Authors: Leigh Ann Lunsford
Tags: #General Fiction
Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2)
Copyright © 2014 by Leigh Ann Lunsford
by
Leigh Ann Lunsford
As always, John and Evan, for their unwavering support, laughs, and many many insanity moments.
Love you, both.
Copyright © 2014 by Leigh Ann Lunsford
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design by Kristen Karwan
Edited by Chelsea Kuhel (
www.madisonseidler.com
)
Proofread by Laura Murphy
ISBN: 978-1517726478
1517726476
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Playlist
Acknowledgements
Author Bio
“
And
ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
Being sorry is the highest act of selfishness, seeing value only after discarding it.
Our Ending
Dakota
Sister.
Mother.
Grandparents.
Mob.
Friends.
All those words are synonymous with deceit in my mind. The one other common denominator in the flurry of words . . . Bianca Rose Agosto. She claimed my heart and played games with my mind, as I did hers. We fooled ourselves into believing this wasn’t a relationship. Lip service . . . if we repeated it enough, maybe we would fool ourselves into trusting it.
Bianca is the sister of my best friend, Bronson. Princess of the Boss, Joseph Agosto. Their family ran Indian Shores, and if you wanted to be part of the prestige, the money, the power . . . you joined the
familia
. It wasn’t what I wanted for myself, but it didn’t stop me from falling in love with her and making Bronson the brother I’d craved.
Despite the warnings from my
‘parents’
to keep my distance, I didn’t. I forged ahead and became attached. Callie Locati was an added bonus and all four of us were inseparable. It wasn’t always like that. For a while, Bronson and I did our own thing, but enduring tragedy after tragedy in my life pushed me towards them. While Bronson was dealing with the life-altering decision of claiming Callie, I lost my champion. My
sister
. My other best friend.
I didn’t grow up in the slums, but my home wasn’t of the same caliber as the Agosto’s, either. My parents were older than normal for most of my friends . . . but my sister was present, spurring my passion and encouraging me to follow my dreams. Her constant appearance at my side and in mind was the forefront of the man I am today.
I had just confronted Bianca, which was not a pleasant task. She had an arsenal in her razor sharp tongue. She’d been through so much this past year, and she had always turned to me. I was tired of her denying the inevitable. She never allowed herself to be defenseless with me, always skirting around what I wanted to hear. I just wanted her to tell me she wanted me.
Just me.
We tried to date other people, the outcome was the same. In each other’s bed. Nobody else was able to give us what we gave one another. Passion. Honesty. In your face, once in a lifetime . . . LOVE.
Waiting not so patiently for her to give me an answer to my ultimatum, I ripped open the letter that had been delivered to me. I had been busy chasing her ass around campus and had forgotten its existence. After finishing Basic Agent Training (BAT) to become a DEA agent, I’d called in a favor. A special request. My answers were just at my fingertips.
The words jumbled together. The paper became my enemy. My hands shook as I tried to decipher the meaning of what I was reading. My entire life had been a lie. My existence, a farce. Everything I grew up believing was ripped from me in the explanation I read. My eyes honed in on one name. Agosto. The people who had taken me in were the same people who had ended my family.
I immediately grabbed the first bottle I could find, foregoing the glass. I read, re-read, and memorized the facts of the case. It was clear-cut. Black and white. Concise. Nothing amiss in it, factual . . . yet I longed for it to be a lie. I relived the day my world shattered, the questions coming more quickly than the answers. None of it made sense.
I took a cab to her dorm, needing to confront her, make her hurt. She needed to feel exactly what I was. Her family, ergo she, stood for this, and I had overlooked it all these years. I knew her hands, her voice, her love was what was going to repair me, and that added to my pissed off state. Still reeling from Callie’s betrayal, I had another dose of bullshit to add to our plate.
I didn’t bother knocking. I just stumbled through her door. I noticed the roses I had brought her this morning on her nightstand with a photo of us taken last year. Her smile could illuminate the darkest of rooms; it had shed so much joy on my world.
“Dakota,” I heard. I glanced to the other side of her dorm room and saw her roommate. My eyes raked over her body, hidden by a miniscule towel that didn’t cover her ass. My head swiveled back to study the photo, my fingers gripping the letter in my pocket. I detonated, obliterating everything in my wake . . . most of all, abolishing my future with Bianca. In one moment I annihilated everything that meant anything to me.
Memories.
Futures.
Promised words.
All gone.
I didn’t stop to think about consequences. I didn’t care. That’s a lie . . . I cared too much and needed to shut it off.
The voices.
The aching.
The recollections.
I needed them all depleted.
I didn’t stop when I heard the traumatized scream from Bianca. I continued extinguishing her faith in me. Mine already departed.
I didn’t go after her when she ran from the room. Not her usual style. I was expecting rage, anger, a full-blown temper tantrum.
I didn’t do the one thing I swore to do.
I swore I wouldn’t hurt her.
I swore I would value her above all others.
I didn’t do any of the things I should have.
Tonight of all nights I had to purge the truth, share with Bronson the failure I was. Telling him wasn’t as hard as remembering her face, the anguish coursing through her. I welcome his blows . . . I yearn for them. Punishment for the way I treated her, pain for the misery I’ve put her through. I had come to share the truth and even sprawled on the floor of Bronson’s apartment, blood rushing from my nose and staring up at a face of fury, I didn’t relent.
It doesn’t matter.
I didn’t have Bianca, and that was the lowest I could go.
Friendship at first sight, like love at first sight, is said to be the only truth.
Our Beginning
Bianca
Holy shit! Who is the hot guy in the ring with my brother? I’ve been to the gym with Bronson a number of times, but I’ve never seen him before. I rip my hair out of its ponytail, fluffing it as best I can. Putting on lip-gloss is a challenge without a mirror, but doable … I’m intrigued . . . enough to let Bronson take his time without my complaints. This time. Stepping into his line of sight, I wave my hands to catch his attention, but his focus doesn’t waver. Sparring at the gym for him is like yoga to soccer moms . . . the Holy Grail. However, the guy I’m perusing looks over, and before I can warn him, he gets a punch to the side of his face.
“Damn it, Dakota. You’ve got to block your opponent.” Bronson is short-tempered today. Hmmm . . . he has a name.
I see Dakota nod towards me, and Bronson follows his direction. “What, Binks?”
Ugh. He had to use the nickname I hate. He and Callie love to torment me with that. “I was just wondering how much longer?”
“I’m done. Let me just wrap up.” Damn.
“No rush. I can wait for a little while. Callie isn’t coming over until after dinner.” He narrows his eyes at me, his sight going from Dakota to me, and sneers.
“Oh no, sister dear. I’m through here. Same as you.” I know he’s warning me off. Not going to happen. I’m a big girl; I don’t heed his unspoken advice or his permission.
“I’m Bianca.” I turn my attention to Dakota. “Bronson’s manners are horrendous.”
“Dakota Hyatt.” He extends his hand for me to shake. I feel his rough and callused palm. A foreign sensation courses through me. I shiver from the goose bumps forming across my arms and take a step back. Whoa, what was that? I look up just in time to see his smirk as he tries to cover it with a wink.
“That’s my
little
sister, man.” Bronson steps in front of me, blocking our path of communication.
“By a whole eighteen months.” I snarl at him. He takes this shit too far sometimes.
“Go change, Bianca. Let Callie know we’ll pick her up on the way home.” He doesn’t look at me, his focus still on Dakota. I’ve lost this battle, but any good soldier knows you won’t go undefeated while preparing for war. Game on, brother. He doesn’t realize he just issued a challenge. One I won’t back down from.