Chapter 55
Sitting outside a café in August is my definition of Hell. Not even considering the fact that because it’s summer, Ostia is still in full swing: with many residents not yet returning to the city. Busier means more people and potentially more danger.
But it’s where Serafina wanted to hang out today…even if she’s barely paying attention to me.
My sister sits across from me at the small, round table, her mocha untouched, and only a bite taken from her croissant. She’s entirely focused on her cell phone, nails tapping at the screen like her life depends on it. Every little tick grates more and more of my nerves until I drop my coffee mug with a bit of extra force to gain her attention. All I get is a brief flick of her eyes before her phone wins again.
I reach across the table for the device but with surprisingly quick reflexes, she swings her arms to the side and out of my reach.
“Who are you texting?” I grumble, lowering back to my seat.
“No one.” She doesn’t look up from her phone, but a faint blush creeps into her cheeks, and that’s when it dawns on me. Her inability to sit in the same position for more than two-minute increments, her nibbling on her lip, her blush?—
“Nice try. Who is it?”
“No one,” she repeats with exasperation, flipping her phone so it’s screen down on her lap. “Just someone I’ve started talking to.”
Serafina’s had boyfriends in the past, but they’ve only been minor flings, and no one threatening. Of the three guys I’ve had their backgrounds dug up, by the time I gathered all the necessary information, they were usually splitting.
But Serafina graduated a couple months ago, and now she’s an adult. Therefore anyone she’ll be talking to now is also an adult, and potentially seeking a different kind of relationship.
“What’s their name?” I keep my tone level in an attempt to be non-probing.
She scoffs. “Like I’d tell you.”
“When did you meet them?”
“Him. Around my birthday.”
“Your birthday,” I snap. Her birthday is in February, and a quick count tells me exactly how long it’s been. “That was six months ago. Definitely not someone you just ‘started’ talking to.”
She shrugs. “We’re taking it slow.”
Small mercies. “Does Madre know?”
Serafina glances away, pressing her lips together as she replies, “She knows I’ve been going out often with friends, which isn’t a complete lie. She doesn’t know it’s only one friend, and that he’s a guy. Only ...” Defensive eyes pin me. “Because she’d rat me out to you, and you’d insist on meeting him or something stupid.”
“How else will I know if he’ll harm you?”
“By trusting me,” she says in a tone indicating how obvious the answer is. “As if you’ve done background checks on my entire friend group. He’s no different.”
Without missing a beat, I admit, “That’s exactly what I do. Every school year, I have the entire student body checked. If someone new is admitted, then I’m informed.” The school’s preside —principal—has been very cooperative with the Cosa Nostra after learning who Serafina is. The Cosa Nostra’s power runs deep throughout all of Italy, and most organizations know not to fuck with us—educational institutions included. Besides, the preside receives a healthy donation each year for their hard work and collaboration.
“That’s a bit stalkerish, Z.”
“Yeah, well, it brings me to something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She watches me with narrowed eyes while I sip my steaming drink before piecing it together. “Madre mentioned my acceptance. That’s why you chose today to visit.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you applied to Sapienza University? It’s great, Sera.” I stretch a hand across the table, slipping a bit of brotherly support her way. Something in recent weeks, I haven’t done well enough.
She looks past my shoulder, down the cobblestone back road the café looks out onto. “’Cause you’d be annoying about it. You’d say no or something, and I didn’t want the disappointment.”
A stab to the gut would have hurt less than those words. Yes, I’m protective of her, but everything I’ve ever wanted for her was normality. Attending university is one form of normality for people her age.
“Sera, I’m thrilled about your acceptance. And before you fight it, I will run checks on all your professors because I’d rather you’re safe.”
Her tongue skirts the inside of her upper lip. “Wow, I expected a huge argument.”
“I’ll admit, I was toying with the idea of sticking a bodyguard on you after recent events, but until you give me a reason to worry, I won’t. Which is why I need the name of whoever it is you’re talking to.”
“Ugh.” She sticks out her tongue. “Only you could bring this conversation back around like that.”
“Name or his number, then I’ll leave you alone.” As long as he checks out. “You think I’d risk your welfare all because of a stupid relationship? Your other schools were easy, but universities are open to anyone, so we don’t know for certain people won’t be undercover to get near you.”
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “’Cause which undercover agent gets a thrill out of math and language arts day in and day out. Besides, which ‘enemies’ even know I exist?”
None if I had it my way, but given the way she’s always on social media, I can only hide her so much. Once I contemplated sending her to a private school, but it was Madre who said being an average child means a regular, public school here in town so she can be seen with the local kids.
Plus, with Vanessa back in the wild, she could be clinging to hatred, and Serafina’s the easiest way to make me crumble.
Even thinking it feels wrong because deep down, I don’t think she’d use Serafina as leverage. Not after she’s the one insisting on ending the feud once and for all. But without any communication for the past month, and her being back home amidst her people, a person can change.
Serafina pulls her hand away, crossing her arms. “Your protectiveness has gone up a few notches since Vanessa left. It’s exhausting. Weekly visits, Z? It’s a bit much.”
It’s been almost four weeks to the day since the Bratva stormed my villa and rescued Vanessa. Four weeks without any contact from her. Every day since, her lawyers have been in a legal battle with mine.
I haven’t admitted to Serafina or Madre about the contract standing between us. Last thing I need is my mother’s judgement and Serafina’s misplaced hope that it means something else.
Serafina’s still talking, and it takes me tuning back into her to hear what she’s saying. “…Also, I’m still mad at you for how you reacted.”
“I’m aware.” It took a few days after Vanessa left before Serafina would talk to me again, but she slowly thawed.
“Speaking of Vanessa—” My sister’s gaze softens, her hand gripping the table’s edge as she leans closer. “How is she?”
“Wouldn’t know.”
I wish I did.
I also wish those feelings would go away, so she can stop infecting my mind.
Serafina nods, the skin between her brows dipping before she drops her head, her curtain of hair falling on either side of her face and blocking her from me as she returns back to her phone.
“Nice job on switching the topic. Name or his number, Sera.”
Without looking up, she scowls but rapidly recites a set of digits. “If you didn’t catch all that, I’m not repeating it.” Which is probably her hope, but unfortunately for her, I’m mentally repeating them as I type them into my phone for later.
For now, I probe a bit more. “Where’d you meet this guy?”
She stills, studying my face. “The more information I give you, the easier it’ll be for you to find him.”
While that may be true, it only helps me narrow my search. “Call it a big brother’s curiosity.”
She sucks on her teeth, casting another eye roll. “I’m sure. Met him during a campus tour of the university.”
“So he’s a student.”
“Duh.”
If he’s already enrolled, it means he’s older than her, and I don’t like that. “Age?”
“I’m done with this conversation. You can stop treating me like I’m your staff.”
“If you were staff, I’d fire you for hiding information.”
“Hiding information,” she repeats in a mocking tone, bringing one knee over her other as she twists her body to the side. “Whatever, Z. You used to be a lot more fun.”
Serafina stands abruptly and starts toward my car parked across the street, so I follow her up, tossing some cash on the table for the waitress. Once we’re settled inside and I’m pulling away from the curb, she actually grants me an ounce of attention that I didn’t have to demand.
“Can I make you a deal?”
After making deals and bets with Vanessa, I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime. With a wary side-eye glance, I reply, “Depends what it is.”
“If I tell you anything you want to know about him, could I have Vanessa’s number?”
The impact of her question goes through my body, until my foot slams on the brake pad a bit jerkier than I meant to. I should have guessed this would come up eventually.
“Why do you want it?” I know why. Because she feels she has some right to being in contact with Vanessa. Despite the legal document tying her to me, I want them apart so Serafina doesn’t get hurt when she inevitably seeks a relationship that Vanessa has no interest in maintaining. One Volkov banishing my sister was enough to ensure I keep her protected from heartache.
“You know why.” She draws her knees up to her chest and bows her body in on itself, angling into the door so her back is toward me. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”
It takes a car behind me honking to remember where I am, and to stop staring at the reflection of her desolate expression in the side window.
I’m mid-text to Nero and Elio, sending them the number Serafina’s been chatting with so they can try tracking its owner, when Nero pushes into my office, striding across the room.
“Z, problem. You gotta see this.”
He tosses his phone onto my desk. The screen shows an email addressed from my wife. Intrigued on why she’d be reaching out to Nero over me, I slowly read the message, digesting every word before clicking on the image attachment.
Her email isn’t about us, her, or me. It’s about the person linked to us. The one she knows I’d kill or die for.
By the time I’m handing the phone back to its owner, my rage is a bristling beast, my sanity one strand away from snapping, and my urge to kill more vicious than ever.
“Get the Vitales on the phone now .”