Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
Jasmine
Three months later
W ith the late March chill, I was still wearing my winter coat as I paced the foyer of the penthouse, waiting for Dario. This was the first time I’d been home since Christmas, and the lack of information was eating at me. Catalina had tried to keep me up-to-date on what she knew about the declared war, or most of it, but that wasn’t much. Despite multiple text messages to both Rei and Em, none had been returned.
My spring break was last week, yet I was ordered home now. Piero and I flew commercially, and we’re now back in Kansas City.
“Oh, you’re home,” Contessa said, coming from upstairs. “I have your room ready.”
“Contessa, what’s happening? Have you heard anything about Reinaldo or Emiliano?”
“No. I haven’t asked. Mr. Luciano has been very busy. I’m sure he’ll tell you what you need to know.” She patted my hand. “When you’re finished with Mr. Luciano, come to the kitchen. I made carfogn with strawberry jam, your favorite.”
Feigning a smile, I nodded, one thing she said repeating in my mind.
What I need to know .
Being back in the penthouse didn’t give me the same joy it once had. If anything, it felt confining as if my skin were too tight.
“Jasmine,” Armando said, “Mr. Luciano is ready to see you now.”
The last time I saw Dario, he told me to leave.
Lifting my chin, I walked toward his open office door. I nodded at the guard standing at the door before entering. Once I was inside, the door closed. Dario looked up from his desk. It took him a second as if he were trying to recall why I was here or even who I was, but finally, he stood, a bit of a smile coming to his face.
He hadn’t changed, if anything, maybe he was a bit grayer. His appearance was as impeccable as it had been the first time we’d met. “Jasmine.” He came around the desk. “Why do you still have your coat on? You’re home.”
I pushed my hands deep into the pockets of the long wool coat. “I guess I’m cold. Why did you call me back? I still have over a month of classes?— ”
Dario inhaled, his expression stopping my question.
“You didn’t return for your spring break.”
Swallowing, I stood taller, unwilling to admit that I didn’t feel welcome.
Dario continued. “There’s been a development that I needed to speak to you about—in person.”
Reinaldo.
This was about Reinaldo.
My stomach twisted as I grew warm. Taking off my coat, I folded it and laid it over a chair. It didn’t make sense for my hands to tremble, but they were. I’d been expecting this discussion. Over the last few months, I’d convinced myself that I was ready to be wed. Now that I was facing the reality, I was less sure.
And then another thought came to me. “The war. Has Reinaldo or Emiliano been hurt?”
Dario gestured toward one of the chairs in front of his desk while sitting in the other. “No. This isn’t about them.”
I sat, holding my own hand on my lap to keep it from visibly shaking. “I thought you called me back about marriage.”
He inhaled, his nostrils flaring. “Have you been in contact with either man?”
I shook my head. “I sent text messages, but they haven’t been returned.”
“I could let you think that they didn’t want to respond to you, but that’s not fair.”
Exhaling, I let out a breath. That was what I’d thought. “Why haven’t they responded? You said they weren’t hurt. ”
“Jasmine, I had to work out some negotiations. Having you communicate with either man would have only provided false hope.”
“What?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
“I had them blocked from your phone. Your text messages never went out. Things have escalated in Mexico, and I need every soldier from the famiglia and cartel with their minds on our war. Neither Reinaldo nor Emiliano needs a distraction.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I nodded. “Then why am I here?”
“Zhdan Myshkin.”
Lowering my arms, I stared. “I don’t know who that is.”
“He’s the son of the leader of the Kansas City Bratva, Kostya Myshkin.”
“I thought you were at war with the bratva. What does he have to do with me?”
“Kostya has agreed to help us with Herrera in exchange for you wedding his son.”
My stomach sank as if the floor had just been knocked out from below me. “Dario, I don’t know this Zhdan. I can’t marry him.”
“You can. Catalina didn’t know me. I didn’t know her. Aléjandro and Mia had only met once. You will be meeting Zhdan this coming weekend. He’ll be here to formally propose.” Dario stood. “The ill will between the famiglia and the Myshkin bratva began with my father. This is our chance to stand together as we have with the cartel.”
Fighting back tears, I stared at the man I always thought would protect me. Standing, I slapped my hands to my thighs. “You’re sending me away to the bratva? I disobeyed you once, and you’re sending me away.”
“Jasmine, sit down.”
My nostrils flared as I fought to breathe. Instead of sitting, I turned a full circle, taking in his office, the big desk, the bookcases, and the windows. “You said this would always be my home.”
“It is. Your escapade on Christmas Eve brought a few things to light. I’d wanted to wait until after you graduated college for you to marry, but the rest of your education will now be up to your husband.”
“I want to marry Rei.”
“Rei lost his chance when he and Emiliano took you away without permission. Zhdan is older and will keep you safe. We’ve identified another danger and reason to join forces with Myshkin.”
“Older? How much older?”
“He’s thirty-two.”
“Rei is only twenty-five.”
“Jasmine, stop talking about Reinaldo. Your future is set with Zhdan. We’ve identified another reason for you to marry sooner rather than later.”
My temples pounded as I applied more pressure to my teeth. “Sooner?”
Dario nodded. “Your mother, Leah Renner, has been released on parole. You don’t need to know much about her, other than she’s bad news. If she finds out where you’ve been and who you’ve been living with for the last thirteen years, she will try to exploit you. Having the famiglia and the bratva behind you will make that impossible.”
My mother.
“She’s never tried to contact me. What makes you think she will now?”
“Our soldiers learned that after your appearance at the Green Lady Lounge, your identity was confirmed. Zhdan was at the lounge. His father had already brought up the idea of you wedding Zhdan. Once his son saw you, he became determined.”
“Saw me.” I shook my head. “There were a lot of people there.”
“Your mother has a way of finding the wrong crowd. When she learns that I’m your guardian and Zhdan Myshkin wants to marry you, she’ll see dollar signs. You’re no longer a child. I could handle this my way, but it seemed like you should know what’s happening.”
“Your way…is…” I stood, meeting his gaze. “What?”
“Eliminate the issue.”
I nibbled on my top lip. “Eliminate—kill? Maybe my mother wants to know me.”
Dario pressed his lips together. “The alliance with the cartel has worked. Your marriage will broaden our alliance to include the bratva. Your mother exploited your sister for money and drugs. A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”
“Do you have proof that she’s out?”
Dario walked around to the other side of his desk. Shuffling through some papers, he pulled out a gallon-sized plastic bag with pictures inside. “Are you sure you want to see these? ”
No longer trembling, I straightened my neck and nodded. “I’m not a child. I want to know what you know about her.” I extended my hand.
Dario gave me the plastic bag. “Our men took these pictures a week ago.”
Sitting, I opened the bag and pulled the photographs out. The first one was of a dark-haired woman sitting on a bar stool with a cigarette between her fingers. “That’s my mother?” I tried to feel something for the woman in the picture, but there was nothing.
“That’s Leah Renner.”
“Where is she?”
“I thought you said you went to the Green Lady Lounge.”
“I did, but the walls were red,” I replied.
“This was taken downstairs.”
I didn’t go downstairs.
I flipped to the next picture. The same woman was talking to a blond man.
“Our soldiers have confirmed that she has been asking questions about you. We believe she’s planning on pitting the bratva against me or vice versa. The news of our ceasefire and potential alliance isn’t widely known, and it has some adversaries, people who don’t want it to work. Whatever she’s doing, it’s a dangerous game she’s playing.”
“Can I help you somehow find out what’s happening?” I asked cautiously.
“You’re not being used as bait for any part of this war. ”
“It seems like you’ve already made me part of it, an offering to the enemy.”
Muscles in the side of his face pulled taut. “That isn’t what you are.”
I stood. “Then let me decide who I marry.”
“You’re not getting caught up in whatever Leah Renner has planned. Zhdan saw you and wants you. That makes you valuable.”
My heart pounded in my chest. “Am I?”
“Are you…what?”
“Valuable, in your eyes.”
His nostrils flared as he walked back to the other side of the desk and sat in his big chair. Placing his forearms on the desk, he lifted his gaze to mine. “If you don’t know the answer to that question, I’ve failed you and your sister.”
Tears prickled my eyes.
I retook my seat. “You haven’t failed. I just never really knew…”
“Then I failed.” He inhaled. “For that, I’m sorry.”
A miniscule bit of self-worth grew within me. I shook my head. “Please don’t be sorry. I have known I was safe and cared for. It’s that the famiglia?—”
“I’m now the famiglia, Jasmine. The others don’t matter. We’ve lost soldiers, so have the cartel and bratva. As I said, there are rogue soldiers who don’t want the agreement here in Kansas City to work. Last week, that danger hit close to home. Antonio, my cousin’s husband, was killed with a car bomb outside Emerald Club.”
“And by me marrying Myshkin’s son, that will somehow stop? What if you can’t trust them? What happens to me?” I had an idea. “Is Catalina a distraction with these wars?”
“Yes and no. Having people we care about is a liability. Catalina knows to stay safe.”
Rule follower.
“If I could decide for myself who I want to marry, I’d no longer be a distraction for you.” When he didn’t speak, I added, “I’d like my phone unblocked.”
“You will marry Zhdan. Neither Reinaldo nor Emiliano is your concern.”
My grip of the chair’s arms intensified. “I want to at least talk to them.”
“I’ve convinced Carmine that Isabella is of marrying age. She’s a Luciano. Jorge is thinking over the proposal.”
The small hairs on my arms rose to attention as his words shattered my fragile feeling of self-esteem. Unwilling to give into the tears burning my eyes, I kept my voice steady. “The answer you meant to give me earlier was that I’m not of worth or value, not enough for the cartel. You think you can substitute Isabella for me because of last names.” I stood.
“You’re not leaving the penthouse,” he said.
Turning, I gave him my best smile. “We’ll see.”