5. Summer
Summer
“When were you planning on telling me you had to rescue and resuscitate a kid at that birthday party last week?”
Gabi’s pissed-off tone had me grimacing.
Slowly, I turned around to face my best friend and roommate. “I didn’t want you to freak out, okay?”
She huffed, placing a hand to her forehead. “Freak out? Why on earth do you think I might freak out?” There was a pause before she shouted, “Oh, I know! Because it was my name you gave at the door! And it was my father who got a call when shit hit the fan!”
Okay, maybe she had a point.
“Look, I’m sorry. I just figured since everything worked out fine in the end, it didn’t bear mentioning.” That, and I was hoping to avoid a moment such as this.
“Summer . . .” Gabi drew my name out so slowly it gave me pause.
For some reason, an icy tendril of dread rolled down my spine. “Yeah?”
Letting out a deep exhale, she begged, “Please, please, please tell me my father heard wrong, and you didn’t go off on Matteo Bellini.”
“Uh, I don’t know who that is, but I sure gave that little girl’s father a piece of my mind. The man’s daughter could have died, and it would have been due to his own negligence.”
“Oh my God.” She reached blindly for the couch before collapsing onto it. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
I eyed her reaction quizzically. “Clearly not, so why don’t you fill me in?”
A flicker of fear flashed in her eyes. Swallowing, Gabi explained, “He’s the head of the Bellini Family.”
Gabi’s mom’s maiden name was Bellini. When she’d told me that early in our friendship, it stuck with me because I thought it was kinda cool to carry a name after a fun, fruity cocktail.
But what she was saying didn’t make sense.
When I thought of the head of a family, I imagined a patriarch, the most senior male, like a grandfather.
But the man I’d chewed out over his lack of pool safety was definitely not old enough to be anyone’s grandpa.
He couldn’t have been more than thirty, looking hot as shit in that designer suit that was totally out of place at a child’s birthday party.
When I remained silent, she elaborated, “It’s a crime family, Summer.”
My mouth dropped open. “You mean, like the mafia?”
“Not like the mafia. They are the mafia. At least the one running Chicago.”
A disbelieving exhale flew past my lips. “Your family is mafia? And you’re just telling me now?”
Gabi rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we go out of our way to broadcast it. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.”
My mind raced as I tried to process this information. “So, your parents are criminals?”
She sighed. “My mom was born into it, and it’s not exactly like they let the women get their hands dirty.
They’re taught to look pretty and marry whom their fathers tell them.
It’s all about keeping power within a tight-knit group.
” The tiniest hint of a smile crept onto her lips.
“Dad joined up as a teenager. He was a foot soldier who caught a lucky break when my mom fell in love with him, and their marriage came with a hefty promotion. My nonno couldn’t be seen to have his daughter married to a low-level grunt. ”
The room began to spin, so I dropped onto the closest kitchen chair. Dropping my head between my knees, I focused on dragging in deep breaths so I didn’t pass out.
When I recovered enough that the darkness creeping into the edges of my vision receded, I said, “Let me get this straight. The mafia is a real thing, and your family’s involved?”
“Yes.” Gabi nodded.
“And that birthday party I lifeguarded for was a mafia birthday party?”
“Right again,” she confirmed.
“And this Matteo guy, whom I tore a new asshole, is the head honcho in charge? The one who can issue a death warrant with the flick of his wrist?”
Her face twisted into a grimace. “Pretty much.”
“Oh my God,” I groaned, both hands flying up to my mouth as the truth sank in. “On a scale of one to ten, how fucked am I?”
Gabi tilted her head from side to side. “Normally, I’d say a ten, but—” Her words were cut off by my muffled scream. “ But you are in a unique situation.”
“Unique, how?”
“Well . . . for starters, you single-handedly saved his daughter’s life. And if there’s one thing that twenty-two years in this family has taught me, it’s that he now owes you a debt, which we take very seriously.”
Suddenly, I was hit with a flashback to that day. The suit-wearing hottie I now knew was a stone-cold killer mentioned something about a debt.
Then the crowd said . . .
“Debts must always be paid,” I whispered.
“Bingo. It’s kinda the family motto. In reality, it’s an unbreakable rule. You incur a debt, you have to repay it.”
Standing, I shook my head. “The only thing I want is for him to forget the whole thing ever happened and to drop off the mafia’s radar. Can that be my repayment?”
Gabi scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, that’s not how this works. It’s not like you saw him drop his wallet and chased him down to return it. This is serious.” She widened her eyes. “Life and death kinda serious.”
My voice grew weak. “I was just doing my job.”
“I know.” She gave me a sad smile. “And I’m really sorry I got you tangled up in this.”
I scoffed. “You and me both.”
“But I need you to promise me one thing.”
Tilting my face toward the ceiling, I breathed out, “Oh God, what now?”
“You can’t tell anyone about this.”
There was no containing my snort. “Who am I gonna tell? Jimmy, down at the diner, who abuses our offer of unlimited coffee refills so he can sit in a booth during my entire shift and squeeze my ass?”
“Right,” she agreed. “I just had to put it out there, is all.”
“I’m not looking for any trouble,” I promised.
Though, apparently, it was too little, too late for that.
When a piece of mail arrived from the bank that issued my student loans, my stomach bottomed out. The grace period ended two months ago, and I’d missed both payments since.
What did they expect me to do? Pay the loan instead of rent? Would they rather I be homeless and hungry? Because that’s what I would be if I prioritized chipping away at that six-figure debt with the meager funds earned by working at the diner.
It’s not like I wasn’t trying to get a better job.
A degree in communications offered a wide variety of career paths to choose from.
I’d submitted applications to a PR firm, a publishing house, and several other local businesses that were seeking either social media managers or entry-level human resources employees.
I wasn’t picky. Hell, I was so desperate that I would have happily taken the first job offered. Anything was better than what I was doing now.
But not a single place where I applied even called to set up an interview. They all sent a generic rejection email saying I wasn’t qualified. According to them, my degree wasn’t enough. They wanted someone with experience.
How the fuck was anyone supposed to gain experience if no one was willing to give them a job without it? Seemed like a catch-22.
Nauseous, I opened the envelope, expecting some pretentiously worded reprimand for being past due, accompanied by a threat of what would happen if I didn’t submit payment immediately.
Instead, four words printed in bold text stood out on the page.
Loan Paid in Full.
What in the world?
It took a full minute for it to sink in what that meant. Then my sharp gasp split the air.
I knew with absolute certainty that I hadn’t paid off this loan. Shit, if I had two hundred grand just lying around, I wouldn’t be living in this shithole apartment, eating ramen and canned soup for dinner most nights.
So, who did?
“Hey!” Gabi’s chirped greeting had my head whipping up.
“Uh, hey,” I mumbled.
Ditching her keys on the kitchen table, she cocked her head to the side as she took a seat opposite me. “What’s with the resting bitch face?”
Wordlessly, I handed over the letter from the bank.
Dark eyes scanned the words before growing comically large. “Holy shit, Summer. This is amazing!”
I snatched the paper back, grumbling, “Would be more amazing if I knew who did this.”
Gabi huffed out a laugh. “You seriously can’t figure it out? It’s so obvious.”
“What is?” I snapped. “Because I stopped believing in the fairy tale that my sperm donor was going to magically show up and rescue me from the trailer park a long, long time ago.”
She cringed. “Not what I was thinking, but nice to know you’ve still got daddy issues after all this time.”
Sighing, I slumped in my chair. “Come on, Gabs. I don’t know anyone who’s got this kind of cash to spare.”
A sharp snap rang out before she pointed a finger at me. “And that’s where you’d be wrong.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” I folded both arms over my chest.
“Literally paying off your debt is a little on the nose. Thought he would have been a little more creative than that,” Gabi mused to herself.
“Who?” I demanded, my voice rising in frustration.
“Matteo, duh.”
Swallowing, I licked my lips. “You’re saying a mob boss paid off my student loans?”
“I mean, that would have been my guess, even if there wasn’t a note at the very bottom of the paperwork that states he did.”
The paper wobbled in my grasp as my hands began to shake. My eyes dropped to the printed text, and just like Gabi said, there was a footnote that listed Matteo Bellini as my far-too-generous benefactor.
“But I was only doing my job. Th-this is too much. I can’t accept it.”
My best friend rolled her eyes. “You can and you should. You saved his daughter’s life, remember? Technically, he got off cheap because you can’t exactly put a price on that.”
Eyes bulging, I screeched, “This is getting off cheap ?”
She shrugged, unbothered. “Dude’s loaded.”
“I don’t want his blood money.”
Gabi leveled me with a look of pure annoyance.
“It’s the 21 st century, Summer. It’s not like they’re shaking down shop owners for ‘protection.’ Sure, some of their pursuits aren’t exactly above board, but Matteo is the CEO of Bellini Real Estate, which I can assure you is one-hundred-percent legit. ”
Guess that explained the suit.
I wonder if Mr. Hot Daddy CEO gives out spankings.
Jesus Christ, Summer. One minute, you’re all “I can’t take his money,” the next, you’re panting over the idea of being put over his knee.
Yeah, but he’s the ultimate bad boy. Like, the baddest bad guy of them all.
Oh my God. Can you hear yourself right now? He’s dangerous. Stay far, far away.
“Tell me where I can find him,” I blurted, ignoring the angel on my shoulder who warned this mafia man was trouble.
Gabi’s eyebrows shot high on her forehead. “And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to drag my ass downtown and set up camp inside whatever skyscraper he surely holds an office in until he agrees to speak with me. I’d prefer to avoid another public scene, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sure, makes total sense. I’ve never even met the man—who is literally my mother’s cousin—in person before, but you’re just gonna waltz up to his house to look a gift horse in the mouth.
” Sarcasm colored her words. “Summer, if you wanted to pretend this never happened, here’s your chance.
In his mind, the debt is settled. There’s no reason for you to ever interact again. ”
On some level, I knew she was right. This was my get out of jail free card. I should take it and run. But then there was the part of me who’d grown up on welfare and food stamps, and I was just so goddamn sick of accepting handouts all the time.
“Which one’s it gonna be? You gonna give me his home address, or am I making a fool of myself in some fancy real estate office?”
“Your sense of self-preservation is shit, you know that?” Gabi groaned.
“The address,” I pressed, not backing down.
After a dramatic sigh, she huffed out, “Fine. I’ll send it to your phone, but I just wanna say out loud that this is a really bad idea.”
“Noted.”
A finger was pointed in my direction. “And I’m not letting you borrow my car this time.”
If she thought the cost of calling a rideshare would be enough to deter me, she was sorely mistaken.
“Don’t need it,” I tossed over my shoulder, headed for my room to grab my shoes and coat.
It was time to tell Matteo Bellini that I wasn’t interested in his charity.