Chapter 11 Francesca
Francesca
“This is bullshit, Frankie.”
“Please, Ronan? Mom refuses to come to New York with me.”
“She arranged the audition for you. Why wouldn’t she-”
“Her agoraphobia gets worse every year. It was a telephone call to an outsider who doesn’t know of our disgrace.”
“It’s not our disgrace, goddammit. How do I get that through both your heads?”
“If you take me while I’m there, how are we to ever get her out of Reno? We’ll find another way for you to get us to Boston.”
“Another way? You think opportunities to take you are something I snap my fingers and invent? Even if Enzo’s men aren’t the best, you are guarded around the clock.
And New York’s a helluva lot closer to Boston than Nevada.
No, if you’re left behind, they'll suspect you. It’s too much for you to risk over some girl who doesn’t like her intended. ”
“That girl is our cousin, and I know you’ve not forgotten that. You risk much as well, Ronan. But, someday, I hope we might live as a family again…”
Making sure the guard isn't coming, I allow myself to shed a few tears. He’s pissed, saying he knows I'm acting, but it still works, and he agrees to help. Plus, he knows Mom and I are kept safe, and there’s no way I’m leaving our uncles’ protection without her. Now for the hard part…
***
It’s been days since I was able to eat more than two bites, and my nerves are stretched so thin a car could backfire and end me. The audition alone would’ve been difficult to face. This is a whole other level of stress.
“Frankie Donnelly, please?” the gentleman in the tan coat calls from the front of the theater. This audition meant so much to me a short while ago. Now, it’s only window dressing for a larger act.
Twisting my lucky hair tie around my fingers, I stand.
Sofia brushes my hand as I pass along the row of theater seats, neither of us capable of speaking.
We’ve been close since we were little girls but especially the past three years.
This might be the last time I ever see her if Ronan gets her away and I never manage to escape.
My throat tightens with emotion. I have to focus or else I won’t be able to perform.
I look into Caterina’s worried brown eyes next. She doesn’t know the exact plan, just that there is one.
“Break a leg,” Armando says, affably. I try to summon a smile but can’t. He’s Alessio’s best friend and here as Caterina’s guard. He’s always been kind to me, even after our disgrace, but he’s a Made Man of the Trio and much more dangerous than his charm and good looks suggest.
I make it to the end of the row, hurriedly putting my hair up and gasping for air when my lucky hair tie snaps like a bad omen. I've had it for years. I always wear it when I sing in front of others.
“Francesca,” a warm voice husks from behind me, confirming all my good luck is gone. He must’ve stood after I passed Sofia’s seat and followed me to the aisle.
I reach down for my silver hair tie, huffing, “They’re waiting on me.” I’m glad I sound more annoyed than like someone shitting bricks right now.
“I won’t keep you. I wanted to say I appreciate you allowing us to crash your audition.”
“They’re waiting on me,” I repeat, no longer sounding annoyed. I can scarcely breathe for other reasons. It’s not fair. He doesn’t play fair.
Forlornly, I twist the broken hair tie between my fingers until Carlo gently takes it from me.
“I’m sorry it broke, but you don’t need a good luck charm.
Your beautiful voice will amaze them, with or without it.
I also want to apologize. For Reno. It was deeply dishonorable of me, Francesca, and you were right to refuse.
I deserved that slap and more. I sincerely apologize. ”
You could knock me down with a feather. Carlo Vicini is apologizing to me. “If you say it a third time, you might cast a magic spell,” I murmur, strangely fascinated by his large, masculine hand clutching something of mine.
“Then, I apologize for a third time, Red." His grin has that unwanted burst of butterflies taking over my belly yet again.
He deserves to be made a fool, I remind myself as I hurry to the stage.
The theater isn’t darkened for an audition.
I can see every face in the crowd. I lift my chin, summoning what courage I can find.
The music begins and, for the first few notes, I feel like I’m forcing it.
I try to look at tan coat and the lady sitting beside him.
They’ve done this a million times. Their expressions give away nothing.
I look five rows behind them. No, I can’t look at Sofia or Cat.
And then, my eyes find Carlo and, for no reason I can name, singing is the most natural thing in the world, with or without the stupid hair tie.
Those dark eyes are riveted on me, drinking in my every note.
There’s no guilt or doubt between us, only electricity.
I’m the star, and he’s savoring my performance.
It makes me feel powerful. Invincible. I don’t even notice Sofia slipping away to the bathroom as planned. I’m too busy singing for all I’m worth.
But one of the Vicini guards comes racing back into the theater, shouting, “She’s gone!”
I cover my mouth, feigning surprise, but I’m trying not to laugh. She got away! She did it. Ronan did it.
Except they didn’t.
When Carlo takes us all outside to continue the search, I spot my brother hurrying down the street in the distance. Alone. Where is Sofia if she’s not with him?
Carlo’s cold mask doesn’t disguise the rage lurking underneath as he crumples up a piece of paper the guard handed him inside. “Francesca, I want you and Mrs. De Luca to wait with my driver until more of my men arrive. You’ll be safer there.”
But when Caterina realizes her husband and brothers have arrived, she dashes across the street toward them, and I’m left alone with Carlo.
From the moment we met, he’s been a master at seeing right through me, and the look he gives me is unmistakable when he growls in my ear, “You are not at all shocked by this turn of events, are you?”