Coupled with the fact that he was increasingly prone to violent outbursts, even in public, word spread. Angelo had gone insane. Gone was the quiet, reserved man who ruled back when my mom lived. The De Luca curse had seized him, people whispered. Yes, my black eye had confirmed.
See, syndicates always embodied loyalty, honor, and family. Angelo had already been chipping away at these values, and rumors of him beating me pushed them over the edge. They reached a new high.
I knew Angelo knew this, because he’d been lurking around the household, eyeing me up every time he could. He stopped visiting me at night a few days ago. He stopped leaving the house a few days before that.
Which was how I knew my next task would bring him over the edge. The last push before all the dominoes fell. It was less of a task and more of a list filled with bank account info and routing numbers. The De Luca coffers.
You know what to do.
And I did.
Whether it’s the United States government, the Girl Scouts of America, Pee Wee football, or the De Luca syndicate, organizations only exist when money funds them. So, the day of prom, I drained the accounts.
Cris transferred the funds to new accounts we had set up last week when I brought him into the fold of my coup. The offshore accounts with the rerouted money belonged to holding companies I’d registered under Angelo’s name.
Thanks to offshore privacy laws, I was able to transfer the money from the offshore accounts to new accounts with no one knowing. For all they knew, Angelo still had the money in his dummy accounts.
Cris tucked the computer we bought for this away in his backpack. “I’ll have the laptop destroyed just in case they decide to track the IP address. I logged on through Angelo’s private WiFi network, so it’ll trace back to him if someone decides to go looking.”
I slid a tie around my neck. “Tomorrow, payroll will come, and our accountants will realize everything’s wiped clean. If someone looks, it will be traced to Angelo. If no one looks, either way, people won’t get paid. Those who aren’t already questioning will have his head.”
“What will you do?” He watched as I finished adjusting the tie. “Dude, are you going to prom? We just wiped nearly a billion dollars. I kinda want to go to Vegas and hit a high roller’s table.”
“First, Vegas is Rossi territory. They don’t like us.”
“No one likes us.”
“I’ll change that.” I slid my feet into my Testonis and turned to face Cris. “Second, that money is not for us.”
“I know. It’s to rebuild the syndicate once Angelo is gone. Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
People would lose money, turn against Angelo, and rally with me when I tell them I can use my home access to get the money back from Angelo.
Bye, bye, Angelo.
“Third, yes, I’m going to prom, and you should, too. We’ll both need to act like nothing is out of the ordinary. I had an extra suit dry-cleaned for you.”
Cris was adjusting his tie when he finally asked the question I’d been waiting for him to ask. “How’d you get the banking info? That shit’s locked tighter than the Pentagon.”
“If we get through this, I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Twenty
“Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that iron string.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
Renata Vitali
Normal.
Two syllables. Adjective. Conforming to a standard.
Synonyms: usual, typical, or expected.
Antonym: my life.
Turning eighteen felt like it should have been a rite of passage. I didn’t feel any more or less like an adult than I had at seventeen. I didn’t celebrate my newfound adulthood with parties or friends. Heck, I’d forgotten it was my birthday until I woke up the next morning and Angelo De Luca told me eighteen was a little too old for his taste.
Maybe that was why I showed up to prom.
I wanted to feel normal, but in a town of mafiosos and their children, normalcy evaded me. Prom represented my last chance at normal high school memories. The crowded gym and paper decor screamed, “Normal!” The taffeta dresses and matching ties? Normal. Sitting at an empty table, watching other kids enjoy their senior prom? All too normal.
So, why wasn’t I happy?
Maybe I didn’t know what I wanted.
I certainly no longer wanted to be here.
I stood and headed for the hallway, grabbing a water bottle from the refreshment table on the way out. The library entrance nestled at the end of the hall welcomed me. I left the door open, so the hallway light could stream into the library, and took a seat on the floor.
I downed the water and spun the empty bottle, bored out of my mind but too stubborn to leave the only high school event I’d ever been to.
“You’re the life of the party.”
“No self-respecting woman should wish or work for the success of a party who ignores her sex. Susan B. Anthony.”
“Not the kind of party I was referring to.” He stepped closer until his feet were in my line of sight, next to the bottle.
I trailed my eyes up his body, taking in the three-piece suit he wore like he posed in a GQ feature. “No shit.”
“So, you’re in a grumpy mood, I see.” He took a seat next to me and leaned against the bookshelf behind us. “What is it about libraries?”
“Nothing is less lonely than a room full of books.” I breathed in. “And the smell. Definitely the smell.”
He reached beside him and grabbed a random book, flipping through it quicker than he could possibly read. “Why are you here?”
“Why are you here?”
“Really?”
“Do you ever feel like the only real people in this world are the ones in these books?”
“Or maybe the world we’re living in is a book, and we’re just characters.”
I rested my head against the bookcase and closed my eyes. “If that’s the case, someone is reading me, becoming me, understanding me, and maybe I’m not so lonely after all.”
He paused a beat, and the silence burrowed between us. “I’m sorry you feel lonely.”
This was getting too real.
“Why are you here, Damsel?” I nodded in the direction of the gym. “You should be out there with your loyal subjects.”
The lopsided grin he gave me shocked my system, and the calmness I’d always prided myself on fled. “Don’t you mean your loyal subjects, Princess? You’re the Vitali.”
“I’m the Knight, and don’t change the subject. Why are you here?” I leaned forward, and I didn’t even consider why I held my breath as I waited for his answer.
“Let’s dance.”
“What?” I shook my head. “If we go out there together, we’ll break their little minds.” As far as I knew, no one knew about our friendship.
“So, we’ll dance in here.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “Don’t think too hard. If you want to dance with me, dance with me. As simple as that.” He stood and turned to face me.
The second my palm pressed against his, I knew I’d made the right decision. A slow song drifted into the library, faint but enough for us to find a rhythm. My fingers gripped his shoulders as his hands slid around my waist.
I forced myself to keep breathing when he stepped forward, and my chest brushed against him. The first step we took was effortless. In sync without trying.
I rested my chin on his shoulder, and my nose brushed against his neck. I felt his Adam’s apple bob against my cheek. “Thank you.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the territory we drifted into felt dangerous. Risky. Like it could either be the best decision or the worst decision I’d ever made. I was almost thankful when he said, “Don’t think too much of it,” instead of something that would tip us past the breaking point.
Maybe he saw the million questions running through my head, because he dipped me and spoke into my ear. “Tell that brain of yours to shut up and let us dance.”
&n
bsp; “Why?”
He pulled me back up, and his grip on my waist tightened. “Because you’ll find out.”
That he cared about me.
“I already have.”
His eyes darkened as they scanned my face. We’d stopped dancing after the dip, but he still held me, and I still clutched onto his shoulders.
My pulse was erratic.
Damn it, Heart.
My throat closed up.
Not you, too, Throat.
My knees buckled.
I give up, Body.
I kissed him.
Our lips pressed together, and instinct latched onto me as I explored his mouth. His tongue traced my lips. I parted them, and he slipped inside. His tongue stroked the roof of my mouth, and he took a step into me, backing me into the bookcase behind me.
The musty scent of books, and characters, and worlds mixed with his scent of bergamot and blackcurrant. I needed him closer, but I didn’t know how to ask. My hands slid down his shoulders and pulled at the tucked edges of his dress shirt underneath his vest. I dipped my fingers under the shirt and explored the hard edges of his stomach muscles.
His mouth drifted from my lips to my jaw and down my neck. I cried out when his tongue traced my collarbone, then bit down. My right hand wrapped around his body and squeezed his butt cheek, but the phone in his pocket blocked my movement.
As if someone had dumped a bucket of water on my head, I lurched out of the lust fog. What had I done? We were… I didn’t know what we were. Natural born enemies? Accidental friends? Neither felt right.
Maman hadn’t contacted me yet, but I knew she would. I’d been eighteen for a week now. When she contacted me, I could leave. Damian only complicated things. He must have felt my waning enthusiasm because he backed up, giving me space.
My heart warred between feeling grateful and wounded.
It’s not the first time he’s hurt you, Heart. Remember when you first came here?
My heart wasn’t having any of my logic.
He may have hurt me, but he heals so much better.
Damian’s brows furrowed. “Knight?”
Panic lodged itself in my throat, and I forced some words out. Any words. “This means nothing.”
Frustration flashed within his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Princess.”
The lust fog may have eased, but I still felt heavy. Like layers of secrets and history weighed me down as I stood mere feet from the first boy I’d ever kissed. “I need air.”
It took a moment, but he finally nodded. “I can take you home.”
I agreed, grabbed the empty water bottle I’d chugged earlier, and forced myself to take steps toward the gym to get my coat from the coat check. A rivulet of sweat trailed down my cheek. I swiped at it with a hand that felt like lead.
My body swayed into Damian’s as we entered the gym.
He caught me and steadied me just as he returned. “You okay?” When I nodded, his hand still on my elbow squeezed. “Stay here. I’ll go get your coat.”
I stumbled to the refreshments table a foot away, my dry mouth begging for a water bottle.
Laura met me at the table, a smirk pasted on her cherry-red lips. “Still thirsty?” She looked at the empty bottle in my hand, then the row of water bottles with one missing. Mine.
It took me a moment too long to piece it together. That fog in my head pressed down with each second. She’d put something in the water bottles, water bottles only I drank from. Everyone was in on it.
Was Damian?
I shook my head and swayed again.
Like earlier, Damian caught me. “Ren?” When I didn’t answer, he turned to Laura, his arms still around me. “Laura? Care to explain?” The hardness in his tone eased my worries.
He didn’t know.
I let myself check out as they talked.
Laura crossed her arms. “I-I…We were just having fun.”
Damian’s head brushed my cheek as he turned to look at the water bottles. “You drugged her? What if I’d drunk from a water bottle? Would you have drugged me?”
“One of us would have stopped you!”
“Are you insane? She’s a Vitali, Laura. Her family could have us all wiped from existence!” The gym had quieted, and Damian’s shouts rang across the gym as he addressed the entire student body. “Have you all gone fucking insane?! Why would any of you go through with this?!”
Silence.
“Someone better fucking answer me. Now!”
“Laura said it was your idea.”
I didn’t know who spoke up, but he sounded like a chipmunk. I’d never loved chipmunks, but I’d always loved animals. Why didn’t I love chipmunks?
My knees buckled again, and Damian all but carried me now. “Your punishment will be given tomorrow, Laura.” He raised his voice. “As for the rest of you, you’re all fucking idiots.”
I looked up at him. “I’m an idiot?”
He closed his eyes, sighed, and opened them again. “No. Now let’s get you home.” He bent down and carried me bridal style.
My head lolled back. “I feel like a princess.”
“You are a princess.”
“But I’m a Knight. I do the saving, not you.”
“Consider me a fellow knight. We’re in a battle together. I’m doing what any knight would do and helping a fellow knight.”
“Damian?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what we’re talking about.”
His lips turned upward before abruptly shifting downward. “Rest, Knight. We’ll be home soon.”
The driver opened the door. Damian slid us into the car, and I closed my eyes as I sat on his lap, my head resting on his shoulder. When I opened them again, I was on my bed, and the room began to spin. Damian stood at the foot of the bed, an oversized shirt of his in one hand.
He followed me as I ran across the hall and heaved into the bathroom toilet. I took the shirt he offered, and he turned away as I changed out of my dress and into the shirt, which fell down to my thighs. It smelled like him. His scent eased the dizziness and caused tingles to spread across my flushed skin.
I blinked a few times until his face became clearer. “What’s happening?”
“Laura gave you GHB.” He helped me back to my room and onto my bed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’ll be drowsy, dizzy, nauseous, sweaty, and tired. But you’ll be okay.” He hesitated as he tucked me into bed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You probably won’t remember a thing.”
I remembered that we weren’t friends. “Why are you helping me?”
His jaw ticked, and he swung his gaze to the side for a moment. “Earlier, you said the only real people in this world are the ones in books. But you’re real, too, and when I’m around you, you make me real. You make me alive.” He took my hand. “It’s the only time I don’t feel like I’m just going through the motions.”
A lopsided smile grew on my face. “I think I like you.”
“I think I more than like you. If things weren’t so complicated, I could see myself with you forever.”
“Like when a princess and prince marry and live happily ever after?” I yawned and closed my eyes.
“Yes. Just like that.”
“I’d need a ring.” I snuggled deeper into the covers. “The princess always has a ring when she lives happily ever after.”
Some shuffling interrupted my near slumber, and when a hand touched mine, I opened my eyes. The edges of my vision blurred, but I could see Damian crystal clear.
With the Sharpie in his hand, he drew a ring around my wedding ring finger. “And we lived happily ever after.” He popped the cap closed, blew cold air onto my finger, then kissed the top of it. “Sweet dreams, Princess.”
When I woke up, a thin black line drawn across my finger caught my eyes. I didn’t know how it got there, but it felt important.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Trust starts with a truth and
ends with a truth.”
– Santosh Kalwar
Renata Vitali
The seat pulled out across from me, and I swung my gaze up to Damian. We studied each other. He quirked a brow up, daring me to tell him not to sit.
I rolled my eyes. “Go ahead.”
Two freshmen giggled as they passed our table in the corner of the school library. Usually, I ate near the center bookshelves during lunch period, but I couldn’t sit there without flushing at the memory of Damian kissing me against them.
“We’re in public,” I pointed out.
“Way to go, Nancy Drew.”
“What happened to not being able to be near me in public?”
“I think that no longer applies after I very publicly stood up for you at prom and we left together.”
Yeah. That.
I scratched at my shoulder, stared at anything but him, before finally giving him the attention he deserved. “Thank you.”
“What’s that?”
“Thank you,” I repeated louder, and what did you know? It didn’t kill me. “Why’d you do it?”
His eyes flicked up and down my face. “What do you remember about last night?”
“I remember…” I cleared my throat. “I remember the library.”
“That’s it?”
Gosh, he was going to make me say it.
“I remember the kiss. I remember the gym. You took down Laura and everyone else. Then, you drove me home.”
“And then?”
“And then, it gets fuzzy. You helped me to bed, and—” It occurred to me that he hadn’t answered my question. “Are you going to tell you why you helped me?”
Why you kissed me…
“You don’t remember what we talked about?” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he chose not to.
My brows dipped together. He was acting weird, not his typical, put-together self. His behavior made me antsy. I traced the marker ring around my finger, a nervous tick I’d developed over the duration of this conversation. I didn’t even know where it had come from, but I drew comfort from it.
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