Chapter Fifty-two
Vida
T he library has turned into my sanctuary.
I run my fingers along the pages of the thriller romance novel I’d picked up the day Ciro left to travel for work, knowing the only reason I can’t finish it is because my mind keeps drifting back to him each time I try to read.
“You know,” Carmela begins, running her hand over Monarch’s soft fur as he sits next to her with his head on her lap. To say he loves his auntie Carmela would be an understatement. It may or may not be because she brings him a new toy every time she comes over. “My brother has changed so much these past six months.”
Her words catch my attention instantly, and I smile at her, wondering what she’s noticed. “Has he now?”
“Oh, absolutely,” she laughs softly as she gives a nod. “I mean, Ciro has always been brooding and intense . . .”
“He’s still brooding and intense,” I cut in, making us laugh. Monarch barks his agreement, before she continues.
“True, but you’ve changed him somehow. It’s like he finally knows how to breathe a little.”
“I don’t know about breathing a little. But I think he has changed, compared to when we first met in my house,” I murmur, a soft smile spreading on my lips.
Carmela waves her hand dismissively. “No, trust me. He’s changed a lot. And, you know what my favorite thing is?”
“Monarch?” I ask with a teasing smile. She looks down at him and squishes his fluffy cheeks together.
“Oh I do love you the mostest, but that’s not what I was talking about. It’s the fact that he’s stopped wearing those ridiculous brown contacts,” she says, grinning.
“That I can agree on.” I laugh. I am a sucker for those beautiful blue eyes of his.
“I can’t tell you how much I missed those Caribbean blue eyes of his.” She giggles. “They’re one of my top three things about my brother I can proudly say I love, and I think he knows you love them too.”
Her words bring a kind of warmth I didn’t realize I haven’t felt in a long time, the kind that reminds you of how far you’ve come and how happy you’ve become.
I can’t help but smile as I glance at the book in my hand, my thumb slowly brushing the cover.
“I am happy,” I admit softly, “for the first time in so long . . . I’m truly happy.”
I look up at her again, my eyes getting teary as I watch her smile back at me. I’m not living the dream I’d had several months ago, but this? This is so much better than any dream or plan. This is the path I thought was the wrong path, but it somehow turned out to be the path I was meant to be on.
I sigh and look away, that one haunting feeling hitting me like a ball to the gut.
“What?” Carmela asks, reading me like she always does.
“Donato is still out there, Cam. He hasn’t shown up or done something stupid, but I can’t help but worry.”
“Don’t let him live in your head, Vee. This chapter will be over soon, you’ll see,” she assures me.
Her words are comforting, but the worry and fear refuse to leave completely.
“What about you?” I ask, deciding to change the topic. “Are Cito and Franchesco still sharing your bed?”
“You could say that.” She laughs loudly.
“Oh? I think it’s time you spill all of the tea!” I urge, tired of her making excuses each time I ask.
She leans back and takes a deep breath, before crossing her arms.
“Well, I was with Cito first, you know this,” she begins and I nod. “But then Franchesco looked so hot during the casino opening and I just fell for him.”
“Wait, what?! That was when this started?” I ask.
“Yeah, I told Cito the moment I felt something, and Cito has always been a sharer, so one thing led to another . . .” she trails off and shrugs.
“I mean, he did have a wife once.” I laugh.
“Exactly. With him, as long as he knows and he knows he has me always, he’s good. And I think seeing Franchesco and I together turns him on,” she says and laughs.
“He was sure enjoying Franchesco putting his finger in you,” I comment, joining her laughing.
“Exactly! And it makes it interesting all the time. So now, I’m with them both.”
“And they make you happy?” I ask as I smile at her.
“They have no choice,” she giggles, making me laugh with her.
Before I can say another word, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Vladimir?
“Where are you?” he asks in a sharp tone.
“Hello to you too. I’m at home,” I reply.
Silence.
“Listen to me carefully. I need you to leave the house. Right now.”
“What?” I ask, panic moving through my body. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Who’s with you?” he asks.
“Carmela.”
“Put me on speaker,” he orders.
My hands tremble slightly as I press the speaker icon.
“Miss Ballera,” Vladimir’s voice rings out.
“Mr. Vladimir,” she responds, her playful expression fading instantly.
“Take her out of the house immediately,” he says firmly.
“Got it,” she replies, and without any hesitation she stands up and grabs Monarch and then grabs my arm.
“Wait!” I protest in confusion.
“Not now, Vee,” she says, pulling me towards the door with an urgency that only makes me panic more. “Let’s go.”
“We’re leaving,” Carmela tells Vladimir, shoving me into the passenger seat before putting Monarch in the back and climbing in and starting the engine.
As we speed away from the house, I glance back at the mansion, knowing deep down inside of me that something is very, very wrong.
Carmela’s hands tighten around the steering wheel as we wait for Vladimir to answer the call.
“What is all this about, Vladimir?” she demands, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. The way she did what Vladimir asked and took me out of the house, you’d think she already knew why.
Silence.
“An old friend wanted to send a message.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask.
“It means, my darling,” he chuckles and I can’t even be mad or annoyed at him right now.
“Donato wants your head,” he says bluntly, “And he sent six of his best men to get it.”
“What!” Carmela yells, startling me and Monarch, who barks in the back.
“Six?” I ask softly.
“Yes. But one of them did a job for me once,” Vladimir continues. “So he told me about it.”
“Talk about the devil,” I mutter under my breath, my gut feeling proving me right again.
“But don’t worry, malishka , once they find the house empty, they’ll leave to regroup and make new plans. That will give Ciro enough time to be back.”
“No,” I say firmly, shaking my head like he can see me. “Don’t tell Ciro.”
“Vida . . .” Carmela tries to protest while Vladimir just chuckles.
“Your choice, sweetheart. I’ve got work to go back to,” he says.
“Thank you,” I tell him, thankful that we became friends when we did.
“For you? Anything!” And with that, he hangs up.
“I don’t like this,” Carmela shakes her head, still focused on the road ahead.
“I know. Me neither.”
“Fine,” she sighs. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”