Chapter 21
Dario
My thoughts were spinning with questions about my unexpected arrival upstairs. Nevertheless, I kept my expression unreadable as I stood and watched Catalina and Camila walk through the glass doors, stepping out of Emerald Club. Giovanni turned and nodded, silently reassuring me that my wife was safe, and he would help Miguel if Camila was in danger. We were all on high alert, and the last thing our new alliance needed was for either of the Ruiz women to be injured in Luciano territory.
Once the foursome disappeared, I hurried back up to my office. As I approached the closed door, Jasmine’s sobs were no longer audible. She’d been crying since she showed up early this morning. I wasn’t good with emotions. It wasn’t like I had the best examples growing up. Results were where I exceeded.
My neck straightened at what I saw as I opened the door. Armando met my gaze. His arms were surrounding Jasmine. Her unruly long red hair fell over her back, and her face was buried in his shirt.
Armando stiffened.
I shook my head, telling him to stay as he was.
Jasmine needed comfort, and she trusted Armando. She’d known him over half her life, since she was seven years old. Armando knew my strict rules regarding touching women he guarded. Jasmine had been the one to violate that rule as a child. Despite her horrible early childhood, when she arrived in our lives, she was a loving and outgoing child. Her ability to hug and love was a magnet to even the most dangerous of men.
Josie was the reason Jasmine was as well-adjusted as possible. She’d dedicated her life to her younger sister. If that was all I knew about Josie when I took her home with me, it would have been enough.
I had a flashback of that first day, rescuing Josie from Minx Club and meeting Jasmine for the first time.
I walked into the owner’s office, unintentionally interrupting his interrogation. Josie’s face and body were battered, and her legs spotted with angry circular burns.
At only twenty-five years old myself and on my way to replacing my father as capo, I had absolutes. One was that women were to be respected. Maybe it was because I’d grown up watching my mother, my aunts, and other women being disrespected.
Minx, the club owner, was a fat, disgusting coward who got off exerting his power over those who were unable to fight back. When I walked into that office, Josie was nude and tied to a chair. I snapped, unsheathing my knife and freeing her from her bindings. Later I’d give Minx a taste of the cigar burns.
Later in the day, as I entered my apartment, I expected to find a weakened, scared woman. Josie was anything but. I’d also been told that Armando had secured Josie’s sister. I knew next to nothing about children. Jasmine was nothing like I envisioned.
There was no way to prepare myself for the redheaded bundle of pure joy.
Bracing myself for the unknown, I called out, “Josie.”
Josie appeared at the top of the staircase with Jasmine’s hand in hers. The little girl looked nothing like her sister. Where Josie’s hair was brown, Jasmine’s was red. Josie’s face was battered, Jasmine’s was perfect. When my eyes met Jasmine’s, I found the same blue as her sister’s.
Descending the steps, Jasmine whispered something to Josie and the two smiled. Josie looked down at me, silently pleading for me to give Jasmine a chance. There wasn’t a question of if. When I made the decision to bring Josie into my home, her sister was part of the deal.
As the two made it to the marble entry, I crouched down and extended my hand. “Hello, Miss Jasmine.”
Jasmine giggled as she looked at Josie and back to me.
“You can shake his hand,” Josie whispered.
“My name is just Jasmine,” she said as we shook.
“And my name is Dario.”
“Mr. Luciano—” Josie began.
My gaze was only on the little girl as I interrupted. “You can call me Dario.”
“Okay, Dario. I really like your place.”
I stood, looking around at what had been nothing more than a place to rest and suddenly seeing it as more. “I’m glad you do. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to live here.”
Jasmine reached for her sister’s hand and looked up. “Josie, he’s not going to kick us out.”
Despite Josie’s voice sounding strong for her sister, I sensed her trepidation. “We can take it one day at a time.”
Armando told me where Josie and Jasmine lived when he took Josie to pick up some of her things. There was no chance of me allowing the two of them to go back to that crime-ridden neighborhood or small, infested apartment.
I wanted to talk to Josie alone, to tell her that Minx would no longer be a problem and to confess that I was a bad man. Maybe she wouldn’t want me around a child such as Jasmine. I cleared my throat. “Jasmine, do you know if Contessa has started dinner?”
She shook her head, and her eyes opened in wonder. “We can eat here too?”
“Yes,” I said with a scoff. Contessa was over the moon at the prospect of Josie and Jasmine. “Why don’t you go ask her? I bet she’d like to have your help.”
“Cook?” Jasmine bounced and looked up at me. “Sometimes Marianne lets me help.”
Josie replied, “I think Contessa is still in your room.”
Jasmine bounded back up the stairs in the only home she knew from that day until recently, when I sent her away to college. She remained in my home until after her high school graduation, a full year after Josie’s death.
A month before my wedding, I moved her to New York. While hoping to keep my way of life away from her, I didn’t send her alone. She had a bodyguard. Now, seeing her with bruises, despite her red hair, I saw Josie all over again.
Once again, I wanted blood.
Inhaling, Jasmine turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Dario. I know you don’t want me here with her.”
Her.
Catalina.
“Jasmine, you’re always welcome. I’ve told my wife about Josie.”
“But not about me?” Her eyes were down.
Walking closer, I lifted her chin. Her left cheek was swollen and a shade of purple. Her upper lip was crusted with dried blood. I’d seen the bruises on her arms and abrasions on her hands. She’d fought and that made me proud.
I concentrated on her blue stare. “I will. I’ll talk to her, and Armando will make sure you’re safe. You have to tell us who did this to you.”
“I don’t know,” she half said and half cried. “He was in my apartment.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled. Her apartment was the best money could buy with top security. “Where was Piero?” I looked at Armando. Piero was Jasmine’s bodyguard. He and I had already had words after Jasmine showed up at the wedding on Aléjandro Roríguez’s arm.
“He’s downstairs, boss,” Armando said. “He swears he was drugged.” Armando shook his head. “When he woke up, he heard the commotion and fought the guy off, thought he shot him. Piero said he could have gone after the assailant, but Jasmine was hurt. He chose to stay with her. They packed a few things and spent the night driving here.”
Fuck. It was a nineteen-hour drive.
“Why not fly?”
Jasmine answered, “I was afraid to fly, looking like this. I didn’t want the police involved.”
That way of thinking was my fault. The average person would go to the police first thing. Jasmine knew I would handle things my way and do my damnedest to get justice—my kind of justice. My forehead furrowed. “Was anything taken?”
Jasmine shook her head. “It’s like all he wanted to do was hurt and scare me.”
“You didn’t see a face?”
“No. He wore a ski mask.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood to attention. I wasn’t a man who beat around the bush. Jasmine was no longer the seven-year-old child. She was a woman. “Were you raped?”
She shook her head.
Relief flooded my circulation. “Did the attacker say anything to you?”
Again, she lowered her eyes.
“Jasmine, we need to find who did this to you.” My voice was more authoritative than sympathetic.
“He said something about Josie.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “It didn’t make sense.” She looked around. “Can I stay here in your office or one of the rooms downstairs?”
In a private club—hell no. “This is no place for you to be.”
She looked from me to Armando and back. “I feel safer here than back in my apartment.”
Fuck. I thought about having Armando take her to a hotel. They’d be safe in a two-bedroom suite. One look at Jasmine’s face and I knew that wasn’t an option. Some well-meaning hotel worker would see her injuries and alert the authorities.
There was a knock and my office door opened.
“Get the fuck out,” I bellowed, not knowing who was entering.
Rocco’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Jasmine. “What’s she doing here?” His brow furrowed. “And what the fuck happened to her?”
“Get the fuck out, Rocco. Now.” I noticed the bulge under his shirtsleeve. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing.” His gaze found mine. “The boss wanted her gone.”
Jasmine gasped.
I turned and in two strides met my brother-in-law chest to chest. “Remember my promise about slitting your throat? That respect you need to show goes for Jasmine, too. Now get out, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t let Jasmine’s name pass your lips. If I learn that you did, my sister will be wearing black for the next year.”
Rocco inhaled, his nostrils flaring before turning tail and closing the door behind him.
“The boss,” Jasmine said. “Vincent?”
It would be impossible for anyone to live in my home for over ten years and not know the truth about who I was.
“Dario, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Fuck my father. He was the head of the famiglia, not of me. Instead of addressing her statement, I asked, “When do your classes start?”
“Orientation is done.” She shook her head as more tears escaped. “I don’t want to go back.” Her voice cracked. “I’m scared he’ll come back.”
My mind was searching for any clue. “Did the attacker have anything unique to his voice—an accent?”
“I don’t think so.”
I looked at Armando. “Have our men go through the security from Jasmine’s apartment.”
“I could contact the New York outfit.”
“No. I don’t trust anyone except our people.” I reached for Jasmine’s hand. Instead of releasing it to me, she fell against my chest. I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her. “Armando will take you home. Contessa will look after you.”
She looked up, her blue eyes glistening with more tears. “Thank you.”