Bad Girl (Les Pétales)

by Samuels, Kailee

  Staring at the future, I whispered, “I know, Sir.”

  “Better make it something worth remembering.”

  “Juliet,” I announced out of the blue. “I'm naming this place, Juliet.”

  * * *

  I would keep our affair secret until this very day, Salvatore. I see the tremble in your lips and the tears in your eyes, and I know you may not understand. I know you may never forgive me.

  I was Anna Ford Ballister for a reason.

  I needed to protect what was precious to me.

  I told the lies, stoked the fires of deceit, and kept the secrets safe because that was what mistresses did. I let everyone believe I was the happy, devoted Mrs. Ballister. But if that were true, don’t you think I would have married him?

  If anyone had discovered Luca and I, everything would have changed, and neither one of us would have had the freedom we both so craved.

  There are times when a woman keeps secrets to preserve the future.

  And the future is you, Lucas Salvatore.

  The Heir

  CHAPTER 18

  September 7, 2015

  * * *

  Blotting my eyes, I wad the tissue into my hand and take a sip of the water from the clear plastic cup. I avoid his steely gaze as I know the pain my deceit has caused.

  “Say something, Salvatore,” I whisper, reaching across the table. “I don't care what. Just say something. I will suffer for my sins. I’m not asking you to absolve them. Just please…”

  His fingers strum against the long folding table. “… You were in love with my old poppa.”

  “No,” I say with a smile. “I was in mad love with your old poppa.”

  I straighten up the chair as the story has left my movements restless. I spot the pile of tissues, the empty bottles of water, the three packs of smokes, and the ashtray full of butts. There is a half-empty, clear container of crustella with powdered sugar dusts around the box. My journal and the notes wait like silent soldiers, but they’re no longer aimless as I’ve confided my story to this young man—Luca’s grandson, Salvatore. He’s been sketching on a notepad as I talk. I point to his box of Camels.

  “… May I?”

  With an unrelenting gaze, Sal nods and scoots the open pack across the table. I pull one from the box as he reaches to flick the Zippo for me. My hands tremble as I blink up and exhale.

  “Thank you.” My wrinkled, age-spotted hand smooths over the fabric of my gray pants. “I wasn’t going to come, but I needed to tell you my story before it was…too late.”

  He was so excited to see me when I arrived, but I get the feeling not so much now. He even shaved and had a haircut. I see the new ink upon his skin, and I cannot begin to understand how hard this time has been on him.

  His jaw twitches under stress. “How did I end up here? Was it all just a ploy?”

  “I knew when your father sent you away,” I admit. “I kept in contact with Paloma…”

  “Nonna…”

  “Yes, Nonna after Luca passed. I needed to make sure you were okay. I owed it to your grandfather. Through Serene, I knew Sibyl and the Feds were investigating the Raniero’s.

  He yanks a smoke from the pack and puts it between his wine-stained lips. “That was nothing new,” he says as we fill the room with a cloud. “They were always up in our business. And they had every reason to be.”

  “Kaci wanted you, so I asked one of our upper ranked submissives, Deanna, to go bring you home.”

  Shaking his head, he covers his face with his palms as he scoots down into the chair. “I just don’t understand how you did this.”

  “How do we do anything, Sal?” I asked, eager to hear his answer. “How did you send Iris away?”

  His fist hits the table as a sudden thud vibrates through my arms. “Iris is different.”

  “How?”

  A painful look oozes upon his face as he purses his lips and a tear trickles over his cheek. He doesn’t bother to wipe it away as his jaw continues to pop.

  “She may be playing for the other side, but you are still going to great lengths to keep her safe. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, but I’m going to encourage you to find your freedom someplace else than being alone.”

  “You mean, don’t live the fucking half-assed lie that Kaci fed me? I’m here because of that fucking cunt I called my wife!”

  “So, get out…” I push, angrily. I back up from the table and take to pacing on my side of the table. “You aren’t weak. Suck it up, pretty boy and do whatever the fuck you got to do to get out of here. And then fix the problem.”

  “The problem is my father!”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I point out the obvious, “The problem has always been your father.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know, Anna!” His tearful pleas rake over my soul and render my heart bleeding for what I cannot repair. Leaning forward, he sets his elbows on the table and lowers his head. I drop my cigarette in the ashtray and ruffle my fingers through his curls.

  “Salvatore, my boy, you have to calm down,” I soothingly coax. “You cannot think when you worry.”

  “Tell me how to fix it. Tell me how the fuck to get out of this because I don’t want it. That mafia you knew then, isn’t who they are today.”

  A deafening silence passes between us as tears flow over my cheeks. I cast a side-eyed glance to find him doing the same.

  “I wish like hell he was still here,” I say, returning to my seat. My hands wrap around his briefly, but he is a Raniero, and such things are offensive. With the cigarette trembling between his fingers, he moves his to shield mine, and it is then I know he doesn’t hate me.

  “You should’ve been my grandmother…” he growls, tossing his cigarette in the tray and getting up with a focus to hurt something—most likely, himself.

  “Sit your ass back in this chair right now, Lucas Salvatore.”

  I make my way around the table as he crumbles to his knees and rocks. “You should’ve been my Nonna.”

  “Exactly,” I softly whisper, rubbing his back. “Which is why you seriously need to think about what you're doing Salvatore. And if proving a point to your father is worth staying in here much longer.”

  “Where do we go from here?” His ache is so transparent, I feel it in my bones. “Help me understand.”

  “I will answer five questions,” I calmly propose as we get up slow and return to the table. “And then I want to give you some time to think. Let things settle and clarify. I can come back, Sal. I know where you are, and I know how to drive. I can get to you.”

  “… Only five?” he asks, stubbing out his cigarette as he licks his lips. “Let’s start with the granddaddy of them all—no pun intended—” he pauses as I smirk. “Who was Chance’s father?” His expression contorts into a horrific fear. “Please don’t say he was my uncle….”

  Tucking my hair behind my ear, I quickly return it to the fold of his hands. “Chance’s father was Phillipe Kerris. I later confirmed my suspicions with a paternity test.”

  His head falls to rest upon our hands. I feel his warm breath and the rush of relief. “Thank fucking God.”

  “One brief interlude in a barn was all it took. So, be careful.”

  “Don’t I know it…” He sits up straight and seems to relax a bit. Unscrewing the water bottle, he gently asks, “Is anyone still living? Anyone at all. I need to know if there is anyone. I don’t care how insignificant they may seem. If they had a connection at all to you or my grandfather, they might be able to help me take down my father.”

  Retracting my hands, I sigh and rub my eyes. “That’s why I came to tell you my story. I'm getting older, and there are no promises. You need to know how you got here. You need to know that without your grandfather, none of this would've occurred.”

  He is unrelenting in his focus, just like Luca, as he says, “Answer the question, Anna.”

  A smile spreads over my face. “You’re so much a combination of Nonn
a and Luca. I wish you would have known him into your adulthood. All of your perceptions would be altered.”

  Looking me in the eyes, he lowers his voice with a stricter tone. “Nowala.”

  “Okay… let me think. Everyone from my Vegas days are gone.”

  “… Sally Jane?”

  “Last I heard, she disappeared from the life and retreated into the mountains of Wyoming…Montana..somewhere. You have to understand, Sally Jane was a good girl, and she didn’t know what she was getting into by sleeping with Luca.”

  “Phillipe is gone. Desirée is still alive in France, but I doubt she knows anything. Lele… I don’t know where Lele ended up. Her real name was Parvati.”

  “I know,” he says, jotting down notes. “Does she have a last name?”

  “I’m sure she does, but I don’t know it. Wilma Manley died in 1998 when I lost William. She was old as the hills, but ran Highlandale Hawthorne with her blasphemous ruler until the end.”

  A smirk soars across his lips as he glances up. “Who else?”

  “Luca was left-handed, too,” I marvel, watching him. From the way he holds the pencil to the way he thinks with his animated facial gestures, Sal reminds me of Luca. He has the same confident swagger and determined stare with those damn green eyes. Tapping the pencil, he waits as it hits me. “Mario!”

  “Of the authentic Italian deli in Sugargrove?” He makes a mockery out of it as his head shakes.

  “No, the one in Boston.”

  His eyes skirt up. “The one by Old Poppa’s house?”

  “Yes,” I excitedly say. “Mario was their kid. He came to Sugargrove to open the restaurant because Luca was trying to help him stay out of trouble.”

  “… Had he been in trouble?”

  “I know he had some run-ins with the law.”

  He snickers. The priceless white grin erupts, and he jokes, “Not unusual with this group.” He frowns for a second. “Luca never went in, did he?”

  “No,” I answer, clasping my hands. “He never ended up behind bars. I think that is everyone I can remember. Jocelyn and Cattleya are both gone. Daddy is gone. My brothers are both gone. I’m running out of time.”

  With a concerned look, he squeezes my hand. “It’s not how much time you have, but what you do with it.”

  I brush the thoughts of my eventual end away and say, “Next question.”

  “Did Luca continue the business with Iris’ grandfather?”

  “Oh, yes,” I assure, glancing over the table between us. “Keishi and Luca became terrific friends, especially when he moved to California.”

  “… Keishi moved?”

  “Yes, Keishi moved to San Francisco.”

  Cracking his knuckles, he asks, “Is he still alive?”

  “Gosh, I don’t even know. I met with him a couple of times back in the late seventies, mostly at high society functions, in passing…you know. Luca went out there to golf with him up until his death in 2005.”

  “He used to take me out to the cabin,” Sal confided with a smile. “Old Poppa was the first one to put a weapon in my hand. He gave me my first blade when I was probably four or five. I still have it at the house somewhere. He taught me to shoot—everything—from guns to bows.”

  “Because their empire was turning into something else once Cesario took it over,” I reply with a sadness. “Luca did a lot of shit, don’t get me wrong. He had some guys with girls out walking the streets. And he ran money, drugs, guns, hell—if you needed it shipped, he'd do it,” I say, knowing Sal needs everything I can give him. “Cesario started trafficking early on; Luca was so upset.” I shrug as the tears come to my eyes. “But there was nothing he could’ve done. Cesario was making the men more money and loyalty was forgotten.”

  “What about Campanelli?”

  “You really want to get in bed with those snakes?”

  Stretching his arms behind his head, he laughs. “No.”

  “I’ll tell you—the Gennaro and Campanelli families should never have gotten together. And the thing was, they didn’t need to. They each had enough resources for their own outfits. They didn’t need to partner up. I’m not even sure why it happened, but it didn’t surprise me when I heard Antonio went running to Giuseppe after Luca fired him. I think we all expected it.”

  “I could pick your brain for hours, little lady,” he admires as his eyes spark.

  “I’m aware, and I’m happy to let you do it after you process some of this,” I remind, rubbing the smooth skin on his hand. “Two more questions.”

  He flexes his jaw. “How much do you think—not know—how much do you think Iris knows about Lotus?”

  “That's a complicated question, Sal.”

  “I need to know if she knows anything about Lotus because it could be the key to changing everything for me.” He sounds like a desperate man.

  “What do you think?”

  I exhale a heavy sigh as he puts another cigarette in his lips and lets it dangle there.

  Thank God, he doesn’t have Luca’s accent.

  “I think I don’t know.”

  “Is she close with that side of the family?”

  Grabbing one of the full water bottles, I go to open it when he takes it from my hands. He pours it into the cup. “It’s not in any of the files.”

  Feeling irritated by his response, I take a drink of the water in hopes of cooling down. “That isn’t what I mean, and you know it, Salvatore. Have you talked to her about this stuff or are you just so busy getting your rocks off, you forgot to ask?”

  His hands flatten over his face concealing the rage and hurt my assessments bring. “I did what Kaci told me to do.”

  “Did you ever think to question for one-second what Kaci’s motivations might have been?”

  His hands fall as he lays them flat on the table. “I was nineteen goddamned years old, and I made some huge fucking mistakes. Can someone please forgive me?”

  “You need to forgive yourself, son,” I console, looking at the broken twenty-five-year-old young man. “You have guilt, and that’s not on the rest of us, that’s on you. I get that was five years ago, but make your amends before you’re forty. My eighteen-year-old girl made plenty of mistakes. The biggest one was not running off with Luca when he asked me to. I could have saved myself twenty years of heartache with one quick yes.”

  “… You want me to say yes?”

  “I want you to figure out how in the hell to get out of this mess,” I say, making the case I hoped to before starting all of this, “before you’re walking with a cane.”

  “Better to whip a girl with.” He winks.

  “Time is of the essence. Don’t waste it hiding behind something you are not. And only you can decide who you are. What is your biggest mistake?”

  “Trusting Kaci,” he mumbles, lighting the smoke. On the exhale, he says, “Or letting Iris leave, one or the other.”

  “You love her.”

  With a bite to his lip, he confesses, “More than words.”

  “Then figure out how to get out of this mess. And whose ass you are going to be indebted to. Take care of the shit, Sal. Or you are going to end up exactly like Luca and me.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  Rising, I lose my temper and yell, “All of that and you are going to have the nerve to tell me it was easy?”

  “Not your whole life,” he eases, bringing me down a notch. “Trying to decide whose ass I’m wiping.”

  With my finger tucked under my chin, I subtly remark, “Who’s got the best ass?”

  The snarl turns up as he finally cracks and gives me what I crave—the full sexy as fuck devious grin. “… You want the answer to that?”

  Blushing, I laugh hysterically. “You are too much!”

  “Did you love him?”

  I give a teasing scowl as I playfully nip, “Is this your fifth question?”

  Tilting back in his chair, he snorts. “Probably not.”

  “I will always love Luca,” I say,
threatening to cry again. “But you shouldn’t strive to emulate us.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if I’m chasing a ghost.”

  “In Kaci?”

  He shakes his head. “No, Iris.”

  “The absolute worst case is you make a wrong move and lose the hand.”

  “No,” he reflectively says. “The absolute worst is the Queen not making it to the end. Luca did one thing very right. And I’m the lucky son of a bitch getting the honor of her royal presence.”

  “Ohhhhh,” I moan as I close my eyes. “Sometimes you Raniero’s have a way of saying exactly what you mean.”

  “It’s a curse.”

  “No, Lucas,” I whisper, choking up as I say his name. “It is a blessing.”

  “How is this?” he asks with a roll of his neck. “I’m going to destroy my father.”

  “You are going to need a seat at the big boy table then.”

  “Then someone best get the fuck out of my way because I’m coming,” he growls, standing up and sliding across the table to my side. “And it’s going to be a beautiful fucking day when I get there.”

  Taking my fingers, Sal respectfully kisses the top of my hand as he lowers to his knee. His eyes study the diamond necklace on me, and he brings his fingers up to run along the gems. “… Was I half as good as him?”

  “Oh, darling,” I boast, stroking his cheek. Pulling Luca’s rosary out of my pocket, I place it in his palm as he serves up a suggestive wink. “You’re so much better. Being present grabs you bonus points. But be careful who you give your hands to.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he replies with a smirk. “Dance with me, Little Butterfly?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  In the middle of the cold, dimly lit room, I sank into the arms of Luca’s grandson as we danced and I prayed for him to push further than we ever did.

  I don’t want him to have a seat at the table; I want him to own the whole fucking thing. Probably more than anyone, I knew the hell waiting for him on the other side.

  “You’re going to hate me. Or at least curse my name. But someone needs to make you show your teeth, Sal.”