Fidelity (Infidelity) (Volume 5)

by Aleatha Romig

  “Even after we’re gone, if they call, only say that we’re unavailable.” He turned to my mother. “No one will give up your location until you’re ready.”

  Momma’s eyes were closed. One hand was near her neck while the other was on the table, encased in Oren’s.

  “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to,” Oren confirmed.

  Her neck straightened. “I do and I will. Just not now.”

  “When you’re ready, amore mio.” He searched her expression, his eyes narrowing. “Do you want to go back upstairs? Is this too much?”

  Momma’s head moved back and forth.

  “Shall we move on to the will?” Deloris asked.

  Heavy footsteps approached. “Mr. Demetri.”

  “Yes?” Oren and Nox answered in unison.

  I reached for Nox’s hand, unsure who the man was who’d entered the dining room.

  He was tall and dressed similarly to Isaac with a nondescript dark suit. “Sirs, there’s a guest who demands your presence.”

  Oren stood. “I said no one was to be allowed on the property.” His eyes flickered to Deloris. “No one not already approved.”

  “Sir, it’s—”

  It was then the voices came from the front of the house. I didn’t know who it was but the man’s Brooklyn accent was thicker than Oren’s.

  “EXPLAIN WHY YOU’RE here in this house!”

  Who was he speaking to?

  The voice bellowed from the front of the house like baritone thunder. Each rumble brought back a memory. With Adelaide right in front of me, the most prevalent recollection turned my stomach, taking me back to a bar in California. I purposely avoided Alexandria’s stare. Her red hair wasn’t as copper as her father’s, but her damn eyes were his.

  Even without visual confirmation, Vincent’s image danced through my mind, a slideshow commemorating the years. I recalled the accompanying glare, the bulging veins protruding from his wide neck, and the color that filled his cheeks.

  As a younger man, Vincent Costello had been the voice of reason. His influence while his father Carmine was alive and immediately following his father’s death, was instrumental. He understood the changing world and climate. His visions worked to move the family forward, evolving as technology advanced and recognizing the importance of legitimate investments. He’d ensured not only the survival of the Costellos but also the continued dominance of the family.

  Time and power had a way of clouding what was once clear. Though I hadn’t been directly involved with the Costellos for years, the ties were never fully severed. With both the role of family leader and time, he’d changed. That was evident the night he’d almost sentenced both of our sons to death, but from what I’d heard, it wasn’t the only time his decisions were impulsive.

  Arrogant was a term often whispered in the darkest of corners. No one dared say it aloud or to his face.

  From what I’d heard, everyone was watching and waiting for the time Luca assumed his father’s role. No one questioned Luca’s birthright. He’d paid his dues, some of them to the federal penitentiary. But like many before him, nothing stuck. His incarcerations were short. Even from behind the walls, Luca retained his position as underboss.

  Things had quieted in the recent past. Legitimate businesses comprised the main revenue stream. However, it was Vincent’s boisterous temper and growing waistline that caused many to project that the transition of power could happen sooner rather than later.

  “Tell me,” Vincent Costello demanded.

  “I’m here to help,” Eva replied.

  My eyes met Lennox’s as we both jumped to our feet heading straight to the pocket doors closest to the entry and quietly enclosing the dining room. Though we couldn’t see the people in the foyer, we could hear them, loud and clear. I eyed the other two doorframes before turning to the guard. “You let him in?”

  “Sir, he insisted.”

  My jaw clenched as Vincent’s voice continued to boom, each phrase as loud as the last, oblivious to listening ears. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t that he was unmindful, but rather that he didn’t care. I turned to Lennox. “Get them all upstairs.” I motioned toward Adelaide. “She’s tired and can’t manage the stairs without help.”

  “I’m fine. I can,” Adelaide countered. “What’s—”

  “Is that Vince—” Lennox asked interrupting Adelaide.

  “As soon as I distract him—them,” I said, “I want everyone upstairs.”

  “You’re not facing him alone.”

  “I am,” I contested. “After all, I’m the one who called him.”

  “What? You called him? Why?” my son asked, eyeing the people at the table. “You did it for them.”

  It hadn’t been a question, but I nodded in return.

  “Then it’s my responsibility,” Lennox said.

  “No. I called. I’ll talk to him.”

  The only thing on my mind was keeping Vincent Costello away from Adelaide Montague. The history was too real. Adelaide didn’t know it, but Vincent would. He’d connect the dots and I couldn’t predict his reaction.

  Once a job was done, it was done.

  What would he say or do if he knew that I’d pursued the wife of my first job?

  It wasn’t a confrontation I wanted to experience. As my pulse raced, my only goal was getting Adelaide Montague, the widow of Russell Collins and daughter of old man Montague, upstairs and away from Vincent. If I could sweep her from the chair and carry her upstairs myself, I would. Unfortunately the path would take us straight to Vincent.

  I turned as Silvia eased the other two entrances to the dining room closed.

  Safest room.

  That’s what I told myself as I exhaled and prepared for the inevitable meeting. Never in all my life had I seen Vincent or his father when he’d been alive, alone. Undoubtedly there was someone else out there with him watching his back. I suspected it was either Jimmy or Luca.

  God, let it be Luca.

  Stepping forward I reached for Lennox’s arm. “It would be better if you and I discussed this situation with our guest or guests in the office.” My words came clipped. “After you make sure everyone is upstairs.”

  Lennox’s eyes narrowed. Within the blue I searched for understanding and too late, realized its absence was my doing. I’d spent most of my life keeping my son away from this part of his heritage. Even though Angelina and I’d shielded him, he was an intelligent man; innately, he had to know that it was serious.

  Deloris stood. “Lennox, Isaac is here. I can contact him to come inside.”

  My son’s jaw clenched as he gazed from me to her. He looked from Adelaide to Alex and exhaled. “No. The guest…” He emphasized the title. “…will listen to Oren and me. Let’s not complicate this any more than it already is.” Again his eyes narrowed, lengthening his brow and silently admonishing my decision to include family.

  At the moment, his approval wasn’t my concern. Protecting Adelaide and concentrating on the impending meeting was. That family reunion sure as hell wasn’t happening in the dining room, and if I didn’t move soon, Vincent would come to find me.

  “Give me a minute to escort them to the office before you go upstairs.”

  “Sir, I can take them to the office,” the guard offered. I think his name was Paulie. He was part of the crew I’d borrowed from Vincent. It was no wonder he’d bowed to Vincent’s demands. Everyone within the organization did and most people outside of it would too.

  “Accompany me,” I said.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust the guard. I did. I had. He wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. My concern was Vincent. Angelina’s cousin came to see me. He wouldn’t be deterred without accomplishing his goal.

  Right before I reached for the dining room door, I turned back to Adelaide. Her expression was the one I described as plastic. I’d seen it many times in pictures and videos. Adelaide Montague had spent too many years perfecting the perfect shell. Her ability to mask her thoughts an
d feelings was one of her greatest defenses. It had been the times I’d broken through that mask that had melted my heart. Seeing the plastic smile in my home brought an ache to my soul. I didn’t ever want that expression, but right now it wasn’t meant for me. She too was intelligent. She knew something was happening even if she didn’t understand the particulars.

  In three strides I was before her; squatting near her chair, I reached out to her knee. “Rest, please. Let Lennox help you upstairs. I know you can make it on your own. You can do anything you set your mind to. There has been a lot happening and discussed today. Now, rest.

  “This doesn’t concern you or Alexandria,” I went on. “Let Lennox and I handle this. We can resume this conversation later.” I tilted my head toward the now-closed door, the one that if open would face toward the windows at the back of the house. “Besides, it’s getting dark.”

  “Adelaide,” Silvia offered, “let me bring you some fresh soup upstairs.”

  Deloris nodded as Lennox whispered something to Alexandria.

  “Thank you, Silvia,” I said with a nod and a feigned smile. Had my lips actually curled upward or was it more of a grimace? I wasn’t sure.

  Silvia’s gaze met mine. In her brown eyes was the understanding I wanted from everyone. That wasn’t possible. Understanding took a base of knowledge that only Silvia and I shared.

  With a squeeze of Adelaide’s hand and a kiss to her cheek, I took a step in front of Paulie and pushed back the door. As soon as we cleared the threshold, he began to explain.

  “Sir, I couldn’t—”

  With the uplift of my hand, I stopped his words. I didn’t want to hear his apology or reasoning. It wasn’t necessary. Turning from the attached room toward the entry, our footsteps echoing upon the bleached wood floor announced our arrival. Vincent, Luca, and Eva turned our direction.

  “Oren,” Vincent’s voice bellowed through the entry.

  “Vincent…” I turned toward his son. “…and Luca, welcome.” Luca had matured since I’d seen him last. How long had that been?

  “Well, you see,” Vincent said, “we weren’t sure how we’d be greeted. We weren’t invited.”

  I reached out my hand and shook each of theirs, firm and solid, the same as they did in return. “You’re always welcome.” I looked to Eva, appreciating her fortitude as well as her medical skills.

  Though she’d been in a verbal power match with her cousin, the head of the family, in that moment she reminded me more of my Angelina. There was nothing docile or submissive in her stance. Her arms were crossed over her breasts, neck straight, and lips held tightly together.

  There were many things I could say about the Costellos, many issues I’d had, but how they respected and adored women wasn’t one of them. That was why Angelina could argue with Vincent when I couldn’t. She was one of them, as was Eva. Though their voices had been raised, there was no real hostility, simply a desire to be heard.

  I doubted I’d be afforded the same concession.

  “Eva,” I said, nodding toward her, “has been a tremendous help as I’m sure you understand.”

  Vincent shook his head. “No, Oren, I don’t. We spoke, you and I, but I don’t really know what’s happening. When Luca here told me that Eva was staying with you, well, for her father’s sake, I offered to learn why.”

  Eva huffed at the mention of her father. “My father could have called me.”

  I smiled her direction. This wasn’t about her. She was his excuse. “Thank you, Eva. We seem good. Are you staying longer?”

  “I want to check—”

  “The patient,” I interjected, keeping Adelaide’s name out of the equation.

  “Yes. And then I’ll decide.”

  “Is someone ill?” Vincent asked. “Tell me it isn’t Lennox or Silvia.”

  I shook my head. “It isn’t.” I extended my arm toward the long living room that separated the front door from the back hallway. “Please, come with me to the office. We can talk.”

  Each step resonated in the silence as we crossed the floor. As we neared the door to the office, Luca spoke. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. It hasn’t changed.”

  Though the sun had set, the lights near the pool deck were on. Beyond the pool and lawn, the sound appeared as black as ink, a span of nothingness bordered by a horizon of lights as across the water Long Island shone in all of its glory.

  “It hasn’t changed, not much,” I agreed. “Not since Angelina left us… and then Jocelyn,” I added, realizing as I spoke that I rarely said or heard her name since her death. “As you know, I’m not here often.”

  “Lennox?” Vincent asked.

  My skin crawled at the sound of my son’s name on his lips.

  “Memories. You understand. He spends most of his time in the city.”

  “Brooklyn,” Vincent said. “That’s where he belongs.”

  His words twisted my already-knotted stomach.

  I opened the door to the office and motioned for them to enter. “He belongs with Demetri Enterprises. It requires most of his time.”

  Near the windows overlooking the pool were a leather sofa and chair. It didn’t surprise me that they both sat on the sofa. The windows were behind them with another wall of windows to their side. The door was in front of them. They knew enough about this house to know that the windows were bulletproof. Besides, ninety percent of the security on the grounds was Vincent’s men. They were as safe as babies in a cradle with their back to the window. Watching the door for whomever I had in the house was more of their concern.

  “And yet there have been reports of him with a new woman. His time appears divided.”

  I shrugged. “My son doesn’t share much with me.”

  Vincent leaned forward. “Shame. That’s what families should do—share.” His round head rolled on his wide neck. “It’s what I did when you asked.”

  I took the chair opposite them. “Thank you.”

  “You were in a hurry during our call,” Vincent said, “but for family, I was happy to help. How long do you think you’ll need my men?”

  The air burned my lungs with each inhale.

  Quid pro quo. Did a day equal a year?

  I sat tall and met his gaze. “Vincent, as I said on the phone, this is between us. Lennox isn’t involved. He’ll be here in a minute, but the debt is mine.”

  Luca stood and walked to the windows facing the pool. With his back to us, he said, “I haven’t seen my cousin in years and he couldn’t meet us at the door?”

  “I asked him to do me a favor.”

  “You seem to be in the asking mood a lot lately.” Vincent leaned back against the sofa and unbuttoned his jacket. “Which is interesting, considering we haven’t spoken in what…? Help me remember, Oren. My memory isn’t what it was.”

  “It’s been a few years.”

  “A few?”

  “It was after Angelina’s passing.” Hell, I couldn’t give him the exact date. Did he think I had it circled in red on a calendar in my drawer?

  He nodded. “How is business? Is there a problem, a concern? Is that the reason for the added security?”

  Before I could answer, Luca turned. “Who’s ill?”

  Shit!

  “Excuse me?”

  “Eva is an excellent doctor with a sharp tongue,” Vincent said. “She has patients of her own and yet here she is in your home.”

  The door opened and just as quickly shut.

  “My home and welcome.”

  I didn’t need to turn to know Lennox was the latest addition to our family gathering. I hadn’t had the chance to brief him about not saying the name Montague or Collins. I should have, but I didn’t expect the personal visit. I didn’t brief Lennox because if I had, he would have asked questions. Explaining the Collins connection that Vincent and I shared wasn’t on my list of things to do.

  Lennox came forward, offering his hand. With a hardy shake, he greeted his family. “Vincent. Luca.”

 
He and Luca exchanged a prolonged stare as they shook. No matter what had happened or would in the future, having both of these young men healthy and strong and shaking hands was a blessing, one that I hoped Vincent recognized. It could have all changed one night, long ago, in Jersey.

  “Lennox,” Luca said, patting Lennox’s shoulder. “Long time. Sorry about your wife.”

  Lennox stood taller. “Has it been that long? Thank you. We need to catch up. How’s Gabriella?”

  “She’s good. We have a son.”

  “You do?” Lennox answered as he pulled a chair closer to the grouping. “Congratulations. I am out of it. What’s his name?”

  “Carmine.”

  Lennox and I nodded.

  “How old?” I asked.

  “Only six months.”

  I turned to Vincent. “You’re a grandfather. Congratulations.”

  “You?” he asked me as Lennox shifted in his chair.

  “No.”

  Vincent leaned forward. “They’re better than having your own. You can spoil them and hand them back.”

  I took a deep breath, thinking of a million responses, none of which Lennox wanted to hear. As the silence grew, I said, “This has been nice. We should do it more often.”

  It was total bullshit, but the pause in conversation made me uncomfortable. I was used to being the man on the other side. I made the awkward silence—I didn’t suffer through it.

  Luca sat again by his father. “You were just talking about Eva’s patient. I missed the name.”

  Before Lennox could speak, I jumped in. “I didn’t offer… but I should have. Her name is Chelsea, Chelsea Moore.”

  I had to give my son credit. He didn’t flinch, not a sigh, or even a blink. Maybe he did understand more than I thought.

  “And what happened to this Chelsea Moore?” Vincent asked.

  Lennox shook his head. “She got the shit beat out of her. She’s scared to death and has the bruises to show for it.”