Chapter 23
L EILANI
The next day
The atmosphere is sober, to say the least. There’s a convoy of black cars. No one has made a secret out of the fact that this will be a heavily armed group.
They make a point out of it.
They need to.
We may be going to a party, but this isn’t just any party.
We all know what this is.
Although Callum has never gotten into the specifics, I know a war is brewing on the horizon, and I’m at the center of it.
Once a deal has been reached, things will start unfolding, and many people’s lives won’t be the same.
Ours included.
So, no wonder it feels like we’re attending a funeral.
He wears a sharp, three-piece black suit, while I wear a copy of the red gown he ruined last night.
His touch is no longer accessible to me.
We agreed we need to walk together, just not look like we are a couple.
Let them drown in suspicions but never confirm them, he’d said to me before we left.
Not yet, he also said.
There would be a time for us, he added.
Right now, the most important thing is to win this war.
I have my hair pulled up in a sophisticated bun, and diamond earrings grace my earlobes.A matching ring, a gift from him, sparkles on my finger.
I look calm. I’m nothing but.
I learned a thing or two from him.
How to control my emotions, keep them at bay, and not let them take over me.
How to hope for the best, and prepare and brace for the worst.
How to fight fiercely.
Not a muscle moves on his face.
He looks out the window, sunk in thought.
Two of his men travel with us. Plus, the driver.
Cosimo travels in a different car. He holds the line outside the city, ready to intervene if things slip out of control.
Other people protect our home.
It’s a war procession more than anything else.
It’s also a time of reflection and contemplation.
We’ve come so far.
He and I.
He’s revealed to me who he really is.
And I showed him what his love could do to me.
He seems happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen him. And I’m over the moon.
It’s just that now, those feelings are tucked back, hidden in our souls.
The sun has already dipped below the horizon, leaving a red, orange, and purple canvas in its wake as we move slowly inside a large property on the outskirts of Taormina.
Not far from here, his men lie in wait.
He shifts his eyes to me.
“Ready?” he asks coldly, not really looking at me.
“Yes.”
“You know what you need to do.”
“Yes, I do,” I confirm.
His hand gives mine a brief squeeze just as the convoy slows down to a stop in front of a large property already filled with guests.
“Wait for my signal,” he says to all of us.
We wait a few seconds before the first people climb out of the cars in front of us and give him the signal that everything is all right.
“Let’s go,” he says, and we all get ready to exit the car.
A moment later, I set foot on a fine gravel pathway, straighten my back, and square my shoulders.
A circle forms around us within seconds.
Armed men, his body shielding mine.
As far as I can tell, this looks like any other party. The house is beautifully decorated, and the garden is filled with strings of light.
Elegant men and women serve as props in this story without even knowing. Not everyone present here is part of the criminal world.
It looks very much like my birthday party.
A few seconds pass before the host, a woman about Sylvia’s age, walks toward us.
She wears a smile and talks to Callum.
A curious glance comes in my direction, and as she’s introduced to me, I learn she is Varela’s sister.
“He’s waiting for you,” she says. “Let’s go inside,” she suggests before we all move toward the house.
She leads us to a large room open on both sides of the house. Guests roam the backyard, where tables dressed in white linens sit, and servers, dressed sharply, carry trays of food and drinks.
As we walk inside, the men escorting us pull away from us slightly, creating a circle around Callum and me.
We make quite an entrance, judging by the guests' reaction.
A lot of ohs weave through their murmurs.
Some guests sit at the tables inside. Others stand, holding drinks and chatting.
A group of men stands by the exit in the back, where the breeze unsettles the women’s dresses.
Some of them look familiar, and as I look that way, I recognize the Sandoval Brothers.
Their drinks stop midair as they look at me, with a stunned expression on their faces.
They quietly greet Callum before devouring me with curious eyes.
They can’t look away as we walk past them.
One man stands out in their group.
His back is turned to us, his shoulders broad.
He shifts a little, aware that something important is happening behind him, and a devilishly handsome face enters my line of sight.
A jolt zaps through me in recognition.This can only be Andrea Mancuso, the man nicknamed Il Draco for his wicked ways of handling business, and women in particular.
A tattoo crawls up his neck as he looks at me with possessive eyes.
I glance at Callum, who seems fully aware of the group’s obsession with me.
It’s part of the plan.
Marco’s green eyes glint with a knowing smile, as if Callum and I can’t fool him that we aren’t together.
Toni Sandoval’s amber eyes burn quietly beneath a canopy of eyelashes.I wouldn’t trust him with my luggage, let alone my life.
Maybe I bit the bullet with them.
For sure, I have.
The woman makes a small gesture to stop us before informing Callum that Varela will be conferring with him in a room upstairs.
“She’s coming with me,” he announces dryly.
The woman looks confused, not knowing what to say.
“Go tell him. She’ll be in the room with us, or we'll go home.”
The determination in his voice leaves no room for negotiations. She nods in acknowledgment and asks us to wait for a moment.
We remain standing, not far from the group of men across from us.
Mancuso has a cheeky attitude, which is probably nothing compared to how he is when he’s alone.
Callum abhors the attention that I get from him, so he turns to me and blocks Mancuso’s view.
No longer able to see them, I scan the people in the house.
My grandparents should be here, shouldn’t they?
It would be odd if they weren’t here. It would also look suspicious.
Quick footsteps alert us that the woman’s back.
She approaches us with a fake smile on her face.
“Giorgio and Sylvia should be here momentarily.”
Callum says nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“Leilani can come in, too.”
She barely finishes saying that when I notice my grandmother’s shiny hair across the room.
A blue dress hugs her body, her grin as conceited as always. Giorgio accompanies her, wearing a gray suit.
They look like such a distinguished couple, yet they are so rotten inside.
A sick sensation nibbles at my stomach, and I almost reach for Callum’s arm, but I refrain from touching him at the last moment.
I don’t feel much better when they approach us.
Sylvia’s eyes move over me before Giorgio glances in my direction, hoping to lock my eyes.
I ignore their curious looks and keep my composure, not letting out a shred of emotion.
The change in my behavior briefly disconcerts them before they move their focus away, and we all follow Varela’s sister into a hallway that leads upstairs.
CALLUM
Next time, I’ll break Mancuso’s neck.
I wanted this reaction from them.
All of them.
And I got it.
They looked at her as if they’d never seen her in their lives. As if she came back from the dead or something.
They couldn’t believe their eyes.
Assholes.
They thought she was too much trouble. Now she’s mine, and they’d better stay away from her.
They shouldn’t even smile when she’s in the room, or bullets will be flying.
On the other hand, she did well.
I thought she’d lose it for a moment. She didn’t like meeting her family again.
Who would?
I don’t like them either. They’re part of the problem, and now they’ll be part of the solution.
We reach our destination, and my men guard the door as we enter a large dining room.
Giorgio has his bodyguards with him, and I’m sure Varela’s men are not far either.
We walk into the room, where Stefano Varela sits at the table. Some of my men walk in, while the rest wait outside.
Giorgio signals to his bodyguards to wait for him outside as well. I’m glad we’re all on the same page.
Varela’s eyes move over Leilani as I pull the chair for her. Unaware of his stare, she slides into her seat.
He’s never been a looker, and growing old hasn’t done him any favors.
His features are dipped in poison, and his beaded eyes are impossible to trust.
I sit next to her, while Giorgio and Sylvia occupy seats across from us.
Leilani sits to my left while Varela rests his elbows on the table at the end of the table to my right.
Within the next few moments, I go over my list of requests without the slightest introduction.
His first question arrives quickly.
“Why New York? We could have the wedding here.”
“Most of our guests are from New York. Besides, it’s where she grew up. She’d prefer to have the wedding in New York,” I say. “This is non-negotiable.”
“What is?” Varela sneers.
“Not much. Why would you argue with her terms, anyway? You’re getting her in the end. Isn’t that enough?” I say, looking straight into his eyes.
He searches my eyes, trying to understand what role I will play in this in the end and what I’m after.
I go on.
“This is how we do this. I keep her till I walk her down the aisle and deliver her to you. I can vouch that she's still a virgin. Once she says I do, I’m relieved of any obligations to all of you. I keep my territory and never do business with either of you again.”
The last few words are a decoy, a mere distraction from what I said before.
The three people at the table look at Leilani, whose face is crimson from a blush.
Varela speaks first, as the Gallos can’t stifle their surprise.
“You can vouch she’s a virgin? Unless you had a doctor check her, how can you tell?”
“I had a doctor check her. Here.”
I reach inside my pocket, retrieve a folded piece of paper, and put it on the table.
“This is a copy of the doctor’s findings,” I say, pushing it to him.
Leilani doesn’t bat an eyelash, although we’ve never discussed this issue before.
She didn’t know I’d procure this piece of paper and come up with this story.
Stefano Varela picks it up and looks at it, while Sylvia Gallo shifts in her seat.
“She’ll need to see one of my doctors, too,” Stefano says, unimpressed.
I collect the piece of paper with a cold smile and tuck it back inside my pocket.
“She won’t. As I said before, she won’t leave my side. Not for a doctor. Not for a friend of yours. Not for her family. I’ll get her ready for the wedding. She is my leverage. Without her, there is no deal. You’ll get her when she says I do. Not a moment earlier.”
Varela looks at Giorgio.
They both make my skin crawl.
“Did you know about this?” he asks Giorgio, who seems lost for words.
The idea that these two had talked about whether Leilani was a virgin makes me want to crush their skulls.
Varela moves his eyes to Sylvia.
“What about you?”
Sharp disrespect beams in his voice.
She says nothing, so he turns his focus to me.
“How come no one in her house knew she was still a virgin?” he asks me.
“She fooled me, too. I was just as surprised.”
My words ring true because they are.
Varela sucks in a long breath before he speaks again.
“All right. Your requests are accepted, but I’ll pick the venue.”
“Do that. Make sure it’s a nice one,” I say with a hint of humor in my voice, which is borderline sarcasm.
The line is so thin that he can’t make up his mind whether I took a shot at him or not.
“It was nice doing business with you,” I say, rising.
His eyes follow me.
“Wait, aren’t you staying at the party?” Varela mutters.
“We have things to do tomorrow morning. Besides, have you seen those men outside? I can’t have their eyes on her.”
With that, I tilt my chin in a clipped goodbye, help Leilani out of her chair, and, under the stunned stares of the three people at the table, I walk her out of the room.
The trip to our cars seems shorter as we avoid the first floor, go around the house, and reach our rides in record time.
A sigh of relief leaves everyone’s lips as we pull away from the lit house in Taormina.
As we move away, I finally look at Leilani, who hasn’t said a word all this time, and I gently touch her hand.
“Are you all right?”
She nods, eyes sparkling with emotion.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Leilani?”
She finally pulls out of her stillness, leans closer to me, her hand on my arm as she whispers in my ear.
“I just need you.”