spoke low into her ear. She smiled and nodded. Then he left her side once again, headed for the exit. I checked that the guys were still distracted before slipping away to follow him.

  I wanted answers. And as much as it scared me to be alone with the man, my need for them was stronger. Rushing out the door, I glanced both directions before spotting him.

  With rushed footsteps, I called out to his back, “Who are you?”

  His stride halted, his back facing me before he casually spun, his eyes flashing to stare over my shoulders, as if ensuring the others hadn’t come after me. “I believe I already introduced myself.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You knew who I was that night, didn’t you?”

  “We should talk.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Yes.”

  I crossed my arms. I was tired of all the secrets and lies. “What could we possibly have to talk about? You’re no better than him. Than any of them.”

  “You’re right, but if you want to know the truth about your mother, you’ll come.”

  My arms fell limply at my sides, my defensive barrier lowering at the unexpected mention of my mother. “What do you know about my mother?”

  “More than you, apparently.”

  I kept my eyes on his, trying to determine whether he was lying. “Where?”

  He reached into his jacket, pulling out a simple white card with an address. “When you’re ready.” He extended his arm, dangling it between two fingers.

  I hesitated, my eyes staring at the small paper as if it held all the answers I’d been searching for, then took it. He didn’t wait for me to say more. He was gone before I could look up.

  I clutched the address to my rapidly breathing chest, then safely tucked it into the cups of my dress, against my breast.

  “Lena?” Mario called.

  I spun to face him. His eyes were full of concern. I managed a tired smile as he strode my direction.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning all around us.

  “Yes. I’m fine. Just needed a moment to myself,” I lied.

  The guilt immediately tore through my chest. I had no doubt he saw it, but for some reason, he didn’t push for the truth.

  Instead, he gave my arm the slightest brush before telling me, “Come on. Your father has asked me to take you home.”

  I didn’t argue. I had no desire to stay here any longer.

  It’d been two days since my encounter with Declan Connolly. Forty-eight hours of nonstop thinking about what he was offering me, whether I could trust him, whether I should say something to Mario.

  I’d looked up the address a dozen times. It was in the Lower East Side, which gave me some sense of security, even if it was a false one. The only problem was figuring out a way to make the trip alone. Mario wasn’t Luca. He was too smart, knew me too well. He would see through any lie I tried to tell him.

  I didn’t want to lie to him. I wanted to tell him everything. But part of me feared he’d talk me out of it, the same part desperate to know the truth behind my mother’s death.

  I picked up my phone, knowing I couldn’t distract Mario on my own. I needed help. There were only two other people I knew I could depend on in this world, but they weren’t going to agree easily.

  14

  Lena

  I checked the clock for the tenth time before placing the last few items into my suitcase.

  There was a knock on my bedroom door. Mario stood in the opening, his hands gripping the frame as he leaned forward, looking around the room without stepping inside. His muscles flexed, stretching his shirt tight. “You ready?”

  “Yes. You can come in. Nobody’s home.”

  My father had been gone with Lorenzo all day. I was thankful for their absence. Things had been even more tense and unbearable since their run-in with Declan.

  He grinned, his steps full of swagger as he walked into my bedroom, his eyes going to the four-poster bed. His lips tilted in a ruthless smile. I had a good feeling he was imagining all the ways he could tie me up and do dirty things to me. I turned my back to him, bending slightly at my waist to zip the luggage sitting on my king-size mattress.

  “You have no idea how badly I want to take you on this bed right now.” The rasp of his voice was low and near.

  “What’s stopping you?” I tortured him a little, flattening my hands on the mattress, pressing my ass into his already rigid dick as he stepped up to my backside. His hot breath against my skin sent a shudder through my body.

  “Don’t tempt me, Lena.” His hand skirted up the side of my leg, clamping down on my hip to hold me still.

  His phone rang in his pocket. Digging inside, he pulled it out. He glanced at the caller ID and groaned. Whatever scenario had been playing in his head was effectively killed.

  “Ma?” he answered, biting back his frustration at the interruption. He listened to her speak before asking, “I was getting ready to leave town. Where’s Gia?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently as he finished his call.

  “Sure. Okay. I’ll figure it out… No. It’s fine
. I’ll be there.”

  He ended the call. “Ma needs help at Leoni’s. Apparently, half her staff has called in sick, Gia included. She just needs help getting through the dinner rush. Do you mind if we leave town a little later this evening?”

  “Of course not. Go. I’ll keep myself busy until then.” I plastered on a smile.

  He studied me a moment, as if he wanted to say more. My heart raced as I waited for him to call me out.

  He glanced toward the hallway before leaning in and whispering in my ear, “I’ll make it up to you when we get to the cabin tonight.”

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ll see you soon.”

  He hesitated at the door, giving me one last longing look, then rushed out of my room.

  I snuck out a service exit and took the subway to the Lower East Side. I checked my clock one more time, before dismantling my phone.

  I shuffled off the train with the rest of the commuters, then walked the few blocks to my destination. Nervous energy kept me from standing completely still as I loitered across the street from the address I now had memorized. I stared at the sign, thinking he must have given me the wrong one. Why would he ask me to meet him here? A hand touched my shoulder, startling me from my stupor.

  “Holy shit, Gia,” I gasped, clutching at my chest.

  “Sorry.” She shrugged. “You didn’t seem to hear me when I said your name.” She glanced around our surroundings. “So…where are we going exactly?”

  I nodded toward the pawn shop across the street. “There. And not we. Me.” I looked down at her bag. “Did you bring it?”

  “Yeah,” she said, reluctantly passing it to me. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m letting you go in there by yourself. I still have no idea how you convinced Ma to go along with this.”

  I ignored her, opening the bag, checking for the gun I’d asked her to bring. I wasn’t above emotional blackmail, which is exactly what I used on Maria Leoni when I called to enlist her help.

  “Do you even know how to use that thing?”

  Closing the bag, I looked back at her. “Yes. Mario used to take me to a shooting range. I’m not as good as him, but I can hit a decent-sized target...as long as it’s not moving.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “And you aren’t going with me,” I reiterated. “Mario would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”

  “And he may actually kill me if I let you go in there alone and something happened to you.”

  “Fine,” I relented. I didn’t have time to argue with her. I was on a time crunch and at this point, without an actual clock, I had no idea how much of it we’d already wasted. “Let’s go.”

  Taking one more look around to make sure the coast was clear, I hurried across the street, Gia at my side. I opened the door to the pawn shop. A door chime rang as we entered. The store was covered in vintage items and the pungent smell that assaulted my nose was as old as the items the place housed.

  A plump, balding man sat behind the glass counter, his eyes glued to a newspaper. I stopped in front of him, waiting for him to acknowledge our presence. When he didn’t, I exaggerated the clearing of my throat.

  He sighed while lifting his head and lowering his glasses from the bridge of his nose. His gaze combed over Gia then shifted to me as he waited expectantly.

  “I’m here to see Declan Connolly.”

  “Never heard of him.” The man flicked his eyes back to his paper, dismissing us.

  I looked to Gia, who shrugged. Not having come this far only to leave with nothing, I gripped his paper, crumpling it in my hand and pushing it downward. He glared at me and I released it, pulling out the card Declan had given me. I slammed it on the counter, sliding it toward him.

  “Maybe your memory is failing you. He gave me this. I need to speak with him. Now,” I added, in a don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

  His eyes drifted from me to the card. He picked it up, studying it for a moment before standing from his seat and walking to an old black rotary phone that sat on the counter. He dialed a number, the whole process aggravating as we waited for him to place the call.

  He spoke low into the receiver, then hung up the phone and walked back over to us. “She stays,” he nodded toward Gia.

  “No.”

  “Fine.”

  Gia argued while I agreed. He glanced at my left hand. “Give me the ring.”

  “My ring?”

  “Yep. This is a pawn shop, sweetheart. You want something of value, you have to trade something of value in return.”

  “I can’t give you my ring.”

  “It’s temporary. If you walk out that door"—he pointed to a door marked ‘employees only’—"you’ll get it back.”

  I slipped off the ring, setting it onto the glass counter. I didn’t know if it was the gun I concealed making me feel brave, the adrenaline racing through my veins, or just pure stupidity, but I chose to ignore that he’d alluded to the fact that I may not be coming out alive.

  “Lena,” Gia whispered, “I don’t like this. I think we should forget the whole thing.”

  “No,” I clipped, spinning to face her.

  “Please. We can talk to Mario. He’ll understand and he’ll come back with you.”

  “I can’t, Gia. I need to do this now. On my own.”

  I didn’t know if she understood. And I didn’t care really. I appreciated her protectiveness, but I was doing this with or without her approval.

  “You two are made for each other, both stubborn as mules,” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m giving you thirty minutes. If you don’t walk back through that door alive and unharmed by then, I’m calling Mario and the police.”

  I touched her elbow, giving her an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine, but okay.”

  “Are you two done?” The man shot us an annoyed look.

  I nodded and he signaled for me to follow him. Before walking through the stockroom door, I gave Gia one final, reassuring glance.

  I didn’t know what I expected to see when I walked through that door, but I hadn’t expected it to be an extravagantly decorated speakeasy. We walked from one elaborate room to the next. I counted at least four with two bars, a beautiful lounge, and intricate ceilings. The room that appeared to be the main room with the largest bar even had a twenty-foot-high oval skylight looming overhead. I imagined at night, when the secret club was filled with patrons, the atmosphere was electric.

  The man stopped at a heavy metal door painted black, knocking twice. The door creaked open. Another, more intimidating man stood on the other side. I was passed off, like a rag doll, the man’s grip digging into my arm as he pulled me down a dark hallway.

  I started to panic, my mind telling me to fight my way out and run. I yanked my arm, trying to break free. “Cool it,” he growled just as he pulled me through an opened door into a large room that appeared to be an office.

  “Then let me go,” I scowled, attempting to twist free once again.

  “You heard her,” Declan’s hard voice commanded from behind me.

  The man immediately dropped my arm, taking a step away from me. “Sorry, boss.”

  Declan jerked his head toward the same door we’d walked through—silently dismissing the asshole—his eyes not straying from me.

  I rubbed at the sore spot on my arm, worried the man might have left a mark as I stared back at Declan. He was dressed all in black—black slacks, black dress shirt, sans tie, with the top few buttons undone, and a black suit jacket.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “Do you really care if he did?” I retorted.

  He scoffed a chuckle. “Are you always this difficult?”

  “Only when I feel threatened.”

  “My apologies. It wasn’t my intent to make you feel threatened. Sometimes Brutus doesn’t realize his own strength.”

  “Brutus? Is that really his name?”

  “I have no idea,” he lifted an unconcerned shoulder. “He just s
eems like a Brutus to me. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”

  My brows pinched together; this man was incredibly odd and hard to read. “Doesn’t he work for you?”

  “Sure. As of recently, he does.”

  Lorenzo’s words the other night replayed in my mind. New management. Deciding I didn’t care to know much more about his business, I shook the thought from my head, trying to refocus on the information I’d come for. As curious as this man made me, I was here for my mother.

  “You lied to me.”

  “On the contrary,” he replied, not fazed by my abrupt change of subject. “I’ve told you the truth every time you’ve asked me a question.”

  “In my book, an omission is still a lie.”

  His mouth ticked with a repressed smile.

  “Did you seek me out that night?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I figured it was time for us to meet.” He waved a hand toward the two contemporary black leather chairs in front of a large desk constructed of glass and steel. The whole office had a cold, dark climate, from the frigid air eliciting goosebumps on my arms to the modern décor.

  “Yet, you didn’t actually introduce yourself,” I pointed out, taking one of the seats he offered.

  He propped himself against the front edge of the desk, crossing his arms and ankles. “I needed to feel things out first. Figure out whose side you were on.”

  “The only side I’m on is mine.” And Mario’s. But I couldn’t state that, for obvious reasons. I didn’t know nor trust this man.

  This time, my response earned me a real smile, not the cocky one I’d already become used to seeing.

  “You said you had information on my mother,” I said, reminding him why I’d come.

  “I do.”

  “Well, do you expect me to beg you for it? If so, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  “No. Although I don’t mind a beautiful woman begging on her hands and knees in front of me, that is not an image I want to have of you,” he said the last word pointedly, his right brow arching.