by Blaire Drake
Family is everything. And he was right. Family was everything—especially in the mafia. It was loyalty or death. Blood didn't lie. Once you were in, there was no way out.
No, that was a lie. There was one way out, and it was death. It really was that simple.
Could I judge him for doing what he was told to? For what was needed to protect the family? My family?
Because that's what it was. My family. The Romano blood was mine. My father didn't have a drop of it in his body. He was a fucking fraud.
“Are you going to kill me?”
Hunter looked away from me, so I dropped to the sand. I hugged my knees to my chest and looked out past him. The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon now, and darkness was falling quicker and quicker. I didn't care. I welcomed the dark.
You could hide many things in the dark, but emotion was my favorite thing to hide.
“I don't want to kill you,” Hunter finally answered a few minutes later.
“That doesn't really answer my question.” I reached down and grabbed a handful of sand, then watched as it trailed between my fingers. “I want to know if you're going to kill me. Not if you want to.”
He sighed heavily and came and sat next to me. His steel-gray eyes cut through me, and he opened his mouth before closing it again and looking away.
That didn't answer my question, either.
I got the feeling that it wasn't a good idea to push him for an answer. I could have. I could have stood and demanded he tell me. I could have ordered him and really... he had to do it. He knew the mafia blood flowed through my body, not my father's.
But I wouldn't. I would never use that against him, even if he was currently the biggest danger to my life.
I was weak where Carlo 'Hunter' Rosso was concerned.
I wished I could be strong. I wished I could blank him out and be as cold as he sometimes seemed to be, but I just couldn't. Not with him.
“No.” The word fell from his lips so quietly I almost didn't hear it. “No, Adriana. I don't think I can kill you.”
“Then what?” I asked just as quietly, turning to face him. I finally let my knees go and stretched my legs in front of me. “What will you do when he finds out I'm alive?”
“I guess I'd take my fate.” He looked at me now, and his eyes were stripped bare. It was so dark now that I couldn't see his face, but his eyes? I saw those just fine.
“Seems futile. He'll just send another for me.”
He lifted his hand toward me, and I held my breath, but he dropped it. No. I grabbed his hand and raised it to where it was before he dropped it, and his lips twitched. I let his fingers go.
Hunter reached forward and cupped my cheek. His thumb brushed across my skin. “You won't die my hand, Principessa. Lo prometto.”
I promise.
I covered his hand with my own and glanced away briefly, then took a deep breath. “Then will you protect me?”
“Con la mia vita,” he replied, unblinking. With my life.
I moved onto my knees, facing him. “My father can't stay where he is.”
“What do you mean?” Hunter's hand fell from my face, taking mine with him, but he grasped my fingers tightly.
“The family is mine, Hunter. You know it as well as I do.” I tucked my hair behind my ear as I held his gaze. “And I want it.”
“You want to overthrow your father?”
I nodded. Yes. That was what I wanted to do. I'd been dreaming of it for too long. This was the best chance I'd probably get. “I promised myself when we left that one day he'd pay for his sins. He'd pay for selling me and making me leave my home.” For making me leave you. “I don't know if I'll ever get another chance.” And I refuse to let you die for me.
“Do you realize that's nearly impossible?” His thumb brushed back and forth across my hand. “You'll probably die before you get anywhere near him. Since you left... He owns most of the Hamptons, Adriana. He's expanded the businesses beyond anything you could imagine, and he has a hand in just about every single crime you've heard of. Probably some you haven't. With Alexandria not there, he's taken the family to a whole other level.”
“Not a good one, by the sounds of it,” I muttered.
“Depends on your definition of good.” Hunter smirked. “But no... Not really. He's made the family the most ruthless. That's why what happened to Enrico Giordano happened. Enzio demanded that we sent a message to the others, both inside and outside the family. He wanted everyone to know that we weren't to be crossed. You speak, and you're tortured.”
“Sounds like he's enjoying being king.”
“God, you mean. He basically runs New York. He has the NYPD in his top pocket.”
That sounded about right. Mamma had always charmed them, but I suspected my father took a much different stance on that. I couldn't see him charming the cops. Holding a gun to their heads? To their wives heads? Their kids? Sure. Charming them? Not so much.
“For now,” I said quietly, sitting back on my ass. I slipped my hand out of Hunter's and looked down the beach. He was God for now.
Unfortunately for him, not everyone believed in God.
I guessed I was one of those people.
***
“Adriana Romano, you've lost your mind.”
“Come on, Darien! It makes sense!”
“You're supposed to be dead, bambina.” He slammed the carton of orange juice down onto the island and looked over it at me with his dark eyes. “Not raiding your father's business.”
“My business!” I protested. “Mine, Darien. You know it, too.”
“It isn't that simple.” He unscrewed the cap and poured two glasses. “You cannot walk in there, shoot your father, and take over the family.”
“Of course I can't. I can't take over something that already belongs to me.”
“Addy, you're working on your emotions. You can't make decisions when you're emotional.” He tightened the cap on the carton and put it back in the fridge. “You've had a rough two days. Why don't you calm down before making plans for your crazy ideas?”
“Because time is something I don't have, Dar.” I took the glass he offered me and sipped. “If I had time, Hunter wouldn't be here.”
“Hmm.” He took a long drink of juice, then wiped his upper lip. “And how much does Hunter have to do with this?”
I just about resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He knew every detail about our conversation the night before, except the part where I kissed Hunter, so he knew exactly how much he had to do with it. Even if he had blown me off when I got in and told him.
I felt stronger with Hunter behind me, and that was the end of it. I needed him to do this.
“He said he'd protect me. I believe him.”
“His loyalty isn't to you, bambina. His loyalty is to Enzio. You're surely not naive enough to believe he'd switch sides that simply.” Darien looked at me with pity in his eyes. “I know what he is to you. What he was. But he isn't that boy anymore. He isn't the boy you'd take home to your mamma.”
“If Mamma were alive I'd bring him home to her.”
“Only because she'd make you.”
“So what's the difference? She'd take him as he is, even if he isn't the same boy I knew. She wouldn't even question his loyalty to me. Why are you?”
“Because the day she died, I promised her no one would hurt you.” He swallowed, emotion thickening his voice. “I promised her no one would lay a finger on her bambina. I've already pushed it more than I'd like by allowing you that conversation with him last night. I don't trust him, Adriana.”
“What if I do?”
“Then you are a fool!” he snapped.
I stilled. Darien had never spoken to me like that. Ever. I swallowed back the small lump that'd formed in my throat.
“Just because he said he can't kill you don't mean he won't. Do not allow your heart to lead you where your mind knows best.”
I grabbed my glass and turned away from him. Call me stubborn, childish, n
aive... I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to listen to him tear Hunter apart in front of me when his only conversation with him lasted five minutes and began with him pinning him to the wall by his neck.
“Addy.” Darien sighed, following me. “I'm sorry. I wish you'd listen to me, that's all.”
“You're the one who said I should be allowed to talk with him. You obviously don't think he's that much of a danger if you let me meet him last night.” I sat on the sofa, hugging my glass.
“You weren't alone,” he said quietly. “You were followed.”
I inhaled sharply.
“And yes. I know you kissed him. That's why I believe you're working off your heart and not your mind.”
“I can't believe you did that.” I put the glass on the table and stood to meet his eyes. “But since you did, you'll know he didn't lay a single finger on me when he had the prime opportunity to kill me. You haven't even spoken to him. I'm not stupid.”
“I can't break my promise to your mother.”
“And neither can I,” I said softly. My heart clenched. “I promised her I'd pay him back. That he wouldn't get away with what he did. Promised her, Darien. And she gave me her blessing. If I die trying, then I died for a reason, and by my own choice, not by his. The way she did. She wouldn't be sitting around here weighing up the pros and cons of it. She'd be strapping a gun to herself and filling the gas tank in the car.”
He softened the way he always did when we talked about her. He loved her, even now. It'd been two years but the hole she'd left in our lives hadn't shrunk or even eased. When she'd died, she'd taken a piece of Darien's heart with her. The rest belonged to me, and if it didn't, I knew he'd have joined her that day.
He was her soulmate in the way my father never was.
“Come on, Dar. Please.” I walked to him and grabbed his hands. “She'd want this. Her heart would break knowing that we weren't doing anything when we could.”
He looked down at me, his lips pursing to the side. His internal battle was written all over his face, and I bit my lower lip. I could see him slowly giving into me as I gave him my biggest puppy-dog eyes I'd ever given.
“I want to talk to Carlo,” he demanded. “And then I will consider your fucking ridiculous plan. Do you understand? I will consider it.”
Yes. I understood the word consider, and I also knew what it meant.
He'd get every last drop of information out of Hunter, and then he'd agree, because he had no other option.
“Thank you.” I reached up onto tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I'll call him.”
“Mmm.”
Chapter Eight – Hunter
I pulled into the driveway of Adriana and Darien's house on my bike. Thankfully, this time, I hadn't had to break into the gated community because I'd been added to the access list. Not me, exactly. A fake name, but that was something.
I hoped it meant Darien trusted me even the smallest amount.
Well, he trusted me enough to let me into the house.
I stood the bike up and took off my helmet. Tucking it under my arm, I approached the front door and prepared to knock.
Darien beat me to it. He swung the door open as my bottom foot touched the first step and glared down at me. His dark hair was slicked back from his face, showing the graying hairs at the sides of his face. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple days, and even that was peppered with gray flecks.
I got the feeling that his conversation earlier today with Adriana had aged him considerably.
I understood that entirely. She had that effect on people. Always had.
“Come in,” he said, reluctance in his voice. She'd definitely worn him down on her plan—and to be honest, she'd warned me. I knew what I was getting into here.
“Thanks.” I followed him into the house and through the hall to what looked like an office. Although I'd looked in most rooms when I was here last, this one had been locked. Now I knew why—it was Darien's.
“Make yourself comfortable. Coffee?” he asked, pausing in front of a machine.
“I'm good, thanks.” Coffee machine in his office. How much time did he spend in here?
He nodded, but didn't speak as he sat on the other side of his desk. He leaned forward and dug his fingers into his hair. Minutes passed in silence, and I didn't dare speak first.
I didn't have much, but I had respect for Darien. A part of me hated him for sneaking Adriana away that night. A part of me fucking hated him for keeping her hidden, although I understood why it was done. Ironically, I respected him for the very same reasons I hated him.
Because he'd taken her away. Because he'd kept her safe.
What better person to keep you safe from death than a man who'd delivered it to so many?
“She trusts you,” he said hoarsely. He slowly looked up and dropped his hands, and his dark eyes pierced mine. “And I think she's a fool, blinded by the past.”
“Maybe she is,” I agreed. “But that doesn't mean she's the only one.”
“I understand your role in the family. I was you, once.” He scratched his jaw. “I think you'd kill her tomorrow if a gun was put to your head. You're playing a dangerous game, Carlo. Russian Roulette isn't for the faint of heart.”
“Then it's a good thing my heart is made of stone.”
“Is it? She's alive. How can you say it's stone when you've had two chances to kill her and haven't?”
“Then why don't you trust me, Darien? You just said it yourself. Two chances, and I didn't.” I stood without breaking our gaze.
“Third. Time. Lucky.” He almost spat each word, slowly coming to stand himself. He leaned forward and grasped the edge of his desk with one hand. With the other, he opened a desk drawer and pulled out a 9mm pistol. He cocked the safety and pointed it at my head.
Reflexively, I pulled my own from my hip, took off the safety and aimed it at his forehead.
His lips twitched on one side. “What if I said to you right now that you had to kill her? That this gun would be pointed at you until you put a bullet between her eyes? And if you didn't, I'd put one between yours?”
“I'd shoot you first.” My grip on the gun, like my gaze, was steady. “Because I'd rather kill you and have her hate me, than die and offer her up to her father on a silver platter.”
Darien's eyes flitted across my face, intense in their scrutiny of me. I didn't move a muscle as he studied my expression. I refused to. He didn't trust me as far as he could throw me, I could see it, and I'd bet he couldn't throw me very fucking far.
He raised his thumb and replaced the safety. He slowly lowered the gun and replaced it in the drawer, slamming it shut. “Put it down, Carlo. No one is shooting anyone today. Unless that motherfucker sends his lackeys over here.”
“He already did,” I remarked smartly, putting the safety on my gun before settling it back in my holster. “Why'd you put it back?”
“Because you're a killer, but you're no liar.” He dipped his head slightly. “I believe you. The Pontarellis are a different matter, but much to Armo's annoyance, he does what Addy says.”
“When she decides she's a princess, right?”
His lips tugged up on one side. “You got it. Sometimes she's princess, sometimes she's queen, sometimes she's nothing more than a twenty-three year old girl, but she's always in control. She assumed that role the day her mamma walked into the hospital for chemotherapy.” His smile dropped. “She used her against me, you know that? Spun me the guilt trip, and I'm not even mad, because everything she said was fucking true.”
“Sounds about right.” I perched on the edge of the sofa. “She guilt-tripped me into baking brownies once, not long before you left. I was told to look after her, and in her mind, that meant chocolate brownies because she was on her period.” I sighed, but my lips fought to smile. “Two trays later and she finally gave up the trip.”
“Like I said, always in control.” Darien's smile returned briefly and he sat back down. “Now I'm worried about her. H
er plan is crazy, Carlo. She can't take Enzio down.”
“Unfortunately, if she doesn't, he's going to send someone else here to get her. I bought a couple more days, but I wouldn't be shocked if he already had someone in the air to come keep an eye on me.”
“Who would he send?”
“Isaiah, probably. He's the only one he trusts.”
“This could work in our favor.” Darien touched his fingertips together in front of him.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Because I can't see any situation in which Enzio's consigliere coming to Los Angeles, where Adriana is, working in our favor. Unless we're trying to get her killed, which defies the whole point of this conversation.”
He laughed. Loudly. Even threw his head back for a moment before he sobered. His amusement still shone in his eyes, though. “Isaiah is my cousin.”
“Does he know his cousin didn't crash a car because he was lovesick over Alexandria? Because that's Enzio's story.”
“Of course it is. Enzio Romano has a God-like complex with a terrifying need to be the innocent party. I expected nothing less. But yes, to answer your question.” Darien stands and opens his office window. “He knows I'm alive. You don't honestly think that the Pontarellis alone protected Adriana for this long, do you?” He turned, his eyebrows raised. “Come on, Carlo. You're smarter than that. Enzio may trust Isaiah, but trust is easily misplaced.”
“Wait. Are you telling me Isaiah's been hiding Adriana?” I couldn't wrap my head around that. “Then why did he allow Enzio to send me here? Did you know I was coming?”
“I don't know, and no. I had no idea you were coming. Neither did she.” He sighed. “I guess Isaia trusted you not to kill her.”
I'm glad someone did. Fuck knows I didn't trust myself not to.
Sometimes I wonder if I even do now.
“Darien, where's the—oh.” Adriana stops dead in the doorway. “Crap. Sorry.”
“Don't worry.” Darien laughs quietly. “Where's the what, bambina?”
My eyes slid toward her and I smiled at the nickname. Baby girl. Of course.