by Bethany-Kris
“Okay, you’re keeping me from finishing up here,” she said.
Mario sighed harshly. “Fine, but you’re using drivers after this, Vanna. I can’t have the future wife of the next Camorra boss going around unattended. That will never be acceptable to the clan, and you know it.”
Of course.
“Sure, whatever. Revisit it later, okay?”
“You know we will.”
If it let him sleep at night …
Vanna waited just long enough for Mario to say goodbye before she hung up the phone on him without saying the same in kind. She didn’t have the time, or give a damn for pleasantries with him, and she was just about done pretending like she did.
Tossing the phone in her clutch, Vanna swung away from her reflection in the mirror to head out of the bedroom. Despite what she told Mario, she was finished getting ready for her evening, it simply wouldn’t be to go out with him. Her smile grew wider as she headed through the penthouse, the ding of the doorbell echoing throughout the space when she came closer to the door. Maybe she should have prepared to see the man who would be standing behind the door when she swung it open, but she was too excited to see him to worry about anything else.
Bene grinned in the hallway, his hands pressing to either side of the doorjamb when she opened up the penthouse for him. And goddamn. He looked like sin melted into a tailored three-piece suit with a silver vest and tie with a matching silk square tucked into his breast pocket. One of his leather loafers tapped against the floor, while his fingers drummed to the wood. A watch encrusted with diamonds on the face glinted under the hallway lights.
He screamed wealth.
Good looks.
Total fucking heartache.
Vanna knew it now.
And how did she know that?
Because instead of considering the phone in her clutch, and the fact that tonight was supposed to be yet another opportunity for her to use in order to get information on the Guzzi family to deliver to the detective she worked with … she was more concerned with seeing him. Spending time with him. Everything about him.
And nothing about the vendetta.
Bene whistled low, drawing Vanna from her thoughts as his dark gaze looked her up and down. He didn’t move an inch, but the slow perusal of his gaze lingering on her form, the way the fabric clung to the shape of her breasts, giving a peek at her cleavage, and the slit in her thigh, almost showing off the lace thong she wore underneath … well, it had her shivering on the spot in those sky-high heels.
It never failed to amaze her how this man could make her feel like the only woman in the world with nothing more than a glance thrown her way. Never mind the things he dared to let slip past his lips that were more than enough to have her wet between her thighs, and ready for yet another round in bed with him.
She was sure he knew it, too.
“Got something to say?” she asked.
Bene’s tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. “Well …”
“Hmm?”
His stare darted up to meet hers. “I am a lucky fuck to have you on my arm tonight, huh?”
See.
How hard was that?
For a man to say he was the one honored to have her at his side? To put her first before himself? To make an effort?
Bene did all of those things.
And more.
Her guilt kicked up a notch, reminding her all over again that she had no business being anywhere near this man anymore. Not after the things she did, and planned for him and the rest of his family. Except she was selfish, so she wouldn’t be turning him away.
Not tonight.
And not on another.
“Can’t wait to show you off,” Bene said, finally dropping his hands and stepping forward. “And they’re going to love you.”
“Who?”
“My family.”
“Oh.”
Vanna hadn’t even considered that was who he meant, even if tonight would mean she was going to be front row and center for his family at their party. Before she could even take a breath, he was on her. She didn’t worry about her makeup, or the stark red lipstick she’d put on earlier because all of that could be fixed.
Instead, she was just happy to have his lips find hers. The familiarity in their kiss was something she craved, now. Like him, because God knew she needed him more than she ever wanted to … but she couldn’t find it in her to be sad about that, either.
With his hands curving along her jaw, the warmth of his palms seeping into her skin as he kissed her with a hunger that promised good things were coming later, Vanna forgot about everything else. Her life. The world. Everything she was supposed to do, and the things she thought she wanted.
Bene came into play.
Everything changed.
Vanna hadn’t planned for this.
Never mind … fixing it.
“God, yeah,” he said, pulling away as his thumb roved over what she was sure were her smudged lips, now, “they’re gonna adore you.”
“You think?” she asked softly.
Bene smirked, lax and lazy. “I know.”
She had a strange feeling, then.
One she hadn’t expected.
Vanna wanted to meet them, too.
Not Gian, the man who apparently ruined her family’s life and legacy. But Gian, the father who raised the man in front of her. She wasn’t interested in meeting Cara, the woman who took her dead aunt’s place, and was handed the keys to a kingdom that should have been theirs, but rather … Cara, the mother who Bene talked about with love, and total adoration.
His brothers.
Their people.
She wanted to know them.
And not the people she thought she knew—not the stories she had been told, but theirs. The things she didn’t know. All of that, she wanted to know them.
That was a problem.
Did it need to be fixed, though?
That was the better question.
If he noticed her strange change in mood, Bene didn’t say. “And hey, we’ve got a little bit of time before we need to head out … and you need to fix your lipstick now, so.”
Vanna grinned, hearing the suggestive tone in his voice clearly. She started taking steps backward, and he was quick to follow, slamming the door behind him as he moved after her. “Oh, really?”
“Mmhmm.”
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress, pulling up the skirt just enough for the slit to give him a peek of that thong she wore underneath. His gaze flicked downward, his lips curling up at the edges in a satisfied grin before his attention was on her face once more when she asked, “And what do you think we should do with that time, Bene?”
“Find a place to let me bend you over, say my name like that again, and you’re going to find out.”
Yes.
Absolutely, yes.
They were late to the dinner party because the one round where Bene had Vanna bent over the couch just wasn’t enough, and somehow, they found themselves naked in her walk-in closet when she attempted to fix her makeup in front of her vanity.
Shocker.
No one said a thing about the fact they were late, though, and by the time they arrived at the Guzzi mansion, dinner had started to be served. She felt all eyes on them as Bene pulled her closer to his side when they came into view of the dining room entry. His fingers drifted through her loose waves, pushing the hair out of her eyes before he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. His lips were just drifting away from her skin, their gazes meeting, as they walked into the room still tightly together, and seemingly forgetting about the room around them.
Still, she felt those eyes.
The stares.
And how it all went quiet.
Bene grinned her way, and Vanna felt an unfamiliar sensation kicking up in her stomach. Butterflies. How long had it been since something like her nerves took over, and reminded her that she was just as human as everyone else?
Too long,
apparently.
She wasn’t used to this.
She did her best to focus on him as they rounded the large table filled with numerous faces, she didn’t recognize for the life of her. Not that any of the people staring back at them as she smiled and nodded at the ones they passed looked as though they recognized her, either, or as if they didn’t think she was meant to be there.
They all smiled.
They all greeted them with kindness.
It settled her nerves.
And kicked up her guilt.
Fantastic.
“A bit late, Bene?”
He had just found them a spot to sit at the table that literally filled the whole room and looked as though it was easily sitting thirty people. Was it a custom piece, or had they bought it that way? He pulled out the chair for Vanna to sit as they turned to the man at the far-left end of the table, sitting in a large captain’s chair.
A recognizable face to her.
Gian.
Bene’s father.
Vanna hadn’t known what to expect the first time she came face to face with the man—or for now, just a few seats down at a table from him—but the welcoming smile he wore was not it. Maybe she thought he would be the same as every other man within the life … cold, almost, detached in his stare, but kind because appearances were everything.
Instead, he watched her with a hint of curiosity, but also a warmth that said he was glad to see her there, but especially with his son.
God.
Would he feel the same if he knew the truth?
Or would she finally see the coldness she’d expected?
“We can do proper introductions after the dinner,” Gian said to Bene, and giving a nod to Vanna before adding, “but you can apologize to your mother for being late, hmm?”
“Oui, Papa,” Bene quickly replied.
The first time she ever heard him use French. Even if it was only one word. It was shocking.
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head before helping her push in her chair, and then he left her to sit alone. He headed down to the other end of the very long table to greet the woman sitting in a chair that matched Gian’s opposite to hers. She looked every inch a queen sitting in her throne with her red hair let down in soft waves, and the buttery, cream-colored dress hugging her feminine curves as she smiled up at her son.
Cara.
Even as Bene’s mother reached for him to take his kiss to her cheek, and whatever apology he gave for being late, her gaze still drifted down the table to Vanna. There was a warmth in her gaze, too, but her stare didn’t linger as long when she went back to her son, hooking her finger as if to silently ask him to bend down again.
Bene did.
Cara murmured something that had him grinning. Then, he nodded, and that had his mother mouthing the words. “Ah, I see.”
It was clear the woman adored her son. It showed in every action—from the gentle pat of her hand against his cheek, to the smile on her face filled with pride. Even the glimmer in her eye, as if Bene was the only person in the room while his attention was on her, couldn’t be hidden. Not that it seemed like his mother wanted to hide it.
The love.
It was so painfully clear.
She looked Vanna’s way with a sly smile.
What was that all about?
Vanna didn’t have time to find out.
Bene made his way back down to her, and Gian addressed the table with a clap of his hands that had servers coming in through three different entrances. While the table was already full of food, and some even had plates filled in front of them … the servers held pitchers of water, juice, and one held a tray of wine glasses.
“Time to eat,” Gian said.
Across the table, one of the men that Vanna recognized from the newspaper picture at the wedding smiled at her. Christopher, was it?
Another Guzzi twin.
“Dad might be good with waiting for introductions,” he said to Bene beside Vanna, “but I don’t care about politeness, so …”
Bene laughed, waving a hand between his brother, and Vanna as a server came up to them with plates ready to sit in front of them. “Vanna, this is Chris, and his wife, Valeria.”
“Val is cool, though,” the pretty woman to Chris’s left replied, although her attention was more focused on the young girl sitting next to her that was trying not to spill sauce down her sweet dress. “Here, let me put a napkin on you, Maria.”
“Nice to meet you,” Vanna said.
Chris nodded. “Fair warning, it’s going to get loud … it always does. And no worries, nobody is going to get offended if you forget our names tonight. There’s a lot of us.”
“Too many, sometimes,” a man—another she did recognize from the newspaper—to Chris’s right muttered.
“Marcus, my oldest brother,” Bene filled in, confirming what she already knew.
She laughed.
“I’ll remember that.”
“Eat, eat!”
The shout echoed down the table.
Bene gave her a wink.
Food it was.
“Vanna, is it?”
Vanna turned away from Marcus who had been showing her the long corridor in the mansion that was dedicated solely to portraits of the Guzzi family. Currently, she was admiring one of Cara surrounded by her boys when they were younger in a forest setting where she sat on a chair that seemed more like a throne, staring head on at the artist painting, proud as could be over the empire around her.
An army of principes.
And a queen leading them.
The woman in the picture was the same one walking toward her now. Marcus dropped Vanna’s hand that had been tucked into his elbow with a smile, but only long enough to greet his mother with a one-armed hug, and kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” he murmured.
“Grazie, mio raggazo.”
“Be nice, Ma.”
Cara laughed, winking Vanna’s way as she asked, “When am I not?”
“Never, of course.”
Marcus gave Vanna a smile and nod before he headed down the hall. Cara waited just long enough for him to disappear from the corridor before she turned to face Vanna, and the portrait behind her. Well, she stared more at the portrait than she did at Vanna, but that was okay, too. It allowed her to admire the beauty of Bene’s mother, but also the almost regal aura around her. She’d always been able to sense those things about people, but it was so much stronger in this home with these people.
“It is, right?” Cara asked.
“Pardon?”
Cara’s gaze flicked to hers. “Vanna, sweetheart.”
“Yes. Vanna Falco.”
If the last name rang a bell to the woman, she didn’t say. Then again, her attention was back on the painting on the wall. Vanna turned to stare at it, too. It really was a perfect representation of the woman, and her sons. Realistic in more ways than she could explain with careful brushstrokes that brought the people in the portrait alive.
“I’m always worried people might think this corridor is a bit pretentious, considering …”
Vanna shook her head. “I thought it was … well, a beautiful tribute to a legacy.”
“The legacy of a name, or a bloodline?”
“A family, actually,” Vanna murmured, “I only saw a family.”
And she did.
Standing in this corridor as Marcus explained portrait after portrait, and each Guzzi in every single frame, she heard the pride in his voice, and the love he held for his family. Ones no longer with them, and those still on earth.
It made this night, and the choices she would have to make after it, harder. Not that she would tell Cara Guzzi that, however.
“I’m glad to see you came,” Cara said.
“Why is that?”
Cara shrugged, smiling softly again. “Bene gives me a lot of things to worry about … I would like it if one thing in his life didn’t, that’s all.”
Some
thing like her.
Vanna met the woman’s stare—they had a conversation earlier, during the dinner. And a short one after before Bene got called away by Christopher to help with something upstairs while they had time, and an extra pair of hands on deck. However, their chats had been short, and not very deep. Not that this one was anything amazing, either, but it felt different.
Things unsaid clung to the air.
Vanna was fine with that.
“You seem familiar to me,” Cara said.
She stilled next to the woman. “Do I?”
“Somehow. It’s your face, I think. As if I’ve seen it before.”
Vanna cleared her throat. “I can’t say we’ve ever—”
“Cara, one of the shelter’s managers is getting ready to leave, and I know you like to see them out, mia bella.”
At the end of the corridor, Gian Guzzi darkened the entrance and stared down the way at his wife with fondness. Clear love. Like Cara with her son earlier. And with her other sons throughout the rest of the evening.
The Guzzis loved.
All of them.
“Sorry about that,” Cara said.
Vanna shrugged. “It’s okay. I can find Bene.”
“He’s still busy.” Gian took a couple of steps into the hallway, turning his head a bit to stare at some of the portraits as he passed. “But I can keep her company until he finds his way back to her.”
“Perfect.”
Not wanting to intrude on Gian and Cara’s moment as the two met in the middle of the corridor, the man already leaning in for a kiss from his wife, Vanna turned around. Her gaze fell on another portrait, one she had looked over previously, but now seemed to take center stage.
Featuring Gian in a chair fit to be a throne, he dominated the painting. His fingers curved around the intricately carved wooden arms of the chair, and his left ankle rested on his right knee while his head turned slightly to stare off at something that one couldn’t see in the painting. His profile, showing off the strong line of his jaw, and the curve of smirking lips reminded her of the man’s sons … but especially Bene.
“Which one is your favorite in here, hmm?”