Chapter 22
Catalina
“Idon’t want you to leave. It seems like you just got here,” I said to Camila in the airport, standing near the entrance to her gate. I would walk her all the way if I could. Without a ticket and with a knife strapped to my leg, going through security wasn’t an option. “Maybe you can come back when you have a few days off school?”
She wrapped her arms around me. “I’m glad I got to see you. I feel better about you and Dario.” Her lips curled. “He’s quiet, but I saw the way he looks at you.” She nodded. “You two will make this work.”
I nodded. “I have to lower my expectations. It’s not like Dario will ever love me, but we can be partners in this marriage.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“You do?”
Camila nodded. “I saw it. Today at Emerald Club. He cares about you and keeping you safe. He didn’t want us to come for some reason but changed his mind when you asked. Dario doesn’t strike me as a man who easily changes his mind, but he did for you.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I can’t get my hopes up, Camila. He said he’s not a man capable of love. I have to accept that.”
“Okay, fine. You can still love him.”
“I think I do, or I’m starting to,” I admitted for the first time aloud.
She hugged me again and looked over to Miguel. “We better go.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Giovanni and I waited until Camila and Miguel disappeared into the sea of people. I turned to Giovanni. “She’s gone. Tell me what’s happening.”
“Mrs. Luciano…”
I stood my ground. “Are you going to tell me I’m imagining the unspoken tension?”
“Mr. Luciano will explain. He said to bring you home.”
“Dario is home?” It’s unusually early in the day for him to be home.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I inhaled. “Okay, let’s go then.”
Before today, I saw Kansas City traffic as mild compared to SoCal. However, as my nerves were stretched taut and I was anxious to see Dario, it seemed like everyone who owned a car was out and about on the city streets. My stomach twisted with each scenario my imagination could concoct. I looked at the rearview mirror. “Dario isn’t in danger, is he?”
Giovanni met my gaze in the reflection. “He’s safe at home.”
I nodded.
By the time we made it to the parking garage, it was nearly five o’clock. That was still an hour earlier than Dario usually came home. Looking at the cars in our private garage, I wouldn’t be able to tell if Dario was home. There were too many vehicles available to him and Dante.
I didn’t wait for Giovanni to open my door. Opening it myself, I slid out, and led my bodyguard to the door accessing the elevator. Standing in this spot made me realize I still didn’t have a card to operate the elevator. Maybe it was a stupid thing to be thinking about as the elevator ascended to the top of the building, but for some reason, I was suddenly fixated on it. When the doors opened to our entry, Dario was there, waiting.
All other thoughts left me as we collided. My arms went around his neck as his hands came to my waist. “I’ve been so worried,” I said after our kiss. My forehead furrowed as I took in his expression.
Dario nodded to Giovanni, who stepped into the open elevator and disappeared behind the closing doors. “We need to talk.”
“Shit, Dario, you’re scaring me. Something was happening at the club. Last night you said you’re worried about a coup and then you act all strange.”
He reached for my hand. “Let’s talk in the library.”
“Why not upstairs?”
“I’ll explain.”
As we made our way through the living room and down the hallway toward the library, I realized how quiet the apartment was. “Where’s Contessa?”
“Upstairs.”
With my hand still in his, I twisted around taking in the now-familiar surroundings. Where my next question came from, I honestly didn’t know. “Is she alone upstairs?”
Dario’s dark stare bore down on me. “No.”
I stopped walking. “Who is with her?”
We were at the library entrance. Dario opened the tall door. “Come in.”
“You’re scaring me.” I did as he said, entering the library and took a sideways seat on one of the chaises.
Dario took the chaise next to me and sat facing me. He inhaled. “Contessa isn’t alone. Jasmine is upstairs with her.”
“Jasmine?” I repeated the name. “The girl with Aléjandro at the wedding?”
“Yeah. I shut that shit down.”
“Is that why Dante beat him up? Because he was with that girl?”
“Part of it,” Dario admitted.
I stood. “The girl is a child. Who is she and why is she here?” My nose scrunched. “Are you and she…?”
Dario moved to his feet. “Fuck no. Jasmine is Josie’s sister.”
I was trying to make sense out of what didn’t make sense. “Josie’s sister.”
He reached for my hands. “When Josie moved into this apartment, she brought her little sister.” He shook his head. “They had a shitty childhood to put it mildly. When Josie turned nineteen, she applied for and was granted custody of Jasmine. At the time, Jasmine was only five. She tried to raise her the best she could.”
My knees bent as I retook my seat. Dario had my complete attention.
He sat across from me, his knees spread and elbows on his legs. He looked down. “Jasmine was seven when they moved in here,” he went on. “When Josie was killed…”
I saw the pain the sentence invoked.
“…when she died…I kept Jasmine. She was a minor. I called in a few favors with court officials and became her guardian. She was still in high school. This was the only real home she knew.”
Tears threatened to come, stinging my eyes as I smiled. “You love her.”
Dario looked up and shrugged. “I don’t think I’m capable of that emotion. I care about her.” The tips of his lips curled. “She came in here and turned this place upside down. A precocious little girl.” His smile faded. “She’s an adult now—eighteen. I’m no longer legally responsible for her.”
“You don’t stop caring for someone based on a piece of paper or date on a calendar.” A realization hit me. “When did she move out?”
“May, after her graduation.”
“After her graduation—this spring. She moved out because of me.” I knew I was right. “That explains why Contessa didn’t like me before she knew me. She blamed me for Jasmine’s eviction.”
Dario’s voice rose. “I didn’t evict her. She moved to New York for college.”
“She lives in New York?” I asked. “How did Aléjandro find her as a wedding date?”
Dario shook his head. “She said she met him at a café in SoHo. They started talking and realized they had common friends. I didn’t invite her to the wedding?—”
“Why not?”
Dario inhaled, his nostrils flaring. “She’s part of Josie.”
“She is basically your daughter. She should have been there.” I shrugged. “I guess she was.” My nose scrunched. “But…Aléjandro?” And what was he doing in New York? He lives in Mexico.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “She’s part of Josie. My family, father in particular, detested Josie.” Dario stood and began to pace. “He was awful to her and to me about her. He refused to acknowledge her presence. Threatened that I’d never be capo if I didn’t get rid of her.” There was more anger in his tone than I’d ever heard. “He referred to her as a stray.” He turned to face me. “Jasmine wasn’t supposed to be at the wedding, not because I didn’t want her there, but because much like Herrera, she was unwelcomed by the famiglia.”
I pursed my lips and stood. “She’s a child. She’s Camila’s age.”
“Someone broke into her apartment yesterday.”
My eyes opened wide. “In New York?”
Dario nodded. “I didn’t find out until this morning when she and Piero, her bodyguard, showed up at Emerald Club. They drove all night to get here. Jasmine is pretty banged up. She didn’t want to fly.” He shook his head. “She’s scared, Catalina. She asked if she could stay at Emerald Club.”
“No.”
Dario agreed. “I’d never let her stay there. Her mother—Josie’s and hers—was a dancer and prostitute. The girls grew up living in the back of a club similar to Wanderlust, seeing more than children should see.”
“Is that why you don’t like the way Uncle Nick runs Wanderlust?”
“I believe in respecting workers, no matter what job it is they choose to do. Josie was a dancer at Minx, only a dancer,” he emphasized. “But allowing Jasmine to spend even one night at Emerald Club would defeat all that Josie tried to overcome.”
“Is Jasmine why Armando stayed at the club?”
“Armando has been with Jasmine since she arrived here over eleven years ago. She trusts him, and I’m ill-equipped to handle a crying, scared teenager.”
Crying and scared—my heart broke for her.
“And Armando isn’t?” I asked. He never seemed the hugging type to me. More like the shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later type of guy.
Dario grinned. “They have a bond.” He inhaled. “I couldn’t let her stay at the club. And I couldn’t send her away. She’s upstairs with Contessa.”
“May I meet her?”
“This is your home. You have a say in who stays here.”
A smile came to my lips. “You’re capo. Final word rests with you.”
“Not yet, and my home isn’t my business. This is our home.”
I laid my hand on Dario’s chest over his tie. Beneath my touch, the heart he claimed not to have hammered away. “I would never send someone you care about away.”
He took my hand in his. “The famiglia would, every fucking one of them. My mother and father would be first in line. You’re part of them now.”
“I can be a part of them, but in here” —I brought our hands to my chest— “I’m still me. I don’t feel fully accepted by the famiglia except by you and Dante. Jasmine and I will have something in common.”
Dario pulled me against him and exhaled. “Fuck, Catalina. I should have told you about her before. Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t be hurt.”
I looked into his eyes clouded with guilt. “That isn’t your fault.” I kissed his cheek and watched the lines of worry that had been prominent upon his forehead begin to fade. “I want to meet her.”
Dario kissed my forehead and tugged on my hand. “Come on.”
Together, we left the library. My gaze went to the closed door across the hallway. “The theater room—it was built for Jasmine, wasn’t it?”
Dario nodded. “It was another sitting room before that.”
With my hand in his, we walked through the living room and up the stairs. Instead of leading me down the hallway to where Camila stayed, Dario led me down the hallway to our room. We stopped at the door closest to our suite.
“Was this her room?” I asked.
Dario nodded.
“The locked wine cellar. Was that because you had a child living here?” The pieces were falling into place.
He nodded again before knocking on the door.
Contessa opened it, her gaze going from Dario to me. The coolness I’d experienced when I first arrived was back. “Mr. and Mrs. Luciano.”
I gave her my biggest smile. “I’d like to meet Jasmine.”
Contessa’s expression softened.
“After all,” I said, “she lives here, too.”
Contessa gasped for breath and wiped a tear from her cheek. With a nod, she opened the door farther. Sitting on the bed was the girl I recalled from the wedding. She could very well be my sister. I tried to ignore her injuries and concentrate on her flowing red hair and bright blue eyes.
Jasmine stood. She was similar in height to Camila, a few inches shorter than I am. Trim and petite. Despite all Dario had said she’d been through, I sensed a strong young woman.
“Hi, Jasmine,” I said. “I’m Catalina. We met briefly at the wedding.”
She nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”
I gave her credit for her direct and to-the-point question.
“No.” I shook my head. “I want to get to know you. It seems that I moved into your home.”
Jasmine’s gaze brightened as she turned to Dario. “I can stay?”
I turned to see my husband behind me, his arms crossed over his chest as he nodded. “Welcome home.”
Jasmine rushed toward Dario, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held him tight. Her face was buried in his suit coat. “Thank you.”
My heart may have exploded as I watched his aloof armor melt away. Slowly, he moved his arms, pulling her into his embrace. The man who claimed he was incapable of love obviously loved. Jasmine lived with him for most of her life. She’d seen under Dario’s tough-man mask through the eyes of a child. No matter what he said, he had a heart.
Jasmine turned toward me. “I’m sorry if I’m cramping the honeymoon.”
My smile grew. “Not cramping it at all. I have a sister your age. She was here for a few days, and I already miss her. I hope we can be friends.” I looked around the room at the neutral décor. It was nothing like Camila’s bedroom back at the home where I grew up. “Dario said this used to be your room. Where are all your things?”
“I took some to New York.”
“The rest are in storage,” Contessa volunteered.
“Let’s get them out.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Contessa’s smile. I reached out and gently brushed Jasmine’s swollen cheek. “Are you all right?”
“I look horrible.”
“No, you’re beautiful.”
“I was scared he was going to kill me, like they did Josie.”
Dario’s stance straightened. “Why would you say that?”
“Because.” Her big blue eyes filled with tears. “I remembered. That’s what he told me.”
Tension grew like static electricity sparking around us. “What did he say?” I asked.
“He said that strays should die, and I was just like my sister—a stray.”
Rage radiated from Dario as his tone deepened. “The man who attacked you called you a stray?”
Jasmine nodded.