Chapter 43
Chapter
Forty-Three
RAYNE
God, I wish I could say no to him. I had my mind all made up, summoned up all of my courage to tell him I was leaving, and then he goes and looks at me like that.
I should have left while he was out, disappeared from his life and never looked back.
But that would have felt cowardly, and unfair to him.
What would one more night hurt, really? Even if I spend it in his bed, which I inevitably will, it won’t change anything.
“Fine. I’ll stay for one more night. But only because I’m intrigued by whatever this surprise is.
And if it’s just your dick tied up with a bow or something, I’m going to be super disappointed. ” Not entirely, but still…
He laughs, and the sound is so free and genuine it’s unnerving. What the hell kind of surprise does he have planned that makes him light up like that. “Sit. Read your book. Watch some TV. Then meet me in the dining room at six. Not a minute before. Okay?”
I frown, suspicious as hell. “Okay.”
As promised, I wait until six o’clock to make my way to the dining room. Voices drift out into the hallway. And not just voices. Laughter. Familiar male laughter.
Are his brothers here too? What the hell is Enzo up to?
I step into the room and freeze as I’m greeted by something that looks like it’s been pulled from a memory.
The long wooden table still dominates the room, but in the center of it is a crowd of mismatched plates and bowls.
Candles flicker softly between dishes overflowing with food.
My favorite pink roses are arranged in random glass jars, and even in the empty wine bottle from last night.
And around the table sit all five Medici brothers.
They stop laughing when I walk into the room, all of their eyes on me.
For a second, nobody speaks. Enzo is at the head of the table, his dark gaze holding mine captive.
“So glad you could join us, Rayne,” Micah says, breaking the silence
“Thank god,” Rafael mutters. “Enzo was becoming unbearable.”
But my eyes stay fixed on Enzo. He’s changed for dinner, out of the jeans and T-shirt he had on earlier and into a dark suit and a crisp white shirt—the top two buttons left undone.
He looks intimidating, dangerous. Unfairly sexy.
His eyes drag over me and a muscle flexes in his cheek.
For a moment, the room disappears and there’s only me and him.
“Thank you for being here,” he says, voice sounding rough, almost strained. As though he’s been holding his breath, waiting for my arrival.
Luca clears his throat.
“Jesus Christ,” Rafael groans. “Can you two stop staring at each other like that so we can eat?”
I smile and Enzo does too, holding out a chair for me.
Before I sit, I take a closer look at the table.
The food isn’t catered. Not elegant or expensive despite the wealth sitting around the room.
It all looks homemade. Comfort food. My comfort food.
My favorite pasta dish. The olive sourdough bread I love.
The rosé blush I adore. Cherry pie from the best bakery in the entire world. “What is all this?”
Enzo’s brothers exchange glances. “An intervention,” Micah says.
I frown, confused. “An intervention for who?”
“You. Definitely you,” Rafael says, flashing me a wicked grin.
“No, for him.” Angelo points at his oldest brother.
Enzo shakes his head. “Ignore them. Have a seat.”
I do as he asks, sitting on the chair he’s holding out for me.
His hand settles against the back of my chair, and even though he’s not touching me, this still feels intensely intimate.
He lowers his head, close enough that I can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating from him.
“I know I don’t deserve you, baby.” His eyes search mine. “But I’m so glad you’re here.”
My pulse stumbles. He’s right. I am here, but why? I should have left days ago. I should hate him enough to walk away, but now I can’t even breathe properly from being so close to him. Unable to stop looking at him, or wanting him.
“I’m happy to be here,” I say honestly. Because despite what’s unfolded these past few weeks, this feels warm and familiar.
“Do you remember when we used to do this every Sunday?” Angelo asks, breaking the spell I seem to be under.
Enzo takes his seat.
Rafael laughs. “Not just when we were kids. When we were grown adults too. Forced to by Mama.”
“We were encouraged to,” Angelo says in her defense.
Luca shakes his head, a rare full smile lighting up his features. “No, we were threatened.”
“Same thing,” Rafael says.
“I remember,” I tell them. “You boys always tried to get me into trouble, but your Mama knew I was a good girl really.”
Enzo winks at me and my ovaries almost combust.
Angelo snorts. “Remember when Rafael put a live frog right in the middle of the table and tried to convince her it was Rayne’s pet and she’d brought it as a dinner guest?”
“She was torn between trying to be a good host and screeching about there being vermin at her dinner table.”
Rafael’s laugh is loud and raucous. Even Micah and Luca chuckle.
“I can’t believe you almost convinced her I had a pet frog,” I say, a smile tugging at my lips.
“To be fair, you did once have a pet snake,” Angelo reminds me.
I smile widely now, recalling Jezebel, my corn snake.
“And you’ve always loved any kind of animal,” Enzo adds. When I meet his gaze again, it’s filled with a hunger that belies his soft tone of voice.
Angelo wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “As I recall, you did actually try and keep the frog as a pet afterward.”
“Yes, I did. Until Rafael set it free.”
“By letting it loose in the garden while Papa was sunbathing,” Micah says drily.
“He punished us all for that,” Luca adds.
They argue good naturedly about who was punished most severely and it reminds me of those days back in the Medici family home when Mama Medici was alive and her sons were my best friends, the family I’d always longed for.
And one of her sons, well, he was so much more…
I look to him again and find him still staring at me intently.
My skin heats instantly, like a fire igniting beneath my skin.
Because now I can’t help but think of so many other memories of him.
His hands on my skin and his mouth in dark places.
“It was three fucking times, Micah,” Rafael barks out on a laugh, almost doubled over at the table, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks.
I have no idea what he’s referring to now, having lost the thread of their conversation in Enzo’s eyes.
But it’s enough to snap me back to reality, and to this wonderful feast before us.
“This all looks incredible.”
Rafael smirks. “Enzo planned it all. He went to two bakeries to get your favorite bread and pie.”
The laughter stops.
“Luca made the fettuccine,” Enzo says, like he’s trying to divert attention from himself. “Rafael picked the ice cream to go with the pie. Micah set the table, and Angelo brought the glass jars and arranged the flowers.”
“Yeah, Enzo’s been barking orders at everyone all afternoon,” Angelo says with a grin.
“Don’t be thinking he’s gone all soft though, Rayne. He did almost kill a florist today,” Rafael says deadpan.
My eyes widen and I stare at Enzo. “You almost killed a florist?”
Enzo rolls his eyes. “That’s a tad hyperbolic, Raf, even for you.” Then he gives me all of his focus. “I merely suggested that he should find a way to get me the pale pink roses, not the deep pink, if he wanted to remain in business.”
Micah points toward the flowers. “And it worked.”
“Because pale pink roses are your favorites,” Angelo says.
“Not deep pink, which remind you too much of the time you threw up after drinking too much vodka cranberry,” Enzo adds.
Something tightens in my chest. “You remembered that?”
“I remember everything, cuore mio.” He brushes his thumb over my knuckles.
The faintest touch, but intimate enough to make my stomach twist into a knot.
“I remember how much you used to say you wanted a family of your own. But you already have one, Rayne. We are your family, and we always will be. In all our messy, fallible, florist-hating glory, we’re always here for you, no matter what. ”
I’m so overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness that my heart feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest. I stare at him for the longest time. The man who broke my heart. The man who still looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth having.
Luca’s fettuccine was delicious, and another stark reminder of the life we all used to share. It’s been like old times, sitting here with all five brothers and simply enjoying pleasant conversation. It’s too much, yet somehow not enough.
When Rafael starts talking about the cherry pie, I take the opportunity to excuse myself to get the ice cream and take a much-needed moment to pause and reset.
Enzo’s surprise was wonderful and unexpected.
Because it wasn’t some extravagant gift like jewelry or a new car, to tell me how sorry he is.
No, this was personal. Human. The kind of gift only someone who truly understands me would think of.
So, where does that leave us now? I leave tomorrow, and I find myself wanting more than ever to stay. To be a part of this family again.
I’m aware of footsteps behind me and I spin to find Luca in the kitchen with me.
“Hey.” I flash him a smile.
He nods in greeting. Always a man of few words.
“This evening has been lovely. Your fettuccine is delicious, by the way. Almost as good as your mama’s.”
That gets me a half smile. “She was the best cook.”
“She was,” I agree. She was an incredible woman in so many ways, and I miss her terribly.
Luca sucks on his teeth, staring at me like he wants to say something, but for whatever reason, won’t. Or can’t.
I grab the tub of ice cream from the freezer. “Is there something on your mind, Luca?”
He hums, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Don’t you wonder why Enzo stayed so loyal to Carmine for all these years? A man he could barely stand?”
“Enzo has always been a man of honor and principle. Carmine was the don, so Enzo was loyal.”
Luca shrugs. “Dons can be challenged. Replaced. The only reason Carmine remained in power for so long was because he had Enzo at his side.”
I’m confused, or I’ve drunk more glasses of wine than I thought. “Clearly I’m missing something here, so why don’t you just tell me what that is instead of asking me questions I don’t know how to answer.”
“Can’t. Enzo swore us all to secrecy. But I can tell you that Carmine and our father wanted you dead. They claimed it was because you disgraced the Medici name, but now we both know better, don’t we?”
Panic and indignation bubble up in my throat, but I swallow them down. Luca’s not accusing me, and he’s also no threat to me. But while it’s no surprise that Carmine and Giovanni wanted me dead, it’s still no picnic hearing Luca say it so callously. “Well, I always suspected as much.”
He nods. “And yet you got to live in San Francisco, in your cute little apartment a few miles from the beach, and practice your photography in that studio by the boardwalk.”
Dread licks a path along my spine. Have they been spying on me all these years? “How do you even know any of that?”
“There’s a reason you got to enjoy your life in peace and safety, Rayne. There’s a reason Enzo was loyal to Carmine. You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you can connect those dots for yourself.”
After dropping that bombshell, he walks out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts. Enzo traded my safety for his loyalty to Carmine. But why would he do that when he thought I’d betrayed him. When he hated me?
I spent the first year after I left living in fear of someone finding me.
Eventually, I stopped worrying every time I left the house, or a car backfired in the street.
All those years that followed I just assumed that I’d been left in peace because I was quiet and kept my mouth closed.
That I wasn’t worth the time and effort of hunting down and killing.
But it was because of Enzo—protecting me like he’s done almost my entire life.
Tears burn behind my eyes and I angrily swat them away.
I do forgive him for what happened, but can I ever move past it?
More importantly, can I believe that he would always trust me in future?
His behavior since I came back to Vegas would say yes, that he’s a different man than the one I left behind.
Different, but in so many ways the same.
“You need any help in here, baby?” His voice carries through the kitchen, and despite everything, I’m happy to hear it. I realize I’m always happy to hear it, even when I pretend I’m not.
I roll back my shoulders, pick up the ice cream, and plaster a smile on my face before I spin to face him. “I’m good.”
He nods, brow furrowed like he doesn’t quite believe me.
I nudge his arm. “We’d better get back in there before Rafael and Angelo eat all the cherry pie without us.”
For the longest moment, he doesn’t say or do anything, other than regard me with suspicion. Eventually, his eyes drop to the ice cream I’m still holding onto, currently melting, condensation dripping from the carton. “You’re getting yourself all wet,” he emphasizes the last word.
Now this is more familiar territory—one that I can work with. I give him a wicked grin. “That’s never bothered you before.”
He slaps my ass hard, making me squeal. “Don’t force me to make you miss your dessert because I’m too busy eating mine, Rayne,” he warns on a growl.
“Fine.” I let out an exaggerated sigh and head out of the kitchen, a few steps in front of him.
Knowing he’ll be staring at my ass, I give it an extra sway.
This is easier than thinking about the implications of my conversation with Luca a few moments ago.
Much easier than thinking about the sacrifice Enzo made for me, even when he had every reason to hate me.