by Bethany-Kris
“Yes, ma’am.”
Neeya moved to where her stepson sat in his wheelchair. Though he smiled often at his sisters and seemed to happily respond to whatever they said to him, there was a noticeable unease about him. As if sadness and anger were warring within him. Melina recognized and knew those feelings well.
“Enric, glad to finally see you. My girls have missed you.”
The young man offered his stepmother his hand. “I’ve missed them.”
Neeya ignored his handshake and hugged him to her instead. Somehow Melina felt as if she’d just witnessed a pivotal moment. Enric was wounded and uncertain of his place in either family right now. His stepmother’s open embrace of him was a signal that he belonged. With everything he’d been through, Melina knew it meant something to him whether he acknowledged it out loud or not.
“Don’t be a stranger.” Neeya said as she pulled away.
“I could say the same thing,” Melina said.
She moved closer to the young man and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Marquise and I have been waiting for a visit.”
Enric regarded her with eyes so like his father. “Skip keeps me busy.”
Melina cut her eyes at her husband. “Looks like I need to have a talk with my husband.”
“Thanks, Enric. You just got me in trouble with my wife.” There was a teasing lit in his voice as he regarded the young soldier.
“Sorry.”
Melina shook her head. “No apologies. Just come by and see us sometimes. We owe you so much.”
“I will,” Enric said.
He looked away briefly in an effort to collect himself. A few minutes later, everyone had said their goodbyes and was leaving the mansion, when Melina had a thought.
“Do you have anything pressing you need to attend to right now?” she asked her husband.
Mac shook his head. “No. Why?”
“Would you mind taking Marquise back to the house while I take your car and drop by The Dollhouse?”
“I see that look in your eyes, wife. What are you up to?”
“Never speak about a move. Just put it in motion.”
Mac lifted a brow. “Very sage-like advice. You constantly surprise me, doll.”
Melina came closer and placed a hand on her husband’s face. “And that’s what keeps things interesting, don’t you agree?”
Mac nodded before his lips captured hers. His tongue touched the seam of her lips, before he kissed her again. Hard. Her body ached for him. For the chance to be one with him again. A discrete clearing of the throat made them move apart.
“Sorry to interrupt, Skip. Would you like me to escort the missus to do her business?” Samuel asked.
“No, Samuel. That won’t be necessary,” Melina said.
“Melina?”
She handed their son to Mac. “Relax. I’ll be gone less than three hours. I’ll text you when I make it, and I’m ready to leave.”
Mac hesitated, before he finally acquiesced to her wishes. “All right.”
Marquise chose that precise moment to start wailing. She gave her husband a pitying look.
“It’s your turn. Now, keys please.”
Mac handed her his keys. She gave him and her son a quick kiss, before grabbing her purse from inside the limousine and quickly walking over to where Mac’s Challenger was parked. Unlocking the car and sliding easily behind the wheel, Melina buckled up, put the car in gear and roared down the Pivetti driveway. Her conversation with Neeya replayed again in her mind. Idly sitting by had never been her style and just because it was required of her now, didn’t mean she couldn’t put some plans of her own in play.
It seemed every light was green as she drove the stretch of highway that would take her to The Dollhouse. Her purpose for stopping by was threefold. Ten minutes later, she pulled into her reserved parking space and texted her husband. Mac responded back instantly. She rolled her eyes at his instructions to keep him posted. Exiting and locking the car behind her, Melina walked inside and was mildly surprised to see the club at half capacity. This time of the day was usually slow before the evening rush.
She greeted one of her hostesses, and the men and women working the bar, before heading to her office. Once she was inside, she quickly looked over the books and did her own calculations. Though she had an accountant, Melina believed in being on top of her business. An hour later she was done and satisfied.
“Boss Lady!”
Melina looked up and saw Erika standing in the doorway.
“Well, hey stranger. Nice to see you,” Melina said.
She came from behind her desk and hugged Erika. The two women had been through an ordeal together. In the ensuing happiness of her son’s birth, she hadn’t seen or called her friend.
“I could say the same about you. Domestic bliss has taken over everything, huh?”
Melina drew back. “No. I still have a business to run and interests to protect.”
“I heard that. How’s the munchkin?”
“Perfect. Every day he does some new little thing that makes my heart melt.”
Melina sat back down behind her desk.
“I bet. You better watch him. Marquise is going to be a lady killer like his daddy.”
“I don’t even want to think that far ahead.”
Erika laughed as she sat on the edge of the leather armchair in the room. “Get ready for it, mama. You’re going to have little girls sending home notes asking, Do you like me?”
“And they will be going straight into the trash. Nope. Not having it.”
“You look really happy, Melina. I’m glad.”
“I can say the same about you. Not to mention the type of money you’ve been bringing in. I’m incredibly impressed.”
“Don’t be too impressed. Two thirds of it is from one particular patron. You know him pretty well, actually.”
Melina leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. “I do.”
“Yes. Anthony Corelli.”
Internally, Melina smiled. For once maybe her plans and Fate’s were going to line up.
“I don’t think anyone really knows Anthony Corelli.”
“Well, he usually has something to say about you,” Erika said.
“Really? I can’t imagine why.”
“To be honest, I think he has a hard nut for you, and I’m just a poor substitute. But I’m all right with it. As long as he keeps the green flowing, you’ll get no complaints from me.”
“I can imagine the two of you get along very well.”
Erika plucked a stray eyelash from her eye. “We do. Sometimes we talk for a bit. I can tell his work stresses him out.”
“Is that so?”
“From what I gather. Is there a reason you’re so interested in Anthony Corelli all of a sudden?”
Melina had to think and think fast. She and Erika were friends. She’d invited the young woman into her world and so far that gesture hadn’t been misplaced. But she also didn’t need Erika to be privy to anything that might come back to haunt her if things went sour.
“Actually there is.”
Erika’s eyes stretched. “Oh. Do tell?”
“I just feel like knowing Anthony a little better might help ease some tension. All I really know about the man is that he is a business associate of my husband’s. Other than that Anthony’s a blank slate.”
“I sort of get the feeling he might not be too fond of Mac.” Erika bit her lip.
“I do too, and I want to do something about that. Maybe if I knew a little more about the man, the two of them could come to a meeting of minds on certain things.”
“It’s a good idea, I think.”
“I’m glad because you are in a unique position to help me, and I can assure you I have no problem making it more than worth your while.”
Her petite friend regarded her with a shrewd gaze and for just a moment, Melina feared that she might have made a mistake. Perhaps she’d said too much or tipped her hand.
“I’m in, alt
hough let me warn you, sometimes he doesn’t say too much. Or if he does it’s some crass remark about how sexy you are or how big your tits have gotten with the pregnancy and all.”
Melina wrinkled her nose. “Why am I not surprised? Men.”
Erika shrugged, a half-smile on her face. “Hey. All I can say is you’ve made quite the impression on the man.”
“I can assure you it wasn’t my intent.”
“Oh, I know. Even Ray Charles could see how in love you and Mac are. So when do you want me to make a report?”
“Only if you have something. Other than that business as usual. You can look for an extra incentive with your next paycheck.”
Erika stood up. “Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”
“Yeah, now that you mention it. I’m thinking about having a private get together for my husband and a few friends. Find out how many of the girls would like to participate.”
“Will do. I’ll talk to you soon,” Erika said before leaving.
When she’d shut the door behind her, Melina smiled. Perhaps this might go off without a hitch. She didn’t know how Mac would feel about her plan as far as Anthony was concerned, but he’d surely agree to doing a little something for his guys. The idea had come to her when she saw Enric. The young man had nearly lost his life trying to protect her. Marquise might not be here if it wasn’t for him. The same could be said of Giuseppe, who was still being treated for the terrible burns he’d gotten from a car bomb meant for her.
Melina understood that this lifestyle was a choice. The men who become a part of it were no angels, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t deserve to know their sacrifices were appreciated.
After all, what good was status and money if you were dead? Yes, a nice get together for Mac and his crew would probably do wonders for morale. Besides that, if word discretely got out, there was no doubt it would raise her husband a head above the other Capos. And ensure the continuing loyalty of his crew.
The game was in motion.
“This is fucking undignified,” Enric grumbled as Mac helped to pull him from the vehicle and into his waiting wheelchair.
“Next time I can build a ramp into the back of the SUV, shove the back seats down to give you some room, and you can just wheel yourself in and out, how’s that?” Mac asked.
Enric glared up at his Capo, his hands already clasping tightly around the wheels of his chair, looking ready to get the hell away from Mac as soon as he possibly could. “Was that serious or sarcasm?”
“Bit of both.”
Enric made a disgusted noise under his breath. “Of course, it was.”
“Depends on how you like the idea.”
“I’d like to be able to drive myself around.”
Mac’s brow raised at that statement. “Really, the man who refused to even buy himself a shitty little second-hand car a year ago now wants his own vehicle, with all the bells and whistles for someone in a wheelchair, so he can drive himself around?”
“Self-sufficiency, Mac.”
Perhaps.
Or perhaps Enric was just in one of his moods, and this was the easiest thing to moan and groan about.
“It’d be nice, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Do you even have your license?” Mac asked.
Enric shrugged. “Somewhere.”
Mac decided to indulge Enric’s anger and whining, if only because the young man had been so focused on that instead of their arrival at their destination; he knew all too well how Enric would react once he figured out Mac had gotten ahold of the schedule for his physical therapy appointments. Not to mention, with a few phone calls, Mac had managed to get Enric into a new program and facility with great faculty, one of which, he knew personally.
A man in Enric’s position couldn’t ask for more than the best of the best to get him back on track. Mac had decided that regardless of what Enric felt at the moment, eventually on the outside and on the inside, he would be better for making the effort.
Even if he bitched a lot along the way to get there.
Eventually, when he was on his feet, walking, and back to his normal self, Enric would be grateful. Mac had a feeling it was still going be a hellish road to get there.
After all, the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.
Enric surveyed the clinic’s parking lot. His gaze narrowed when his attention fell on the sign above the front entrance. “Physical therapy?”
“You have appointments four days a week.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You haven’t been going to them at all, Enric.”
“I don’t—”
“Want to walk again, apparently,” Mac interrupted.
Enric’s mouth snapped shut audibly before his burning gaze turned on Mac. “I want to fucking walk again, Mac.”
“Then you don’t want to put in the effort because sometimes you need help, and you get tired; sometimes it hurts, or it’s just too much; maybe your body aches, and you need a rest, or you feel like giving up, but saying any of that is undignified to you. Humiliating, even. Degrading as a man to admit you’re scared to do something because you believe that maybe—fuck, just maybe—you can’t do it.”
Enric didn’t say a word.
Mac didn’t really need him to.
“Come on,” Mac urged, “tell me how wrong I am, Enric.”
Stubborn as a fucking mule, Enric didn’t speak.
“This is going to take work,” Mac told Enric, quietly but firmly. “It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to take a long time. You have to want it more than anything else in your life, so that you can truly appreciate it once you have it back. Most of us are born with the ability to learn how to walk and run, and we don’t understand how easily that ability can be taken away. You’re lucky, Enric, because you can get up and walk again if you just put in the fucking effort. There are people who would give anything for the chance you have—stop wasting it.
“What if your father never gets out of prison, huh?” Mac asked sharply, never once allowing Enric to look away from him. “Who is going to help your sisters move into new apartments for college, or move out of dorms after graduations, or even walk them down the aisle when they get married? They’re going to need somebody to do it, if Luca can’t, and my bet is they’ll look to you. How do you plan on telling them you can’t do those things because you didn’t want to work for it when you had the chance?”
Enric’s gaze dropped from Mac, but not before he saw the flash of shame in the younger man’s eyes. “I know that, but I’m busy, too. It’s not as easy as just making the choice to come, I actually have to make the time to be here.”
“We’ll make the damn time. Your moment of wallowing is over, Enric. It’s time to work for it. You want to complain and whine? You can do that when your muscles ache and your bones hurt from therapy. You won’t be complaining because life is so unfair that you have the possibility of a second chance, but you’re too involved in your self-pity to see it.”
“I’m not—” Enric stopped mid-sentence at the sight of Mac’s scowl, then quickly added, “This is unfair. You tricked me here.”
“I’m sorry this happened, it sucks. But you’re better than what you’re being. And you know it, Enric.”
“All right.”
That was that.
Mac let Enric wheel himself to the front entrance, and go inside alone. He had to want it, after all. Mac couldn’t do that for the guy. He had to do that himself.
Satisfied with his good deed for the day, Mac got back in his vehicle, and headed for the heart of the city for some work he had to do.
Or rather, a woman who didn’t like to wait.
It seemed no matter the time of day, there was always some kind of activity inside The Dollhouse. Mac understood that a great deal of made men in the Pivetti Organization made use of the business for more … carnal reasons, despite their supposedly happy wives at home. While he didn’t approve of another man’s infidelity, it also wasn’t Mac�
��s place to comment on a man’s personal tastes and choices so long as all parties were willing in whatever goings on happened behind the closed doors in The Dollhouse.
But for every man who walked into The Dollhouse with some sort of sex on his mind, another man would be waiting to chat once the business of pleasure was out of the way. Family business was better held at safe establishments, and thankfully, The Dollhouse had proven itself to be just that.
Even with the unfortunate shooting and subsequent attention it received from the officials before the boss was locked away.
Mac, on the other hand, was careful about just how much time he spent at The Dollhouse. He certainly didn’t go there for pleasure—his wife was more than capable of handling his needs whenever and however he wanted them taken care of. And because it was Melina’s business, there was no hiding the fact she was Mac’s wife.
He had no intention of tampering the Pivetti men’s desires to discuss or conduct business, especially in a place where Mac had eyes and ears listening. He figured that if he showed his face at The Dollhouse too much, other men might feel his presence was also being asserted into their business. That would not be good for him on the Capo side of things, or the side where he needed information about the men to make sure everything was running smoothly while the boss was away with no plans of that changing.
Again, eyes and ears.
So, Mac stayed away from the business as much as he possibly could. He only showed up on rare occasions, barely talked to anyone but his wife while he was there, and he didn’t stay for long before leaving without so much as a goodbye to any man he might see on the main floor.
The plan had been working just fine for him.
Today was no exception to that rule as he entered The Dollhouse, his gaze sweeping the main floor and taking inventory of faces he recognized. No one too important, he noted, and certainly not anyone he had been having trouble with—Anthony, to be specific.
Mac quickly crossed the floor, accepting a tumbler of water from one of the servers as he headed for the back office where his wife usually was when she was working. Ever since their son had been born, work, schedules, and life was a carefully planned event for Mac and Melina. He was aware his wife struggled with the idea of working full-time and leaving her newborn son with either Mac’s mother, or even Mac in the evenings, when the baby was so new. But at the same time, his wife was unwilling to hand more control of her business over to someone else so that she had more time to be with her boy.