by Sam Mariano
“And you would’ve punished her?”
“Not for that, no, but Mia doesn’t know that. If she wanted to tell Meg I hurt her, that would’ve been her right, but I don’t think most people in my situation would share that sentiment, so why would she assume otherwise? I thought she might tell if she got the chance, but her decision to keep quiet makes more logical sense. It also benefits her if I’m preoccupied with Meg; I’m someone else’s problem that way, less chance I’ll swing back in her direction,” he adds lightly.
I’m already shaking my head. “You’re wrong. Mia didn’t lie for you out of fear. She did it from a place of love.”
Heaving a sigh, he says, “Francesca, of course you assume that—”
“I’m not assuming,” I interrupt, watching his face for a reaction. “I asked her.”
He keeps his poker face steady.
“If she even remembers you threatening her, you couldn’t tell. She wasn’t afraid you would seek retribution. She just didn’t want to hurt you. She wants you to be happy because she cares about you. And she likes you, I can tell, she just doesn’t think you actually like her so she doesn’t think it’s an option.”
“When did you talk to her? Where?”
“Today. At her house. I went over to ask Vince to help me move some heavy stuff at the bakery after I closed up, but he had to work. I had Mia alone and I was curious, so…”
“You talked to her at her house.”
I nod, watching him. “In her living room. On her couch.”
“Okay,” he says, simply. Then, with a nod toward the door, he says, “Lovely meeting, as always.”
“You don’t want to know what she said?” I ask, lifting a suspicious eyebrow.
“Nope. If I think of any burning questions, I’ll ask later,” he says dryly, pushing up out of his seat and brusquely escorting me to the door.
I can’t help smiling as he kicks me out, even though my back’s to him and he can’t see it. “You have surveillance on her house, don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer, merely opens the door and waits for me to leave.
I shake my head at him. “Enjoy the show.”
---
Once I’ve exhausted every distraction, I have to think about my own problem again. It’s a really big one. I don’t want to deal with it. I don’t want to choose. I may not always love the family I was born to, but that doesn’t mean I can betray them.
Which means betraying Sal instead, and I can’t get behind that either.
I can’t even decide if I want to visit him tonight. I was planning on it before I alerted Mateo to my conversation with Mia, but now I feel like I should stick around here in case he does come looking for me after he’s done processing our conversation. Also I really don’t want to get in another fight with Sal over our families and it feels inevitable.
Turns out I don’t have to come to a decision, though. Sal does. I pop into my bathroom to check my messages. Sal and I haven’t talked at all today, and we never go a full day without talking.
“I need to see you right away.”
I hesitate for a minute before I send back, “I don’t know if I can get away tonight.”
“We have to talk. It can’t wait. If you can’t get away tonight, I need to see you tomorrow morning.”
I can’t agree to that either since I’m not leaving the bakery to sneak out anymore. Instead of agreeing to anything, I send back, “Is everything okay?”
“No,” he replies, simply.
My heart stalls as it occurs to me this might not be about whatever is going on with him and my brother—it might be about what’s going on between us. Spending a little more time together while Meg has kept Mateo out of the way has been nice, but maybe not nice enough.
What if he’s giving up on me? What if this is that kind of “we need to talk”?
I still don’t want to go, but now I have to. I tell him I’ll be over as soon as I can, and then my anxiety doubles because he doesn’t text further. Nothing cute, nothing sweet, nothing sexy. Not so much as a “can’t wait to see you.”
By the time I get to Salvatore’s front door, I’m convinced he’s going to break up with me. I’m not even considering all the ways that could be bad—maybe it’s less about him not liking me anymore and more about whatever is happening with our families. Maybe he’s just picking his side. Maybe they have something planned that’s going to sever any chance of our families ever coexisting again, and now he’s realizing he can’t keep me and also serve his family.
When he pulls open the door, I only need to see his carriage for those doubts to solidify. Instead of warmth and confidence, he’s reserved and stressed out. He doesn’t even lean in to kiss me, just offers a ghost of a smile and takes a step back to let me inside.
A dam of desperation bursts open inside me. I can’t lose Sal. I can’t. He’s the brightest spot in my stressful life, the only person who’s ever loved me back. He cares about people, me maybe most of all. I don’t want to add to his stress, but I’m not doing it on purpose. The problem is literally who I am. I can’t change that.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, an old habit kicks in. When it feels like they’re moving away from you, you redouble your efforts to win them back over. It never worked before, quite the opposite, in fact, but my brain convinces me it’ll be more effective with Sal.
So I attack him with my mouth. He hasn’t even had a chance to speak yet and he doesn’t expect it, so he stumbles back a step, but stabilizes and kisses me back. His strong hand comes to rest supportively on the small of my back and he pulls me close, refilling my stores of hope. I haven’t been taking good enough care of him. Of us. My circumstances and the secrecy of our relationship have put a strain on things like we knew it would, but I’m not giving him as much back as he’s given me. I have to do better.
Right now I want to give in the least subtle way possible. I drag my hands down his chest and let one wander between his legs, rubbing until he’s hard against my palm.
“Francesca…”
I cut him off, kissing him again as my hand undoes his jeans. I’m not going to let him talk. If he can’t talk, he can’t dump me. That’s perfect logic, and no one can tell me otherwise.
I slide my hand down the front of his jeans and work them down past his hips.
He pulls back from the kiss, smiling faintly. “This isn’t why I called you over.”
I ignore him, leaning in to kiss his neck as my fingers close around his cock. “I want you.”
He groans, his fingers biting into my back as pulls me against him. “We need to talk,” he states.
“We can talk later,” I tell him, dragging my teeth across his skin, then gently kissing to make up for it. “Don’t you want me?”
“Of course I do,” he murmurs, even if he sounds a little reluctant. His hands move to my shoulders, gently pushing me back.
I frown at him, crossing my arms, more than a little dejected.
He pulls his jeans back up and zips them, adjusting and murmuring, “Well, that’s not comfortable.”
“I wanted to help with that, but you stopped me,” I pointed out.
“Wouldn’t be right,” he mutters.
My stomach sinks. There it is. Verification. He’s going to dump me.
Goddamn it.
Before he can, I swallow and summon words. “Why?”
“Because we need to talk, and I’m not entirely sure you’re going to want to have sex with me by the end of it.”
“You’re finally dumping me.”
Now he frowns, rearing back a little like it never even occurred to him I might think that. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?” Realizing my stance is still closed off and defensive, he forces himself out of business mode and takes my hand, tugging me over to the couch. I follow him, but every guard I possess seems to be up around me right now and I can’t call them off.
Still, I sit down on the couch next to him. I’m still scowlin
g at him, but I let him pull me into his arms and place a little kiss on top of my head. “Sorry, I should’ve thought… No, actually, I can’t believe you even thought that.”
“Well, you seemed withdrawn, you said we needed to talk, and you didn’t want to have sex with me.”
He nods, now seeing what I saw. “You’re right. That’s fair. My bad. No, I am most certainly not dumping you. You can stop looking at me like I am,” he suggests, directing a playful smile my way, trying to thaw me.
I try. I really do. But it takes a couple minutes. Mateo isn’t the only defensive asshole with abandonment issues in this goddamn family, he’s just the most aggressively successful at letting them fuck up his life.
But Sal is patient and perfect and wonderful, so he waits me out. Clearly he has something pressing to talk to me about, but he puts it on the shelf so he can reassure me and relax my defenses.
“You good now?” Sal finally asks, watching me.
I nod. I’m still a little touchy, but I just want to know what it is he wants to talk about that’s so urgent. Mostly I want to know if there’s any crossover between that and what I’ve been stressing over.
“All right.” He eases back, his face making me think he’s not looking forward to this. “I shouldn’t tell you any of this, and I hope it goes without saying you cannot tell your brother or anyone in your family, but just in case it doesn’t, you cannot tell anyone.”
Nerves tumble around my stomach like tennis shoes in a dryer. I can hear my own heart thumping in my chest, and suddenly I’m afraid for him to tell me. I don’t want to have knowledge that I have to keep secret from my family. I don’t want to double cross anybody. I don’t want to be involved.
But I already am involved.
Because I had to have the stupid fucking luck to fall for the last person in the world I was supposed to fall for.
“You promise you won’t say anything?” he asks.
I grimace, but I nod anyway. I know I have to promise. I know he can’t tell me if I don’t.
He still doesn’t look confident, and I hate that he has so little faith in me when it comes to this stuff. I don’t blame him, not in the least; if anything, I’m at fault. Sal has worked his ass off for me right from the start, and I’ve been skeptical, doubtful, occasionally secretive, sexually repressed, and I’ve refused him my absolute loyalty—the only thing he ever actually asked me for.
Wow, maybe I’m not better than Mateo at handling my shit. Maybe I was just incredibly lucky to have found the one person who could put up with me and love doing it.
All the resistance flows right out of me, and gratitude sweeps in. I gaze across the couch at this wonderful, generous, loving, absolutely amazing man, and he’s mine. Even though it’s impossible, even though I’m difficult, even though he has no reason in the world to put up with all of it, he is mine. Because he loves me.
I sigh, going soft, and suddenly I can’t stop from curling my arms around his neck and snuggling up to him. He seems understandably surprised, given the conversation we’re in the middle of, but he reciprocates like always.
I understand what I have to do now.
I understand that I can’t hold back from Sal, I can’t withhold my loyalty from him and give it to someone else and expect things to stay good between us. That will never work. If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to give myself to him, I have to give him all of me.
I’m bound by my family to obey and protect my brother, but protecting Salvatore is my responsibility to myself. I could never forgive myself if I kept quiet and Mateo killed him.
I love my fucked up family. I do. But I love Sal more. In order for him to stand even a chance of being a real part of my future, I have to let my unbending loyalty to my family be a part of the past.
My chest aches as I determine my next move, but I make it anyway. “My brother knows something’s up with your family. I don’t know exactly what he knows, but he said you guys have given him no choice and he’ll have to move against you. I asked Vince for more information, but he wouldn’t give me much of anything. All I know is he said if you align yourself with your dad in whatever is going on, you’re in danger.”
Sal’s gray eyes widen slightly, his jaw lowering an inch or so. I can tell by the look on his face he didn’t expect me to be the one to cave. I didn’t expect it, either, and I feel a little sick now that I’ve done it, but there’s no turning back now, so I just keep going.
“I’m sorry I’ve been holding back because of this stuff between our families. It was hard, and I knew it would be hard going in, but I guess I wasn’t prepared.” I glance down at my hands in my lap, then back up at him. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Sal’s hand shoots out, tenderly cupping my neck, and he pulls me in close, leaning his forehead against mine and closing his eyes. I can feel his relief. I’m not sure if it’s because I just turned on my family for him, or because I told him I don’t want to lose him. I don’t know if there’s even a difference. One would not have happened without the other.
“You’re not gonna lose me, Francesca,” he murmurs. “I’m never gonna let that happen.”
Even after he pulls back, I feel a little better. Now that I’ve finally made a choice, finally placed my loyalty in his corner, my mind is working hard to get behind it. I trust Sal completely, and I can’t say the same of my brother. That alone should indicate I made the right choice, but I still feel icky if I let myself dwell on it.
So I don’t. Not now. There will be plenty of time to think over the ramifications of my actions later on when I’m at home in my own bed.
Sal sighs, looking at me. He’s a little less tense now. Whatever he needs to tell me, he feels better about it now.
“You know the maid you don’t like?”
I nod my head. “Meg? Of course.”
“My dad sent her to kill Mateo.”
Chapter Twenty Eight
“What?”
“I don’t think she’s still planning to,” he adds quickly, though he shrugs, not caring nearly as much as he should. “She didn’t exactly volunteer, to put it that way. But that’s how she met your brother. My dad sent her with instructions on how to poison him. She couldn’t, because your brother is so goddamn paranoid, but… he hoped she would.”
I knew there was something off about her!
Before I can fully process or respond to what he just said, he goes on.
“You can’t tell your brother. He’s going to find out, I’m going to leak some information for Adrian to connect her to my dad, but you have to keep quiet about it until that happens.”
Fear creeps up my spine, anxiety twisting my stomach. “What if she still has it? What if she’s just been trying to get close to him so she could poison him?” I need to warn him. I need to tell her she’s a stupid fucking double agent and he needs to get her the hell out of his bedroom.
Salvatore raises his eyebrows sternly. “She’s not. Like I said, she never wanted to, my dad just threatened her. She has Mateo’s protection now. Unless she actually does hate him, there’s no reason for her to want him dead, and it doesn’t sound like she does. It’s also highly doubtful she still has the poison.”
“But what if she does? What if she hurts Mateo?”
“It’s unlikely,” he says, though he’s not as horrified by the prospect of someone killing my brother as I am. “It won’t be much longer. Everything is coming to a head. That’s not even the part that’s going to piss you off.”
The look on his face backs up his statement, and now my stomach sinks for a whole different reason. I just finally got up the nerve to take his side, and now he might make it worse. What if he’s decided to get behind his father’s plan to kill Mateo? I can’t get behind that. I can’t support that. I can’t keep that secret, and I can’t tell on him, either, or Mateo will kill him. I really hope he isn’t about to break my heart in a whole new way.
He watches me for another tense minute, then he says, “I need y
our brother distracted for a couple of days before that bomb drops. My expectation is, once he finds out, he reacts quickly and violently. I need to make sure you’re out of the crosshairs before that happens.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and me are gonna lay low. He won’t expect me to hide, and it’s good to surprise people—that’s the official story, at least. Truth is, I just don’t trust any of my father’s men to keep you safe. But I need Mateo distracted for a few days so I can get you out of the house and get us safely tucked away before the rest of the shit goes down.”
“What shit? Are you guys going after Mateo?”
Sal shakes his head, and I watch for signs of deceit, but to be honest, I don’t know what he looks like lying so I don’t know what to look for. “Not as far as I know.”
“Does your dad know about me now?” My head is spinning with all he hasn’t told me. I can’t even catch up with all this.
He looks more guarded than I’m comfortable with, but he slowly nods his head. “I had to tell him.”
“And he’s okay with us?”
“He’s…” He rocks his head left, then right, faintly grimacing. “That’s not the word I would use. But I’m working something out. I have plans A through D to cover every possible eventuality. Wherever the cards fall between our families, you and I are going to be together.”
My heart soars, but plummets a second later because that doesn’t make sense. I may not know what Sal’s deception looks like, but I know when two plus two doesn’t equal four. He’s been adamant about his father not knowing about me, and now he’s outed us himself?
“Now, let me get to the part that’s gonna piss you off.”