by Bethany-Kris
Mario.
She sucked in a breath, the clutch dropping from her hand as he tipped his head to the side when their gazes met. There was no hiding the way his stare took her in—from the dress she wore, to the heels that were currently killing her feet. His scowl deepened when he took in her messy makeup, and ruined hair.
Shit.
It wasn’t that she forgot about him.
Quite the opposite.
Vanna simply figured this would be like every other time that she blew Mario off in the past. It wasn’t like this was the first time she was supposed to meet up with him, but instead, fucked off somewhere and came back later. He’d be pissed, sure, but he got over it.
Because he didn’t own her.
Except now he does.
The ring in her clutch that she took off to attend the party with Bene said so.
“I will give you exactly twenty seconds to tell me where you were,” Mario murmured.
“I—”
“No lies. I already know. Start speaking the truth.”
What?
He couldn’t possibly know.
“Out,” she said.
Mario’s jaw tightened. “Don’t fuck with me tonight, Vanna. Do you know how long I’ve been here waiting for you to get back from being with that fucking scum—that goddamn Guzzi?”
Her eyes widened.
He sneered. “Oh, you didn’t think I knew? The bitch downstairs at the front desk—she calls me whenever someone comes around here. Your fucktoy was just stupid enough to give her his name when he came around.”
“Mario—”
“The truth.”
Jesus.
“What does it matter?” she asked.
That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because the very second the words left her lips, Mario pushed away from the wall he was using as a leaning post, and came flying her way. She didn’t even have time to react before he was at the end of the hallway, and Vanna found herself shoved against the door with a bang.
Unlike earlier, with another man who shoved her against a door to kiss her like his life depended on his need to have his mouth on hers, she didn’t like this. At all. Mario’s hand found her throat, partially covering her jaw as he forced her head back, crowded his body along hers, and made her stare up at him.
That fire in his eyes ...
The hate ...
Sure, she saw it before.
Never toward her.
Not like this.
She didn’t give a single fuck that he was feeling some kind of way about the things he knew she had been doing. She felt zero shame about the fact she’d been fucking someone else while she was intended for him because she never wanted him in the first goddamn place, and told him exactly that more than once.
However, the sight did startle her.
It made her pause.
His grip on her face tightened to a painful point, surely leaving bruises behind while his fingers dug into her jaw, He shook her face, and tears sprung to her eyes. A reaction from the pain, but she refused to let him see the fear he caused.
She wasn’t that weak.
“See, I thought you were fucking someone else,” he said, leaning down close enough that his lips nearly brushed hers. If he kissed her, he better be ready for her to spit, or bite him because she would not be playing this game with him. “But I figured it was like the other times you acted like a whore for a man—some prick was pretty enough to make you spread your legs for him, and you were just smart enough to keep him out of my sight this time, huh?”
“I was never yours, Mario.”
She felt the ache spreading in her jaw when he grabbed even harder a second before he pulled her head away from the wall, and then slammed it back against it. God. Did that crack her skull? With the stars in her eyes now, it was very possible.
Vanna shut the fuck up.
Before he killed her.
“And look what I found,” he ground out through clenched teeth, the vein in his forehead starting to pop out from his rage, “you’re not fucking just anybody. No, you’re spreading your legs for a Guzzi. Jesus, you won’t even fuck me, but you’ll lay down with that piece of shit, Vanna? What kind of woman are you?”
“One you don’t deserve.”
For a second, his grip loosened.
Then, it came back harder than ever.
He kept their gazes locked on one another, not that she had any other choice given the way he was holding her head up. The silence stretched on between them, giving her ample time to watch the rage of violent emotions wash over his features, but unsurprisingly, he was the first to speak again. Not that she cared because she had nothing to say to him.
She never would.
“But who fucking has you, huh?”
Vanna swallowed hard. “Fuck you.”
“Yeah,” he added, chuckling sardonically, “because that’s the truth, isn’t it? Doesn’t matter what you do now, girl, you’re still going to end up with me for the rest of your life whether you like it or not. And I have waited far too long to give up now.”
“I’ll never be yours. Ever.”
He needed to know that.
She had to say it.
It should be clear.
“But you are. And you didn’t get a say about it.”
She shook her head, as much as she could manage in her current predicament with the tears streaming down her cheeks. It was getting harder to breathe now, too, but he didn’t show any sign of letting her go.
“Not like that,” she whispered painfully, “not like he has me.”
Mario shoved her harder against the wall, starting to say, “I—”
“I’ll never love you—I love him.”
“Fucking bitch.”
His words were punctuated by him shoving her against the wall, then he let her go, and slammed his hands to either side of her head. Vanna sucked in a deep breath before he stepped back altogether, fists clenched down at his sides while he stared her down with enough contempt to burn her from the inside out.
If only she cared ...
He pointed a finger at her. “You will not fuck up what I have worked for all these years—do not make me look like a fool to the clan, and my father, or I will be the one who chokes the fucking life out of you, and I will enjoy doing it, too. Go near the Guzzi bastard again, Vanna, and that’s it. You’re done—you hear me? I will kill him, and you.”
He would.
She knew it.
“Do you hear me?”
She nodded. “I hear you.”
“Things will be changing soon. Understand that. You’ve lost the right to have your life the way you wanted it, and you’ve got nobody to blame but yourself for it, too. Try to fight me from here on out, and everyone will know what you’ve been doing. I’ll let you live just long enough for you to suffer for the whore you are before I kill you. Be ready—a truck will be here tomorrow to move your shit out. This is over.”
He didn’t give her time to respond before he was leaving. Vanna slid down the wall, her backside meeting the floor while her palms dug into her eyes to press the tears away, as the door slammed shut.
It felt appropriate.
An end.
The coffin closing.
This was her life.
Mario was right, though.
She did this.
• • •
Vanna’s life in the week after coming home to find Mario waiting in her penthouse became a series of her doing only what she had to. Wake up, get dressed, go to school, and come back to a home that wasn’t hers but where she now had to live. It felt like she had walked straight into a fog with no way out.
But at least like this, she didn’t feel as much.
It didn’t hurt as much.
She stayed in that hazy bubble, content to let it drag her under until it swallowed her whole and drowned out everything else. At this point, feeling and being nothing was better than the alternative option.
Maybe tha
t was why she hadn’t expected the detective to be waiting right outside the last class of the day at her college, if only because the fact that she completely ignored his calls should have been more than enough of a hint to him.
Or not.
“Miss Falco,” he greeted.
Not unkindly.
Still, a tension lingered in his voice.
Vanna’s eyes flew wide, and students blew past her in the hallway as she came face to face with the man. For a brief second, she swung back and forth, checking the hallway to make sure the man who regularly followed her now wasn’t standing anywhere nearby. Jacob Keefs seemed to understand exactly what she was doing.
“He’s currently standing on the front steps waiting for you to leave.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Then, you should know how dangerous this is.”
“What choice did you give me? You ignore my calls, my messages, and my texts. You haven’t sent anything for me to use on the Guzzis when I know you were inside the mansion again just last weekend. What am I to think?”
“That something happened.”
“And here I am to find out what that is.”
Vanna steeled her spine, needing this thing with the detective to be over now. She didn’t have a choice because of Mario, but even if she did, she no longer wanted to play this game. She certainly hadn’t given him enough information to really hurt the Guzzis, but it was probably enough to begin the damage.
And wasn’t that enough?
That alone killed her.
“I have nothing else for you, and my connection to the Guzzi family is dead.”
The man smiled tightly. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Or ... is it something else?”
Vanna frowned. “What?”
“You were getting very ... close to the young Guzzi man, weren’t you? Did you get in your feelings, start getting a conscience about it all, or what? Do you think you’re going to become the next Guzzi queen of that family if the man takes enough of a liking to you?”
She blinked.
And just as quickly, recovered.
“No,” she snapped, “and again, I have nothing. I will no longer be helping you, or whatever investigation you have started on the family.”
That wasn’t the answer he wanted.
Rage dotted his cheeks red.
Taking one step toward her, the detective narrowed his eyes as he said, “You think it’s only the Guzzis who could be hurt here, Vanna? What about you, hmm? The Dettis—they took you in, didn’t they? You think I don’t know what they do for business? What are the chances that something in their dealings will tie to you, and you’ll suffer for it, too? How do you think jail will suit you?”
Fuck him.
She tipped her chin up. “Is that a threat?”
“Does it need to be?”
No.
She wouldn’t play this game.
Not with this man.
Or another.
Ever.
“You know,” she murmured, “my father kept recordings ... and he journaled. Every single little thing about this life, all of it. I don’t know if it was because he never wanted to forget, or because he wanted me to have something to go back to, but I know all about you, Mr. Keefs. I know the dirty deals you used to do with my dad, and how you helped him out a time or two. Oh, and I know how he helped you, too. The loans—guess your wife blew through money like it was fucking candy. What was that, to make up for the fact you were too focused on a career that was going nowhere instead of being home to warm her bed like she wanted, or something else?”
He took another step.
Vanna held firm. “I know all that, and more. Threaten me again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever fucking do, I promise you that, sir.”
He sneered.
She smiled.
“You fell for their trap, it’s all over your face,” he muttered, looking as though she disgusted him just by being in her presence. “That’s what the Guzzis do. They dazzle you with their wealth, promise it can be yours, too, and then when you’re in their web ... they drain you dry. You’re just another weak little girl who can’t measure up to them, but sure you were going to do your best and try to make it work, huh? It doesn’t matter if you won’t continue to help my investigation—I have enough to move forward from here, anyway. Thanks for that, couldn’t have done it without you.”
What did that mean?
What did that fucking mean?
She didn’t get the chance to ask before he spun on the heels of his cheap loafers that still squeaked when he walked, and left her standing in the hallway.
It was empty now.
A lot like her.
Completely empty.
15.
Two fucking weeks.
Two weeks with no calls, texts, or otherwise from Vanna. Bene woke up alone the morning after his mother’s dinner party, and it pissed him off. Not because Vanna had left like that, but because it didn’t make sense. Never mind the strange conversation his twin apparently had with the woman at three in the morning when Beni caught her sneaking out of the house like she was running from something.
What was she running from?
That was the better question.
Bene had no clue, but his pride was just enough for him to wait her out, or that’s what he thought he was doing. He figured, whatever shit had happened that sent her running like that, she would work through it, and come back eventually.
Right?
Weren’t they working on something together?
Doing something?
Being something?
God.
He thought so.
So yeah, he gave her two weeks. Fucked around with his anger and stupid pride about not going to her first when she kept refusing to answer his texts and calls. Then, he decided to suck it up and do what he had to do to see her. It was all about making the first step, or that’s what other people told him. Besides, maybe she had a good reason for running off like she did. Not that he would know that unless he went and spoke to her.
Which was why he was currently parked in front of her downtown building, sitting in the front seat of his Lambo, while arguing with his oldest brother. He had a million other things he would rather be doing, including getting inside that building to see Vanna, but one thing at a time. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and all that good shit.
“Where are you?” Marcus demanded.
“In the city.”
“Right now?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Bene, there’s a meeting at the mansion today. For everyone.”
Right, everyone that was made.
Bene hadn’t known about that until thirty minutes ago, however, and he had already been on his way to Vanna’s penthouse, and he wasn’t turning around just because his father decided to make all his men run in circles for him.
Okay, now he was crossing lines.
He fixed his thoughts, and put his attention back on his brother on the other end of the call. “Listen, I am on my way, Marcus.”
“You’re already late.”
“Yeah, well—”
“Yeah, well, fucking nothing,” Marcus snapped. “Get on the goddamn highway, pull thirty over the limit if you have to, and don’t make the boss wait another second longer, Bene. Do you hear me?”
Of course, he did.
Didn’t mean he would listen.
Bene straightened up, sure.
He could still bend the rules.
Just a little.
“You were doing good, you know?” Marcus sighed loudly. “What happened?”
That woman.
All of her.
Instead of saying that, Bene replied, “I’m on my way.”
He hung up the phone before his brother had a chance to respond which was just fine with him. Marcus would keep repeating the same shit, and Bene had nothing new to say. What was done was done—he’d work on fixing it later.
; Simple as that.
Knowing he didn’t have much time to fuck around, Bene left the Lambo running on the side of the street—risking a ticket, no doubt—as he headed into Vanna’s building. The same as the last time he visited, he headed to the front desk first, ready to charm the woman waiting there with a smile on her face to get upstairs through the private elevator.
A new woman, actually.
She wasn’t the same as the one from before.
What happened to her?
“Vanna home?” he asked, grinning. “In the penthouse, I mean.”
Instantly, the woman’s smile drifted away. “Sorry, no.”
“So, she’s not home or she doesn’t want anyone up there?”
“No, she no longer lives here, sir.”
Bene blinked.
What?
“I’m sorry?”
“The remainder of Miss Falco’s things were moved from her penthouse last week, and the building has been made aware that a realtor will take over the sale of the property. Excuse me, but are you a friend or—”
What did that matter?
She wasn’t here.
Where the fuck are you, Vanna?
“I have to go,” he said, turning away from the front desk to make a beeline for the door. He didn’t have time to stand around and have a conversation with someone who either didn’t have the information he needed, or simply wouldn’t give it to him. Throwing a hand over his shoulder at the woman’s call to him, he added, “But thanks.”
For nothing.
Bene’s mind was still running a million miles a minute as he headed out of the building. Jumping into the still-running Lambo, he was happy to find that he hadn’t managed to get a ticket stuck under the car’s wiper, but that was likely only because he hadn’t been inside for very long. It was the one good thing about this day.
The rest of it was just shit.
Where was Vanna?
That’s what he kept asking as he raced out of the city limits.
Where are you?
• • •
Bene expected to find Marcus waiting for him when he arrived at the mansion—best case scenario, really. He figured his oldest brother would be at the ready to rip him a new asshole for being way too late to a famiglia meeting with the boss. Worst case? He thought maybe the meeting would be over, and his father would be sitting in his spot behind his desk, giving Bene that look. The one that said he wasn’t even mad, just disappointed.