[smg id=31099 type=normal align=center width=150] (7 page)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” my father shouts over Giovanni and Carlo. “What the hell is going on here?”

“They fucked up,” Giovanni declares, that same self-righteous tone renouncing sanity.

“What?” My father looks widely around and stops on me as Enzo finishes cleaning me up. “Amelia, what the hell did you do?”

“What did I do?” I quip, finding the disbelief dizzying. “What about what you did?” I ask and watch him. “You sent me in there only to nearly have me taken by Carmello because you were underpaying him. If it wasn’t for Zane, I’d have been the perfect consolation.”

“So, do we have the money and diamonds?” my father questions, ignorant of all he’s just been told.

“Of course, why would I expect you to care?” I ask him rhetorically, pushing Enzo away. “It’s all about the money with you.”

“I do care,” he says, not much conviction to his tone.

“Well, prove it!” I exclaim desperately trying to keep my grip on my emotions. “If it wasn’t for Zane’s quick actions, I dread to think what sort of life I’d be living as a result of
your
greed. But don’t worry, you’re letting a good one into the family.”

“She’s right. Papà, you should have seen him,” Carlo begins with the retelling. “He didn’t even think. Carmello disrespected him and Amelia, and the next thing I knew, Carmello was on his knees and Zane was holding a bloodied hammer.”

“A hammer?” my father pushes for more answers.

“I think I damaged his jaw, sir,” Zane explains, rubbing his own jaw as if in sympathy.

“Think?” Carlo asked aghast. “Zane, you brought the bastardo to his knees and had him cowering. No one has ever done that to a man of Carmello’s stature.”

“I didn’t know,” Zane gasps, looking at Carlo and me. I see the annoyance that we didn’t forewarn him, but had he known, he wouldn’t have gone into the house.

“Maybe that’s your secret,” my father happily notes. “You are invariably in the dark to those we interact with, so maybe that’s the trick with you, Maverick. It gives you an edge and that’s what you need. If you can protect my fortune and my daughter without a care or fear then maybe you’re a treasure I should invest in.”

“You forgot to tell him that he has a bounty on his head now” Giovanni’s comment is brought forward with an ounce of arrogance and I can hear a hint of glee I can hear. He’s happy that Zane’s made a name for himself – it makes him in danger. “Like all of us, he’s marked. Carmello won’t forget him.”

I can’t take anymore and I leave the room. The thought is sickening. I don’t want to hear of the bounty on Zane ever again. I lived that once and it was crippling. I cannot believe this time Zane’s own actions have a hefty price on his own head. I hear Zane excuse himself and I hasten my speed, but it’s not enough to outrun him. He grabs me when I reach the stairs, spinning me around to face him.

“I’m not impressed with your move back there,” I comment, looking down briefly at the blood splatters on his shirt. It’s all I know to say.

Zane sighs in resignation. “I didn’t think you were, but I have to prove myself.”

“You don’t know the type of men you’re dealing with,” I quip, powerfully reminding him what he’s truly preparing himself to dabble in. “They’re not like the bad guys you’ve spent years putting away. These ones will kill you and not give a second thought to who’s left behind in your wake.”

“I have the battle scars to remind me of that,” Zane counters dryly, remembrance of his shooting hitting hard. “I have to make my mark, and I was not prepared for him to objectify you in front of me. Sorry, Amelia, you might not like it, but when a man threatens to do anything like that to you, I will not hesitate to lash out. He should just be lucky it was a smaller hammer than I wished it was.”

I laugh at the little sarcastic sentiment he’s trying to cut the air with and find myself reveling in this moment of solitude. It’s just that I could be fooled that we aren’t what we are if it wasn’t for the blood splatter across his crisp white shirt. So, I sigh as I come back down to Earth and look up at his bright eyes.

"I appreciate what you did, Zane," I murmur, my fingers playing with the blood-stained collar. Bashfully, I raise my gaze to look up at him. "But you're doing this all wrong. I don't want you here to win me over."

"But it's the only way we get a chance," he tells me; desperation lashes his last comment passionately.

I know he's right. I know he's wholeheartedly and without any reasonable doubt telling the truth. This is our only chance, but between forgiving, forgetting, and worrying about the man this will create of him, I cannot give myself to him.

Back at Carmello's, he proved that he would do this with or without my consent. He is here to give up everything to win me back, but still there is a resounding piece in me that just can't let me have him wholly. It causes a throb in my heart, a stark reminder of what he did to me before – twice. It's telling me not to trust him with my heart because my heart barely survived either past encounter with Zane.

"You're overthinking things," he tells me. He's speaking in soft tones, and he's offering a soft glower. "Just give into what you're feeling. I'm here and I'm here to stay. I will even commit to having the Abbiati wrath if I ever hurt you," he jokes, trying to push for a smile.

Which I give him.

"Zane, you're already going to feel the Abbiati wrath for the last two times you left me. You think it's going to be easy for you to join us here? It's going to be harder for you to be one of us with your track record," I ask, trying to make myself sound more scathing and meaner just for effect.

"And I'll do whatever it'll take," he counters, not daring to back down from his argument or me.

"And I guess you'll expect me to kiss every war wound better? I ask, rhetorically and fiddle with the collar on his shirt again. "Because I won't. You can kiss your own ass." I push him away to leave, heading up to stairs quickly.

"Dammit," he grunts from behind me. "You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman!"

"I thought you already knew that was my plan?" I ask, tossing the question over my shoulder as I leave him at the bottom of the stairs. This is counterproductive; if I don't leave, I might regret my actions.

"Don't you dare fucking walk away," Zane growls, following me up a few steps. “I'm trying my all with you, Amelia, but you keep on shutting me down." His tone has changed him, and anger is beseeching him. "If I was more like Lorenzo, would you want me? If I was already in the family, would I have a fighting chance?"

I stop, bristling at the use of Lorenzo against me. Slowly, I turn and race down the stairs. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm scared of the man you'll become from loving me and being in this family. I'm scared of the victim you'll become and I'm scared you'll turn around one day and resent me for all you did for me. So, I'm sorry if I can't just fall into your arms and take the good life. The good life doesn't exist for people like me."

"But it does," he replies, trying to defuse my argument with question.

"No," I tell him fiercely. "It does not. Not after everything I've done. I certainly do not deserve to love you enough to pull you down with me. So become a part of this family if that's what you want, but don't expect me to support it."

“Sorry to interrupt,” Enzo interjects, and I welcome it. The sooner this conversation is over, the better. “But we’re thinking of going out to let off some steam,” Enzo announces. It’s a very good idea. I can almost taste the alcohol dance upon my taste buds. “You both look like you could use a stiff drink.”

I’m just agreeing to get alcohol.

“Amelia,” Zane says as he grabs my hand, preventing me from entering the bar with Enzo and Manuel. The other car hasn’t arrived yet, which tells me Giovanni is still holding the other guys up. “Can we talk about earlier?”

“What’s to talk about?” I ask, crossing my arms just below my breasts. I watch him pull at his collar as he eyes my ample breasts. I roll my eyes and narrow my gaze. “You proved how much you want to be part of this family. That’s kudos to you.”

“Not about that,” he counters, shaking his head. “Us. I want to talk about us.”

“What is there to talk about that we haven’t already?” I ask him, keeping bitterness to my tone for effect. “There isn’t an us. You did that, Zane, not me. So, please forgive me when I say I cannot get past it because you’re a fucking idiot.”

“I deserve that, I do,” he remarks, nodding as he feels the comment hit him. “I just need to know why you aren’t even trying to give me a chance here. I’m trying everything to show you I’m here, finally.”

“Right, want me to tell you why I’m still so hung up over everything?” I ask, and he nods. I take a deep breath, fill my lungs, and ready myself upon my exhale. "I came to your place that night to tell you that I wanted to run away with you," I begin to tell him. "I wanted to pack up and leave to start a new life; one where I wouldn't have to do things like I have, one where I could just be happy with you. But you stole that chance away, and I can't forgive you for it. Everything I had dreamed of shattered, Zane, and you were the culprit. But when I left, I was so enraged, so lost, so
broken
, I came home, got my gun, and went for my father. He was the main person who had torn you away from me again, so if he was gone from the equation, I would have you back, but I only carried on losing that night. I lost you, lost my family, and I lost myself. And the worst part is that I don't deserve any of it back." I steel my emotions, trying not to unravel before we enter the club. “So, I won’t give in because I can’t have you now. I’m past that, and I cannot drag you any more into this.” I don’t allow him the chance to argue, and when the second car pulls up and Giovanni gets out arguing with Carlo, I use it as my cue to leave. “We are what we are,” I tell him walking away. “We stand no chance now.”

“Bella!” Lorenzo calls out the moment he’s out of the car.

I turn to look at him, noticing that Zane has taken a stiffened stance, blocking the man from moving toward me. Lorenzo immediately tries to side step him, but Zane matches him; showmanship of his territorial behavior. I roll my eyes, not willing to attend to the show of this level of male testosterone. I leave them both to it. I cannot and will not give Lorenzo any semblance of hope that I want him.

As I walk toward the bar, I hope he doesn’t wholly listen to my words. I want him to fight; I want him to prove his mistakes are mistakes. He follows me but doesn’t talk again. When I enter the bar, I head straight to Enzo as he waits to be served. I want the strongest, largest drink this place has to offer.

“Get me a double scotch on the rocks,” I order and give him a small smile.

Enzo gives me a worrisome glare but nods. “Go grab the large booth over there. I’ll bring the drinks and send everyone over.”

“Okay,” I whisper and slip away from the bar, taking Manuel’s hand in mine and taking him with me. “We haven’t had time to talk much.”

“I know,” he throws his remark back at me.

“How are things?” I ask as we make it to the booth and I slip in. “You don’t seem so happy anymore, Manuel.”

“Nor do you,” he quips with a small smile. “I always knew it was going to be hard being in our family. I just made it harder.”

“I will try everything to make it easier for you,” I vow.

“I know.” He looks at me, his big blue eyes full of wonder and awe, and I wonder what has him looking at me so intently. “I know what you did for me, Amelia,” he begins and smiles. “Carlo told me that you gave up your chance to leave for me to leave.”

“I kind of screwed that up with what I did, though.” I speak apologetically, unable to look at him. I tried so hard only to fail.

“It doesn’t matter. You chose to give up your chance to give me a real life,” he tells me and leans in. “Thank you for wanting me to have a life like Bruno.”

“I still do,” I tell him and smile, rubbing my hands together as the rest of the boys come over with the drinks.

Everyone takes a seat, and I take my drink. I’ve become more inclined to neck harsher liquor and usually, if it’s not money I’ve spent, practically inhale expensive alcohol just out of chagrin. Especially where Alberto was concerned after a long day of working under his orders because I knew how much he loved his liquor cabinet and he quickly learned how much I loved what was in it.

I’m on my second gulp, when I gaze out at the bar and stop when I see Bruno come in with Allana, their hands entwined with one another, their body language so united it’s overwhelming. I had no idea he was coming tonight, and I never realized how much I missed him until just now.

“Bruno!” Carlo calls out, standing up from his seat at the edge of the booth.

He stops, his eyes staring straight at me. I gulp, a blush racing up my chest and neck to hit my cheeks in vibrant bursts of crimsons and pinks. He clearly didn’t know I was home. I see his mouth fall open in shock before a smile takes over, and he rushes over. I feel impish sitting in the middle of the booth, surrounded by our family and Bruno just staring at me.

“And why wasn’t I let in on this little beauty’s homecoming?” Bruno asks as he watches me intently.

“We wanted to surprise you,” Enzo declares with a smile, standing to give his brother a hug and give Allana a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go and grab some more drinks.”

“I could murder a
large
glass of white wine right now,” Allana gushes and giggles. “Please.”

“First night out in a while, eh?” Enzo jokes, and she nods. “I’ll be right back. Bruno, you want a beer?”

“Yeah, whatever you’re drinking, Enz,” Bruno replies, still fixated on me.

“I’m taking that as my opportunity to fuck off,” Giovanni announces and stands to leave.

Lorenzo goes with Enzo and Carlo to get a drink, Zane disappears without explanation while Giovanni slinks off to a table of women, and Bruno takes the opportunity to sit opposite of Manuel. The moment he pushes his way toward me, he envelops me into a tight hug and he clings without showing signs of letting go.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he says, whispering into my ear over the music. “So have the kids.”

I hold back just as tightly. “I missed you, too.”

“How long have you been back?”

“Only since yesterday,” I whisper, offering a small smile.

“And already injured?” he asks cocking a brow after noticing the slender cut to my neck.

“Things never change,” I try to be sarcastic and laugh, but he can tell I’m holding a lot back. “Okay, things do change,” I admit solemnly. “Zane’s pledging to be one of us.”

“Is he stupid?” Bruno asks harshly.

“He loves me,” I reply and try in vain to get my voice to sound stronger. “Or so he says but becoming part of the Dio Lavoro just sounds so stupid.”

“Where is he now?”

I look to see if he’s gone to the bar but fail to spot him, so I scan the room and find him standing in the middle of the dance floor with a stranger. My heart bottoms out, and I feel a desolation run through me like ice-cold water.

“I guess his actions don’t prove that,” I comment and look away from the sight. I grab my drink and down it and love the burn that takes over from the coldness that’s hit me. I slam my glass down and loathe my traitorous heart.

“He’s a stupid man, honey,” Allana offers her input and gives me a reassuring smile. “So, want to tell me why pulling a gun on your father was a good idea?”

“I’m an impulsive bitch when I want to be,” I say, knowing that they have no idea why I did what I did. To them, I just left their life without cause. “I just wanted all the lies to stop.”

“You know, Carlo did start the proceedings for you to get out, Amelia. You can have a life like Allana and I do.” Bruno takes my hand, offering me a comforting hold. “Both of you can get out.”

“I’m too deep,” I whisper, and I see the sober look Bruno has me fixed with. “There’s too much bloodshed now, Bruno. Alberto made sure of that.”

“That fucking man,” he growls with intense hatred. “One day he will get what he is owed, and it isn’t going to be fucking pretty.”

“Don’t look so serious!” Enzo declares as he comes over with a tray of drinks. “Alcohol’s here!” He places it down and then stands back to take a seat. “Bruno, you remember Lorenzo Mancini from when we were kids, right?”

“I don’t remember him looking like that,” Bruno comments and reaches out to shake Lorenzo’s hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” Lorenzo replies, nodding his head with a hello. “And who’s this beautiful lady?”

Bruno, having seen the look on Lorenzo’s face, puts his arm around Allana’s shoulder, possessively showing whose woman she is. I feel jealousy ripple as I watch him exude enough power to make Lorenzo heed, but not make Allana feel objectified.

“This is my wife, Allana. Baby, Lorenzo lives back in our home country of Amalfi Coast.”

“Nice to meet you,” Allana says politely, but continues to allow Bruno to keep her where he wants her. “What’s brought you over here?”

“Amelia,” he says looking at me. “She’s stolen my heart while living with us.”

“Well, pal, watch yourself. The others might allow you to do what you want with her, but I’m pretty protective of this girl here,” he remarks fiercely, shooting me a wink.

Lorenzo takes a seat on the far side of the table after that and we all slip into a gentle ease of drinking and joking. I’m more inclined to drink than talk, but it’s a nice change to have us all in one place –
well, almost
.

When Bruno decides to take Allana dancing, Lorenzo being taken by Giovanni to meet girls and Enzo dancing with a redhead I’m less than familiar with, I’m left to find Carlo and Manuel deciding to go and grab more drinks. I’m asked if I’ll be okay on my own and I nod. I don’t mind at all. Well, I don’t until I let myself looking at Zane and fucking regret it. I hate myself for looking. I see the look of pure arousal on his face and jealousy punches through my heart. He’s been with the same girl, laughing, joking, dancing, touching, groping all evening. With everyone around me, it was easy to forget about him, but now I’m stuck staring at him. And the brunette in his arms looks so content and perfect right where she is.

She'll be everything I never will be – innocent, perfect, normal. She'll be everything that Zane needs. And as I watch her dance with him, her movements full of fluidity as his hands chase over her slender figure, I realize she has a free pass to becoming anything she wishes, and at twenty-four, I've already met my defamation. As the burn of envy scorches higher than my burn of alcohol, I realize I have to get out. The music pumps in overbearing beats and treble, and I find it pounds through my head as I'm met with my own sobriety. My jealousy has burnt through my alcohol level and diminished it quickly from my senses just so I can feel every moment of the scene torturing me.

I vie for a man I never want to touch because I never want to taint him. I love a man who gave up his life and his morals for me and admitted himself to corruption and still I can't bear to let him near me. I allow jealousy and want to mingle together, each eating me away in unbelievable measures and I still sit on the sidelines wishing I was the normal brunette grinding against him.

In another world, even another life, we might be able to live out our happily ever after, but in this reality, we aren't meant to be more than we are. We've been torn apart twice, tested by death, and we never survived. Why should our third time work a charm?

Feeling a crushing weight on my chest, I find my breathing become a heave as all my emotions run wild. The tears start and I’m pleased no one is here to stop me from leaving. I have to run because, if I don’t, this could well be a sight that kills me.

I take my clutch bag, clench it to my chest, and weave through the crowds, ignoring every call of my name I hear. I just need to make it home before I’m emotionally crippled and everyone sees the facade I’ve worn is just all a perfectly woven lie.

“Bella!”

I halt on the stop, incensed by that nickname as Lorenzo stands before me, stopping me from getting what I desire. I’m halfway between the table I just escaped from and the door I want to escape through. All I want is to get lost in the night, break away from my every emotion and just live a moment in my life without feeling, without emotions, without my wayward heart yelling at me with every single I wish I could have and know I can’t.

He reaches out to touch me and I lash out.

“Just leave me alone!” I scream at him, slamming my flat palms into his chest. “I don’t love you, Lorenzo! So just leave me the hell alone!”

It’s with that I take off again, ignoring him to just seek glorious freedom. When I manage it, I think I’ve caught my lucky break, but even I’m not stupid enough to believe in that idea. I make it with ease into the foyer, when I’m stopped again.