by Bethany-Kris
“Haven—”
The anger she’d been holding at bay—just long enough for him to fuck her until she couldn’t think, and her body was a mindless blob of sensation—finally decided to come out to play. Last night had been too much, and all she wanted to do when they were done fucking was sleep off the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion.
She’d done that.
It was morning now, though.
She wasn’t so tired, but she was still pretty damn emotional.
“Why?” she asked him.
Andino folded his arms over his chest. “Why, what?”
“Why did you do that to me? Why tell me you love me, and then leave me like that? Do you know how deep that cut me? How much it fucking hurts in here?” She made a fist with her hand, and pressed it against her chest overtop her racing heart. “I’m not something for you to use and discard, Andino. I am not a toy. And you don’t get to treat me like one. So yeah, why. It’s the least you can do. If you actually love me, then you can give me a proper answer.”
He took a second, and then two.
“Except I can’t love you,” he finally said. Then, he corrected himself with, “Don’t love you.”
Haven straightened, and even through the stabbing pain making its way through her body, she hadn’t missed his first statement. He stared at her like he was made of ice—cold, and unfeeling. Not really there at all. Burning her from feet away.
Still, she’d heard it.
The way his voice dipped, and his words forced their way out. Like he had to make himself say those things, and not that he actually meant them at all.
I can’t love you.
She wanted to hate him.
Except she didn’t.
“I see you’re still a good liar,” Haven said.
Andino glanced away with a hard-set jaw, and unfeeling eyes. “You should go.”
Yeah, she definitely should.
Haven made quick work of pulling on the rest of her clothes, and avoided Andino’s stare all the while. She made sure to keep her promise to Snaps, and get him a treat from the fridge where she knew Andino kept them stored. She didn’t even look over her shoulder as she slipped out of the house. Looking back would have only caused her more pain, and she was trying her very best to let that go.
She needed to let him go.
“Hello,” came a voice a few feet away.
Haven almost ran head-first into the chest of Andino’s father.
Jesus Christ.
This morning couldn’t get any worse!
Had Andino knew his father was coming over this morning? Because she really would have appreciated that heads up. She would have left far sooner than she had, actually, just to avoid this whole nonsense.
She met the man’s gaze, and he quirked a brow high as his stare traveled from her, to the door she’d just closed. He said nothing for a long while, simply took in her appearance for long enough that a sense of awkwardness started to color up her cheeks with pink.
“Uh, hi,” Haven said.
Way to go.
Giovanni smiled faintly. “You look like you had a long night.”
Oh, God.
No, it could certainly get worse.
“Could we not?” she asked. “Because that would be great.”
The man cleared his throat, and chuckled. “Sure.”
“Thanks. Now, excuse me.”
Haven stepped forward to pass the man on the steps, but Giovanni didn’t move an inch. He stayed right where he was until she met his gaze again, and there was no way for her to hide the embarrassment on her cheeks.
The shame she felt …
“I should give you a warning,” the man said quietly, “about my son.”
“I don’t need one of those. Trust me.”
Andino had shown her more than enough; she had all the warnings she needed about him to last her a goddamn lifetime.
Giovanni shook his head subtly. “Mmm, no. I mean, for a while, Haven … you should be very careful about being seen with my son, and what you do with him. For yourself, but also for him. I know you don’t understand or know about our life, and maybe that’s for the better, but these are dangerous times for us. I worry that Andino doesn’t see clearly enough where you are concerned to consider that. That maybe he’s willing to allow … well, that doesn’t matter. This is about you, and not him. If you care for him, you’ll listen to me. You’ll be mindful, and careful.”
Well, fuck.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
She did care.
Too much.
• • •
Haven’s house was colder than she wanted it to be when she finally arrived home. Staying the night with Andino hadn’t exactly been the plan, and now it kind of felt like the rising sun in the backdrop of her kitchen window was mocking her.
Well done, you fucked him again.
Maybe cold wasn’t the right word for her place. Maybe empty would fit the bill better. And that was just as big of a problem as the cold thing, frankly.
She missed her friend.
Missed Maria, too.
She really missed Andino.
Was this going to be her life now?
The stupid girl who knew better, but kept going back for more until there was nothing left of her to take? Because that’s how it felt, in a lot of ways. As though every time she and Andino crossed paths, she left a piece of herself with him, and he had yet to give those many pieces back to her.
He just kept them.
So yes, she was cold, empty, and entirely fucking alone.
She swore the faint ache between her thighs, and the hunger still burning brightly through her body was something else that was mocking her. Every step she took inside her home reminded her of the night before. Her skin still hummed from his touch, and how it left her higher than ever.
This wasn’t fair.
Why did it have to be like this?
How could he look at her, say he didn’t love her like he meant it, and just lie even though he knew it was killing her? How could she keep wanting him, and loving him when this was what he did?
How?
Haven was nursing her second cup of coffee, and feeling like the worst kind of shit when a knock echoed on her front door. She had every mind to ignore whoever the fuck it was, and stay right where she sat. The last thing she wanted to do was move.
Wallow some more.
Continue her pity party.
Not move.
When the persistent knocking continued, Haven finally got irritated enough to go answer the door. She practically tossed her cup into the sink, uncaring if the mug broke. She answered the door by flinging it open with a harsh, “What?”
The young man—he couldn’t be more than twenty—on the other side of the door wore a white uniform with a flower logo printed on the breast pocket. He held out a bushel of mixed winter flowers.
“Miss … Haven Murphy?” the man asked quietly. “Sorry, but I was told to keep knocking until you answered.”
Haven blinked. “Oh?”
“Yes. These are for you.” He handed the flowers over, adding, “Have a great day.”
Standing in the cold March air in her opened doorway, Haven stared at the flowers in her hand. Tucked in the very top of the bushel was a card with handwriting that wasn’t familiar, but the name attached certainly was.
It simply read, You’re right. I am a terribly good liar. –Andino
Because he did, she knew.
Loved her.
So, why did he have to hurt her?
Why play with her heart like this?
Why?
FIVE
Andino stepped out of his house, and eyed the quiet street. The sky was bright, and near cloudless. Despite the cold, it was a beautiful morning. The street looked peaceful, and Andino’s presence on his doorstep hadn’t changed that fact.
It wasn’t that he expected something to happen the moment he left his place, considering enforcers had b
een posted at his door, and all that good shit, but still. He hadn’t left the house since the shooting a few days earlier—doctor’s orders. Well, and Dante’s.
So, that first step felt … cautious.
Yes, that was as good of a word as any.
He didn’t for a second think the Calabrese brothers were stupid enough to attack him the very second he left his house for the first time, but it was hard to tell what those bastards were capable of sometimes. Hadn’t they already proven that they were more than willing to kick a man when he was already down if that meant getting what they wanted?
Andino was not that stupid.
Fool me once, and all that nonsense.
He was not going to allow them to get one over on him a second time. He’d eat the barrel of his own gun first, and that wasn’t even him being dramatic.
Snaps trailed close to Andino’s side, but kept his nose to the ground. Apparently, even the dog wasn’t going to leave anything to chance today.
So was his life.
“Come on, then,” Andino said, pulling open the passenger door to a rental Mercedes. His fucking Lexus was still in the shop getting patched up. It’d taken ten bullets, and he didn’t want the car back unless it was in perfect condition. Snaps gave the vehicle a look, clearly recognizing it wasn’t the car he preferred. “Get in—we’re leaving.”
The dog huffed in that way of his—solemn and irritated at the same time—but was quick to follow the order, and jump inside the car. Andino closed the passenger door behind his pup, and then rounded the front to slide in the driver’s side.
But not before giving the enforcer who was trailing him today a look. The guy had parked on the other side of the road, and given the cold March air, had stayed inside his running vehicle. Andino didn’t blame him.
It wasn’t long before Andino was on the road, and heading for the heart of the city. The faint sting in his arm kept him from getting too comfortable every time he had to move the steering wheel even a fraction of an inch.
Fuck.
That bullet graze was not going to let up.
His phone chimed with a call just as he pulled onto a familiar block in upper Manhattan, but he didn’t bother to pick it up even as the car’s speakers told him who the caller was. His father. He’d see Gio in less than ten minutes, anyway. Surely, he could wait.
Andino pulled the Mercedes into a back alleyway, and parked. Snaps wasn’t allowed inside restaurants, but certainly not businesses that didn’t belong to Andino. Sure, this place was his uncle’s, but that didn’t make a difference to the health code, and inspectors. It only took one person making a goddamn complaint.
That just meant Andino had to be … careful.
With Snaps close to his side, Andino approached the back exit door of the business, and knocked twice with two knuckles. Quickly, the door was opened to showcase Lucian’s enforcer who always kept watch at his post as long as his boss was working inside the private dining section of the business.
“Andino,” the enforcer greeted.
Soon, the man would be calling him boss.
Andino had … sort of … resigned himself to that fact. He wasn’t as fucking stuck in his feelings and emotions as he once had been about the whole thing. It might not have been what he would have chosen, but it was for the best.
And wasn’t that what counted?
Apparently so.
“Your father and Lucian are in the private section,” the man said.
Andino nodded, and stepped in the doorway. Snaps was quick to follow even when the enforcer gave the pup a look like he was going to say something. The man wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.
Going through the back was an easy way to keep Snaps from being seen. The hallway led past the offices, and into another section that allowed someone to go to the main floor, into the kitchen, or the private area. A patron never even saw someone coming in and out of the back.
Made for easy, clean business.
Lucian was smart like that—all his restaurants had this sort of design in the back.
It wasn’t the first time the dog had been inside this particular business, but he did know it didn’t belong to Andino. So when they entered the private section, Snaps was quick to sit his ass down next to the doorway just inside the room, and he didn’t move even when Andino greeted his uncle and father.
“Starting without me?”
Gio grinned around the bite of waffle in his mouth. “We weren’t sure how long it was going to take for you to drag your ass out of bed, son.”
Lucian pointed a fork in his younger brother’s direction. “Exactly that.”
“Excuses.”
Andino dropped into the chair beside his father, and didn’t miss how Lucian was quick to press a button on the table. Less than a minute later, a server came in with fresh coffee, and a hot plate of breakfast food. She set it down in front of Andino with a smile before making her presence scarce.
“See, I didn’t forget about you, nipote,” Lucian said. “Eat first, business later.”
Andino couldn’t find it in himself to argue. Even though he’d gone several days being locked inside his house to rest after the shooting, and that meant he’d needed to let business slip a bit, this was a good way to start the day.
Food.
Family.
Business last.
Usually, business always came first.
The three ate in a comfortable silence. Snaps only left his position beside the door when Andino offered him two strips of bacon as a treat for behaving, but he was quick to go back to his spot once he had the meat.
It was only when Andino had finished his plate, and was sipping on the black coffee that his uncle decided to break the silence.
“We have a problem,” his uncle said.
Gio was still working on his plate, so he said nothing. Andino, on the other hand, was all ears.
“We have a lot of problems,” Andino returned, “so you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“John and Siena.”
Shit.
Yeah, that.
Andino set his cup down, and scrubbed a hand down his face. “With the way things are right now, I don’t see how the two of them can—”
“We made her a promise,” Lucian interjected quietly. “She wants to be with my son, and he is happy with her. I don’t give my word if I can’t keep it.”
“And you think I do?”
Lucian gave Andino a look that spoke volumes without actually needing to say anything at all. No, his uncle knew him well. Andino’s word meant the world. If he gave it, then he kept it. That was the end of it.
But this … this was fucking complicated.
All sorts of messy.
John was still in the psychiatric facility working on his shit, and Siena Calabrese was now locked away by her brothers. There were the beginnings of a street war echoing through the city between their family, and hers.
Nothing about this was easy.
“Dante wants a peaceful resolution,” Giovanni said, finally finishing with his plate. He pushed the dish away as he glanced up, adding, “So, I don’t know how that factors into the John and Siena thing, but not in any way that ends well for them, I imagine.”
To say the least …
“A peaceful resolution would be best,” Andino agreed.
From the perspective of a boss, he understood the need. As a man who had been wronged by the Calabrese, and knew just how much damage they had already done, he figured burning them to the ground would be the better choice.
Yeah.
Not easy at all.
“She makes John happy,” Lucian repeated.
“I’ll keep my word,” Andino replied.
A look passed between him and his uncle, silent and contemplative. An agreement without either of them actually saying a thing. Gio cleared his throat, and sat back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest, but he didn’t add anything to the conversation.
“Dante in
tends to make peace,” Lucian said.
“Well, he can try.”
Andino didn’t intend to let that happen; at least, not in the way his uncle wanted. There were things he would never bow to—the Calabrese was one of them.
His father frowned. “Dante might take that as—”
“Dante doesn’t have to know,” Andino said vaguely. “Not now, anyway.”
Gio let out a sigh. “This is not how Marcellos work.”
“If it isn’t how we work,” Andino countered, “then this breakfast never should have happened. You shouldn’t have invited me here. And we shouldn’t have agreed to move forward with our own plans in the first place. But here we are, and it needs to happen.”
“It does,” Lucian agreed.
No, Dante wouldn’t like it. For now, Andino simply needed to worry about other things, and in the meantime, keep his uncle happy. When it was all said and done, what could Dante really do about Andino’s plans for the Calabrese?
Nothing.
“All right,” Lucian said, glancing at his phone. “I need to head out.”
“You’re going to see John, yeah?”
Lucian nodded. “I’m due a visit. Or at least, see Leonard. The man keeps me informed as much as he can.”
“Say hello for me,” Andino replied.
“I will.”
It was only once Lucian was gone from the private room that Gio picked up his coffee cup, and took a sip. He turned his gaze on his son in that contemplative way again. Andino fully expected his father to ask about the Dante issue again, but the man surprised him.
And not in a good way.
“You’re messing with Haven again,” his father said. “You need to be careful.”
Andino downed the rest of his coffee, and stood from the table. “How about you let me handle that, Dad.”
“But are you?”
“Pardon?”
“Handling it, Andino. Are you?”
“In the way I want to.”
For now.
It was the best he could offer.
• • •
Andino held up a single finger and crooked it inward as Pink—one of his most trusted enforcers—darkened the doorway of his restaurant’s office. He continued his conversation on the phone even as the enforcer stepped into the office, and closed the door behind him.