Chapter 33
33
I want to drive to Boston, rip Cernach’s head off, and throw it into the Charles River.
When he visited my office, I should’ve pulled out my pistol and shot the bastard dead.
I falsely believed I’d solved the dance-studio dilemma. Cernach was worried about Paul’s broke ass, so I assumed most of his attention was there. I stupidly failed to remember how cunning he is. Like me, he’s able to focus on numerous problems simultaneously.
That’s my mistake.
That shit is on me.
“We need to talk,” Antonio says as I sit in his passenger seat, post disposal of a man’s body who’d attempted to sexually assault a Lucky Kings employee in the parking lot.
It felt good, killing him, the release and satisfaction I needed.
As I bashed the man’s skull in, I imagined he was Cernach.
When I dug the grave, I pictured rolling his body into it.
I flick my Zippo open, watch the flame dance, and blow it out. “Yeah? ”
“Vinny is uncontrollable.” He massages the back of his neck. “More than he’s ever been.”
I nod in agreement. His brother’s recklessness is growing. He’s failing to realize that being boss—or next in line currently—doesn’t bestow immortality. Truth be told, it’s the contrary. People want to kill kings so they can become one.
That very reason is why Vinny is running his mouth about taking Cristian Marchetti down. He wants the throne of New York. Vinny is also too bullheaded to comprehend that his mistakes also become our mistakes to handle.
We've raised the issue during the family meetings Vinny has been absent for. Vincent is too blinded, too stubborn, to admit his eldest son isn’t fit for the job.
“I’m not even don, and I’m carrying the weight of this goddamn family,” he clips, stress lining his face.
Everyone knows Antonio will eventually become don.
Vincent will die, either by suffering another stroke or from pissing off the wrong person. Vinny won’t make it past forty. One of our enemies will murder his ass. Or one of us, honestly.
“In the next six months, we’ll be at war with the Marchettis,” he says, stating a fact and grinding his teeth.
I slip the Zippo inside my pocket. “You know I have your back.” My loyalty will always lie with Antonio, even above his father.
Damn sure over Vinny’s, boss or not.
Growing up, I used to beat the shit out of Vinny. Our fathers would make us fight in the backyard and place bets on who’d win. I always did. I should’ve bashed his skull in on the concrete and watched him bleed out while I had the chance.
“How’s the Cernach-Pippa situation going?” he asks.
“I’d enjoy digging a hole for Cernach in these woods, if that answers your question.”
“She seemed down last night.”
Pippa teaches Amara dance at his house three times a week now. He had the basement renovated into a dance studio. Allowing Pippa inside his home shows the truth about her character. He trusts very few.
“I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been tempted to drive to Boston and stab a knife through that ugly fucker’s heart.”
“I don’t want a war with the goddamn Irish, Damien.”
“No one said you have to fight it.”
“If you’re in a war, I’m in a war.” He blows out a long breath. “Have a sit-down with Cernach. Figure out a solution.”
“The only solution he wants is for me to marry Pippa and create a business relationship between the families.”
“Have you discussed the possibility with my father?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Pippa doesn’t want to marry me.”
He whistles. “Damn.” It doesn’t take him but a few seconds for the truth to dawn on him. “She won’t marry you because it’s what Cernach wants.”
“Pippa might love me, but her hate for Cernach is stronger.”
“That’s a you problem then. Fix it. Make her love for you greater than her disdain for her bastard uncle.”
The topic of a dance studio hasn’t come up again. The folder of the real estate options sits on the island, unopened, like a grave for her dreams.
Instead of celebrating that night, we ordered takeout and hardly spoke. She went to bed early while I stayed up late, working.
Miscommunication leads to the death of relationships. I won’t risk losing the best thing that’s ever happened to me over unsaid words.
Pippa is working behind the counter when I enter Brew Bliss. I stand in line, tapping my foot, and order a black coffee. She whips around at my voice, nearly overfilling the cup she’s holding.
Emilio was supposed to take her home today.
Change of plans, sweetheart.
After she makes my coffee, I take a seat at the corner table, where I always sit. I once had to pay a man two hundred dollars to switch tables with me. If I hadn’t been in Pippa’s workplace, I’d have knocked him the fuck out.
I drop my coffee in the trash when her shift ends and walk her to the car. The fresh air, combined with her perfume and smell of espresso, makes my cock jerk. It’s been days since I’ve been deep inside her tight pussy, and fuck, I miss it.
Pippa snaps her seat belt in when we’re inside the Range Rover. “I didn’t expect you today.”
Turning in the driver’s seat, I cup the back of her head, drawing her to me. She licks her lips right before I devour her sweet mouth.
“I missed you,” I say. “I didn’t get any work done because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
She smiles against my lips. “You saw me last night.”
“Even a single moment from you is too long.”
Her face lights up. “I missed you too.”
I plant a kiss on the tip of her nose and pull out onto the street.
“Where are we going?” she asks when we turn in the opposite direction of home.
“It’s a surprise.” I drum my fingers along the steering wheel.
“Damien, the king of surprises,” she says with a giggle.
When we reach our destination, I park in front of the brick building. Pippa might get angry with me for doing this behind her back, but I don’t care. It’s better than her being at Cernach’s mercy.
“What’s this?” she asks when I help her outside and lead us toward the sidewalk.
I pluck a key from my pocket and hand it to her. “Your dance studio.”
It’s a small space but enough for what she needs. The front is a wall of streak-free windows, allowing a sneak peek inside. It’s a loft layout, one large room, and I’ve already scheduled setup to install all dance studio necessities.
“Let’s go see your new space.” I clasp her hand, leading her to the door.
She tries to hide it, but I don’t miss the way her hand shakes as she unlocks it. The smell of fresh paint wafts through the air when we walk inside.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I explain, closing the door behind us. “The space is in your name, and the rent is paid for the next ten years. The Lombardi family controls this block, so you’re safe.”
She’s quiet as her gaze slowly creeps around the room, taking in the space. I stand there, shoving my hands into my pockets, waiting in anticipation.
“Thank you,” she finally says, her voice as wistful as I know she’ll move around this space. Her eyes are teary when she finally turns to peer at me. “This …” She stops to swipe at her eyes. “I’ve never had someone do something so special for me. I love it, but?—”
“You can do whatever you want with it,” I interrupt, knowing she’s ready to reject my offer. Not only is she under Cernach’s thumb but she’s also under Enya’s. “Open a studio, or let it sit here and do nothing. It’s here if you ever need it.”
While I’ve offered to fully support her, she wants her own financial security. I want to give her that. My hope is she’ll convince Enya this is the right avenue to take .
I tenderly cup her face in my hands, using the pad of my thumb to clean her tears. I stare at her, transfixed and obsessed, fully aware I’m completely done for when it comes to her.
She gathers herself, inhaling deep breaths, and I grunt when she launches herself toward me. As I catch her, she wraps her legs around my waist, and I cup her ass cheeks to hold her in place.
“Thank you, Damien.” She loops her arms around my neck. “I love you.” She smacks a kiss to my lips. “I love you.” Another kiss . “I love you so damn much.” More tears fall down her face, smearing along my skin.
I lower her to her feet and give her a tour of the space. It’s simple, just how I wanted it. Pippa doesn’t need to worry about maintenance. I want her to have it easy here, to do what she loves without stress.
“You’re too good to me,” she whispers.
“I think you have it the other way around,” I say. “You’re too good for any man in this world, but somehow, you’ve lost your mind and settled for me.”
This woman is my everything.
I need to do all that I can not to lose her.
We stop at a local pizza joint for dinner.
Pippa takes a giant bite of pizza, and the cheese stretches from her mouth. She laughs, slicing through it with her finger, and swallows her bite.
“Cernach visited my office,” I tell her, leaning forward to wipe the corner of her mouth with my napkin.
“Is he still on his bullshit regarding marriage contracts?” she asks.
I nod as the server returns with water refills .
“You told him no, right?”
“I told him that’s your decision to make. Like you, I’m not a fan of arranged marriages.”
“Yet you were okay with having an arranged marriage with me?”
“Yes, because I’d marry you, contract or not, in a heartbeat.”
“Do the Lombardis have marriage contracts?”
“Arranged marriages are part of this life. My parents’. Antonio’s. All of ours.”
“Antonio’s? What happened to Amara’s mom?”
“Sienna overdosed.”
Pippa winces. “Wow. Poor Amara. Poor Sienna.”
Antonio wasn’t a bad husband to Sienna, but he was an absent one. He wasn’t cruel, but it was clear to everyone he didn’t want the marriage. Neither did she.
“Sometimes, when women aren’t happy in their marriages, they turn to things they shouldn’t,” I say. I was there during the aftermath of her death. I’m also around when Amara asks why she doesn’t have a mommy like other girls. “They find something to replace the love they don’t get from their husbands.”
It’s why I’ve always been against an arranged marriage. Vincent knows I’m loyal to the Lombardi family, but if there’s anything that’ll make me walk away, it’s them forcing me to commit to a woman I don’t want.
“Thank you for understanding me,” she says in a hushed voice, extending her arm across the table and taking my hand.
One thing Cernach’s dumbass doesn’t understand is that marrying Pippa wouldn’t guarantee a contract with the Lombardis. I’m not the don of the family. Hell, Lombardi blood doesn’t even flow through my veins.
The only way he’d score a guaranteed deal is with Vinny or Antonio .
I won’t tell him that, though, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep him from finding out.
Like a rodent that won’t go away, Cernach pays me another visit at the casino. It’s like I’m his goddamn caretaker at this point.
“Paul has been taken care of,” he says with pride, like I hired him to do the job.
I recline in my chair, crossing my arms behind my head. “What does that mean?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I regret asking it.
In a situation like this, I’d like to remain in the dark. That way, if Pippa mentions Paul, I won’t have to hide this from her.
He lifts his chin. “Consider this me doing you a favor.”
I jerk up in my chair and cock my head to the side. “Please tell me how Pippa’s father being taken care of is doing me a favor? I made it clear to you I didn’t give two fucks if the scumbag was dead or alive. He was your problem. Not mine.”
“He would’ve come to Pippa next, making her pay his debts. Did you want her in that situation?”
“And I told you, if that time came, I’d handle it then.”
Cernach snarls his lip at my lack of appreciation.
The fucker can suck my dick if he thinks I’d ever be grateful to him for shit.
He wiggles his finger in my direction. “Enya told me about your studio plan with Pippa,” he spits, his mood now the opposite of what it was when he entered my office. “Nice try, but no dice, Bellini.”
He leans back on his heels, and I mentally cross my fingers that he falls and cracks his head open.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t .
“As a man in the business of knowing your odds of winning, you should know you’ll lose this game.”
I smack my palms on my desk and rise to my feet. “Watch how you’re speaking to me, Cernach.”
“Pippa will always choose her mother. They’ve been through too much together. Keep playing games with me, and I’ll get Enya so far in my grips that Pippa will end up marrying any bastard I want. Might as well use the whore for something.”
I circle my desk and charge toward him. Before he can make a move to grab for a weapon, I snatch him by the collar and shove him against the wall.
He laughs when I get in his face. “I’m a boss , boy. You’re a worker .” He grunts out a laugh. “Vincent Lombardi will raise hell if you harm me because he knows it’d start a war. I’ll ask him for your head, or I’ll kill half the Lombardi men and everyone in this shithole casino.”
I grind my teeth, hating the accuracy of his words.
“Leave Pippa alone.” I slam my hand against the wall, only inches from his face. “Boss or not, I’ll destroy you.” I swiftly pull back, the blood in my veins on fire. If I don’t get away from him, I’m bound to do something that’ll cause a shit ton of problems.
Cernach straightens his suit. “You’re disrespecting the wrong man, Damien.”
“And you’re underestimating the wrong man, Cernach.”