Chapter 21
Vivi
I RUSHED THROUGH a shower, towel dried my hair, and then shoved my legs into a pair of shorts.
An oversized sweatshirt had just passed my bra line when I stepped into the kitchen, hoping Luca was rummaging through my fridge.
Instead, Damian grumbled while shoving around a plate of moldy casserole, leftovers from the funeral.
No Luca. No Mama.
My heart sank into my stomach for both reasons.
I needed a drink.
Damian’s eyes settled on me as I uncorked a bottle of wine and poured a good amount into a glass.
It may have been rude, but I didn’t ask him to join me.
I also refused to hide in my room or show an ounce of disappointment that he was here, and Luca was not.
Though I was seriously sour from the letdown.
I hadn’t seen Luca since he walked out this morning, leaving me with Sofia and a truth bomb rocking my world.
My father was on the cusp of signing my life over to a stranger, and still, all I thought about was that it was Thursday night.
And Thursday night for Luca meant Piascere and Maria.
Jealousy was a bitter pill, and I washed her name out of my mouth with a long drag of Cabernet.
Then I refilled my glass, walked away to settle on the couch, and watched the churning ocean—a mirror to the rolling in my stomach.
Minutes ticked off the clock, and my watchdog’s stare seared into my skin.
The heat felt nothing like Luca’s heavy gaze, which lit up my insides like the Fourth of July.
Dami’s glower was hard and cold, similar to the barrel of Tomas’s gun pressed to my temple all those years ago.
So much had changed since that day under the sun; then again, many things were static.
Luca and I still danced around feelings.
He had women that weren’t me. Sofia bullied every aspect of our relationship.
Dante had the freedom I desperately wanted.
Stefano and my father had too much power and influence, even outside of the Cosa Nostra.
Someone had to stop them, and it seemed Mama had died trying.
The note I found in her things was a convoluted puzzle that, when solved, would apparently destroy the business.
A part of me thought she went crazy. Why leave stupid clues behind when she could’ve just told me the secrets?
A long breath eased out of my lungs. I’d probably be dead already if I was the only one who knew the truth.
Trust no one is what she wrote, but I needed help.
I couldn’t do everything on my own. Rafi and Sam were the two people in my life who had no involvement with my family, other than their friendship with me.
Good thing I’d see them both tomorrow for a much-needed break from constant surveillance and the weight of Damian’s resentment—one of the never-changing things.
Tension ballooned in the room, and after another sixty seconds of his seething glare, my temper exploded. “Why do you hate me so much?”
His jaw clenched, but he said nothing while leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. He was thicker than Luca, wider in the shoulders, but not as tall.
There was no denying Damian was handsome if you liked how the Cosa Nostra looked on a man, bleeding darkness into eyes that were narrowed on my own.
His silence fueled my irritation, so I poked the bear.
“What, do I make you nervous or something?”
A small sound of amusement rolled through him. “Or something.”
“Great start at good communication,” I goaded. “Tell me more.”
He grunted. “I hate that you don’t have any food in this place.”
“So call Francesca.”
“It’s so easy. Snap your fingers, and the staff run to do your bidding.”
I ignored his sarcasm and tapped my mouth, feigning deep thought.
“Actually, we should call Paulie Gee’s for a delivery.
The Gates of Eden—have you had it before?
Gorgonzola and candied pecans, with a splash of red wine vinaigrette.
It’s the perfect side salad for pie, but you’re probably too good for New York-style pepperoni and cheese, huh?
” He stayed silent, but the reticence was a guise.
His hostility slapped against my skin, and because I was a glutton for punishment, I transitioned to my knees and inched toward the arm of the sofa.
“Wait a minute. I bet you like the special deep-dish, Better Off Fed. Oh, yeah, that’s it. You need something different.”
He laughed, but the tone was dark. “Drink up, Princess.”
“I am drinking, thank you very much.” I toasted him before finishing off my wine.
My head swam as I stared at the drained glass, which seemed a lot like the abyss consuming my heart.
Empty but for a lonely red drop—the sole reminder of what had filled it up at one time.
Joy bled out of me that day at the mission.
What was such a loving place was now stained by death and grief that drew me deeper into a web of darkness, and no one cared.
Certainly not Luca, because he was at Piascere, and I was here with his sad replacement.
I inhaled a shaky breath and blinked up to Dami.
“I’ve been drinking more than normal since my mother died, but you don’t care.
She’s just another already forgotten casualty, and I’m next. I bet you hope that I am.”
“Stai zitto.” Shut up.
A spark ignited somewhere in the hollow—a deep resentment growing in the absence of light.
“Why should I? This is my house. You’re in my apartment, and it’s time we got to know each other.
Let me take a stab at why you’re here and Luca’s at Piascere.
You enjoy a nice, thick Italian sausage, and that fine establishment doesn’t serve your preference on Thursday nights. Am I right?”
The truth was, I didn’t know anything about Damian’s preferences, and I didn’t give a damn.
He could bang a harem of men and women, and I would be happy for him if that’s what made him happy.
On the other hand, he’s only ever looked at me like I was a cockroach squished on the bottom of his prized Berluti loafers.
He was Luca’s friend. The two of them came to the family as a package.
Luca liked to pretend to hate me because what else could he do?
Vigo owned my future, and he wasn’t part of that contract, although deep down, I truly believed he cared about me.
But Dami just plain hated my guts, and I had no idea why.
Or maybe… “You’re after Luca.” My heart skipped a beat as I blinked Dami into focus and whispered, “You’re swimming in jealousy too. ”
Another dark laugh scraped his throat, and he shook his head. “Honestly, I didn’t think you had a funny bone in your stick figure, but ugly suits you.”
I was well past numb to insults, yet my pulse skyrocketed when he pushed away from the counter, stalking toward me with a menacing presence.
Warning signals went off in my mind, urging me to fall back.
Instead, I lifted my chin, waiting for his rancor to crack my cheek like Stefano’s did.
But he stopped inches away and only touched me with his punishing tone. “You want the truth?”
“Yes,” I hissed.
“Hating you is too simple,” he said, radiating anger in the pulsing tick of his hardened jaw.
“I despise your existence because it requires me to waste mine. It’s asinine that we’re here watching and protecting you, as if you’re somehow important in this world.
Heads up. You’re not. You’re nothing to me or to anyone, and that, Princess, is why he is at Piascere and you’re here alone.
Capisci?” A sneer pulled up the corner of his lip, as if he found my loneliness hysterical.
“Make it easy on us and turn over whatever shit Simone left around, huh? Then we can all get on with our lives.”
But I wouldn’t have mine.
Trust no one.
The burst of courage flowing through my veins shriveled into a cowardly ball of aching emotion in my chest. I really was alone. Everyone always wanted something, and it was never just Vivienne.
A knock on the door saved me from diving deeper into the empty well.
I shuffled off the couch, set my glass on the counter, and then greeted a line of men holding armfuls of my mother’s belongings.
Relief stung my eyes. Having even a little part of her was what I needed to get through this endless day.
One by one they dropped loads in my room, and for hours I forgot about Damian, Luca, and the Cosa Nostra, losing myself in memories.
I tried on a hundred outfits, remembering my mother when she last wore them.
Emotion ran deep, filling my void like the sun does the sky on a cloudless day.
Yet my blood ran hot when a muffled conversation reached me through the haze of feelings.
Just hearing the smooth, deep sound of Luca’s voice caused the melody in my heart to stumble.
My next breath caught in my throat, right next to the thump, thump, thumping of my pulse.
Luca and Piascere.
Luca and Maria.
Luca. Luca. Luca.
I had to see him. I had to see him look me in the eyes after he rejected me to be with her. Maybe this betrayal was the cure to the Luca-like addiction swimming through my veins. I needed something—anything—to move on, leaving him and this crazy existence behind.
The soft latch of the lock confirmed Damian’s exit from my apartment.
As if my feet had a mind of their own, I moved, stumbling around the mounds of clothes all over my floor and stopping in the dimly lit hallway.
I inhaled deeply, willing the frantic pace of my heart to slow.
It exploded when Luca appeared, blinking his gaze from the floor to my bare legs.
Of course he’d arrived just after I’d stuffed myself into one of Mama’s Halloween costumes—a re-creation of a pink-haired stripper from a Natalie Portman movie.