The Bonventi Secret (The Bonventi #1)

Chapter 1 Livia

Ilean against the wall, watching it all unfold with a sense of giddy satisfaction.

My fingers toy with the skull pendant around my neck—my good luck charm.

And damn, it has worked. The fellowship is mine.

Funding secured. My ticket to diving headfirst into the deliciously macabre world of Victorian literature and finishing my PhD dissertation by the end of the year.

"Livia! Congratulations!" Dr. Hawkins, my Victorian lit PhD advisor, shouts over the noise. He is attempting what I can only assume is his version of the robot, his suit jacket askew and a rare smile on his usually stern face.

I grin, the warmth of cheap wine and victory coursing through me. "Thank you! I still can't believe it!"

"You earned it," he says, pausing his dance to adjust his glasses. "Your proposal on the psychological implications of Edgar Allan Poe's use of the uncanny was brilliant."

My mind drifts to my working dissertation title—"Corpses, Consumption, and Carnal Desires: The Erotic Undertones of Victorian Macabre Literature.

" God, it's going to be glorious. I can already picture the stuffy faces of the dissertation committee as I explain, in exquisite detail, how Stoker, Poe, Shelley, and others had basically written Victorian-era porn.

My eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.

Where is he?

I'd hoped to finally make my move tonight, riding high on the confidence of my fellowship win and the liquid courage provided by the boxed wine.

"Looking for someone?"

I turn to find Megan, a fellow English lit grad student, grinning at me knowingly. Her curly hair is even wilder than usual, and her cheeks are flushed from dancing.

"Maybe," I say, trying to sound nonchalant. "Have you seen Jake around?"

Megan's grin widens.

"Oh, you mean that hot psych research assistant you're always talking about? Last I saw, he was by the makeshift bar the philosophy students put together. You know, the one with all the handles of bottom-shelf vodka."

I laugh. "Classy. Thanks, Meg."

"Go get him, tiger," she says with a wink before disappearing back onto the dance floor.

I make my way through the crowd, weaving through clusters of students engaged in animated conversations. A group of philosophy students is huddled in a corner, debating the merits of existentialism versus absurdism while a circle has formed around two engineering students attempting to breakdance.

Boxed wine brings out the best in us, I think to myself and laugh at their moves.

As I approach the bar, I catch sight of him.

Jake stands with his back to me, talking to a small group of psych students.

Even from behind, he is unmistakable—broad shoulders, wavy brown hair just long enough to run your fingers through, and an ass that could make a girl forget about her PhD dissertation entirely.

I bite my lip, my mind wandering to less academic territory.

I imagine those strong hands pinning mine to the wall, Jake's eyes dark with desire as I tease him with whispered passages from "Carmilla.

" His breath short and quick as I trace the curve of his neck, explaining the erotic subtext of vampire bites.

I shake my head, trying to clear the increasingly vivid fantasy. The wine is clearly hitting me harder than I'd realized.

But as I watch Jake laugh at something one of the students says, I make a decision. This is my night, dammit. I just won a prestigious fellowship, I look hot as hell in my little black dress, and I'm done waiting. I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and walk over to him.

"Hey there, stranger," I say, sliding up next to Jake with what I hope is an inviting smile.

He turns, his face lighting up when he sees me. "Livia! Congrats on the fellowship! That's huge."

"Thanks," I say, letting my hand rest on his arm. "I'm still processing it, to be honest. But tonight, I just want to celebrate."

Jake's eyes flicker down to where my hand touches his bicep, then back up to me.

Was it my imagination, or did his pupils dilate slightly?

"Well," he says, his voice a touch lower than before, "I'd be happy to help you celebrate."

The air between us turns heavy and thick with lust. I am acutely aware of how close we are standing, of the warmth radiating from his body.

"You know," I say, leaning in closer, "I've been thinking about asking you out for coffee for weeks now. But I think I'm done with coffee."

Jake raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Oh? And what would you prefer instead?"

I meet his gaze head-on, my heart racing. "How about we get out of here, and I show you?"

For a moment, the party around us fades away.

It’s just Jake and me, standing there together.

Then someone bumps into me from behind, nearly causing me to spill my drink. The spell is broken, but the electricity between us remains.

Jake laughs, steadying me with a hand on my waist. "Careful there. Wouldn't want to ruin that dress."

I look up at him. "My place isn't far. We could continue this conversation somewhere a little less..."

My phone buzzes insistently in my purse. I pull it out, ready to silence whatever notification dares interrupt my mission.

But the name on the screen makes my chest tighten.

Gabriel.

My brother never calls unless it’s important. And "important" in Gabriel's world usually means trouble.

I hesitate, my hand frozen in mid-air, caught between touching Jake's arm again and answering the call that threatens to chase away the pleasant buzz of wine and success.

"Everything okay?" Jake asks, his face showing slight concern.

I force a smile. "It's my brother. I should probably take this. Give me just a minute?"

Jake nods, his concerned face shifting to a disappointed one before he masks it with an understanding smile. "Of course. I'll wait right here for you, Dr. Falcone."

"Not a doctor yet," I smile and turn.

I slip out of the crowded hall, the smell of cheap wine and sweat disappearing in the cool night air. My heels click against the concrete as I make my way to a secluded spot near some trees. With a deep breath, I slide to answer the call.

"Gabriel? What's going on?"

"Livia." His voice is firm. "I got your message about coming a few weeks late, but that won't work. You need to come to Chicago. Now."

I feel a flash of irritation and rage starting to build within me. "What? No, I can't just—"

"This isn't a request. Pack a bag. I'll have someone pick you up in an hour."

"An hour?" I sputter, my voice rising. "What the fuck, Gabriel? I'm at a party. I just won a fellowship, for Christ's sake. I'm not going to just drop everything and—"

"Livia." The sharpness in his tone makes me flinch. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. You know that."

I do know that. And it’s what terrifies me.

"Look," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I appreciate you looking out for me, but things are different now. I won this fellowship. It's huge, Gabe. I'll have the funds to finish my dissertation, defend it in the fall. I won't need you to cover my expenses anymore."

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. When Gabriel speaks again, his voice is softer, almost pleading. "I know how much your work means to you, Liv. But this... this is bigger than that. Please. Trust me."

I close my eyes, leaning against the rough bark of a nearby tree, my head slightly spinning from the boxed wine. "Gabe, I have plans. There's this guy, Jake. He's brilliant, he's gorgeous and—"

"Forget about him." Gabriel's voice is firm. "He's not important right now."

"Not important?" I say, feeling the anger overtake my irritation. "You don't get to decide what's important in my life, Gabriel. I'm thirty years old, for fuck's sake. I have a right to—"

"A right?" Gabriel's laugh is harsh, humorless. "Livia, you have no idea what's at stake here. What could be coming."

I wrap my free arm around myself. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you need to be on the last flight out of LAX for Chicago. Tonight." The firmness is back in his voice. "I'm sorry, Livia. But this isn't up for debate. Someone will be there in an hour. Be ready."

The line goes dead before I can respond.

I stare at my phone, my mind reeling. What the hell is going on? Gabriel has always been protective, but this is something else entirely.

I look back at Dodd Hall, the muffled sounds of the party drifting through the night air. Through the window, I can see Jake, him looking around the room for me.

My chest aches with frustration and disappointment. This was supposed to be my night. My celebration. My chance to finally act on the attraction that has been simmering between Jake and me for months.

But I know my brother. I know the world he lives in, even if I try to keep myself separate from it. If he says it’s important, it’s important, and if I blow him off, he'd have someone find me and drag me to the damn airport.

With a heavy sigh, I push myself away from the tree and make my way back inside. The warmth and noise hit me like a wave, but instead of bringing happiness, it wraps me in sadness.

As I approach Jake, I see the relief come over his face.

"Hey," he says, reaching out to touch my arm. "Everything okay?"

I force another smile, hating the lie even as it leaves my lips. "Family emergency. I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

Jake's face shows the sadness I’m feeling, but he nods. "Of course. Is there anything I can do?"

If he'd asked me 10 minutes ago, I could have given him a list of things he could do to me, but now, now that feeling is gone, and I know it’s over.

"No," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "But thank you. Rain check on that celebration?"

Jake smiles, but this time I can tell he is the one forcing it. "Absolutely. Take care of yourself, Livia."

I nod, then turn away before I can change my mind.

As I make my way through the crowd, I catch sight of Megan.

"Livia!" she calls out, waving me over. "What’s going on, girl? You going to finally—"

"No, unfortunately," I interrupt, my chest tight. "I have to go. Family emergency."

Megan's face sobers immediately. "Oh no! Is everything alright?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Call me when you can, okay?" Megan says.

With a final wave, I push through the doors and out into the night.

As I walk back to my apartment, my mind races. What could be so urgent that Gabriel would pull me away like this? And why do I have the sinking feeling that my carefully constructed academic life is about to come crashing down around me?

I look at the clock on my phone and quicken my pace. Whatever is coming, I have less than an hour to prepare for it.