Giving her a satisfied nod, he continued to walk away.
The idea of meeting Vincent’s family was unsettling. And the thought of doing it in the same room as her family was even worse. Especially since they would all be carrying guns.
6
Merger
Dante had rented out the entire back room of the restaurant so they could talk in private. The long dinner table was packed with members from both families. Sal, Nik and Trey sat at the far end of the table with a select crew. Dante, Rafe and a few others were to the left. Among the mobsters, Bela felt as out of place as a snowman on the beach, but it helped to have Vincent right next to her, within arm’s reach.
She still wasn’t sure why her father had insisted she come, but meeting Vincent’s father was intimidating. Dante Marcano looked so scary and cold…and he carried himself in a manner that showed he’d ruled the streets for a very long time. She doubted much would make him hesitate and wondered why he would want to call a truce. Hadn’t he been the one to start this war?
“This feud between our families has lasted ten years,” Dante began. “A decade. And considering our lifespan, that’s a long time.” He looked toward Bela and Vincent when he added, “But I’ve come to realize if our own children can manage to find common ground, then why can’t we?”
Sal didn’t respond yet, he continued to sip his scotch and listen.
“I propose we join forces…unite our clans and run the city together,” he said. “No more threats of war. No more casualties. We’ll still have our own territories, but we’ll rule them together—in peace.”
“It sounds like a nice idea,” Sal said. “But how do I know you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?”
“Because in addition to my word, I’m also offering you my son. My first born.” He motioned to Rafe, sitting next to him. “If he married your daughter, it would unite both of our families in law and under God.”
Bela felt her mouth drop in shock. She exchanged a worried glance with Vincent—who looked just as thrown by this as she was—and then her gaze darted down the table to her father. To her horror, he seemed like he was considering it.
“I know it will require a sacrifice for the both of you.” Dante’s gaze drifted to Vincent, then Bela and back again. “But peace never comes without a price, and I think it’s a fair one.”
“Oh, you do?” Bela shot back. “You think it’s fair for me to leave the man I love and marry his brother just because you two can’t shake hands and make-up? This can’t be the only way to seal the truce. You’re just doing this to be a dic—”
“Bela,” Trey’s voice called her down. When she looked at him, he just shook his head, signaling for her to be quiet.
Was she just supposed to shut up and be still while they bartered her freedom as if they lived in medieval times and not the 21st century? Why couldn’t she throw her glass of wine in that jerk’s face if she wanted? What he was proposing was ridiculous!
Under the table, Vincent stretched his hand out and placed it on Bela’s hand, resting on her lap. Without looking at her and instead using those dark eyes to analyze the faces at the dinner table, he gave her hand a squeeze. She placed her other hand on top of his, clutching it tight.
Sal spoke up, “Give me a few days to consider your offer.”
Her eyes bulged at her father, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Aside from that one mention of marriage, she might as well have been invisible to them.
“Of course,” Dante said. “I’ll give you 48 hours.”
Pushing his chair back, he stood and left the small dining room, his men following him. Alone with her family, Bela turned to look at her dad. “Tell me you’re not actually considering this.”
“You’ve always talked about making peace with them,” Sal replied. “Now you want to walk away from an opportunity to do just that?”
“Yes,” she said. “Especially since making peace means I have to marry Vincent’s brother. You can’t do this to me.”
“This isn’t about you,” Trey said when her father didn’t respond. “This is about ending a feud that’s lasted a decade.”
She gave him a betrayed, disbelieving glare. He was in support of this crazy idea? Her own brother? “But—”
“Gio,” Sal said, looking to the bodyguard on her right. “Take her home.”
Gio stood on command.
“Dad, wait,” she pleaded. “Can we just talk about this a minute?”
“Later,” Sal said. He gave Gio another nod.
Gio reached for her arm, but she jerked it away. “Come on,” he whispered.
“No! Dad, you can’t just—”
“Bela, go home.” Sal’s eyes locked with hers in an unmistakable warning.
Knowing any attempts to argue would just remain futile, she resigned and stood up, yanking her arm from Gio’s grasp in the process. She shot Vincent a worried look over her shoulder as she left.
In the car, she was quiet while Gio drove her home. Then she planted herself by the front door and waited for her father to come home. Sitting on the steps of the foyer, her body faced the door. This gave her a clear view of the circular driveway outside. She planned to unleash her temper and her tongue the second she saw him again.
Gio sat a few steps down, angled toward her and using the step between them as a surface to play Solitaire. “You sure you’re not up for a game of Blackjack?” he asked, looking up at her.
She shook her head, keeping her gaze focused on the door.
“War, then?”
This time, she angled her head at him just long enough to give him a dirty look.
“Right,” he said. “Bad idea.”
It took two hours of waiting, but finally Sal and Trey entered. Right away, she noticed Vincent wasn’t with them, and it made her worry even more.
“Where is Vincent?” she asked as she stood from her seat on the staircase.
“Setting up another meeting,” Sal said.
“Already?” she asked, the nervous pit in her stomach growing. “You must’ve decided.”
She looked past him to Trey, and her suspicions were confirmed. It took one glance at the remorseful expression on his face for her to know what decision they had made.
“No.” She shook her head in denial. “No way.”
He motioned for her to follow him inside his office. Once he’d shut the door, she turned to him with her arms crossed. “I won’t do it. I’ll run away first.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes,” she said, emphasizing each word. “I will.”
“No,” he said, his tone matching hers. “You won’t. Because I know something you don’t want me to know. Something about Vincent.”
Beads of sweat gathered around her brow and hairline. Still, she struggled to keep her voice steady and convincing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” He locked the door and then walked toward her. “And I haven’t done anything about it because it doesn’t worry me. But I bet Trey would feel differently.”
She kept her gaze on her father—so cold and so ruthless. It baffled her how they could even be related.
“In fact, if Trey were to discover this information, I’d bet he would fly off the handle and kill him without even asking me first.”
She felt her eyes narrow into a defensive scowl.
“What we’re about to discuss stays in this room,” he said, taking on his order-giving tone. “Understood?”
She nodded, listening.
“You’re not going to run. You won’t try to get out of it. You will marry Rafe,” he said, emphasizing the name. “Or I’ll make sure Vincent is dead before dawn.”
She felt her body sway. Grabbing onto the back of a chair, she steadied herself.
“If you tell Vincent I’m onto him, I’ll kill him anyway.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Nobody likes a rat, but even rodents can be useful. Tonight, Dante held out
an olive branch. An opportunity I plan to seize. And I won’t let anything—not even you—get in the way.”
“You don’t even want peace, do you?” she asked in bewilderment. “You just want them to trust you. And once they do, you’ll kill them all, won’t you?”
He smirked. “My long-term plan is none of your business.”
“How can you call yourself my father?” she asked in disbelief. “You don’t love me. If you did, you wouldn’t ask me to do this!”
“We all make sacrifices for the family, Bela,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”
“You’re not even giving me a choice—”
“You have a choice,” he said matter-of-factly. “You can lose Vincent forever and we end up going to war with the Marcanos. A lot of people will die, families will lose fathers and civilians could get caught in the crossfire, and you’ll have to live the rest of your life knowing it was all because of you.”
Something in her gut twisted. She was sure she would throw up at the thought of innocent blood shed by a mob war.
“Or you can marry Rafe,” he said. “Vincent will survive, peace will thrive. And you’ll know it’s all because of your sacrifice.”
She sank into a nearby chair as the weight of this decision settled over her.
“Tell me,” he said. “Which is it going to be?”
7
As soon as she left her dad’s office, she instructed Gio drive her to the motel where Vincent was staying. When he opened the door, she rushed straight into his arms. Only then, once those sculpted arms were around her and their bodies were touching, did she weep. He stepped back a few paces and then pushed the door shut with his foot, closing them in the room alone. His arms tightened around her in a python grip as if he’d been waiting for her for hours. Burying his face in her hair, she heard him inhale a deep, unsteady breath.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered into his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.” He lifted one hand up to cradle the nape of her neck tenderly. “I’m so sorry they’re doing this to you.”
“What was your dad thinking?” she asked, pulling back enough to look at him. “Why would he even suggest something like this?”
“To punish me, maybe?” he said. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go. We’ll do what you always said and just take off.”
“Now you want to run?” she asked with a bitter scoff. This new nightmare seemed to fit their run of bad luck. Turning from him, she wiped her cheeks. “Now that I can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I just can’t,” she said.
“Then what are you going to do? Are you going to go through with it?” She could hear the concern in his voice even though her back was to him. “Bela, look at me and tell me you’re not going to do it.”
The desperation in his tone brought on another swarm of tears. They clouded her voice, making it difficult to speak.
“Look at me.” He took her by the elbow and turned her to face him. He peered deep into her eyes, reading her very soul. “Tell me you’re not going to marry my brother.”
Her voice trembled as she said in a heartbroken whisper, “I have to.”
“Why?” he demanded, those analytical eyes making her feel like she was being interrogated. “Someone said something to make you do this. What was it?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of them,” he said. “Just tell me what happened and we’ll face it together.”
The more he spoke, the more her heart began to hurt. A couple tears escaped, leaving tiny wet trails down her cheeks. Bringing her palm up, she wiped them away and glanced at the floor; anywhere but his wounded eyes.
“I care about you too much to let them do this to you,” he said. “Too much to watch you marry my brother.”
“I don’t want this either.” Angry tears festered in her eyes again, skewing her vision of him. Blinking them back, she tried to remain strong. “Trust me. I really, really don’t want to do this, but I don’t see a way out.”
He covered his mouth as he began to pace, thinking. “It’s okay,” he said, his breath quickening as if his thoughts were rushed. “It’s fine. I’ll just move up my timetable.”
“What?”
“You’ll agree to marry him,” he said. “But before the wedding happens, I’ll find whatever proof I need to arrest your dad. Once he’s in jail, there’s nothing holding you to the arrangement. Then we’re free to run.” With a wry, hopeful smile he added, “Sipping pina coladas on the beach.”
After more lies and deception, she thought. Still, it was the only version of her future she was willing to accept. “All right,” she said. “But I’m counting on you to arrest him, or I’ll be stuck—”
“I know.” He rushed forward, pulling her into another tight, desperate squeeze. With those strong, sturdy arms wrapped around her, she somehow knew this messy situation would work itself out. Even though it seemed impossible, she trusted him to protect her from it. “I don’t care what it takes,” he whispered. “I’m going to get you out of this. I promise.”
~~~
“Just a little bit farther,” Trey said, holding her hand as they weaved down the sidewalk. They came to a building. Pulling open the door, he held it for her.
“Would you just tell me where we’re going?” Mandi asked.
“Would you just let me surprise you?” With a teasing smile, he ushered her into the building. It was dark inside and she didn’t see any windows. “Okay, ready?”
“Yes,” she said with a giggle.
He flipped a switch, illuminating the room with lights. Large fluorescent bulbs came on, one at a time, allowing her to see the room was a dance studio. Complete with wall-to-wall mirrors, balance beams and a perfectly polished wooden floor. The sight of it took her breath away. “What’s going on?”
“It’s yours.” Standing in the center of the room, he spread his arms out. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “But…”
“I remembered what you said that night, about how you wanted to open a dance studio. Remember? You said those who can’t do, teach.” He chuckled. “And you were so upset about me firing you, I thought this might be a nice compromise. You still get to do what you love and…frankly I won’t have to be so jealous all the time.”
Words escaped her grasp. She was touched he’d remembered something she’d just mentioned one night, but at the same time, there were so many obstacles standing in the way. “I don’t have a teaching license,” she said. “And the baby will be here within the year, then what?”
“I know a guy who can take care of the paperwork and get you whatever you need. When the baby comes, you can hire a substitute. You’ll still have this place waiting for you whenever you’re ready to come back to work.” Taking her hand, he led her across the room. “I’m working on getting you a list of clients. A lot of the guys I work with have daughters and every little girl loves to dance.”
He pushed open a door and turned on the light, revealing a room full of lockers and benches. “Here’s a locker room, and there’s an office in the back.”
“This is incredible,” she said.
He beamed a proud smile. “I told you I’d take care of you.”
There was a lot to think about, but she found her mind brimming with possibilities and hope as she looked around the empty dance studio. She pictured it filled with little girls practicing pirouettes and this brought a smile.
“And, I know how you like your independence, so the deed will be in your name. It won’t be tied to me or my business at all. This place…” he motioned to the building around him. “This place is legit. Minus a few forged degrees, of course.”
In that moment, she couldn’t help but feel like she was sleeping with the devil. He offered her the world—all her dreams on a silver platter, but at the expense of her soul. When the devil looked like Trey DeLuca and proved time after time h
e was madly in love with you, who could resist?
8
Engagement Party
Two days after the dinner from hell, the families threw a gala to announce the engagement. Claudia chose a stunning champagne colored, one-shoulder dress for Bela to wear. Elegant beadwork detailed the sweetheart bodice and single strap on the floor length gown as delicate empire ruching hugged the bodice tight. From there, layers of gauzy chiffon flowed to the floor. The gown made her feel like a princess and, at one fell swoop, it depressed her that it was wasted on such a twisted occasion.
A small platform sat to the far side of the room where she was instructed to wait until the announcement was made. Until then, guests mingled in the grand ballroom, with its towering ceilings and polished hardwood floors. Tables set up on either side of the room held an array of Italian food, while waiters circled the room with trays of appetizers and glasses of Champagne.
Finally, Sal and Dante approached the microphone in the center of the stage and called for everybody’s attention.
In the crowd, Bela spotted Vincent. Wearing his usual sleek, black-on-black suit, he was planted at the bar and drinking a glass of what looked like Scotch on the rocks. Knowing this must be killing him, she couldn’t bear to watch and forced herself to look away.
“Welcome dear friends, family and associates,” Sal began. “We invite all of you here tonight to celebrate the union of our families.”
Standing beside her father, Dante motioned for Bela and Rafe to stand. They went on to explain how this merger would bring peace to the streets and profit to everyone. Then Sal and Dante stepped back, guiding their children to center stage.
Turning to Bela, Rafe made a big show of kneeling on one knee. With a quick glance at the crowd, she saw all eyes were on them—even Vincent’s—and felt the air in the room thicken. It turned so hot on stage, she could barely breathe.
Rafe pulled a small box out of his pocket and offered up a dazzling ring. A circle of tiny, sparkling stones encased a princess cut diamond. When he slid the golden band on her finger, it felt heavier than she imagined it could.
Code of Silence: Cosa Nostra #2 Page 3