She nodded, unsure if there was any truth in my statement. “I hope so.”
Then, she was gone, and I was left feeling responsible for whatever happened next.
* * *
Monday had come and gone with no sign of Sienna on campus. A few more days had passed where she still hadn’t come to school. I felt guilty. Because of me, her father was punishing her. A week later, the whispers started, the hallways buzzing with gossip about Sienna.
I stopped her friend, Avery, who was waiting in line to order food, and pulled her to the side. “Are the rumors true about Sienna?”
She frowned, the sadness in her eyes telling me the answer. “Yes. Her dad had her transferred to Harvard, so her brother could watch over her. She called me last night from her new roommate’s cell phone.” Confused, she added, “Why would he do that? She graduates in a few months.”
“Her dad has a lot of power.”
More than anyone realized.
Avery stared up at me and sighed. “I feel terrible about all this. If I didn’t help you…” she sighed, her voice trailed off before she finished the sentence. “It wasn’t just that day. Her dad found out about the necklace you gave her. He spoke to someone at Tiffany’s and dug around to find out who they made it for.”
“That’s private,” I shot back, pissed with the wrong person. My body trembled from the anger coursing through my veins, the adrenaline making me feel more alive. “They’re not allowed to reveal a client’s personal information.”
She clutched the books in her hand to her chest. “Well, they told her dad, and he flipped out when he found out it was from you.”
Irritated, I ran a hand through my hair, and then shoved my hands in my pockets. “Can you get a message to her?”
She bit her lip, nervous. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t want to get her in trouble. What do you want me to say?”
I turned my head, my eyes falling to the floor as I thought it over. “Never mind. Don’t tell her anything. Forget we had this conversation.”
“What conversation?”
I winked at her and then walked away to find my brother.
“You moving on to the new girl already?” Antonio joked.
I laughed. “Nah, I’m good. She’s yours.”
He shrugged, staring across the hallway at Avery. “I don’t mind sharing.”
The only girl I wanted I couldn’t have. I wasn’t ready to start a war. Not yet, anyway. Sienna was my Helen of Troy, and I would have burned down the world to get to her. But I had to be patient.
Chapter Six
Marco
On my way back to the car, I spotted Sienna across the street from the deli. Six moths had passed since she was shipped off to Cambridge, and now Sienna was home from college. She stood out front of the nail salon, with her long, black hair over one shoulder, blowing on her hands to dry the polish. Her lips were full, colored the same shade of red as her nails.
I tilted my head to the side to take in the length of her body, recalling each of her curves from memory. She scanned her surroundings as if she was waiting for someone, and then our eyes met. I burned a hole through her with my intense gaze, unable to look away, even though I’d been caught staring. She stared at me with equal intensity.
Sienna was beautiful, different from the women in my life who were so eager to please. But we never had the chance to become anything more, all because I made one mistake that set a chain of events into motion. We both knew the rules—stay away from each other. I didn’t want Senator York to steal Sienna from me again. So, I admired her from a distance.
When my dad said the name Jonathan York, it was as if the name burned his tongue. They exchanged the usual pleasantries to keep our family out of jail. My dad even contributed to her father’s re-election campaign. But my father’s message was loud and clear over the years. Knowing I couldn’t have Sienna only made me want her more. It was like when my mother told me I couldn’t eat bread before dinner, so I would sneak into the kitchen and steal a slice from the loaf just because I wasn’t allowed to do it.
Antonio walked up to me and stuffed the money he’d collected in my hand, diverting my attention. “That’s the last one for today.”
Once a week, we collected the payments local business owners paid my father for protection.
I shoved the thick stack of envelopes into the inside pocket of my suit jacket and glanced over my shoulder. We could never be too careful. “Did anyone give you trouble?”
He shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of the same deep blue eyes as mine. “Everyone knows the drill. The second I walked through the door, they were handing over envelopes full of cash.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“You think Dad will let me get in on the action this weekend?”
I glanced at Antonio, confused. “The card game? That’s for high rollers.”
“He put you in charge of the game. You get to make the rules.”
“It’s not that simple. There’s a structure to Dad’s game. You can’t just throw down fifty grand and get a seat at the table.”
“I’m good for it.”
I laughed. “Be serious. You don’t have that kind of cash. Not unless you stole it from Dad.”
“Says you,” he shot back. “What do you know?”
“I know you couldn’t come up with the money by Saturday night, not unless you plan to knock off a bank before then.”
“I’ve been saving up.”
“Don’t waste your money. You couldn’t handle some of these whales. They have more money than they know what to do with, and they don’t mind spending it. You would miss that kind of money. These degenerates could care less.”
New York’s wealthiest men drove to Long Island once a month for the card game my father had run since I was in diapers. An invite from him meant you were protected, part of the inner circle. We didn’t let anyone with money into our lives. The men were handpicked, vetted before they could get anywhere near us. Senators, big shot lawyers, Wall Street bankers, moguls, and even celebrities were some of the players at our games.
“I can hang with these guys.”
“No, not gonna happen. We already have enough people at the table.”
“But…” his voice trailed off when I held out my hand to silence him.
“You can come and watch, but you’re not getting in on the action.”
He blew out a puff of air, annoyed with me. I didn’t give a shit if he was pissed with me or not. My decision was final. My brother had a gambling problem, and I did my best to keep him from getting himself in too deep with the wrong people. The Salvatore name could only get him so far. Our father could only call in so many favors before Antonio had to get his act together.
“I’ll go to Luca then. He won’t stop me from playing a few hands at his tables.”
I narrowed my eyes at Antonio. “Don’t even think about going to Atlantic City. Luca will have you thrown out of his casino faster than you can cash out your chips.”
Our cousin, Luca Salvatore, owned the Portofino Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City. He also owned half the strip clubs and restaurants in and around the town. Like my father, Luca had amassed an empire that was untouchable, both of their operations directly linked to my grandfather who pulled the strings from Italy. We had every cop and politician from Long Island to Atlantic City on our payroll. With Luca moving so much legitimate money through his casino, it was easier for us to launder some of our illegal funds through his business.
Luca held online auctions he had set up to move anything from women to diamonds. But his specialty was choosing high-end women who wanted sugar daddies with certain needs. We made a lot of money for our family with our imports and exports. While my father handled the day-to-day operation of our routine business dealings, my brothers and I dealt with the more unsavory side of our business. The dirty work no one wanted to handle.
He shook his head, irritated. “Just because we shared the same womb doesn’
t mean you get to order me around. Luca wouldn’t turn me away, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
I gritted my teeth in anger. “I’m doing you a favor. Stop pushing it.”
We walked down the alley in silence, and my stomach growled when I smelled the fresh bread baking at Vincenzo’s.
“C’mon.” I tapped Antonio on the arm. “Let’s get something to eat before we head home.”
He followed me into the bakery, and we ordered a cannoli each. As per the usual, the woman behind the counter refused to accept my money out of respect for my family.
On our way back to the car, I heard a loud crack, followed by a few grunts. The unmistakable sound of a woman yelling stopped me dead in my tracks. I stepped back from the fence, scanned the long alleyway, and spotted a girl swinging at a man around my height and build.
I blinked twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining the scene in front of me. The girl swung her arm and slapped the man in the face. He grabbed her by her shoulders and lifted her up from the ground.
I’d had enough. For whatever reason, I couldn’t avoid trouble. It called to me, drew me in every time.
I chewed the rest of my cannoli and walked over to them with Antonio at my side. Gripping the back of the man’s shirt, I pulled him off the girl, surprised to see it was Sienna York. After I kneed him in the back of his leg, I knocked him to the ground and then kicked him in the face. Antonio took his turn, all too eager to get a few punches in before I told him to stop. I wanted to teach him a lesson, not rearrange his face.
Not long ago, Sienna was getting her nails done, and now she was hanging out with this loser. I shook my head, irritated to see it was Carlo Moretti, a man who worked for my father. From the looks of Carlo’s face, Sienna got a few good hits on him, too.
She was feisty, unlike the soft girl I once knew. Now, she was the kind of woman who needed to be tamed. Apparently, Carlo had the same idea as me. But she was mine. It didn’t matter she was off-limits. If I couldn’t have her, then no one could.
I looked down at Carlo and spit, my salvia landing next to his head. “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.” I moved my hand to the gun at my waist, pushing my suit jacket back for him to see it wasn’t an empty threat.
I would have gladly placed a bullet between his eyes if it meant keeping him away from Sienna.
Carlo spat blood at me, the loogie landing on my wingtip. “Fuck you, Salvatore. You’re not the fucking boss.”
“Fuck me?” I smirked at him, about to teach him another lesson for his disrespect. “Let’s see who’s fucked when it comes time to getting paid.” Then, I kicked him again in the face, wiping his spit on my shoe off on his skin.
I looked at Antonio and shook my head. “Can you believe this prick?”
An evil smirk tugged at the corner of Antonio’s mouth. Then, he refocused his gaze on Carlo, his leg already mid-air, raised to kick him again in the face. Following Antonio’s lead, my foot collided with Carlo’s stomach, drawing a loud groan from him. He covered his face with one hand and his balls with the other. We kept kicking until he was gasping for air.
Carlo rolled onto his side and sobbed with his hand over his face. Antonio and I were both sick fucks, a crazed tag-team that couldn’t control ourselves once we started. Not until Sienna screamed for us to stop did I realize we’d gone too far. Carlo’s face was a bloody mess, but he was still breathing.
“This isn’t over, Salvatore,” he cursed at us under his breath and ran while he still could walk.
Antonio bent over and laughed. “That was fun.”
I nodded.
Violence was in our blood. Adrenaline shot through my system, further intensifying my high. My entire body came to life when I was doing bad shit, every nerve ending set on fire at the same time. At one time, Sienna had given me the same rush.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Sienna said from behind me. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to protect me.”
I turned to face her and closed the distance between us when I saw the red handprint on her right cheek. “What kind of man would I be if I walked away?”
“A smart one,” she countered with the hint of a smile on her lips. “I got a few good hits on him. I didn’t need you to come to my rescue.”
I cupped the side of her face in my hand and inspected the bruise on her cheek, my jaw clenched in anger from what Carlo had done to her. “I’m sure you can handle yourself just fine.”
She was so angry about my intervention I didn’t understand it. Did she blame me for getting sent away six months ago? It was my fault. But still, I wasn’t the one who made her leave.
“I’m not some damsel in distress who needs a man to save her.”
I laughed. “I’m not the hero in your story”
She smiled. “No, then what are you?”
The corners of my mouth turned up into an evil grin. “The villain.”
Too bad the villain never got the girl.
Chapter Seven
Sienna
I parked in the circular driveway out the front of our house, which was more like a waterfront estate, surprised to find my father’s car. He was almost never home in the daytime, a sure sign something was wrong. Sucking in a deep breath, I clutched my purse in my hand and stepped inside, hoping I could sneak up to my bedroom without my dad noticing. No such luck.
“Sienna,” my father called from the den.
I stopped breathing, remaining eerily silent, until he called my name once more. Rolling my eyes, I said, “Yes, Daddy?”
“Come in here, please.” His voice was stern, a low rumble that shot fear through my body.
He was angry with me.
What the hell did I do now?
It was as if I could never meet his impossible standards. I set my purse on the entryway table and shrugged off my jacket.
Cara appeared from the hallway and was at my side, holding out her hand for me to give the jacket to her. “How was your spa appointment?”
I handed her my jacket and purse. “It was nice, I think. Well, it was until I got into a fight with this asshole who keeps bothering me.”
“Carlo Moretti,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.
I nodded. “Yeah, he won’t leave me alone. He’s been following me since I got home last week.”
Cara cupped my shoulder with her free hand and flashed a tiny smile for my benefit. “Maybe you should tell your father. He could talk to you know who about him.”
She meant Dominic Salvatore, Marco’s father.
I shook my head. “Definitely not. I don’t want either of them involved.”
After my father had found out I was hanging out with Marco, he called in a favor at Harvard and had my credits transferred. I was forbidden from ever speaking to Marco again. My father made it clear he would ruin Marco’s life if I didn’t do as he’d asked.
“Sienna,” my father yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the house. “Get. In. Here. Now.”
My body trembled from his harsh tone.
Cara patted me on the back and said, “You better go before Mr. York comes out here to collect you.”
“I’ll come find you later,” I promised, and then set off toward the den.
Cara was the closest thing I had to a mother. She’d raised me when my own mother was incapable of spending a second of her time with me. Too busy pretending to be a politician’s wife, my mom was planning another brunch or stuffy dinner party with her snooty friends, all while she was sleeping with the wealthiest men in Manhattan behind my father’s back. She was an embarrassment to our family, one I tried to avoid at all costs.
I wasn’t a factor in her life. From the second I was born, Cara was the person who held me in her arms, nursed me back to health when I was sick, and even helped me apply my first coat of makeup. Every important life event was shared with Cara.
“Daddy, you’re here,” I said entering the den, putting on my invisible mask and fake persona. �
�What a pleasant surprise.”
Not at all.
He glanced up from the computer on his desk, eyeing me suspiciously, as if he knew how unpleasant this was for me. “What’s this I hear about you hanging out with Marco Salvatore?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, confused, and sat in one of the oversized chairs across from him. “I wasn’t hanging out with Marco.”
“No?” He turned his computer monitor to show me a collection of photographs. “Then what are these?”
I studied the pictures of me standing next to Marco, unsure of how he’d know I was with him, when I’d only seen him an hour before. “I ran into him on my way home. It’s not a big deal.” Gritting my teeth in anger, I added, “And how did you get these? Are you having me followed again? You promised to stop doing that.”
“This re-election campaign is not going as smooth as I would have liked. I can’t afford any slip-ups, Sienna. It’s bad enough you decided not to attend graduate school in the fall.”
“Oh, what a massive disappointment,” I shot back. “I don’t need a Master’s degree. Four years was enough for me. Would you let me work for at least a year before you start breathing down my neck?”
“You will work on my campaign until I figure out what to do with you.”
“Do with me? Would you listen to yourself? For your information, I was not hanging out with Marco. He helped me.”
“Why would you need his help?’
“Because Carlo Moretti won’t leave me alone.”
My father sank into his oversized executive chair and rested his forearms on the leather. “You should have come to me about this. I could have dealt with that low life.”
“How would you have dealt with a thug like Carlo? Have him arrested on some bogus charge?”
He shrugged. “Whatever means necessary.” His tone lacked any emotion, as did his face. “In fact, I’ll have him dealt with right now.”
I wanted to slink out of my chair and run away when my father unlocked his drawer and removed the burner phone he used for emergencies. When he raised it to his ear, I knew who he was calling—Domenic Salvatore. My heart ached when I thought of Marco and how he’d saved me from Carlo earlier.
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