Lorenzo Beretta

Home > Contemporary > Lorenzo Beretta > Page 8
Lorenzo Beretta Page 8

by Abigail Davies


  “I’ve got to head off too.” He smiled down at her. “Maybe next time?”

  She nodded, her cheeks lifting as her smile widened. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I have no doubt,” he replied, then walked away with Uncle Antonio at his side. I should have made them stay. At least then I would have had an extra buffer at the dinner table.

  “And you, Christian?”

  Christian shrugged, glancing at me and then back to Aida. “Sure.” He stepped toward her. “Want me to take that?”

  “Nope.” She kept her smile in place, and I sneered at it. I was getting real damn sick of her smile, but more than that, I was getting frustrated with myself for wanting to see it more. Four days. It had taken four days for her to take me off guard. “I got it.” She drifted past me, turned at the last second so she was only inches from me, then pushed the door open with her back.

  “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. I scraped my palm down my face, trying to make sense of everything around me.

  “Damn is right,” Christian murmured, following her into the dining room.

  I stood there, staring at the door, wondering if I should just turn around. Going in there would only give her more fuel. Right? I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes. I was trapped. Damned if I didn’t and damned if I did.

  My stomach grumbled, making the decision for me, so I pushed open the door, taking in everyone’s faces and the way they were watching Aida standing and dishing up the food onto plates. The first one she placed at my seat, and then she went around the table, serving herself last.

  “This smells so good,” Sofia moaned, bringing her face closer to the pasta.

  “It tastes even better,” Aida said, placing her hands in her lap. “My ma taught me how to make it when I was a little girl.”

  Ma made a noise in the back of her throat. “Sofia would never get in the kitchen with me.” She narrowed her eyes at Sofia and pointed her fork in the air. “No matter what bribery I tried.”

  Aida laughed, the sound a soft tinkle that caused my body to lean forward. I was standing on the periphery, watching them like I wasn’t even here as they shoveled food into their mouths. Everyone but Aida, that was. She was waiting—waiting for me.

  “Do you like to cook, Ma?” Aida asked, giving Ma her full attention. And as her head was turned, I took my opportunity to sit. I didn’t want her looking my way, not when I was fighting in my own head. From the moment she’d arrived at the house, I’d been on edge. Maybe it was because I had all the responsibility on my shoulders now, or maybe it was because I hadn’t been able to get the relief I apparently needed.

  I picked up my fork, trying to block out their conversations, and twirled the bright red sauce-covered goodness on my fork.

  “I do. Though I get to do it very little now.” Ma’s lips turned down into a frown.

  “We could cook together,” Aida offered, and I stopped midway to my mouth. I couldn’t sit here and listen to this. She was becoming part of the family, and I would be damned if that was going to happen. She was here to fulfill the need for me to become boss, not become a permanent fixture.

  “No,” I ground out, cutting my eyes to Aida. “Your place isn’t in the kitchen. We have staff for that.”

  She blinked several times. “Erm…but I like to cook sometimes. And I—”

  “I said no.” I opened my mouth and put the food inside, trying not to give an ounce of reaction at the taste. It was good. No, better than good. It was the best damn food I’d ever tasted. But I wouldn’t admit that. Not now. Not in front of her.

  “Lorenzo,” Ma whispered, but I didn’t look at her. I kept my gaze fixated on Aida, not giving in even a little. She needed to learn her place. And fast.

  Aida glanced down at her untouched plate of food, her head moving just enough to tell me she understood my words.

  All conversation stopped, the atmosphere dropping to ice-cold levels, and for the first time since I’d stepped into the room, I felt at ease. I was back in control.

  LORENZO

  I rubbed at my temples, trying to keep the inevitable headache at bay, but it was no use. It was coming thick and fast, the stress of the last week building up to an impossible level. I’d been boss for two weeks, but that wasn’t what had me losing my damn mind. No, it was the new woman living in my home—my wife—that was driving me insane.

  She was always there, at the dining table, walking around the house, talking to the staff like they were her damn friends. I was sick and tired of hearing her voice, but there was nothing I could do about it. Not only that, but I had more important things to worry about than Aida.

  My uncle Paolo was still hanging around, turning up at the house whenever he felt like it. Add to that the new meeting I had scheduled for next week, I was stressed to the max. And I needed a good fucking.

  I glanced around the room, seeing the finished office, and knew who would be perfect for relieving how I was feeling—Veev. She hadn’t been here for anything but decorating since before the wedding. Maybe that was the problem? I needed to focus on something other than work and my wife.

  A knock sounded on my office door, but I didn’t answer right away. I needed to get myself situated first. So, I stood, sauntered over to the new bar cart with mirrored shelves, and poured myself a finger of whisky. “Come in,” I called, keeping my back to the door. It was a conscious move, one I knew he would take notice of.

  His footsteps echoed from the wooden flooring, then silenced as they met the carpet in my office. I waited, taking a sip of the amber liquid, then turned, capturing his gaze right away. “Uncle,” I greeted, pushing one hand in my pocket.

  “Nephew,” he replied, his tone to the point. “You requested my presence.” Uncle Paolo raised a brow, his lips in a straight line, and I knew he wasn’t happy about it. I’d kept tabs on him from the moment I knew he was in the country, which meant I knew exactly what he’d been doing—and who he’d been having meetings with.

  “I did.” I dipped my head to the side, not making another move closer. “It’s time you left.”

  He laughed, his wrinkles around his eyes becoming more prominent. “I just got here.” He leaned on his cane, getting comfortable. “Why ask me to come here just to tell me to leave?” He knew exactly what I was saying, but acted as though he didn’t, and it made me want to pull my gun out and fire off a clip right into him.

  Fuck.

  I clenched my hand in my pocket, trying not to let my anger show.

  “You’ve been interfering with business.”

  “Have I?” He blinked.

  “Yes, you have.” I swayed toward him but pulled myself back at the last second. He was an expert at acting like nothing affected him, and if there was one thing I was going to learn from him, it would be that. “You have no jurisdiction here.” I raised my glass toward him. “It’s time you went home.”

  “And if I don’t?” He paced toward the sofa, trailing his finger over the brown leather. “What if I want to stay stateside, hmm?” His gaze connected with mine—a clear warning displayed in his eyes. “The Beretta estate is rightfully mine. Your father died, and therefore, it is mine.”

  “No.” I pulled my hand out of my pocket and stepped toward him. The time for being nice had left the building. “This is my birthright. Not yours.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve spoken to The Enterprise.” My heart rate sped up. I knew he’d spoken to them because they’d called me afterward, filling me in on everything he’d told them.

  “I know,” I said, feeling like I had one up on him now. “They told me you tried to get their votes to take over.” I grinned, loving the way his face turned red from anger. “They wouldn’t give them to you.” He opened his mouth, but I held my finger in the air to stop whatever bullshit he was going to say. “And even if you had gotten their votes, it wouldn’t have made a difference. We’re part of The Enterprise by choice. Now that I’m boss, if I want to break away from them, I can.”


  “You wouldn’t—”

  “I would.” I moved over to my desk, leaning on the front of it and crossing my legs at the ankles. “To stop you getting your hands on the business? I’d do it over and fuckin’ over again.”

  “You have no respect!” he shouted, advancing toward me with his cane in the air.

  I was lightning quick, reaching for my gun in the holster strapped to my chest. I held it in the air, pointing it directly at his face. “Any closer, and I’ll empty my clip into your head,” I warned. My hand was steady, my attention laser-focused. “And I won’t blink twice doing it.”

  His chest heaved, his face now turning purple. “You think you can hold a gun at me and get away with it?” He pushed his shoulders back, trying to make himself bigger, but it did nothing to deter me.

  “Yeah, I do.” I pushed up off my desk and took two steps toward him. The muzzle touched his forehead, the sweet feel of it against his skin begging me to squeeze the trigger and be rid of him. Deep down, I knew I couldn’t do that. He was still boss of the Italian operation.

  “My dad told me all about you,” I said slowly. “He told me what you did to get ahead, the massacres you approved to make it to the top.” I pushed the gun into his face, knowing it would leave a mark. “My dad taught me more than you will ever know.” I paused. “He taught me not to hesitate. Not to hold back. But more importantly, he taught me patience.” Slowly, I lowered the gun but kept it firmly in my grip. “Which is why I give a warning.”

  I grinned as I thought about my signature move. The warning was a loss of a limb or extremity. It was usually enough to put people back in their places. There was strength in showing some kind of compassion, but I wasn’t to be taken for a fool. And he was going to find that out. “I give everyone the opportunity to have a second chance.”

  “Weak,” he spat. “You’re weak.”

  I shrugged, not giving a flying fuck what he thought. “That’s your opinion.” I waved the gun toward my half-open office door. “Leave. Leave my house. Leave my country.” I stood to my full height, towering over him. “And don’t come back unless you’re invited.”

  He didn’t make a move. He just stared at me, trying to search for something in my gaze, but he wouldn’t find anything. I’d allowed him to stay this long out of respect, but now I was done. I was done listening to my captains and soldiers tell me who he’d been meeting. I was done finding out he’d tried to undercut my deals.

  I. Was. Done.

  Uncle Paolo’s shoulders slumped, his gaze finally leaving mine. I smirked as the fight left his body, but I knew better than to let my guard down with him. He’d been the boss in Italy for longer than I’d been alive, and I had no doubt that this wouldn’t be the last I heard from him.

  But as he walked out of my office without saying another word, it felt like my first victory. A victory I knew I had to celebrate.

  CHAPTER 7

  LORENZO

  I pulled up my zipper as Veev pushed her feet into her ridiculously high heels, half watching her and half watching the time on my Rolex attached to my wrist.

  I was cutting it close to Aida being home, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. She may have been living in this house and taken my last name, but she was a means to an end, the one thing I needed to get what I wanted.

  “Same time next week?” Veev asked, doing up the buttons on her red silk blouse. She left the top two undone, her cleavage peeking out at me. To any other man, it would have been alluring, but they did nothing for me. Veev was yet another means to an end. She sated a need I had—nothing more, nothing less.

  “I’ll let you know,” I said, moving around to my desk and sitting on the leather chair. I had work to do, especially now that Uncle Paolo was gone. The legacy I intended to build would take time, money, but most of all, connections. Connections that I’d worked on for years, and now it was time to cash them in.

  “Okay.” She grinned, knowing that she’d be back next week. There was no doubt that she was becoming another fixture in my life, only she was easier to get rid of than my wife. I flared my nostrils as Veev flitted out of my office, her heels clicking on the floor as she made her way out of the house. She’d only been in the mansion a handful of times since I’d moved back in here, but it didn’t seem to faze her—the extra guards or the possibility of running into my ma.

  “You’re playing with fire,” a new voice said. I looked up, my gaze meeting Christian’s.

  I raised a brow at him. “I’m always playing with fire.” I spread my arms wide, grinning. “It’s what I do.”

  His eyes didn’t move off of me as he stepped fully into my office and shut the door behind him. The door only ever got shut when something important needed discussing, so I straightened, preparing myself for what he was about to tell me. We’d been changing up how we did things—how we distributed our goods—and so far, it had all gone to plan. “You’re gonna push her away before you’ve even gotten started.”

  I laughed, shaking my head as I leaned back in my seat. “Got started on what?” I tapped the arm of my chair with my fingertip. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Christian sighed, a sound unlike him. “Aida.”

  I screwed up my face, already tired of this conversation. “I married her to take my rightful place, Christian, nothing more than that.”

  “I know you did.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “But that don’t mean you have to push her away.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping. “People are noticing.”

  “And?” I shrugged, not liking where this conversation was going. My personal life was personal for a reason, and I didn’t like the fact that Christian was in here schooling me about it. “If I wanna fuck Veev, then I’ll fuck her.” I ground my teeth together, trying to keep my emotions at bay. “Aida doesn’t get a goddamn say.”

  “Never said she did,” Christian murmured. “Everyone knows why you got married, but that doesn’t mean that you need to flaunt it in their faces.” His brows rose, waiting for me to say something, but when I didn’t, he continued, “You have enemies, ones that are waiting for a chance to pounce on one of your mistakes.”

  I blew out a breath, understanding what he was saying. My enemies were closer than anyone knew, enemies who I kept close—like The Enterprise. All they needed was something for them to jump on, and right then, I couldn’t afford for that to happen. I needed to build the family up, not destroy it before I’d even gotten started.

  “What the hell do you suggest I do, then?” I tilted my head to the side, my nostrils flaring.

  “People aren’t seeing you out with her. You haven’t even been to church since you got married.”

  “Then I’ll go to church.” I could hear my voice getting higher, my frustration over everything that had happened since my dad died boiling over. “Fuck's sake. I never wanted any of this.”

  Christian stood. His face was carefully neutral as he said, “Neither did she.” He blinked. “Don’t forget that.”

  “Are you serious?” I stood, unable to tamp anything down any longer. “I paid her fuckin’ parents so I could marry her. I’m the reason her dad has been able to employ someone new and isn’t working every waking hour.” I pounded on my chest. “I set her sister and niece up in their own fuckin’ apartment.” I heaved a breath. “I provide for her, and I don’t ask her for anything other than to be my wife to the outside world.”

  The silence stretched in the room, and Christian’s eyes darkened. He’d always been my best friend, but now that I was boss, there was a line he wouldn’t cross. But that hadn’t stopped him when I was his captain. He was the only person around me who didn’t placate me, and right then, I wished he would have. I didn’t need him pointing out all of the flaws in my life, not when I had a ton of things on my plate.

  “You asked her to give up her life.” I opened my mouth, but he didn’t stop. “The night you went to see her parents, you know where she was?”

  I frowned, wondering where
he was going with this. “The fuck do I care?”

  Christian chuckled. “She was on a date.”

  My muscles froze, my brain short-circuited. She was on a date? Why hadn’t I been told? Why had he left it until now to inform me? I narrowed my eyes on him and clenched my hands at my sides. I didn’t want to admit the thought of Aida on a date with another guy angered me, but it did. She may not have been mine in all the ways a traditional wife was, but she held my family name. She was part of this home, whether I liked it or not.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I lied. It did matter. It mattered a fuckin’ lot. Was she still seeing this guy? He would have told me sooner if she was, right?

  “If you’re not careful,” Christian said, moving toward the office door. “She’ll give up on you and turn to whatever guy who gives her the attention that she needs.” He halted at the door, his last parting words: “Then where will you be?”

  I stared at the door as he left, leaving behind a shitstorm in my head. He was right, but so was I. I didn’t want to let Aida think that there was more going on between us than there actually was, but I needed to keep her close. I needed her to be close enough so there was still hope within her. It was a balancing act, one I was afraid I wouldn’t pull off.

  AIDA

  I closed my bedroom door behind me, my head down as I searched through my purse, making sure I had everything I needed to attend church. Church on Sundays was a sacred tradition to all of the Italian families I knew. I’d been attending every week for my entire life, not missing a single service. And today was no different.

  The Beretta family went too, only they sat at the front of the church, their own pew kept open just for them. I hadn’t grown up that way. Us Riccis usually sat at the back, merging with the other families that lived in the city. We didn’t like to be seen, but it was different now—everything was different.

 

‹ Prev