Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken

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Dangerous Beauty: Part Four: Beautifully Broken Page 9

by Michelle Hardin


  “Don’t get mad, Reanna,” Tamara said, reaching out to take her hand once again. “I’m not trying to upset you. I don’t want you to … run away from this, Rea. You have a tendency to run away from promising relationships because of your, completely understandable, trust issues. I just don’t want you to miss out on something good. I’ve seen you pass up so many good guys, and I don’t want you to pass this up because I think it might be, you know,” she shrugged, “the real thing.”

  When she saw the look on her sister’s face, she immediately calmed down, feeling bad for letting her emotions get involved when her little sister was just trying to help. “I’m sorry,” she apologized with a soft sigh, giving Tamara’s hand a light squeeze. Though Reanna had little interest in playing any of Tamara’s games with Kyle, she would play along with her sister for now, only to appease her of course. She didn’t think a relationship with Kyle was promising—it would never be, not with Aniyah still in his life as well as hers; it would only be drama—but she knew her sister meant well in wanting to help her. “I want your help,” she said softly. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Tamara’s eyes lit up brightly as she bounced up and down in her seat. “Really? You want my help?”

  The hopeful look in her big brown eyes made Reanna’s smile return. With a nod of her head, Reanna prepared herself to hear, what she expected to be, a very interesting plan of action.

  “All right!” she squealed clapping her hands together. “Step number one …”

  ~*~

  Her advice had been to cut him off.

  Cut him off.

  Stop flirting, limit the touching; stop cooking for him, being his friend, his emotional support, his cuddle-buddy when sleep didn’t come easy for him.

  Basically, stop being the man’s wife.

  They were all simple tasks. Things she should have probably considered doing a long time ago, if only to preserve her heart, but … for some stupid reason, Reanna was struggling to even imagine breaking her connection with Kyle in such a way. Her feelings were all mixed up. Which all the more proved that Tamara and Ronaldo were right, right? She needed to ease up, take a step back from the relationship, and perhaps even go on a date with a promising prospect.

  Reanna sighed. She didn’t know if she could do that.

  It was funny really. In her frustration earlier, she’d actually wanted to put some distance between herself and Kyle, be less involved, less friendly, and more … reserved with him. Friends didn’t touch the way Kyle touched her, the way he held her, teased her. She’d never had a friend so obsessed with her smile, the dimples on her cheeks. She wanted less of that intimacy with him because she wasn’t exactly sure it was appropriate anymore. Not to mention the guilt she felt on a daily basis because he was Aniyah’s boyfriend. She was sick of the heartbreak she felt every time he gazed deeply into her eyes and made her think he had real feelings for her, then he’d turn away from her, reject her, and make her doubt her ability to read the signs.

  Ugh! It was all too much … he was too much. And honestly, Reanna wasn’t sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to do that. She wanted to put it all out on the table, tell Kyle how she felt. She wanted to tell him that she thought about him all the time, about Sofia. That her best days were when she was with them. And though she loved being home with Ronaldo and Tamara, she felt sick every time she had to leave them.

  She wanted to tell him all of this, but she just couldn’t. To tell him would mean she was putting her heart out on the line … trusting him not to hurt her. Though she trusted Kyle with many things, her life being one, she didn’t exactly trust him with her heart. In all honesty, he’d never really done anything to make her think she could, and he’d pretty much done everything to show her that she shouldn’t.

  But even still …

  She just couldn’t shake the feeling that they needed her.

  What if Sofia got sick and couldn’t go to school, or Kyle had one of his night terrors and didn’t get any sleep for work the following morning? How could she take care of them from all the way in Pleasant View?

  Shaking her head, Reanna lay back on her bed with a long sigh. She was being absurd, thinking this way. She knew that. It was just that before she’d met Sofia it had been a long time since she really felt … needed. Yes, she was wanted for her business, her skills as a photographer, but a career could only do so much for a woman like her. Though she had achieved a lot in such a short time—though she had riches, a beautiful home, great friends, and a wonderful little family, Reanna had still felt an emptiness. A place in her heart that was being neglected, unfulfilled.

  Sofia filled part of that emptiness, then Kyle had come along, and filled it even more. Though, there was still a small part of her that still felt that hollowness on the inside, at least with Kyle and Sofia she wasn’t completely miserable … just a little sad sometimes. She was afraid of losing that, losing them, and because of that fear, she’d been okay with the way things were going. But now …

  Reanna just didn’t know if she could go on like this. Maybe Ronaldo and Tamara had been right. It was time to pull back, revaluate a few things, and figure out if this … thing she had with Kyle was really all she wanted.

  Chapter 6: Dinner with Dad

  “What’s this? Where is your food?”

  Kyle looked up from the transcript seated in his lap when his father walked into the home office, one hand adjusting the tie on his black sweat pants, and the other holding a bowl full of fried garlic chicken cutlets and penne noodles, covered in Kyle’s signature parmesan cream sauce.

  “You cooked all of that good food, and you do not want a plate?”

  Giving his father a half smile, Kyle shook his head, then looked back down to the transcript in his lap. “No thank you, Pop. I’m not interested.”

  He’d made that dinner more so for his family than himself anyway.

  They all loved his cooking, so nights when he came to his father’s home, whether it be for the pleasure of visiting or to seek the man’s counsel for work and life in general, Kyle would cook dinner for his family. A skill his father had taught him when he’d been just a boy.

  Normally, after he’d cook they’d all eat together, but tonight was different. Kyle was far too preoccupied to be hungry. The past two weeks had been hell in both his business life and personal life. Tonight, instead of dining with his step-mother, little sister, brother, and daughter, Kyle had decided to stay in his father’s office and go over his latest work-related crisis.

  Not the most appealing activity? Maybe. But he was far too preoccupied tonight to do anything else. And work, unlike his personal life, was something he could gain control of easily.

  “Are you sure?” his father asked him, taking a seat behind his desk. “It’s good.”

  Kyle laughed softly. He knew it was, he’d made it. “I’m fine, Pop.”

  “Good food opens the mind, son, helps a man think clearly.”

  He snorted, shaking his head. A ‘clearer’ mind was the last thing he needed right now. “What is it that helps a man stop thinking clearly then? My mind has been a bit too ‘open’ lately anyway. I wouldn’t mind a bit of peace.”

  Between his ever-expanding work schedule, his steadily worsening night terrors, and his ever-growing need for a woman that he didn’t have, Kyle was closer to losing his mind than he’d ever been before.

  It’d been two weeks since he’d talked to her … heard her voice. And a couple of weekends back, when she’d watched Sofia, he had come home early from a horrible evening with Aniyah, and Reanna had barely said three words to him. They hadn’t had dinner together, they hadn’t talked, and she’d left instead of sleeping at the penthouse as she usually did. He didn’t want it to be true, but he was pretty sure she was pulling away from him. She just seemed so … distant. She barely spoke, and when she called she’d only speak to Sofia. Hardly two words to him and the worst part was she seemed compl
etely unaffected by the separation. And though he’d known this … separating would start happening eventually, Kyle was far from being ready for life without Reanna.

  He didn’t know what he was going to do. Why was she shutting him out?

  Okay he knew why, but that still didn’t make him feel any better. Actually, the knowledge that it was his stupid decisions that led to her distancing herself from him only made the pain of being apart from her more unbearable. And it had only been a couple of weeks, too. If he couldn’t make it this long without feeling as if he were suffocating without her, he had no fucking idea how he was going to make it another day. He could barely get through work, sleep was becoming more and more difficult with each passing night, and his night terrors came every time he’d close his eyes for more than five minutes.

  Shifting in his seat, Kyle inhaled a deep breath, fighting against the feeling of his stomach twisting into a painful knot. He’d been having that same feeling every time he thought over the situations plaguing his personal life. He could barely focus on anything other than Reanna and how much he missed her. Plus, at work, the consigliere of the fucking Bonaducci family was getting on his goddamn nerves; making the peace agreement between the two families was a lot harder to achieve than it should have been.

  Honestly, the only thing getting Kyle through each day was his love for Sofia—knowing that he was all she had. And because he was a single father, the only parent in his ladybug’s life, temporarily ‘losing his mind’ was not a luxury afforded to him.

  “My God, son.”

  Kyle’s eyes shot up too his father when he chuckled the words with a full mouth.

  “Ana said you looked troubled, but I didn’t know she’d be right…” The man sat his bowl down, picked up a napkin, and wiped his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you think so hard.”

  Kyle frowned. “What?” He hadn’t been thinking hard … and was that an insult? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, figlio.” Concern filled the older man’s eyes as he leaned forward, resting his folded arms on his desk. “Is it work?” he asked.

  And of course, finding that issue to be the easiest of all that he was currently facing, Kyle nodded his head.

  “Yes,” he answered.

  His father released a long sigh. “You’re lying,” he said, sitting back in his seat. “But since it seems that you are unready to share what is really causing you to skip meals,” he motioned to Kyle’s face, “to lose sleep … let’s talk about your work first, shall we?”

  Kyle nodded, agreeing with his father. He was right; Kyle had been lying, but only half lying. He did really want help with his work. He’d actually been waiting weeks to seek his father’s counsel on the deal with the Bonaduccis.

  “It’s a peace agreement,” Kyle said.

  “After the attack on Salerno territory?” Cesare asked.

  “Yes.” Standing from his seat, he walked over to his father’s desk and handed him a copy of the transcript. “I had my first conversation with David Mitchum …” consigliere to the Bonaducci crime family, “… transcribed,” in code of course, “and this is what we talked about. It’s mostly him, demanding shit.”

  His father took the transcript in his hand. “You chose peace over retaliation?”

  Kyle nodded. “Yes …”

  “And the Don has approved?” he asked, leaning forward to grab his glasses. He stared down at the transcript with a frown covering his face.

  “He wasn’t happy about it,” Kyle answered honestly. “I can tell he’s not completely on board with my decision, but you know Nathan.”

  Cesare nodded. “He’s just like his father … He’ll give you a chance to prove him wrong.”

  “All the more reason not to fuck it up,” Kyle interjected. “He put this in my hands, Pop. I know that peace is the best option.”

  “It will make you look good in the eyes of the other families.” He glanced up at Kyle. “They’re all watching you. The Salerno Organization has done a bit too well over the past couple of years. They’re scared.”

  “Exactly,” Kyle agreed. “The abundance of power that S.O. has acquired intimidates them. My belief is that they are all deciding where to stack their chips at this point in time, and they are leaning toward Bonaducci.”

  “Nathan is too powerful …”

  Kyle nodded. “If we retaliate, we’ll show too much strength, too soon.”

  “They’ll align and turn against you.”

  “And if they attempt to push us out, we’ll lose alliances. And though we’d beat them …”

  “Far too easily,” Cesare agreed.

  “I mean to give them the illusion that we give a fuck …”

  Cesare tossed back his head in laughter.

  “… just to maintain order of course. So to ensure we don’t break the trust of our friends in New York, I want to make ‘fake peace’ with the Don Bonaducci.” Kyle shrugged. “Business is better when we have the New York families as allies. Losing them could mean losing some very useful connections.”

  “It’s brilliant, son,” Cesare chuckled, setting the transcript down on his desk. “It’s exactly what I would do.”

  Kyle nodded. “I know.” His father had taught him everything he knew.

  “So what has you stuck then?” he asked. “You wouldn’t be seeking my help for no reason.”

  Kyle motioned toward the transcript. “Well, did you read it?” He knew his father had just skimmed the page, so odds were he’d missed it.

  Nodding his head, his father reached forward, picked up the transcript, then relaxed back in his seat.

  “Let’s see what you have here.” He adjusted his glasses, and read through the document. “Mmmhmm …”

  Kyle crossed one leg over the other as he sat back and watched for the man’s reaction.

  “This doesn’t seem too bad, Kyle. I—”

  His words cut off when he finally reached the sentence Kyle had been waiting for him to reach. The deadly glare was immediate.

  “This will never be, Kyle.”

  Kyle nodded his head. “I know that,” he explained. “I’ve been pushing for the idiot to accept what he’s been offered, but he insists that Don Bonaducci wants and deserves more.”

  “The only thing Eric Bonaducci deserves is a bullet in his throat,” his father shot sharply. “Take it back.” He tossed the transcripts on the desk. “Don’t give them shit.”

  Kyle frowned. “What?”

  “You heard me. Take everything you’ve offered back.”

  Uncrossing his legs, Kyle leaned forward in his seat. “You just gave me your approval for my approach …”

  He nodded. “And I approve. I just think you should move forward without offering them the territory.”

  Kyle stared at his father blankly. “No territory?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t give the fuckers one goddamn penny either. Everything they stole, make them pay it back.”

  “They will not pay it back.” The old man had done retired and lost his mind. “What you’re telling me to do is impossible.”

  “Don’t tell me what’s impossible, Kyle. I know what the fuck is impossible and this … Is. Not. Impossible.”

  “But I can’t make peace by threatening them.”

  Cesare chuckled. “I didn’t tell you to threaten them, Kyle. I simply said do not, under any circumstances, give them territory or money.”

  Kyle shook his head, stunned by his father’s words. “Then how the fuck, Cesare? How the fuck …”

  Though he didn’t complete the question, Kyle was sure his father knew what he was asking.

  Like the true asshole he was, Cesare shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, a smug smile in his eyes. “I’m not the consigliere, you are.”

  What?

  “It’s your job to protect your Don, ensure he gets the respect he deserves, Kyle.” He chuckled. “You know
if you pull this off the way I know you can, Nathan will hand you a key to the fucking City.”

  Kyle blinked. “So that’s it?” he asked, disbelieving that his father had just left him hanging. “You’re not going to give me anything?”

  Cesare gave a wave of his hand. “Trust me, son. Remember what I said, and move forward as you see fit. You will thank me for letting you do this on your own. This will be an accomplishment that you will be proud of.” He then clapped his hands once. “All right, let’s move on …”

  Kyle continued to stare silently, his jaw still slightly dropped.

  “Now, tell me what’s going on, son,” his father continued. “Sofia said you’re not sleeping well.”

  Huh? “Excuse me, Sofia said what?”

  Cesare raised his hands in surrender. “And before you go getting upset with the child for saying something, remember that Anastacia and I are her grandparents, and she wouldn’t have said anything if she weren’t worried for you.”

  What the hell was going on? Had he been betrayed … by his own daughter?

  Kyle was speechless. Literally. He didn’t know what the fuck to say.

  Sighing, his father stood up from his seat and came around the large desk, walking over to Kyle and taking the seat directly across from him.

  Kyle looked over at him, knowing what was coming. It was a fucking ambush.

  “Sofia says you’re having night terrors.”

  Noting the concern in his father’s eyes, Kyle leaned back in his seat, frustrated. He sat the transcripts in his lap, and then ran his hands through his hair. What the fuck was he going to say? The last thing he wanted to do was tell his father that he’d been dreaming about his mother. If he did, then it would open the subject up for discussion, and Kyle did not want to discuss it … at least not with his father. The man still blamed himself, and Kyle hated watching his father suffer at the memories of what he couldn’t protect him from.

  “Sofia is a five-year-old child, Pop.” He sighed, shaking his head. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

 

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