10. Sly
“We need to talk,” Enzo tells me as he rounds the leather couch in my family’s study, swirling a lowball of whiskey as he walks.
Already seated, my legs are spread wide in front of me as I perch my elbow on the armrest, my own whiskey in hand. I’ve been waiting for him, knowing this moment was coming.
We’d made it through a lovely day spent with my family, catching up. They listened to stories of the Sinners and filled me in on everything that’s been happening here in New York.
Dinner was delicious. Mamma made my favorite dish—spaghetti and meatballs with her homemade sauce. But as she and Federico cleaned the kitchen, and Guilio and my father retreated to his office to discuss my brother’s newest hedge fund, I made my way to the study, knowing it was only a matter of time before Enzo followed.
“I’m surprised you waited this long to seek me out.”
“Because we’ve had so much time to speak alone? You’re lucky I stayed.”
“And you’re lucky I am sitting here, willing to hear what you have to say after you all but drove me out of town,” I hiss.
Looking at the empty fireplace, I force myself to take a sip of my whiskey, letting the alcohol sit on my tongue while I bite back the rest of the words I want to say to him.
He’s silent for several minutes, taking a seat next to me on the couch, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he props his elbows on his knees and stares straight ahead like I am.
“You fell in love with the enemy,” he says simply, his voice devoid of emotion.
“She is not the enemy,” I growl. “She is not responsible for her father’s actions.”
We turn to face each other at the same time, both of us on edge.
“She shares the last name and the DNA of the man who killed my dad. That makes her the enemy, just as much as he is.”
“If you truly believe that, then your ignorance runs deep. She is the kindest, most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, let alone loving.”
He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Then why did you leave? Why is she marrying another man?”
My jaw tics as I grit my teeth. Looking down at my glass, I curb my anger and swallow my pride. “I don’t know. There is something off with the entire scenario that I cannot figure out.”
I can feel my eyes well with tears again and I tilt my head toward the ceiling, shaking it slightly. I have never been this emotional of a man, but when it comes to Vincenza, it’s like my soul is torn in half, and the piece I still possess is battered and bloodied, laid out in front of me.
When I look back at my cousin, his expression has softened as he watches me.
Lorenzo has been my best friend since I was a child. We grew up together. Became brothers after his father passed. This wedge between us cuts almost as deeply as the one between me and Vinnie.
“She came to visit me in Ridgewood after I was shot,” I continue. “I could feel the love between us was just as powerful as the day I left. The way she spoke—the way in which she let me hold her and touch her. Yet, she still insisted she was marrying him. Something is not right, Enzo. I just can’t put my finger on what it is.”
The words flow from my lips as though there is no animosity between us. He is simply my cousin again, and I am no longer angry. There are still many things we need to speak about to repair what has been broken, but at this moment, I just need my cousin.
“August is a piece of shit,” he says after a minute of thinking. “While I’ve been researching Joseph, I’ve been looking into August, too. They’re both terrible excuses for humans.”
“Why are you researching them?”
Enzo’s eyes darken, narrowing slightly as a smirk graces his features. “To destroy them.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Enzo?—”
“The Paladino family has gotten away with far too much, Sly. I won’t let this go. Not until I feel the weight of what they’ve done lift from my shoulders. It’s been a heavy load to bear since I was a child. The Paladinos are not a good family, despite how much you say you love Vinnie. You know this.”
“Sì, I do. Her brother—August. They’re not good men.”
“Neither is their old man.”
I nod, agreeing with my cousin but silencing my words. I expect the conversation to be finished, but what he says next surprises me.
“Does she really mean that much to you?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod. “The world. Trust me, cugino, I never thought I would fall for a Paladino. I fought against it for a long time, but ours is a love that could not be stopped no matter how much I tried.”
There is a turmoil in his eyes, but after a moment, his head bounces with a few soft nods. “I’m not sure I can ever accept her, given who she is. But if she makes you as happy as you say she does, I won’t stand in your way.”
My chest inflates with relief. It’s not acceptance, but it’s a start, and I feel the anger between us dissipating. “Grazie. Having to choose between la mia famiglia or amore mio is not something I want to do. I am confident you will grow to love her. She has that effect on people.”
“We’ll see,” he says skeptically. “So what are you going to do about the wedding, now that you’re back?”
“What is there to do about it?” I ask. “She says she is set in her decision. There seems to be some hold over her, making her committed to seeing this through.”
“And that’s enough to keep you dormant? That doesn’t seem like the Sly I know.”
“Sully told me something that’s been bothering me. He ran into her at the market, and she was acting strange. She was jumpy and wouldn’t make eye contact with him.”
“Well, that’s not surprising, since Sully is a giant child. Maybe she just doesn’t like him?”
A small chuckle leaves me, but it doesn’t feel sincere. “I don’t think that is it. He said she was playing with her necklace a lot, almost in a way that was subconscious.”
“Not exactly a red flag, but I’ll take your word for it as being odd. So what do you think is going on?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly. Exasperation fills my chest—a sense of helplessness.
“Isn’t the wedding soon? Next weekend, right?”
“This weekend.” I swallow thickly. “The wedding is this weekend.”
Silence fills the study again, and moments later footsteps approach before Mamma pops her head around the door. “Would you boys like some gelato?”
Enzo laughs, standing with his glass in his hand. He tosses back the remaining sip of his whiskey and walks toward Mamma.
“Zia, do men eat gelato?” he teases.
She pushes the door open further and pulls the dish towel from her shoulder, swatting it at his chest lightly. “Yes, Lorenzo, they do. Antonio, Federico, and Guilio are already enjoying their bowls. You’re never too old for gelato.”
Mamma meets my gaze from across the room and offers me a smile.
“You’re right, Mamma,” I agree. “You go on, Enzo. I have a quick phone call to make, then I will join you both in the kitchen.”
Unspoken words pass between us as he looks over his shoulder at me.
Yes, I am going to call her.
He nods, then gently pushes his palm against Mamma’s back to guide her out of the room. When the door”s soft click sounds behind them, I remove my phone from my pocket.
As I unlock it, I see Sullivan’s text message from earlier. I forgot about it and never responded, so I call him first.
The phone rings twice before he sends me to voicemail, and a banner message illuminates across my screen.
Sully
Can’t talk right now!
Shaking my head, I find Vinnie’s contact instead.
The phone rings and rings, but when I’m certain it’s about to turn over to voicemail, her soft words float through the speaker.
“Hello?” Her voice is quiet, but I can hear her smile.
“Hello, piccola ladra,” I say as I stand, unable to resist smiling myself.
“Sly,” she breathes, and my name on her tongue is like music to my ears.
“How are you, Vincenza?”
“I’m good. Busy. Are you out of the hospital? How are you feeling?” Her questions rapidly fire, and I imagine the look of concern on her face.
“I am healing nicely. The pain is minimal, and sì, I’ve been discharged from the hospital. I’m home now.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “I bet your friends are incredibly relieved to have you back.” There is a fake layer to her tone, and my brow furrows at the way her voice grows higher as she says the words I can tell she doesn’t mean.
“I’m in Manhattan.”
She gasps.
“Meet up with me, piccola ladra. Let me see you again.”
“Sly… We’ve said our goodbyes…”
“I am not ready for goodbye. I love you too much to say goodbye to you. Meet up with me.”
“I can’t meet you, Sly.”
“Vinnie…”
“I can’t. If I see you again…” Her voice cracks, and the splintering radiates through my heart.
I can sense where this conversation is heading, and even though I’m putting her on the spot by asking her to meet, she can’t possibly be blindsided by it. She knows where my heart lies.
Annoyance blooms with me with the realization that I am physically so close to this woman, yet mentally we’re so far apart. She has no reason to marry August—no reason in which she will tell me—but it’s the unknown that plagues my mind and causes me to wonder.
“You’ll what, Vincenza?” I bite, hating my tone, but unable to hide the emotion that flows through me. “You’ll allow yourself to feel the truth? What happened between us while I was in the hospital…what I felt…what I feel. I know you felt it too.”
There’s a silence on the other end of the phone, and I almost think she’s hung up. But her soft breaths indicate that she hasn’t, and seconds later I hear her inhale a sharp, shuddering breath.
“I won’t be able to stay away,” she whispers, and even though I cannot see it, I hear the quiver in her voice.
It breaks me.
Sitting back down on the soft leather couch, I run my hand through my hair. “You don’t need to stay away, piccola ladra. I’m back, and if you want to be with me—if you break off your engagement with August—there will be no questions asked. I will not let the past haunt us, Vincenza. I will spend our future protecting you. Cherishing you. I love you. I haven’t stopped loving you.”
“I can’t.” Her voice is pleading, filled with turmoil and strife.
My hand balls into a fist as I bring it to rest on my thigh, slamming it down in frustration. “Vinnie?—”
“Just…please, Sly,” she cuts me off. “I can’t do this. My wedding is the day after tomorrow. I’m marrying August.”
“Tell me why you were acting strangely when you ran into Sully at the market.”
“He told you he saw me?” she asks, surprised.
“Sì, of course he did.”
Leaning back against the sofa, I settle in, forcing myself to regain my composure as I cross my ankle over my knee. The only thing I want to do is race out of this house and go find her, but I know in my heart that will not solve anything in this moment. I need to hear her.
A soft crackling rustles against the phone speaker as though she’s adjusting it.
“I wasn”t feeling well when I saw him,” she says matter-of-factly.
My jaw clenches at her casual response.
She’s not telling me something. I can hear it in her voice that she’s avoiding the truth, and I can’t ignore the nagging feeling deep in my stomach—something Sully mentioned repeats itself continuously through my mind. There are two things, actually, but only one I will address at this moment, needing to know if my instincts are correct.
“Vincenza,” I begin, hoping my voice comes across calmer than I feel inside. “How long have you worn a locket?”
Through the speaker, I hear a small gasp. “I—what does my necklace have to do with this conversation?”
“It has everything to do with this conversation if your necklace means what I think it does,” I growl, unable to conceal the exasperation in my voice.
Pushing to my feet again, I begin to pace in front of the unlit fireplace. “How long have you worn a locket, Vinnie?”
It’s silent on the other end of the line, but I know she’s still there. Squeezing my eyes shut, I beg her to tell me without saying the words aloud.
“I purchased it after you left,” she tells me so quietly, it’s barely a whisper.
My heart falls to my stomach, crashing past the other organs as it sinks deeper and deeper, her words one step closer to confirming my fears.
As calmly as I possibly can, I ask the question I’m terrified to know the answer to. “Is he hurting you, Vincenza?”
We both go quiet once the words leave my lips—the only sounds coming through the phone are those of our soft breaths.
She doesn’t answer the question.
“Are you using your safe word, piccola ladra?”
Locket.
Her safe word.
The word she’d selected as her safe word when she first learned of my preferences in the bedroom. The word selected for if things became too much for her.
As a pleasure dominant, I have no intention of ever hurting her, but the line between pleasure and pain is thin, and everyone has a limit, so I made her choose something that would indicate she felt uncomfortable, in pain, or just simply wanted things to end. All she needed to do was say the word and I would stop what I was doing immediately, no questions asked.
Perhaps this is her way of telling me without words that, whatever was happening, she wants it to stop.
It’s entirely possible that I am reaching with my assumption, but when Sully told me she mindlessly toyed with her necklace—her locket—during his entire encounter with her, it brought back memories to her in my hospital room. She played with the locket then, too, when she was lost in her mind or trying to avoid the heaviness of some of our conversation.
A door slams in the background, and Vinnie sighs. “I’m getting married in two days, Sly. I can’t do this. I have to go.”
“Answer the question, Vincenza.”
I hear her walking, and another door shuts lightly. Then, water begins to run in the background.
“I know you don’t agree with my choice, but it’s time for you to listen to me,” she says, her voice low. The water sounds close to her, and it makes me think she’s turned it on for a reason. A deep feeling of protectiveness rushes through me, but then she continues on, cutting through my thoughts. “I don’t love him, Sly. But I am marrying him on Saturday. My mind is set in this decision. I’m sorry.”
A smile upturns my lips despite what she’s just said, and hope blossoms in my chest.
Hope. I haven’t felt that in many months.
She doesn’t love him.
She’s already told me as much, but to hear her reiterate it resonates differently this time.
“Do you love me, piccola ladra?” I ask, praying she’ll tell me the truth. The only thing I want to hear is that she still loves me, too. Everything else we can handle together.
I stop pacing and hold my breath until she answers.
“Sly…”
“Do you love me, Vincenza? Because love is not a strong enough word for what I feel for you. My entire existence was created simply for you. My heart calls to you. It sings your name, and beats solely for you. I would move Heaven and earth if?—”
“Of course I love you, Sly. God, I love you so much it’s killing me. Every day, you’re all I can think of. You’re the only reason I get up in the morning and lay my head on the pillow at night.”
“Then why?”
“I have to go. Please, feel some semblance of peace knowing my heart is yours. It will always be yours, but there are things I can’t explain to you. Please, just let me go.”
“Is he hurting you?” I ask again, the unanswered question pushing its way to the forefront of my mind again.
“I have to go.”
The line goes dead, and immediately a roar bellows from my chest as I throw my phone. It lands with a thud against the couch and I see a new shade of red.
My rage is a deep shade of burgundy, so dark it’s nearing black.
She never answered the question.
She was jumpy and nervous when Sully saw her.
She flinched when he reached for her.
Her silence speaks volumes, and with sudden clarity I realize the answer has been in front of me this entire time.
I feel my monster clawing his way out, and this time I have no intention of pushing him away.
August is hurting the love of my life. Physically, and likely threatening her in some way. Vincenza is a strong woman. She wouldn’t agree to marry him—especially if he’s putting his hands on her—unless there is something monumental being held against her.
I can feel it. Hear it in the words she doesn’t speak aloud.
But I have no proof. Not yet, anyway.
As the monster within me claws closer to the surface, I know what must be done. A plan begins to form in my mind and I know exactly how I can guarantee Vinnie’s safety for the rest of our lives.
Leaving was the worst thing I could have done for us, and it’s time to start making up for lost time.
The first thing I need to do is get her far, far away from August.
Then I’ll ensure he never sees the light of day again.