by Bethany-Kris
“Nice to meet you,” Vanna said.
Chris nodded. “Fair warning, it’s going to get loud ... it always does. And no worries, nobody is going to get offended if you forget our names tonight. There’s a lot of us.”
“Too many, sometimes,” a man—another she did recognize from the newspaper—to Chris’s right muttered.
“Marcus, my oldest brother,” Bene filled in, confirming what she already knew.
She laughed.
“I’ll remember that.”
“Eat, eat!”
The shout echoed down the table.
Bene gave her a wink.
Food it was.
• • •
“Vanna, is it?”
Vanna turned away from Marcus who had been showing her the long corridor in the mansion that was dedicated solely to portraits of the Guzzi family. Currently, she was admiring one of Cara surrounded by her boys when they were younger in a forest setting where she sat on a chair that seemed more like a throne, staring head on at the artist painting, proud as could be over the empire around her.
An army of principes.
And a queen leading them.
The woman in the picture was the same one walking toward her now. Marcus dropped Vanna’s hand that had been tucked into his elbow with a smile, but only long enough to greet his mother with a one-armed hug, and kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” he murmured.
“Grazie, mio raggazo.”
“Be nice, Ma.”
Cara laughed, winking Vanna’s way as she asked, “When am I not?”
“Never, of course.”
Marcus gave Vanna a smile and nod before he headed down the hall. Cara waited just long enough for him to disappear from the corridor before she turned to face Vanna, and the portrait behind her. Well, she stared more at the portrait than she did at Vanna, but that was okay, too. It allowed her to admire the beauty of Bene’s mother, but also the almost regal aura around her. She’d always been able to sense those things about people, but it was so much stronger in this home with these people.
“It is, right?” Cara asked.
“Pardon?”
Cara’s gaze flicked to hers. “Vanna, sweetheart.”
“Yes. Vanna Falco.”
If the last name rang a bell to the woman, she didn’t say. Then again, her attention was back on the painting on the wall. Vanna turned to stare at it, too. It really was a perfect representation of the woman, and her sons. Realistic in more ways than she could explain with careful brushstrokes that brought the people in the portrait alive.
“I’m always worried people might think this corridor is a bit pretentious, considering ...”
Vanna shook her head. “I thought it was ... well, a beautiful tribute to a legacy.”
“The legacy of a name, or a bloodline?”
“A family, actually,” Vanna murmured, “I only saw a family.”
And she did.
Standing in this corridor as Marcus explained portrait after portrait, and each Guzzi in every single frame, she heard the pride in his voice, and the love he held for his family. Ones no longer with them, and those still on earth.
It made this night, and the choices she would have to make after it, harder. Not that she would tell Cara Guzzi that, however.
“I’m glad to see you came,” Cara said.
“Why is that?”
Cara shrugged, smiling softly again. “Bene gives me a lot of things to worry about ... I would like it if one thing in his life didn’t, that’s all.”
Something like her.
Vanna met the woman’s stare—they had a conversation earlier, during the dinner. And a short one after before Bene got called away by Christopher to help with something upstairs while they had time, and an extra pair of hands on deck. However, their chats had been short, and not very deep. Not that this one was anything amazing, either, but it felt different.
Things unsaid clung to the air.
Vanna was fine with that.
“You seem familiar to me,” Cara said.
She stilled next to the woman. “Do I?”
“Somehow. It’s your face, I think. As if I’ve seen it before.”
Vanna cleared her throat. “I can’t say we’ve ever—”
“Cara, one of the shelter’s managers is getting ready to leave, and I know you like to see them out, mia bella.”
At the end of the corridor, Gian Guzzi darkened the entrance and stared down the way at his wife with fondness. Clear love. Like Cara with her son earlier. And with her other sons throughout the rest of the evening.
The Guzzis loved.
All of them.
“Sorry about that,” Cara said.
Vanna shrugged. “It’s okay. I can find Bene.”
“He’s still busy.” Gian took a couple of steps into the hallway, turning his head a bit to stare at some of the portraits as he passed. “But I can keep her company until he finds his way back to her.”
“Perfect.”
Not wanting to intrude on Gian and Cara’s moment as the two met in the middle of the corridor, the man already leaning in for a kiss from his wife, Vanna turned around. Her gaze fell on another portrait, one she had looked over previously, but now seemed to take center stage.
Featuring Gian in a chair fit to be a throne, he dominated the painting. His fingers curved around the intricately carved wooden arms of the chair, and his left ankle rested on his right knee while his head turned slightly to stare off at something that one couldn’t see in the painting. His profile, showing off the strong line of his jaw, and the curve of smirking lips reminded her of the man’s sons ... but especially Bene.
“Which one is your favorite in here, hmm?”
Vanna’s heart stopped.
She swore it did.
“Sorry,” Gian said, chuckling as he came to stand beside her. “Didn’t mean to startle you, Vanna.”
She didn’t bother to lie and say he hadn’t. “It’s okay ... and I’m not sure.”
“On your favorite, you mean?”
“Well, that’s a lie. I like the one with your wife and sons.”
“Ah.” Gian turned a bit, eyeing the portrait three spaces down where it proudly rested for everyone to admire. “My favorite, too.”
“Really, not all the ones or any of the ones that you’re featured?”
Gian chuckled, his handsome features softening as he turned to meet her gaze. “Not at all ... see, I love my wife more than anything in the world. She’s an angel and I am only a well-dressed sinner standing next to her. And since this,” he said, waving at the hall and his home, “was the world she gave me, it only seems appropriate that I make sure everything in it revolves around her. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, but Cara wasn’t one of them.”
Truth.
That’s what stared back at her.
Guilt.
It’s what killed her.
Vanna saw a man who loved his family.
She heard another man in her mind.
A vendetta.
Her promise.
The war raged on.
A silent battle.
Vanna was losing.
Or was that her heart?
She didn’t know anymore.
13.
Bene figured Vanna wouldn’t be in the kitchen of the mansion, but since he was passing it on his way back to the dining room and grand entrance his parents were using for the dinner party, he decided to check just in case. When he’d left her earlier to help Christopher move something upstairs from one room to the other, because their mother refused to allow Gian to lift a finger, Marcus had been giving her a tour of the downstairs.
As though he didn’t already know she’d been here before.
Funny thing was, the weekend she spent with Bene here hadn’t given Vanna much insight to the mansion, or the history within it. He had been far more interested in getting her back flat to any surface that he could, and enjoying it, rather than giving her a g
rand tour. She hadn’t seemed to mind, so ...
Unsurprisingly, Bene found the kitchen to be organized chaos. Not unusual when his parents threw a decent-sized dinner party like the one tonight. The catering company his mother favored—one that had no problem with signing nondisclosure agreements and regularly having their staff checked when inside the mansion—moved all over the space, passing each other like ships in a very crowded harbor.
And yet, they didn’t bump into one another. Hands tossed high in response to the orders the head chef threw out to her people, and there in the middle of it all was his mother, helping right along to keep everything on track, and making sure everyone knew what they had to do or go to next for the evening.
“We need those bottles of champagne ready, Kassie,” Cara told the head chef.
“Working on it, ma’am.”
“Thank you. Oh.”
His mother’s gaze fell on him in the doorway, and while Bene had a good mind to slip out of the space, and let her get back to work, he didn’t. Instead, he smiled when she grinned his way, and moved toward him.
“Did you get that done upstairs?”
“All moved,” he assured.
“It looks better in the hallway, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Makes sense to put the cabinet there, sure.”
“Because it looks nicer.”
Bene laughed, knowing better than to argue with his mother over something like decorating. Sure, she had a whole team that regularly came in to decorate her spaces, but they always worked with her to do it. She had an eye for that sort of thing, and frankly, Bene had very little interest in it. He was fine to just do what he was told in that case.
Cara reached up to stroke his cheek with her soft fingertips. The same action she used to do to him when he was a child, and she wanted him to know she was giving him special attention even when the room was full of his brothers. Her fingers would drift over the side of his face, up into his hair, and then she’d give him a little smile from the side. She didn’t do it nearly as much as she used to when he was little, but it still reminded him of that every single time.
Her soft smile had him reflecting the same thing back.
“Looking for her, are you?” his mother asked.
As though she just knew.
Bene tried to play it off with a, “Well, I was going back to the party, but—”
“Yes, you were looking for her.”
“Do you like her?”
Cara lifted her brows, as though she was actually contemplating his question. And just as fast, she let out a light laugh. “I see how much you like her, that’s for sure.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re happy. A lot happier than you have been, yes?”
For a moment, he forgot that he was standing just beyond the kitchen entry. A room full of other people who could undoubtedly hear their conversation just fine. In that second, it was simply him, and his mother.
He could always be honest with his ma.
It was the love she fostered for them.
“She helped a bit with that,” he admitted, “but I just needed some time to figure things out on my own about shit, too.”
Cara rolled her eyes at his choice in language. “She makes you smile.”
“Does she?”
He wouldn’t notice.
It always felt like he was smiling with Vanna.
“Often,” Cara murmured, stroking his cheek again. “And if she does that for you, then I like her very much, Bene. I think that’s what counts.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Is she that kind of girl, then?”
“What kind?”
Cara winked. “The kind you could fall in love with—is she?”
Bene dragged in a quick breath, surprised at the answer that seemed ready at the tip of his tongue. His heart beat harder in his chest, moments of his time with Vanna flashing through his mind as other images—things that could happen, things he wanted to see happen—followed right behind. He wasn’t expecting that, and his silence echoing after his mother asked the question only seemed to have her grinning as though she already knew his answer.
“Bene?”
He let out the air he’d been holding in as he told her, “Yeah, I think she’s exactly that kind of girl for me, Ma.”
Cara nodded. “Go and find her, then.”
He didn’t need to be told a second time, but he made sure to give his mother a hug, lingering with her for another moment, before he headed out of the kitchen. Only one thing, or rather, person, was on his mind, too.
Vanna.
• • •
Bene found Vanna easily enough in the grand entrance of the mansion, and he was glad to see she had stuck with his brothers. Not that any of the other guests at the dinner party would do anything to make a problem, but he didn’t know them that well, either. However, if his mother cared enough to invite them for this thing to support the shelter, then they were probably decent.
Probably.
Didn’t mean he cared to find out.
Instead of crossing the room to join Vanna and his brothers with the rest of the party guests, he stayed back near the mouth of the hallway leading further into the mansion to enjoy the view. It was almost as though she fit right in with the rest of them, laughing at whatever Marcus said to Christopher, and quick to bend down to speak to little Maria when the girl tugged on the side of her dress.
She looked happy.
Carefree, even.
And he wanted to appreciate it.
Bene was about to join her and his brothers when the sight of someone else standing across the entry had him grinning for a whole new reason.
Beni.
His twin stood near the front doors with his wife at his side, already passing off his jacket and August’s to the woman handling that at the front. His parents didn’t keep servants in the house often, but for parties and other events, they came to help. A team of maids came throughout the week to keep the large house spotless as well, although his mother was always quick to throw on old clothes and get down to business for that, too.
Knowing Vanna was okay for the moment, Bene left his hiding spot and crossed the room to greet his twin. As though he could feel his brother coming his way—he probably did what with their crazy, nonsensical intuition about each other—Beni lifted his head with a smile, his gaze already landing on Bene moving toward him.
“You didn’t think to let me know you were coming?” he asked.
Beni shrugged, drawing his wife closer to his side. “Dad said he had a surprise for Ma this weekend, and asked if we could come to join in. I guess Corrado got called to Vegas last minute for something, and the baby has an ear infection, so Les and Ginevra didn’t want to fly.”
Ah.
That explained why they weren’t there, too, then.
Although, he never thought to ask.
With his other brother living in New York with his two spouses and their baby girl, they didn’t get to see him nearly as much as they liked. But if he was being fair, sometimes that was okay with Corrado ... because the man had his moods.
He was joking.
Mostly.
“Didn’t even see you come in until you were already inside,” Bene said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. Then, he leaned in to give a smiling August a kiss on her cheek, too. “And good to see you—you’re looking good. Keeping him in fucking line, right?”
A softness lit up August’s gaze, as though she could just tell that Bene was doing better, and while she wouldn’t say it out loud, she still recognized it for what it was. He appreciated that, and her. She was great for his brother, no doubt about it.
“Someone has to,” she replied, “because God knows if we left it up to the two of you, well ... nothing good comes from that, huh?”
Beni laughed. “Come on, now, we’re not that—”
“You’re terrible. Both of you.”
“Worse together,�
� Bene added.
“Don’t take her side, man.”
Bene shrugged.
Because where was the lie, though?
Beni sighed, giving his brother a cocked eyebrow before his gaze drifted across the room. “And hey, maybe you didn’t notice us come in because you were distracted by staring at someone else, yeah?”
He didn’t even need to look the same way Beni did to know who he was staring at. Vanna with their other brothers at the party.
“That her?”
“How do you know?” Bene asked. “She could just be some chick—”
“Dad said you were bringing her. You described her well enough.”
“And you did stare at her in a room full of a whole bunch of other people, Bene,” August added.
“You told her?”
Beni smirked. “I tell my wife everything.”
Of course, he did.
August winked.
“Okay, so yeah ... that’s her,” he murmured.
“Well done—she’s hot.”
He gave August a look.
She shrugged, saying, “Beni can’t say it without losing his chance to get ass tonight, and all, so I figured I would do it for him.”
Bene barked out a laugh.
Yep.
Perfect for his brother.
“That’s enough of—”
Before his twin could finish his statement, applause lit up the room. Bene spun on his heels to watch his father, with help from the men from their famiglia who kept an eye on the house during parties like these, push a large something to the middle of the grand entry. Right under the tall chandelier hanging between the two staircases.
Covered with a beige sheet, rectangular in shape, and at least ten feet tall and wide, they had it sitting on a rolling platform dolly to move it while the men held it on both ends to keep it steady.
“Is that the surprise Dad has for Ma?” Bene asked.
“Think so,” Beni responded.
“What is this?” his mother asked, moving closer.
“A surprise—or an updated edition, rather,” his father replied.
Cara beamed.
His father grinned. “You ready?”
“I would love to know where you hid it.”
“I have my ways.”
“Show me, Gian.”
That was all his father needed before he pulled the sheet away from the item, letting the fabric fall to a heap on the floor in front of a beautiful painting. A portrait that looked familiar in the way that the woman sitting on her throne in a forest surrounded by trees was the very same as the one as the one in the corridor that dominated the space compared to the others of their family. Only this one was different—now, all his brothers were older, young men or near to their current ages—but their mother stayed the same.