by Bethany-Kris
“We can’t kill him,” Beni snapped. Still on his sabbatical from Chicago to help them out until their father was released, or otherwise, Bene’s twin had to state the obvious. Which only earned him a glare from Marcus. “I’m just saying, we can’t do that, but you posed the statement like it might be an option.”
“I didn’t pose anything,” Marcus replied heatedly.
“Relax,” Chris muttered, “both of you.”
In the corner of the room, standing in the only portion of shadows, Corrado scrubbed a hand down his face, his sigh echoing. “Marcus and Beni are both right. I mean, if you want to get technical, and Chris has a point—stop snapping at one another. It doesn’t help, and it gives me a fucking headache.”
“You,” their father said from behind the metal table where his hands rested on the top, wrists cuffed, and connected to a bitch link in the middle, so he couldn’t even stand from his position, “need to go back home to Ginevra, Les, and the baby.”
Corrado dead-stared their father, saying nothing. His lack of words said it all, anyway. He, like the rest of them, wasn’t going anywhere until this was said and done. Until they either got their father out of jail, and off these bullshit charges of wire fraud and attempted money laundering, or they figured something else out. Which so far, was proving impossible.
“As I said,” Corrado drawled slowly, turning his attention back to their brothers, “Marcus is right in that something has to be done about the detective. Constable Keefs is the star witness to all of this, it’ll be his word that seals the deal on the authenticity of the photos of the documents taken from Papa’s office. The only thing saving us right now is the fact that when they raided the house, all of those documents had already been destroyed. So, what they have is his word, and if they don’t even have that ...”
Yes, because their father only kept something that showed illegal activity just long enough to look it over, do what he needed with it, and then he burned everything. Keefs was the only person, considering the informant—Vanna—was no longer cooperating with the investigation.
Apparently, for the protection of the anonymous witness, as the police had stated in their last media conference, they would not force her in to testifying when they had enough using the Constable on the stand for trail, should they make it that far.
“Except we can’t kill him,” Chris said to Corrado.
“No, and Beni was right on that, Marcus, so chill.”
Marcus, the only one of the five brothers sitting at the metal table with their father, considering there had only been two uncomfortably hard chairs placed in the private conference room at the jail for them to visit with their dad, scowled but stayed quiet. Because he knew Corrado and Beni were right, no doubt, but it still pissed him off a great deal.
Bene didn’t blame him.
“Killing him,” Corrado continued, ignoring their oldest brother’s attitude, “would instantly come back to us, no matter how we framed it. And when we get Papa off these charges, because we will somehow, we need as little attention on us as possible. Then, he can slip back under the radar, and we won’t have someone up our asses every single time we do business. It’s the smart thing to do, but killing that bastard? That’ll ruin everything. We need to figure out another way to make the detective unreliable to his superiors and the judge.”
Things were not simple.
It wouldn’t be easy.
This was bad all around.
No one needed to say that out loud for the rest of them to know it was true. Whenever they were around their ma or dad, the boys kept an upbeat demeanor. They never made it seem like this was a hopeless situation, and Gian would be stuck right where he was until he was found guilty, and then moved to a prison. Never did they suggest to their ma that her husband wouldn’t be coming home to her.
Still, there was a chance.
They were running out of time to figure it out.
“I hate that detective,” Gian muttered. “Just like his fucking partner years ago. They’re cut from the same cloth, and it isn’t like ours.”
Bene did well to keep his mouth shut at his father’s comment. Not that Gian was wrong—he also wasn’t entirely right. The phone burning a goddamn hole in his pocket constantly would confirm that, given the recorded phone call Vanna sent him a couple of weeks prior. The detective was just as bad as any of them when it came to dirty money and bribery, but he liked for everyone else to think he was the good guy cop at the same time.
Still, he kept his mouth shut.
Now wasn’t the time.
And ... well, if he were honest, it wouldn’t end well for Bene if he outed to his brothers and father during their weekly jail visit that he was still—even if it was only through random text messages from phone numbers he didn’t recognize—attached to Vanna Falco. No, he wasn’t seeing her, and he sure as hell wasn’t fucking her, even if she made regular appearances in his dreams, but he was in contact with her.
He was using her for all she gave.
She was willing.
He had to do something for his family because no one else was getting anything done on their side of things. Their father was still in jail, his first bond hearing denied because he was considered a high flight risk what with his available funds and ties all over the world. His brothers pulled every single string they had, called in every contact they might be able to use, and still nothing.
So yeah, they might hate him later.
They’d be pissed he used her info to help.
Bene would do what he had to—if it worked, and it got his father free, then wasn’t that all that mattered at this point?
He thought so.
Now, it was just a matter of figuring out how to use the info he had been given from Vanna on the detective, and more recently, about the men of the Camorra. Mario, and the bastard’s father ... their people. All their recent, illegal business dealings were on his phone to be used whichever way he saw fit, but he just hadn’t figured out how yet, or if it would even help.
“And you,” his father said.
Bene looked at his dad, doing his best to ignore the fact Gian’s usual three-piece suit had been replaced by a drab, gray jail uniform that didn’t even fit him that well. “What about me?”
“Make sure you stay out of trouble, son.”
Right.
What his father really wanted to say was make sure you stay away from that woman, Bene.
He could see it in Gian’s eyes.
“Let’s just worry about you right now, Papa.”
That’s why they were all there.
And Bene had never been a good liar.
• • •
Bene and Beni lingered midway on the steps of the police station where their father was still being housed in the jail as the rest of their brothers conversed a few steps down. Corrado was apparently hitting a flight to New York to spend a day or so with Ginevra while Alessio needed to head to Vegas for something. He’d be back soon enough, he promised. Chris was heading across the city—a politician to bribe, if he could make it work.
Marcus had to handle business.
The world didn’t stop turning.
It only felt like it.
“Handle your shit, yeah?” Marcus called over his shoulder to the younger twins. Bene and Beni, still mirrors of one another even after everything, nodded in sync without prompting. “Good, and keep me updated on Ma, Beni.”
With that said, the rest of their brothers dispersed. Bene and Beni, however, still remained on the steps of the jail until every single one of their siblings had disappeared, and it was safer for them to chat about the phone burning a hole in Bene’s pocket.
Because of course ...
He trusted his twin more than anyone. There was no chance in hell he would do something like go behind his family’s back without telling Beni. No judgement, his brother would do whatever he needed to help him, and that was that.
“Anything new?” Beni asked.
Be
ne nodded. “Where’s your phone?”
Saying nothing more, Beni pulled his own smartphone from his pocket. Bene’s came out, too, and he placed the phones back to back. Turning his home screen on, all he needed to do was touch the transfer data button on the settings app, and everything Vanna had sent him from random phone numbers in the last two weeks went straight to his brother’s phone. After it was all done, Beni spent a minute or two going through some of it.
“You’re not answering her back, huh?”
Bene swallowed hard. “What, you think I should? After what she did, you think—”
“I think you’re in love with her, and sometimes, people we love do things that hurt us for reasons we can never understand. It teaches us about forgiveness and just how capable we are of forgiving someone else in a way nothing else can, Bene.”
He sighed.
His twin waited him out.
“She’s getting married in two weeks,” he muttered.
Beni shrugged one shoulder, as though that little detail didn’t matter to him a bit in the world. And who fucking knew, maybe it didn’t. It mattered to Bene. A lot. “Yeah, still not sure that’s because she wants to, or someone demanded it.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s still happening.”
“And you still love her,” his brother pointed out.
“What is your point?”
“Well ...maybe I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
He couldn’t tell a bigger lie.
He was far from fine.
Bene’s thoughts warred with his heart. His loyalty to his family battled with the love he felt for a woman whose only intention had been to take away the things that meant the very most to him. And then he remembered her tears—the way she tried to apologize, even though he refused to let her even speak the words. He couldn’t get the image of her pain and grief out of his head when he said horrible things to her, even if they were deserved.
Those images were burned into his mind, now. Impossible to remove, and because he couldn’t get rid of them, he was forced to think about them all the time, and what they might mean. Like the fact that yes, he absolutely believed she loved him, too.
Yes, after her attempt to help him with whatever info she could gather and send, he believed she spoke the truth when she said she regretted the things that she had done, except it was too late. She couldn’t fix it now.
They were doomed.
An impossible thing.
And he still wanted her.
Fuck him for wanting her.
“It’s a complicated thing,” Bene murmured, staring at the building across the street from their current position. It was far easier than staring at his brother who would see the truth in his eyes the moment he met Beni’s gaze. “And not a thing I think is worth trying to fix, if it even can be now, you know?”
“Don’t say that. Anything is possible.”
Bene barked out a laugh. “And what do you think would happen if after everything was said and done, I brought her home again? Oh, let’s have a do-over, Ma, meet the girl I love that helped put your husband in jail.”
“I’d be more worried about Marcus, actually.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughed, though, as weak as it was because his brother wasn’t wrong. Marcus’s protective nature really came out to play lately, but especially where their family was concerned. He wasn’t fucking around anymore, and he wouldn’t hesitate to end someone if their intentions for the Guzzi family was less than innocent.
Beni cleared his throat, glancing down at the phone in his hand. “Anyway, on this shit here ... I’ll take it to Uncle Tommas and see what he can do.”
“Don’t let him—”
“He won’t tell Papa it came from you, or that Vanna had anything to do with it. And besides, he’s just going to pull his contacts, work some shit, and see what he can get done for the Camorra and the detective. Maybe it’ll work for what Corrado was saying in there earlier about making the detective unreliable. And hell, if we can throw in removing that Camorra clan from the equation, too, then even better.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You gotta give the process time to work, man.”
He would.
It was still hard.
“What if she doesn’t get married?” his brother asked after a moment.
Bene’s chest ached. “They’ll still hate her.”
“But you don’t.”
Didn’t he?
God knew it felt like it sometimes.
Love.
Hate.
Such a fine fucking line.
“I’m heading over to see Ma at her and Dad’s penthouse,” Beni said, “do you want to come, or—”
“Tell her I’ll be by later.”
His brother shot him a look. “What else do you have to do?”
More things he shouldn’t.
What else?
Bene shrugged instead of answering.
Basically, his life in a nutshell now.
• • •
She didn’t smile.
At all.
In fact, Vanna constantly looked as if she was ready to kill her fiancé whenever the man was in breathing distance. Sometimes, she did well to hide it, and other times ... she didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.
Now was one of those times.
Bene, from his position hidden in an alley across the street from a restaurant that Vanna and Mario frequented throughout the week, he watched as the two of them stood face to face in front of a running town car parked on the curb. The man driving in the car stood near the rear passenger door, ready to open it for the two when they wanted to leave, but they weren’t paying him any attention.
Probably because they were too busy glaring.
And their voices?
Loud enough for him to hear.
That was not a couple in love.
Not in the least.
God knew he had no business spying on these two, especially because he wasn’t doing it to help his family in their current situation. No, he followed the two because a part of him still wanted to know what was happening here—why was she marrying that man, and had everything between them been a lie?
Bene learned more than he wanted.
More than his heart could handle.
“What did I tell you, huh?” Mario demanded.
Vanna stared back, unbothered. “I’m not going to be pleasant just because you tell me to fix my face, put on a dress, and go out to look pretty on your arm, Mario.”
“You will do whatever I tell you.”
She let out a bitter laugh.
God.
It hurt in Bene’s chest just to hear it, and it wasn’t even directed at him. It sounded like a mixture of desperation, anger, and more.
“You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Vanna asked.
“That you’re going to be my wife whether you like it or—”
“You can’t make me want you, and you won’t force me to be your fucking pet. You didn’t like the way I acted in there tonight, then too fucking bad for you. I’m not a doll for you to play with whenever you feel the goddamn need.”
“Listen, you’ll either get in line, or you won’t like what happens when you don’t.”
“I don’t love you!”
“Watch your fucking tone,” Mario snarled, “before I cut the tongue right out of your mouth. We’ll see how much attitude you give me then, huh?”
Jesus.
He was still mad at Vanna.
Still had things to say to her.
Despite all that, it took every ounce of his will power to stay hidden in his spot when what he really wanted to do was cross the street and beat that man into the pavement for threatening Vanna like that. For some reason, he doubted it was the first time.
One of many, likely.
Even from his position in the alley across the street, Bene could still see her jaw clench. That fire in her eyes?
Clear as day.
Her pain?
Echoing.
“I hate you,” Vanna said loudly. “And that won’t change ... not now, not after you make me walk down the aisle, and not after you force me into your bed to act as the easy hole to stick your dick into. It won’t change. I hate you.”
Yeah, Bene learned all kinds of things.
And it only hurt more.
Mario’s hand struck out, his fingers catching Vanna under her jaw in a tight grip as he forced her head back so that she had to stare up at him. Bene’s hands clenched into tight balls at his sides as he willed himself not to move.
He shouldn’t even be here.
Shouldn’t see this happening.
He shouldn’t care.
This only made a complicated situation even more complex. He had so much shit he needed to say to that woman—some of them would hurt her, and others were simply the truth that needed to be said. The phone in his pocket, with her text that said I’m sorry constantly mocked him because yeah, he knew she was. He still didn’t know if it changed anything, though.
But this?
Knowing what he did?
Seeing her with him?
Well, that changed everything.
Bene still didn’t know what it might mean. He did know that whatever it meant, he wouldn’t try to figure it out over random texts that he couldn’t even answer back. And he couldn’t have that woman at all if he couldn’t get back the things she’d helped to take from him.
So, where did that leave this?
And them?
A mess.
That’s where.
“And yet,” he heard the man tell Vanna while he squeezed his eyes shut, “even if you hate me, you’ll still be mine to do with whatever I please. So, who’s really winning here? You should make this easier on yourself, Vanna, and give me what I—”
“I’ll never be yours.”
No.
Because she was Bene’s.
Fuck his whole life.
20.
There were several things Vanna didn’t want to do.
She didn’t want to be getting married today. Not to mention in a church that wasn’t the one her father used to take her to every Sunday morning. She didn’t want to wear a dress that looked more like something straight out of a princess movie instead of something more suited to her style. She didn’t want to be promising her life to a man she could never love when she still hadn’t even been able to properly apologize to the one who still owned her fucked up, broken heart.