by Dana Delamar
“Never mind. The more important question is: when were you planning to do it?” Dario asked.
“I wasn’t. I only said yes because he threatened me with his guard, Eusebio. You did hear that part?”
Dario crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“What proof did I have? I figured he’d just deny it, and you’d kill me. I wasn’t exactly in your good graces then.”
“And you certainly aren’t now.”
“Listen. Why would I do it? You have my grandparents in your sights. If I killed you, Cris would certainly kill them. It doesn’t make sense for me to take that kind of risk.”
“You might do it to save your own skin.”
“How would killing you save me?”
“If I’m dead, that solves a lot of problems for you.”
“Does it? If I kill you, then I’d be betraying Cris and my vow. Everyone would hunt me down. I’d be dead myself.”
Cris rose from where he’d been perched on the windowsill. “He does have a point. Several of them. And then there’s the other recording.”
“What other recording?”
Delfina clicked the mouse and Nick heard Benedetto’s voice and an inaudible one that he didn’t recognize. A Russian accent heavily flavored the second speaker’s English. When Benedetto referred to the man as “Ilya” and then mentioned Ilya getting his vengeance, a chill spread through Nick. Ilya as in Ilya Vilanovich. Father to Yuri and Gregor, the men he’d killed. He listened to Benedetto say that Ilya would soon be able to avenge his sons, and he recommended they take Dario too. Then curiously, Benedetto mentioned Nick’s father and specified that he be spared. Why? Did this have something to do with the offer his father said Benedetto had made to him?
When the recording ended, Nick latched onto the thing he thought exonerated him. “Benedetto wants me dead—or at least he’s willing to let Vilanovich kill me. That proves I’m not conspiring with him. And this isn’t the first time Ilya’s tried. Maybe Benedetto had a hand in that too.”
“All that really proves,” Dario said, “is that Ilya is more important to him.”
“I took vows to this family. I made a promise to your son. I’m marrying your daughter. I have no reason to cross you.”
“What did you do today?”
The back of Nick’s shirt went damp. Stay calm. “I went to a church. And I visited my father. And I bought a few gifts for Delfi.”
“If you’re lying, we’ll know.”
“I’m not.”
Dario turned to Cris. “Check the records.”
“What records?” Nick asked, even though he knew.
“There’s a GPS tracker on your car,” Dario said.
“Tracking me through my phone wasn’t enough?”
“A phone is easier to shed than a car,” Cris said. He nudged Delfina aside and clicked the mouse several times. Nick met her gaze. She still looked hurt. Why? Did she actually believe what he’d said to Benedetto about not wanting her?
Cris glanced up at Nick and Dario. “The GPS confirms his story. And he did call me. Twice.”
Dario pursed his lips, then he said, “Find out what he said while in the car.”
Fuck! He should’ve known the car was bugged. Adrenaline dumped into his system, urging him to run, but that was pointless. He’d never get past Flavio.
Cris clicked the mouse a few more times, then Nick’s voice flowed out of the speakers. Thank God he hadn’t called Fuente in the car. But he should’ve called his father from the mobile they’d given him. As long as they didn’t think to double-check its call log, he’d be okay.
When the recording ended, Cris said, “There’s another.”
“Play it,” Dario said. Nick’s voice again and Antonio’s, a bit muffled. Shit. Delfina shouldn’t be hearing this. What he’d said wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t a ringing endorsement of his feelings either. He reached for the ring in his pocket to show her, and Dario put up a hand. “Don’t move.”
“I wasn’t going for my gun.”
Dario motioned for Flavio. “Search him.”
His heart pounded as Flavio patted him down. Maybe he’d miss the second phone.
Flavio removed Nick’s Beretta, the switchblade, the mobile from Cris, and the ring box. So far, so good. Then he patted Nick’s chest and found the lump of the other phone. He pulled it out and held it up for everyone to see. “This doesn’t look like one of ours,” he said.
Nick tried to slow his breathing as Flavio handed the phone to Dario. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Dario turned the phone on, pressing buttons as Nick’s mind raced. The texts. The phone itself was bad enough. But once they saw those, they’d know he’d lied. Why hadn’t he erased them?
After a few moments, Dario’s face darkened. “I should have known not to trust a Lucchesi.”
“What is it?” Cris asked.
“A text from his father. Nick has known his grandparents have been safe for nearly a week. He found out a few hours after Cris was shot.” Dario’s eyes bored into Nick. “Which makes you a lying snake.”
“Listen, I could’ve walked away at any time once I knew that. But I didn’t. I stayed and I made my deal. And I certainly didn’t shoot you.”
“All true. But you lied. Which means you’re hiding something. Benedetto asked you to spy on us, didn’t he? Or did your father?”
“Neither. I’m not spying on anyone. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Yes, you are.” Delfina spoke for the first time. “You’re trying to put them all in jail. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you stayed. That’s why you joined the ‘Ndrangheta.” Her voice was dry, flinty, and cold as frostbite.
The chill in her tone infected him, moving through him with a shudder. Christ, with that little revelation, he was done for. Even Delfina had lost faith in him. Not even the redoubtable Enrico Lucchesi, as Fuente had dubbed him, could save him now.
He tried one more time. “You don’t have the full story on any of this. You need to listen to all the recordings—then you’ll see that Benedetto is a master of pulling strings and telling lies.”
Dario laughed. “You think I don’t know that? He makes you a rank amateur.”
None of this was going right. None of it. He tried to get Delfina’s attention, but she stared right through him. He motioned to the ring box. “May I?” he asked Dario.
Dario shook his head. “Cris.”
Cris picked the box up and opened it, barely glancing inside before shutting it. “It’s a ring,” he said, his voice sounding flat, hollow.
“It’s for Delfina. My father gave it to me. I had planned to propose at the party, but after what happened to her today, I was going to do it tonight instead.” Nick spoke to her, but she looked away. When she finally turned back, her eyes were swimming. God help him. He loved her. He truly did. And now she’d never believe it. “Delfi, I swear to you—”
Delfina jumped up and ran out of the room. Cris set the ring box on the desk.
She hates me. Nick slumped into a chair and bowed his head, clasping his hands on the back of his neck. He hardly gave a damn if he lived or died at this point. They’d both probably be the same. Hell, either way. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to no one in particular.
Cris slammed his fist onto Dario’s desk, making everything on it jump and rattle. “Sorry? You’re sorry? I trusted you. I put my faith in you. I put the faith of our cosca in you. And this is how you repay me. I thought you were trying to save my life that night. But all you cared about was saving your own!”
“If all I’d cared about was myself, I’d have run and let them kill you.”
“You are no brother of mine.”
Nick studied the carpet. “You will always be mine.”
Cris picked up Nick’s switchblade and clicked it open. “I ought to slit your throat with this and cut out your tongue for all your lies.”
Nick looked up at him. “Then do it. If I’ve lost you and Delfina”—his voice broke on her name�
��“I haven’t much left.”
Some of the heat ebbed from Cris’s eyes. He closed the knife and tossed it on the desk. No one said anything for several moments. Finally Dario broke the silence. “As far as I can tell, Benedetto and Ilya are going to attack at the engagement party.”
“But it could be at the wedding. Or another event. Maybe the rehearsal dinner,” Cris said.
“Have you reviewed the rest of the recordings?” Nick asked.
“There are hundreds of them.”
“I know some shortcuts. We could use keyword searches—”
Dario brushed his words away with an upraised hand. “Not enough time. Besides, the only event Benedetto knows the date of is the engagement party. Logic says that’s the date.”
“How familiar is he with your security?” Nick asked.
“Moderately.”
“You should change all the entry codes, all your normal routines.”
Dario glared at him. “How nice of you to be so helpful now.”
“Listen, my interests haven’t always aligned with yours, but when it comes to Delfina and Cris, we’re on the same side.”
“Behave yourself at the party, and perhaps I will still have a use for you.”
“I’d rather not give Nick a chance to fuck things up for us tomorrow,” Cris said, each word a punch to Nick’s gut.
Dario smirked. “Turning on your blood brother so soon? You always were one to abandon your toys.”
When Cris said nothing, Dario added, “I don’t want Benedetto to know we’re onto him. I’m putting you in charge of watching Nick.” Cris nodded, his face flushed and unhappy. “And collect your sister’s phone. I don’t want her having a change of heart and calling Lucchesi.”
Cris nodded again. He handed Nick the ring box. “You’ll need this. But not the rest.” He left the room, beckoning Nick to follow him.
Nick dreaded being alone with Cris. What could he possibly say?
But Cris said nothing as they tromped upstairs to Nick’s bedroom. Just as Cris was about to go, Nick stopped him. “I know you don’t believe me, but I never meant to betray you.”
“I gave you my trust. I’ll never be that foolish again.” Cris wheeled about and left, slamming the door, then locking it.
Nick’s throat clamped shut. When he’d lost his mother, he’d thought he’d lost everything.
How wrong he’d been.
CHAPTER 22
How many tears could one person cry? Delfina blew her nose again and wiped her eyes, but the tears kept coming. Nick Clarkston was a consummate liar. He’d never truly cared for her. Only for himself. She flopped down on her bed and called Gio, who answered on the second ring. “Ciao, bella! Ready for the big day tomorrow?” Gio asked.
Delfina burst into tears again. Dio mio, she had to go through with that charade too and somehow make it look real.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Gio asked, the levity leaving her voice. “Did something happen?”
Delfina gulped down air and tried to steady her voice. “Can you come over? Now?”
“Of course. I’ll be there in a flash. Should I plan to stay overnight?”
“Would you?”
“It’ll be just like when we were girls.”
Delfina tried to smile. “Mille grazie, Gio. You’re the best friend ever.”
“Any time, sweetie. How often have I been the one crying on your shoulder?”
After they hung up, Delfina heard Cris and Nick come upstairs and Cris lock Nick in his room. Of course her father would make Cris Nick’s jailer. Always he had to stick the knife in deeper. It was bad enough that she’d had to hear those recordings once, but by the time Nick had arrived, she’d already heard them three times. And her father had insisted she stay to face her fiancé.
How could Nick listen to what he’d said without reacting? Not even a wince at those callous words. “I’ve had her. I don’t do relationships.” And then what he’d said to Antonio. It could’ve been worse, but it was clear he didn’t love her. “I’ll do right by her.” That was all she merited. His pity. Not his love.
But hadn’t she already known that? He’d never said he loved her, not even when she had. She’d been a fool of monumental proportions to believe that he felt it, even if he couldn’t say it.
Someone knocked at the door. It was too early for Gio, who’d be at least a half hour, provided she didn’t try on four different outfits and twice as many pairs of shoes before coming over. “Go away,” she yelled.
“Delfi, it’s me.” Cris.
He had to be nearly as devastated as she was. “Come in.”
“Papà says I need to collect your phone.” He held out his hand for it.
“He thinks I haven’t received the message?”
Cris reddened. “We all know by now you’ve got a soft spot for Zio Enrico.”
“I’ve had my fill of the Lucchesi family.” She picked up her phone and tossed it to him. “Papà has nothing to worry about.”
Cris put the phone in his pocket. “I’m sorry, Delfi.” The tenderness in his voice called forth her tears again.
She turned her head away and wiped at them. The mattress dipped beneath her and then Cris took her in his arms. Her chest heaved and sobs tore out of her throat as she clung to her brother. He stroked her hair and upper back, murmuring that everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be okay ever.
Nick had been her one hope to escape this life. And even when he’d joined the ‘Ndrangheta, she’d at least thought that he loved her. That he cherished her and would do his best to make a happy life with her. But she’d been dreaming again. When was she ever going to grow up and face reality?
All she’d been to him was another figa. A girl he’d “had.” A girl who didn’t merit more than his pity. Hadn’t he been telling her she was beneath him? All that stuff about her being corrupted and warped. But she’d ignored it when she should have known better. She was tainted in his eyes. Always had been, always would be.
Cris kissed her hair. “Delfi, per favore, stop crying.”
She took a deep breath and tried to stifle her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“He fooled all of us. I truly thought he cared for you.” He smoothed the hair off her forehead. “After all, he didn’t have to try to help me get you out of the engagement.”
“I know. That’s what I don’t get.”
Cris shrugged. “Maybe he thought it was a good way to earn my trust.”
“Maybe.” But he’d really seemed to care. He hadn’t wanted Leandro to hurt her. His defense of her had seemed utterly sincere. Was he that amazing of an actor? “What if we’re wrong about him, Cris?”
He studied her face, his soft brown eyes holding hers. “I wish we were. But you heard it.”
“I can’t help thinking—” She stopped herself and shook her head. She was being stupid. “I never thought I could be taken in like that.”
“Me neither.” He ruffled her hair. “Better?”
She smiled. “I will be. Gio’s coming over. We’ll make pigs of ourselves on gelato and talk about how all men are dogs. Except you, of course.”
Cris averted his gaze. “Is that her opinion of me, or yours?”
“So you really are going to try?”
He lifted his hands and shrugged. “It’s hopeless. Her father will never agree to it after the fiasco with you and Leandro.”
“You never know.” She bit the inside of her lip. “I hope I haven’t ruined things for you two.”
“Well, if you hadn’t broken off with Leandro, there’d be no chance, so don’t feel bad.”
Someone knocked at the door. Or rather tapped a handful of nails on it. Gio. “Come in!” Delfina called.
Gio bustled in, two large Fendi suitcases trailing behind her. “What’s all that?” Cris asked.
She pointed to one then the other. “Clothing and shoes. I didn’t want poor Delfi to suffer all alone any longer than necessary.”
Delfina laughed. “Gio, I know what a sacrifice that was. You are the best friend a girl could ever have.”
Simpering and batting her fake lashes, Gio said, “I try.” She shooed Cris off the bed. “I know you’ve been trying to help, darling,” she said to him, “but some things are best handled by a woman. Heartbreak is one of them.”
Cris rose and scrubbed a hand through his brown curls. “I thought I was doing pretty good.”
“You were,” Delfina said. “But Gio’s right.”
Cris turned to go, then paused awkwardly. “Gio, I need your phone.”
Gio’s eyebrows popped up under the brown and blonde tresses that tumbled over her forehead. “Are you kidding me, Cristoforo Andretti? This phone is my lifeline. I’m not giving it up for anyone. Not even you, as adorable as you are.”
He blushed. “Gio—”
Delfina came to his rescue. “Cris, Papà said to take mine. I think you can trust Gio to babysit me. Besides, all my numbers are on my phone. Who am I going to call on hers? Leandro?”
“Okay.” He pointed at Gio. “Take care of her.”
Gio crossed her heart. “Will do. As long as you promise to hang out with me tomorrow.”
“If that’s what you want.”
She batted her lashes again and smiled. “That’s not all I want.”
“And that’s my cue to go.” He turned and shut the door behind him.
Gio plopped down on the bed beside her and fanned herself. “Is it just me, or is your brother hot?”
Delfina giggled. “It’s just you.”
“Well, it would be horribly wrong if you thought he was hot too.”
Delfina laughed harder. Only Gio could turn her from tears to laughter so quickly.
Leaning back on her elbows, Gio kicked her feet up in the air, showing off her new sandals and her pedicure. “You like?”
“Fuchsia isn’t exactly subtle.”
“I wasn’t going for subtle. Have I ever?”
Delfina nudged Gio with her shoulder. “Don’t ever change.”
“No fear of that.” Gio let out a sigh. “Okay we’re going to have a serious moment. What’s going on?”
Delfina filled her in, impressed that she teared up only three times while telling the story. “The thing is, I still can hardly believe it.”