I grabbed my henna pen and touched up the line I had woken up with the day after prom. I’d been doing this regularly since, and I couldn’t explain it. The henna didn’t feel permanent enough, but the next step would be a tattoo.
How could I tattoo something I didn’t remember to my body just because I felt an inexplicable connection to it?
Answer: I couldn’t.
I slipped a ring over the henna to cover it up. Though it looked ridiculous, I added rings on all of my fingers because I didn’t want to explain the henna.
Angelo cornered me when I left my bedroom to meet Damian in his room.
I eyed Damian’s door, urging it to open, before flicking an unfazed glare at Angelo. “Yes?”
He rested a hip against the wall and leaned closer to me. “You and my son seem close lately.”
“Hmm…” I examined my nails. “When I last dined with the Romano boss, he had more important things to deal with than who his son chose to spend time with.” Snapping my gaze to him, I smiled. “When was the last time you were invited to dinner with the Romano boss?” I laughed. “… or any syndicate head?”
His beady eyes narrowed, and the way he towered over me could easily be construed as a threat. “Have you heard of my grandfather, Ludovico De Luca?”
Who hadn’t?
Crazy ran in the De Luca family, and it started with a man who’d kill his own child. In a world where loyalty and honor knew no bounds, the De Luca family held no place. Damian’s sanity was nothing short of a miracle.
I measured his unspoken threat. “I know infanticide gets you off, but if not for dignity, try to have some self-preservation in that witless skull of yours. When you run this family to the ground, the only person in this town capable of rebuilding it is in that room behind you.”
“Don’t test me, Vitali. Don’t be stupid.” He leaned into my face, and his rancid breath seeped into my nostrils. “You should fear me.”
I laughed, harsh and in his face. “You’re unworthy of my fear.”
It was true. But when Angelo pushed past me, and my hand connected with Damian’s doorknob, I froze as Angelo’s crazed laughter sent chills through my body. The frequent threats. The back whipping. The unhinged behavior. I shook my head and cleared all the ugliness out of my mind.
Angelo wouldn’t kill his own son if I stayed.
Would he?
* * *
You can tell so much
about a person by the
way they leave you.
Redverse Bailey
* * *
“Knight?” I waited a beat as Ren stared into space, her hand raised like she’d been about to open my door. “Princess?” Another beat. “Ren?”
She lifted her head and lowered her hand. “Oh. Sorry. I spaced out.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She moved around me and into my room.
I peeked into the hallway, but it was empty, so I closed the door behind us. “I heard my dad talking to you. What was that about?”
“Nothing.” She laughed as she laid on my bed and closed her eyes. “Has he always been a crazy rambler?”
I crawled onto the bed beside her and grabbed her hand. “For as long as I can remember.”
That was an understatement.
She skimmed her eyes across the room while I toyed with the rings on her right hand. She’d been wearing a dozen or so rings for nearly a week now. It was weird, but she didn’t exactly have the style of a runway model. One of my favorite quirks, actually.
“What’s that?” She tipped her chin to the left.
A facedown picture frame sat on the nightstand beside us. I’d knocked it down as soon as I’d seen it. She took her hand from mine, leaned over, and stood the frame upright. Ludovico De Luca stared back at us. Creepy fucker.
I shrugged, and it shifted the mattress. “My dad put it there a few weeks ago, after prom. Probably to fuck with my head. Who knows why he does what he does?” But he’d be gone soon, and that’d be one less thing for us to worry about. I laughed and leaned over Ren, dwarfing her body as I moved the picture frame facedown again. “I know we’re related, but Ludo was one ugly motherfucker.”
She rested her head on the pillow beneath her and bit her lip. So hot, I felt a jolt straight to my cock. Still hovered above her, I reached a thumb up to part her lips until her teeth no longer dug into them. “What’s up?”
“Let’s have sex!” she blurted. Her face brightened. It was cute if not wildly out of character.
Then again, she’d been like this lately. She was wild and reckless and crazy and so damned unexpected, I had no idea how to handle her.
I arched a brow. “I didn’t know talking about Ludo was such an aphrodisiac.”
She tugged at the bottom of my shirt, her greedy hands eager and frantic in their movements. “Ludo? God, no. But your body is over mine, and you smell good, and you look like you do, and you talk like you do, and you act like you do, and I just want you.” Her tipsy eyes sparkled, drunk with what looked like lust and felt like trouble.
I buried my nose in her neck and grinned against her skin. “You know, I used to think you were like a robot. No emotions. Just articulate words delivered with no expression. Look what I’ve turned you into.”
“Shush.” She closed her eyes.
My mouth trailed up her neck to her jawline, which I peppered with kisses. She tilted her head and met my lips. We’d done this over the last few weeks. School ended. Angelo became more and more unhinged. The De Luca syndicate was falling apart at the seams, and I waited for my father to fall. My only constant nowadays was Ren, and I could do this—be with her—all day.
I could feel it rising in my throat, like an invisible liquid spouting from deep within me. Drowning me. I knew it wasn’t there. I knew it was in my head. But it, like the annoying pounding of my heart, was tangible when Ren was around. She was drowning me, and I didn’t want to be saved.
I deepened our kiss. My tongue stroked the roof of her mouth. She bucked her hips against me, grinding along my erection. Her fingers raked through my hair and tugged. I groaned into her mouth, and she reached between us and slid a hand underneath my jogger sweats and Calvin Kleins.
My cock glided across her soft palm. She wrapped her hands around my erection, and I thrust into her fist. Fucking it. My tongue mimicked the movement of my cock in her mouth. Reaching a hand between us, I pinched her nipples through her bra, so hard they pebbled in an instant.
She cried out into my mouth, and I swallowed her ecstasy. Her hands tore at my shirt until it ripped off. She used her legs to push my sweats and boxers briefs halfway down my legs. So fucking eager.
I leaned back, pulled her pants and underwear off her in one quick movement, and leaned forward again to place an openmouthed kiss between her legs. She cried out when I slid two fingers inside her. She was so, so wet, it dripped down my fingers, and they entered her with ease.
I curled my fingers until her wetness coated them. I pulled them out, tore her shirt in two, and snapped her bra in half. Her bare breasts sprang out, bouncing as the bra snapped. So full and round, I wanted to sink my teeth in them.
Instead, I slid my fingers inside her again—so deep, she arched her back off the bed. I gathered her wetness, slid my fingers out, and spread it around her nipples. My mouth latched onto the pebbled bud, and I sucked off the wetness. Flicking my tongue against it, I bit down.
She jerked her hips forward, and her pussy glided against my erection. My cock slipped past her lips, the head of it entering her. She was so tight, she sucked me in. I wanted to thrust forward, hard and fast, but I stilled.
My eyes closed, and I grit out, “Condom. Nightstand.”
She surprised me by shaking her head. “Can we…?”
“Are you on the pill?”
“IUD. And I’m clean.”
I nodded and slid inside her without another word. The urge to move deep and fast gripped me, but I kept my movements slow and mea
sured in case she was inexperienced. Hooking her leg around me, she pushed me forward until I sank completely into her.
That was all I needed to pick up the pace. Her arms rested beside her head as I moved in and out of her. I grabbed one of her hands, holding it as I pushed inside her as deep as I could. She was so tight. I wanted to come inside her, then take her all over again.
My free hand explored her body. Pinched her nipples. Rubbed slow circles around her clit. Squeezed her hips. Gripped her waist, and pushed her harder onto my cock. I reached between us, gathered her wetness from her clit, and dipped my thumb into her mouth, so she could taste for herself how good she tasted. I could do this all day long. I could live inside her.
She came with her lips wrapped around my thumb. Her moans nipped my skin and shot straight to my cock. I pulled my thumb out of her mouth and pressed a kiss to her lips as I flipped us, so she sat on top of me. Gripping her hips on both sides, I picked up the pace from slow lovemaking to downright fucking.
As I drove into her, faster and faster, angling for her G-spot, her walls clenched around me, and my climax followed. I came inside her, her walls gripping me tightly. My eyes closed for a moment, and I took the time to appreciate this moment.
My father was falling, I was rising, and I had the girl of my dreams with me. I felt her lean forward and press her forehead against mine. My eyes stayed shut, and I breathed her in. Vanilla. Strawberry. That goddamned shampoo of hers mixed with the heady scent of sex. I could breathe her in all day.
“Day, I lov—” She cut herself off, but I knew what she’d been about to say.
Hell, I felt it, too.
For the first time ever, I felt liberated enough to feel this way.
I cupped her face and waited until she opened her eyes and stared into mine. “I’m in love with you.”
“We’re young.”
“I know what I want.”
“Me?”
A smile tipped my lips. “Yes, you.”
She shook my head. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a Vitali.”
And I was a De Luca. Would that always haunt me? No. I would dethrone my father, and I would make De Luca a name to be proud of.
I sat up, lifting her with me. “Pretty soon, my father will no longer have a throne, and there will be nothing in our way.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
This lust-filled fog doused me, but I knew what I felt. I loved her. I fucking loved her. “I’m lucky you’re here.” I closed my eyes and relaxed, my guard the furthest down it had ever been. “I’m lucky they intervened.”
“What?” She widened the gap between us, and her brows pressed together. “Who intervened? I was sent here,” she ground out. “By my father.”
Oh, shit.
I sobered up quickly. The fog washed away like rain pouring down a dirty car. Never once had I spilled about The Benefactor notes to anyone but Cris. Except now, and I didn’t even know why or who sent her here.
Her eyes punished me, threatened consequences if I didn’t tell her the truth. I took her in before relenting, because yes, I wanted her to trust me. “Your dad didn’t send you here.”
That was all I knew. That she was sent here for a reason and not by her dad. I was telling her the truth, and I needed her to trust me.
She shook her head, her face resolute. “Yes, he did. I was there when he told me I had to come here.” She seemed furious. Absolutely pissed. While I understood I’d broken her trust, I also understood she loved me. There had to be something else bugging her.
“Knight—”
Her eyes darted to the side, focused on the nightstand, and returned to me. “Tell me everything you know.”
“I can’t.”
I didn’t know anything, and she didn’t believe me. Trust took so long to build, yet it slipped away so quickly, I couldn’t catch it.
Her throat bobbed. “You’re a liar.”
“Princess, ple—”
“You’re just like the rest of your family. Just like your dad.”
My eyes flashed before I reminded myself she was just angry. She didn’t mean it. This would tide over.
I caressed Ren’s face. “You’re mad. That’s oka—”
She pushed me until I laid flat on my back with her hovering on top. “And you betrayed me. Know this…” She raised her knee, so it pressed painfully against my cock, her chest pressed against mine and lips brushing against my ear as she spoke. “If ever I am gifted the opportunity to betray you, I’ll take it. If life hands me the chance to destroy you, I will. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. I will always want revenge. And you will never stop looking over your shoulder.”
Then, she fled.
She left Devils Ridge.
She left me.
* * *
I could never hurt
him enough to make
his betrayal stop hurting.
And it hurts, in every
part of my body.
Veronica Roth, Insurgent
* * *
Five Years Later
“You don’t smile. It’s kind of creepy.” Cris sends a clown smile my way to make his point. Gone is his laid-back surfer vibe, replaced by a bespoke suit, sharp haircut, and fifty-thousand-dollar Cartier watch.
When I took over the De Luca syndicate, I didn’t just make him my advisor. I made him my underboss—my second-in-command—too. One of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
“Smiling is for children and clowns. Overrated.”
He slides a document to my desk and takes a seat in the leather chair across from me. “Your old man’s been checked into a nursing home. Kind of cruel, considering he’s, like, late forties, and everyone else is on their deathbed.”
“That’s the point. Does he have a roommate?”
“The worst.”
I figure this is worse than prison or death to Angelo. There’s nothing he hates more than the elderly, visits from happy grandchildren, and living without luxury.
Check, check, and check.
“And the other thing I asked for?”
Cris averts his eyes and takes in the office, like he isn’t in here all the damn time. “No.”
“No?”
“No, they haven’t found her. The girl’s gone. Ghosted.” He hesitates, and I know I won’t like what he has to say. “Maybe you should stop trying to find her.”
“Or maybe I should try harder.”
When Ren left my room five years ago, I didn’t think she’d leave Devils Ridge entirely. She dropped off the grid, like only a Vitali could get away with. No matter how much I’ve tried to find her since, I haven’t been able to.
“Some would construe this as creepy.”
He’s right, of course.
We both know it.
I have everything I’ve always said I wanted. Angelo has been dethroned. I’ve dumped him into a nursing home far before his time. I run the De Luca family, everyone is happy, and we’ve been thriving. The Benefactor has disappeared. No more cigars. No more messages. No instructions.
Everything is good.
I should be happy.
But I’m not.
Because Ren’s not here to enjoy it with me.
“I just—”
“You’re my best friend, Damian. I’m the only person in the position to tell you this. Let her go. She left you. She left Devils Ridge. She left the mafia. She doesn’t want this life, and that’s her choice.”
“There’s more to it. There has to be.”
She wouldn’t have just left because I kept the fact that her dad hadn’t sent her here a secret. It was a breach of trust, yes, but it shouldn’t have been a relationship ender. Not for us.
“Remember when my dad was sent to jail, and you told me to let him go. That he’s dead weight?”
“This isn’t the same.” I look to the side and stare at a picture frame on the wall. A quote.
When the wrong p
eople leave your life,
the right things start happening.
Cris got me this when I took over the De Luca syndicate. I thought it referred to Angelo, but now I have to wonder if he meant it for Renata.
He follows my line of sight. “Isn’t it, though? You’re still transfixed on her, and you can’t be happy until you let her go. So, please, just let her go, man. How long is it gonna take? Five more years? Fifty.”
Try never.
I trace the camel bone case on my desk, a relic of the past. “Your advice is noted.”
He nods his head, stands, and leaves with a parting message. “Let her go.”
And he’s right.
I should.
* * *
The bell rings, and my students file out, running past one another.
“Walk, don’t run!” I shout out to them. No use. It’s still chaos.
Sally, one of the other second grade teachers, pokes her head in the doorway. “Some of the teachers and I are headed out for drinks tonight. Would you like to go?”
I shake my head. “I’m headed for my mom’s for the weekend.”
“Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out.”
That’s because I don’t go out. I teach. Stay home. Grade papers. Read a book. Eat takeout. Take baths. Pop out a glass of wine. Go to bed. Wake up. Then, do it all again the next day.
I smile at her. It’s forced, but I doubt she knows that. “Sorry, Sally. My mom’s been begging for a girl’s weekend.”
“Well, you work too hard. You’ve worked here two years, and I haven’t seen you take a break once. That’s not healthy.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.”
Her eyes look uncertain. Maybe she sees past my bullshit, but she says nothing. The people in small-town Connecticut keep to themselves. They’re not the type to ask invasive questions or give me a hard time. That’s good when you’re trying to lay low.