by Maggie Marr
“I’m the girl who grew up with you, the woman who left you, and the person who knows you better than anyone else. And I’m telling you that you can’t just think about money when the question is about love.”
With Shelly’s words, a roar filled Anthony’s chest and throat. Horrible thoughts and words he wanted to say filled his brain. He pulled to a sharp stop in front of Mrs. Bello’s home. Christmas lights furiously blinked their good cheer.
“You’re none of those things anymore.” His voice low, a growl. He bit the words out, turning a cold gaze to Shelly. “You’re an ex-girlfriend, and a recovering addict who may or may not stay clean. A girl I knew a long time ago, but someone who doesn’t mean much to my life now.” The muscle in his cheek flinched.
Shelly’s eyes revealed no emotion, but her face was pale as paste in the darkness of his car.
“Let’s make one thing clear. This playing nice with you I’m doing? It’s because I love your Nonna, and she loves you. I loved your brother like he was my brother. Don’t confuse my congeniality with forgiveness, because I’d just have soon left you in San Francisco or Texas or wherever the hell you were.”
To Shelly’s credit, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t cry. Instead a slow wry smile curled the corners of her mouth. “That’s the best you’ve got, Tony?” Shelly opened the door, her gaze still locked with his. “You keep pushing everyone away, pretty soon you’ll know what alone really feels like. And take it from me. Alone? It don’t feel so good.” Shelly climbed out of the car and slammed the door.
Her long legs strode up the sidewalk. Out of habit, he waited, watched her pull open the door and slip inside. He revved the engine, ready to pull away from the curb. Ready to punish the car for the conflicted feelings that raged through him. His foot pressed on the gas just as the front porch light flashed off and then back on.
His heart lurched. His foot came off the pedal. The memories of a million nights with Shelly filled his mind. Nights he’d wished were endless. Nights when he had dropped her off at home, back when they’d been dating, and she’d flashed the front porch light to let him know that everything was fine inside and she was heading to bed.
He gripped the steering wheel. Those days were gone. That life was dead. Shelly thought she knew him? Well, just like she was no longer the Shelly he’d fallen in love with, he was no longer the same guy she’d left behind.
He accelerated toward Manhattan, burning to put distance between himself and his old neighborhood. Because the farther he got from his past, the more likely he’d believe the lies he told himself about his future.
Chapter 7
Sleet sliced down from the sky. Icy darts targeted every inch of Anthony’s exposed flesh. He rounded the corner and took the last three blocks to his building at a sprint. The frigid cold, the sleet, the clouds hanging low in the sky, had matched his mood when he’d awakened that morning. So he’d forgone his normal workout in the pristine gym he belonged to, and instead run outside, punishing himself in the brutal elements. The cold stung his nose and lungs with every breath. The frozen rain pricked his skin. Good. Fine. Let his discomfort pound away the memories.
How dare she? How dare Shelly come back and act like she knew him? Pretend she understood his motivations, his decisions, the whys and hows of what he had done.
She didn’t know him.
He pulled up short in front of his building. He bent forward, gasping for frigid air that burned his lungs.
But Shelly did know him.
He stood and stretched his arms over his head. Fuck. She did. What if she was right? He could barely admit to himself that the anger lodged in his heart was because her words had hit home. He’d be damned if he’d say the words out loud, but maybe Shelly was right about his motivations. He tilted his head toward the sky, sucking in air and searching the flat grey sky for answers. Bits of ice pelted his cheeks.
Damn. Had he been too self-righteous and arrogant about the paternity test? He’d nearly fooled himself into believing that family didn’t matter. He’d convinced himself that what he’d done, how he’d behaved, had been a safety measure, a necessary precaution to take to guard the Travati riches.
Leo and Devon had raised arguments similar to Shelly’s last summer, and he’d ignored them. But Shelly, with her beautiful face and sharp eyes and wry smile, actually broke through his walls, his stubbornness, his anger. She made him take a second look, assess the facts in the way that everyone else had been seeing them for months.
Max was a Travati. Anthony had known Max was Justin’s son the moment he laid eyes on him. Should that have been enough proof for Anthony? Hell, even if Max hadn’t had such obvious Travati traits, should the fact that Justin loved Max, and Aubrey, and was making them his family been enough to quell Anthony’s raging need to know the truth? If the tables had been turned, wouldn’t Anthony’s love for a woman have been enough for all of his brothers? Wouldn’t Justin, and Leo, and Devon have welcomed a woman and her son for Anthony’s sake? Wouldn’t they have accepted whoever he chose to be his wife?
Was he simply jealous of Justin’s new family?
Anthony walked in tight circles, his wrists resting on top of his head. His breathing slowed gradually as he took in the air his lungs so desperately needed.
He was an asshole. He’d been a total asshole to his family. But it wasn’t as though they were being nice to him either. The whole crew was ditching him for Switzerland.
Fuck it. He waved to the doorman and yanked open the front door of his building. He didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity and doubt. What’s done was done. He had his own business to build, as well as finding a way to gracefully exit TF. Or if not gracefully, at least to get the hell out. Regardless of what truths Shelly had forced him to consider, the fact remained that Anthony could no longer work for Justin. He stalked past the lobby Christmas tree and poinsettias. No, he and Justin were like two wolves trapped in a tiny cage. TF was way too small a place to hold them both.
*
Cinnamon. Sugar. The sweet smell of baking cookies mixed with the scent of brewing coffee pulled Shelly from sleep.
“Sweetheart, I brought you some coffee.” Nonna set the coffee on the nightstand and Shelly felt the mattress dip as Nonna sat beside her on the bed.
“I wish you wouldn’t wait on me.”
Nonna brushed her fingers across Shelly’s forehead, sweeping stray hairs away from her eyes. “Oh, doll, it’s what I want to do. I love having you here, especially for Christmas. It’s a dream come true.”
Nonna’s eyes lit with joy. Shelly smiled and pushed herself to a seated position. She picked up the mug and took a long drink of her coffee with milk. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“How was last night?”
Shelly clasped her warm mug with both hands. “I really like Aubrey and Max.”
“He looks just exactly like Justin did when he was that age.”
“Except for the eyes.”
“Yes, except for the eyes. Like you, his eyes are not Italian. They look like his mother’s.”
“Justin seems so happy,” Shelly mused. “Who would have thought? I mean before I left, he never would have wanted that kind of life.”
“The illness changed him,” Nonna said. “Illness changes a lot of people. But he survived and he’s happy. Truly truly happy.”
Questions flitted through Shelly’s mind. Questions she wanted to ask Nonna.
“What happened to Anthony?”
The smile slipped from Nonna’s face, and she clasped her hands in her lap. She considered her response for a long, silent moment. “It’s been such a gradual change that I don’t think I really noticed how different he’d become until this summer. When he acted the way he did about Aubrey and Max.” Nonna sighed. “Justin must really love his little brother, because if anyone else had done such a thing”—Nonna closed her eyes and shook her head—“I don’t know that he would have survived, much less have remained part of the family business.”
“He’s not the man you remember,” Nonna said. She clasped Shelly’s arm. “The only thing constant in life is change. We all change, and yet, he’s still Anthony and you’re still my Shelly. But you aren’t the same person you were even six months ago, are you?”
Heat flooded Shelly’s face. She and Nonna didn’t speak of Shelly’s time in Texas. By tacit agreement, the two of them had cut out those five years, pretended they didn’t exist in Shelly’s life.
“Five years ago we all lost Vinnie,” Nonna said softly. “You loved him, Anthony loved him, I loved him. You and Anthony were on the verge of a life together, and you’d both already lost so many people. And then Anthony lost you.”
“So you’re saying this is my fault.”
“No, honey, because while Anthony lost you, the even sadder part is that you lost yourself.” Nonna reached out and cupped Shelly’s chin. “Oh my darling girl, I’ve loved you a long time.”
Shelly’s eyes burned and her throat tightened.
“I think when you two lost Vinnie, both of you lost yourselves for a while.”
Shelly nodded and swallowed. The desire to run away pumped through her body. To flee from the house filled with memories and the past and her dead brother’s ghost. To run away from the love in Nonna’s eyes. To find something, anything, to stop these feelings, this pain that rushed through her body like a living thing.
“You’ve always felt things so deeply, and that’s not easy in this world.” Nonna stroked her hand over Shelly’s hair. “But you’re strong, too. Stronger than you know.”
Shelly’s gaze turned away from the door, her avenue to escape, the hit she craved and could find just a couple of blocks away. Instead she concentrated on the love that flooded to her from Nonna. She leaned her head forward onto Nonna’s shoulder and simply breathed.
*
“What does the US Attorney’s office say?” Justin sat at the head of the conference room table, Devon to his right and Leo to his left. Three of the best criminal defense attorneys in the world, now on retainer, stared back at him. Anthony turned his back to the table and looked out the window at the New York skyline. This unscheduled meeting was an abrupt interruption to his day, one he had little patience for.
Theresa Bennett, the lead attorney on Devon’s defense team, spoke. “They want to cut a deal.”
“A deal?” Justin leaned forward and placed his hand on the table. “They don’t have a shred of evidence. They’ve spoken to Devon a million times. God knows they’ve managed to look under every stone. Did you know they actually went by to see his high school English teacher? For fuck’s sake, this is a fucking witch hunt. They have nothing and they want to cut a deal?”
Anthony turned away from the window to face the conference table, crossing his arms over his chest. From where he stood behind Justin, he could see all the players in this tragedy. He wished he had the same kind of faith in Devon as Justin did, but he didn’t. Anthony didn’t believe that Devon had actually run girls through the Travati clubs, as the Justice Department suspected. But he also didn’t believe Devon had been completely in the dark. He suspected Devon had known what was going on and ignored the entire situation.
“They’re not after Devon,” Theresa said. “The Justice Department is after Sergey Rashnikov, who’s a primary suspect in a sex trafficking ring. They’ll either use Devon’s connection to get Rashnikov, or they’ll find something they can prosecute Devon for to make an example of him.” Her gaze went from Justin, to Leo, to Devon, and finally landed on Anthony. “Nobody does everything within the confines of the law. If they look hard enough, they’ll find something.”
A shiver raced up Anthony’s spine. Was that true? He’d been pretty law-abiding, but their father? Well, who knew exactly? He’d had four boys and a wife to support, and he’d done anything and everything to keep them clothed, fed, and housed.
“Look,” Theresa said, clasping her hands on the table. “I’m advising you to consider this option. I am not, at this time, advising you to take it.” Her gaze returned to Devon. “But the Justice Department will keep looking. They’re not going to stop simply because they haven’t found anything yet. If you’re willing to testify, to be a witness, then I’ve had assurances that you’ll receive immunity. And not just that. The pressure you’re feeling with this investigation will all go away.”
“If he survives,” Justin snapped. “You’re talking about the fucking Russian mob. You know that, right? We’d be fucking around with one of the biggest thugs on the planet.”
“Yes, I know,” Theresa said.
Devon’s face was the same hue as the grey clouds hanging low in the sky.
“Nevertheless, I want you to consider the deal,” Theresa continued. “They’re not expecting you to make any decisions before the first of the year, which gives you time to think about it.”
“This is bullshit.” Justin jumped up from his chair and put his hands on his hips. “We didn’t do anything illegal. Devon didn’t do anything illegal.”
While Justin glared at their high-priced attorneys, Anthony kept his eyes fixed on his youngest brother. The putty color of Devon’s face had faded further, to an ashen white. The pointer finger of his right hand started tapping the back of his left. His gaze slid away from Justin toward the wall of windows, until Devon’s eye met Anthony’s stare.
An icy feeling seized Anthony’s gut.
Oh. Shit.
Sometimes being a brother who worked with family meant knowing too damned much about your colleagues. Knowing the subtle tells that indicated when they were telling the truth and when they were lying. Anthony raised an eyebrow, his stare never leaving Devon’s face. His little brother jerked his gaze away.
Anthony’s gut feeling had been right. Devon had definitely known about the girls. Maybe he even had a part in the operation. Whatever Devon had done, his hands hadn’t been entirely clean.
“I’ll do it,” Devon said.
Justin whipped his gaze toward Devon. “Like hell you will. What the fuck, Dev? You testify against this guy, you’ll be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life.”
“And if I don’t, I’ve got the threat of an indictment and potential jail time over my head for who knows how long. I’d rather take the devil I know than the devil I don’t.”
“Like I said.” Theresa stood, cueing the two other attorneys to rise as well. “We aren’t giving the US Attorney your decision until after the holidays. Think about the agreement and what it will mean. And of course call me with any questions or concerns you might have.” She picked up her briefcase. “But do consider all of the potential consequences. Justin is right. Sergey Rashnikov is one of the most powerful criminals in the world, with a huge international network. If he finds out that you testified against him, then you’ll be a high priority target for him and his compatriots. And you can assume he will find out.”
Devon took a deep breath, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t take back what he had said about the deal. Anthony’s heart lurched in his chest. What the fuck was Devon hiding, if he was willing to take a deal that sounded like an open-ended death sentence?
“Gentlemen.” Theresa walked toward the door and left, the other attorneys trailing in her wake.
Silence.
All four Travati brothers in one room, and there was silence. That rarely happened. Anthony couldn’t remember a time when one of them didn’t have something to say about something.
“Why do you want to do this?” Justin finally asked Devon.
Anthony came around the table and held up his hand. “Stop.”
Justin glared at him. “What the hell, Anthony? Now you don’t even care enough to talk to your own brother, who may or may not be going to prison?”
Anthony cocked an eyebrow. He leaned forward and placed his palms on the conference table. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he said with a cool, measured calm. “I j
ust want everyone to be on the same page before we begin. Anything incriminating that Devon says to us could make us accomplices, or potentially make us perjure ourselves. Brothers don’t have any sort of qualifying confidentiality. I’m good with that. I just want to make certain you are too.”
The brothers all exchanged looks. The Travatis had always subscribed to blood first and always. Family was the most important thing. Each of them nodded.
Justin leaned closer to Devon. Devon’s eyes shifted away from his older brother’s scrutiny, and a light sweat filmed his upper lip. His fingertips continued to tap an unheard beat on the back of his hand.
“Okay, Devon,” Justin sighed. “Tell us what the hell really happened.”
Chapter 8
“Thank you for coming with me today.” Aubrey hadn’t developed the full-on waddle that Shelly had seen in other women who were this far along, but she was definitely walking wide-hipped.
“When is the baby due?”
“March.” Aubrey smiled. “But it feels like next week.”
They turned the corner into a giant banquet hall. People carrying lights and ornaments and tinsel and evergreen branches scurried about the room. “We’re having the Travati Foundation Teddy Bear Luncheon here tomorrow, and I wanted to check on the progress. All the years they’ve been doing this before, the guys handed off the responsibility to Gwen.” Aubrey nodded toward the tall redhead at the far end of the room, the Travatis’ event planner. “And she’s always done a great job. But somehow, this year, this event got shuffled to me, I guess because I’m the only woman in the Travati family. So all the questions she used to ask Justin, she now asks me.”
Gwen waved and walked toward them. She wore a black sweater and pants and boots, her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her look screamed all kinds of urban sophistication.