by Bethany-Kris
For the first time since Terrance’s death, Abriella found herself questioning her mother’s reason for going to the office that morning. Sara had not needed to go to the office to see Terrance unless that was something she regularly did. Abriella hadn’t known her mother to do that, but apparently there was a lot about her family that she wasn’t aware of.
The affair between Sara and Terrance had lasted for years. If both of the Trentini sisters’ paternity was in question, then it was possible the affair has lasted a lot longer than anyone actually knew.
No wonder Alessa was curious.
Sara sucked in a ragged breath. “It’s no wonder Joel despises me. Look at what I’ve done, and who I am.”
“Someone who loves?” Peter asked quietly.
“Don’t, Peter.”
“Well, what else do you want me to say? Do you want me to lie, to call you a whore like Joel has done and like your father did? I’ve never done any of that and I won’t. I can’t let you do it, either. Self-deprecation looks good on no one, sweetheart.”
“You know what I’ve done. You have every right to call me those things if you wanted.”
“But I won’t.” Peter sighed heavily. “I never understood, Sara, but I wasn’t in your mind. I know you love me, and that you loved him. You didn’t want to choose, but I was happy as we were. I made my own mistakes with other women because it was easy and I didn’t have a reason not to. I pretended like I didn’t know what you were doing. What was already there just grew and no one even noticed. That was my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” Sara said, barely above a breath.
“Me, too.”
“It hurts you, though.”
“But I love you,” Peter said like that was the only important thing.
“I know.” Sara smiled sadly. “And I do love you. Sometimes, that’s what makes it worse. I was so over my head, Peter.”
“You’re still above water.”
“Barely.”
“Stop coming back here,” Peter told her firmly. “You can’t keep doing this, because it does nothing, Sara.”
“You’re wrong. It does do something.”
“What then?”
“It reminds me that there was a time when it wasn’t different, when it was marked by him, and not his … his body and his blood. But then it hurts again.”
“No more tears,” Peter murmured. “Please.”
“Why don’t you hate me?” Sara asked.
“Because I love you. And that was enough for me to overlook what you did to me, Sara. All your lies, the affair, and our daughters.”
“I don’t know who the girls belong—”
“I know, but they’ve always been mine,” Peter interjected quickly.
“Don’t you want to know for sure if they are or aren’t yours?”
“No.”
Sara slumped back against the wall. Abriella watched the man she knew as her father wipe more wetness from her mother’s cheeks with a tenderness that spoke of familiarity and love. Not for one second did Abriella doubt what she heard Peter tell his wife.
Turning away from her parents’ private moment, Abriella headed back down the stairs as quietly as she had walked up them. She shouldn’t have listened for as long as she did.
Their situation was difficult. It was one Abriella didn’t understand, and clearly one she wouldn’t ever be able to sympathize with. Some would call her mother a whore, and her father a weak man.
Abriella wouldn’t. She wouldn’t judge her parents for their errors and poor judgment. She wouldn’t hurt them for their secrets, or use them for her own gain. They had suffered enough from their choices and actions toward one another.
Her mother was human.
Her father was human.
Humans make mistakes.
They forgave.
They loved.
Abriella knew she wasn’t the same as her parents. Her forgiveness was not easily handed out, and her understanding only went as far as her pain did. Tommas’ name echoed right along with her punishing thoughts that constantly revolved around a man who never left the back of her mind.
Because Tommas was always there.
He’d gotten under her skin long ago.
Abriella almost wished she could hate Tommas enough to stay away.
But she couldn’t.
The itch was back under her skin with a few simple thoughts about Tommas and nothing more. It was a constant ache Abriella couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard she tried. Twice since the Christmas party when she had told Tommas to stay away from her, Abriella found herself seeking him out to soothe the urge beating in her heart.
Just to be close and just to see him. Being close led to a touch, and once he touched her, Abriella was lost.
If her father was strong enough to forgive and trust after all that his wife had done to him, why wasn’t Abriella strong enough to give her lover the same thing?
She was going to fail at staying away from Tommas.
Again.
CHAPTER THREE
Tommas cleaned his desk area of paperwork, sliding documents back into their respective files until he could get back to them another evening. Respirare was the only one of his clubs that he managed hands-on. His dozen others were looked after by hired managers who were paid a decent wage to turn their cheek to any illegal happenings when it went on.
Respirare, however, was Tommas’ safe zone. He could personally control who came in and out because he worked there every night the club was open. He controlled the workers and their loose lips when he needed his secrets kept quiet.
Secrets like Abriella.
Lately, there hadn’t been a reason for his workers to get their extra bonuses on their checks what with Abriella not coming around like she sometimes did.
Tommas chanced a look at the decorative clock hanging on his office wall. At well after two in the morning, the club was closed. The business’s schedule was tight. Last call came just before one, and the patrons had to be out of the venue twenty minutes later at the latest. Cleanup and prep was quickly followed by the staff before they were out of the joint by two.
His floor and bar manager was always the last person to leave. The man let Tommas know when he was locking up for the night. Tonight had been no exception.
Leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, Tommas pressed the pads of his fingers into his temples to relieve some of the tension headache that had been plaguing him for the last week and a half. There wasn’t a pain killer or drink on hand that would make the damned thing go away.
“Tired?”
Tommas straightened in the chair, his boots snapping on the floor with a crack as his eyes flew wide. He found where the voice had come from almost instantly. Damian stood in the doorway with a lit cigarette dangling between two fingers and a curious glint in his gaze.
“Someday, you’re going to get your ass shot for doing nonsense like that,” Tommas warned his cousin. “You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack, D.”
Damian smirked. “That’s kind of hard to do when the whole reason I sneak up on people is usually to kill them, Tommy.”
True enough.
His cousin was the hit man, after all.
Tommas let it go.
“What are you doing here?” Tommas asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Damian lifted his cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled a cloud of smoke into the office. “You’re predictable, by the way. You need to change that.”
“Pardon?”
Damian waved a hand high. “This place, your club. Your schedule is predictable. You make it easy to find where you’re at on any given night. On weekdays, you’re usually at one of your restaurants. On the weekend, you’re always here.”
Tommas cleared his throat. “It makes for an easy target.”
“Yeah. Maybe change it up for a while. At least until things calm down and we know what’s going on.”
“I spend my weekends working here for a reason, D.”
Dami
an’s expression was unreadable. “I’m aware. Keep that shit up and she’ll get you killed for it, too.”
Tommas couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised that Damian knew exactly why he spent weekend after weekend running his club. It was two of the only days when Abriella’s dogs were a little less watchful of her. Joel usually spent time away on the weekends, and Abriella used that to her advantage to lose the enforcers trailing her.
She always came here to Tommas.
Or she used to.
“Yeah, I get it,” Tommas finally said. “When did you show up?”
“A few minutes ago. I figured I should make sure you’re still alive, since you’ve been as quiet as a mouse for the last little while.”
Tommas relaxed into the leather office chair. “I’ve been taking some time to think everything over.”
“Think what over?”
“When I visited Theo a week and a half ago, it made me realize something.”
“What is that?” Damian asked.
“I don’t have a great deal of allies left in Chicago,” Tommas said quietly. “The DeLuca crew is out until they have a new boss to answer to, and the Conti side of things is Switzerland when it comes to everyone else.”
“Unless provoked, you mean.”
“I won’t provoke a man with a pregnant wife into aligning himself with me just so that I might have a better number to go against Joel with, D. Yes, I could easily force Adriano Conti’s hand into turning on Joel, but unless it’s absolutely needed, I can’t see the point. Widowing Alessa Trentini before her child is even born isn’t the right thing to do here.”
“Fair enough,” his cousin replied.
“But on the upside,” Tommas continued, running his hand through his short, dark hair, “… Joel is in the same predicament that I’m in. No allies to name. A crew of his own to protect and streets to manage. We’re on equal footing where that is concerned.”
“What is the problem, Tommy?”
Tommas chewed over his thoughts. He’d always been the kind of man who thought before he spoke, because that was the way of a smarter man. Emotional people liked to shoot off at the mouth first and then deal with the consequences later. He didn’t have time for that nonsense.
“What about outside of Chicago?” Tommas mused.
Damian glanced away at the question.
Tommas didn’t miss it.
“What?” Tommas asked.
“I think that could be an easy route to take if you went to the right families with the best offers.”
“A family like the Marcellos?”
“Just like them,” Damian confirmed. “I know who they don’t want as a boss down here; I also know that if shit doesn’t start quieting down soon, they’ve promised to make their way here and finish it up themselves.”
“Huh,” Tommas said under his breath.
“But be careful of who else you talk to where other families are concerned, Tommy.”
“Joel is a snake.”
“He is, and he’s done those rounds outside of Chicago when Riley was coming at him. Be mindful of families that haven’t already taken issue with Joel in some way outside of Chicago. You don’t know who might be aligned with him until it’s too late and you’re in their den.”
“Thanks for the info.”
Tommas cleared off his desk and put the laptop he used into the bag hanging off the office chair. Standing, he slung the bag over his shoulder.
“Time for some sleep. I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” Tommas explained.
Damian nodded. “How’s your mother doing?”
“Drunker than ever. I hired a girl to look after the house. Half of the time, Serena doesn’t even realize someone is there with her. But it makes me feel better to know someone is keeping an eye on her when I can’t.”
“Sorry.”
Tommas shrugged. “I couldn’t do it, man.”
“Hmm?”
“Kill her,” Tommas said lower. “Laurent was easy, like breathing. Maybe it was because he’d never really felt like my father for a long time, so pulling the trigger was simple. He fucked me over when he went off half-cocked and almost got Abriella killed in the process. But my mother? I know she’s not a saint, D, and I know she put us kids through hell as we grew up, but she’s a victim in her own way, too.”
Damian blew out a heavy exhale. “You want me to do it? It’d be quick, painless, and no mess if you want. It could look like a suicide, for that matter.”
As cruel as it made Tommas, he actually considered the offer.
“No,” he settled on saying.
Damian didn’t question Tommas on his answer. Tommas was grateful.
“By the way,” Damian said.
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t have to mess with the locks to get in earlier.”
Tommas tossed his cousin a look. “Pardon?”
“You have a guest out on the floor, man. She must have let herself in with the keys you gave her or something. I’ll see you later.”
Tommas was already leaving the office before Damian had even finished talking.
“Ella.”
Tommas dropped his messenger bag on the bar and took a couple of steps toward the woman sitting on the edge of the stage. Respirare sported a raised platform that rested four feet above the club’s floor in the center of the venue. Depending on the night, the platform could be used for a variety of things to entertain the guests with.
“Later,” Tommas heard Damian call from his far right.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tommas watched his cousin disappear out of one of the side exits. Once he was alone with Abriella, Tommas gave her all of his attention. The sight of her sitting there, waiting for him like she had done so many nights before, was all too familiar to him.
It soaked into his system like a drug.
Comfort.
Need.
Hunger.
It wasn’t anything new, but it never felt old.
Abriella’s fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of the platform until her knuckles were turning white from the pressure. Tommas kept the distance between them to a couple of feet. It’d been a good month or more since she had come anywhere near him.
Why was she here?
“Hi,” Abriella said.
“Hi.”
Abriella grabbed the tumbler glass resting beside her and lifted it for a drink. “I hope you don’t mind, but I poured myself something while I was waiting for you to finish up in the back.”
Tommas didn’t give a damn. “As long as it’s not a rum drink, Ella.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The girl couldn’t drink rum if her life depended on it.
“Is your brother out of town or something?” he asked.
Abriella sipped from her drink before setting it back down. “No.”
“But you came here anyway?”
“I turned the cameras off and the alarm for the back door. I walked for a bit and then I called a cab. I wasn’t going to come. I wanted a break or something. Time to breathe.”
Tommas’ fingers ached to reach out and grab his longtime lover, but he forced the urge back. “Is that so?”
Abriella laughed bleakly. “Before I even realized it, I was already walking in this direction. The cab brought me the rest of the way.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m aware, Tommy.”
“You told me to stay away and to leave you alone. You’re making it terribly goddamn hard on me to do those things when you keep seeking me out like this, Ella. You’ll leave here, like you have the last couple of times, making me feel like I did something wrong; you’ll fuck me, but you’ll leave me feeling dirty, making me think you hate me all over again. If that’s your goal tonight, get your pretty ass off that stage and get out. I don’t need you to fuck me up like that again. I have enough problems right now, girl.”
Abriella blinked, a wetness coating her bottom lashes. “I’m so angry with you.”
Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. Pained, filled to the brim with longing, and so tired, but it was still just a breath of air whispering to him.
“I’m not going to keep apologizing,” Tommas said.
“Why not? Don’t I matter enough for you to want to keep apologizing until I forgive you for being such an asshole?”
“You know you matter. You don’t need me to tell you how much you mean to me, Ella. I’ve told you for years in a hundred different ways. I won’t keep apologizing to you because it won’t make a difference. Your stubbornness won’t allow you to let your anger go enough that you can see beyond it all. Your bitterness is bred too deep. It’s your only fucking flaw, but I never cared until you turned it on me.”
“I—”
“Don’t bother,” Tommas interrupted sharply. “We both know it’s true. So I hurt you, Ella. I hurt you because I’d hoped that what I was trying to do with Riley and Evelina would outweigh your anger about it all in the end when you were free of your brother to do what you wished. I did it for you and you know it. I can’t help that it didn’t go according to plan.”
“I just wanted you to tell me,” Abriella said, anger heating her eyes when she turned back on him. “And what you did instead was prove to me everything that I already knew.”
Tommas barked out a laugh and took a step forward. “Exactly, Ella. You’ve been waiting for four years just to see me fuck something up. You’ve been waiting for me to prove how little I care about you. You want me to be just like everybody else because that would be so much fucking easier for you than admitting that you might actually give a shit about us, or that you might love me. Right?”
Abriella’s lips drew thin. “You don’t know a thing.”
“I know everything that’s important about you. I know why it hurt when I didn’t tell you about the fake engagement to Evelina, because you’ve never been able to be even close to the same thing with me publically. We’ve had to hide it. Privately, you’ve always been mine, but you always felt that if people knew the truth, they would compare you to your mother. And when someone else had to stand at my side, even if it was just for show, it made you feel like exactly what you were trying to hide: my whore.