34. Liana
THIRTY-FOUR
LIANA
Present
T ick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
It was a countdown to a bomb about to go off. At least, that was the way it felt as I stared at the pendant hanging off my therapist’s neck that I’d somehow missed during my last visit.
The symbol was identical to the tattoo on Giovanni’s left hand. An emblem settled in the mouth of a skull.
“That’s an interesting pendant,” I muttered, unable to peel my eyes from it.
Dr. Anna Violet Freud met my gaze. “It belonged to my little sister.”
“Belonged?” She nodded. “Past tense?”
“Correct.” She reached for the pendant, her fingers twisting it, while my mind catalogued through all the men I’d seen that symbol on. My husband. Kian Cortes. And others. “It’s the only clue I have about her death.”
The ticking of the clock filled the thick silence as Dr. Freud watched me with a masked expression, but it was her eyes that betrayed her. Pain. An appetite for revenge. And the most devastating one: hope. Against all odds, she hoped that her sister was alive.
“I was told once that vengeance was a fool’s errand. I’m paraphrasing—it was a long time ago—but you get the gist.”
“And you agree?” she challenged.
I shrugged. “Revenge is sweet.”
“But?”
“Weren’t you the one who told me moving on is sweeter than revenge?”
“Moving on with answers, yes, and I’m still looking for those,” she clarified, her voice cracking on the last word. “However, today is about you. What does revenge mean for you?”
“Moving on,” I parroted without hesitation. “I can’t move on without—” killing her. The Mistress who’d taken so much from me. But I couldn’t utter those words. They were not for the world to hear. “I can’t move on until I get my vengeance.”
Darkness morphed into a house of mirrors, nightmares reflecting and facing me with my demons and sins.
“Why not just seek justice?”
I snickered. “I think we both know justice is a fairytale. But vengeance… it burns and devours. Vengeance satisfies.” I pinned her with a look. “You’ll understand when the time comes to avenge your sister.”
She stilled, fear gathering around her like a thundercloud. “You know something?”
I debated telling her. I couldn’t bear to see the hope in her eyes that she’d find her sister by some miracle—not while images flashed through my mind. The video of a young woman screaming while being tortured. She fought them tooth and nail, yanking that exact chain off her neck before dunking her into a tub filled with clear solution. Then, as if she never existed, her flesh dissolved.
The woman that died in my stead when Santiago decided to give me to Perez. It was to convince the world—and my mother—that I was dead.
“If you do, you have to tell me,” Dr. Freud demanded.
Was it mercy to extinguish that hope? I really didn’t know.
“I know she’s dead,” I finally said quietly, feeling her pain as if it were my own. Hope and despair were at war in her eyes. “I didn’t know who she was, but she was held in one of the Marabella Agreements. Like me.”
The words were spoken and out in the open. It was cowardly not to tell her that I was the one responsible for it all, and so fucking ironic that I and my protégé ended up being victims of it too.
“The man who?—”
“He’s dead,” I whispered, my voice catching.
Her hand flew to her necklace, twisting the pendant with trembling fingers.
“And this? What does this symbol mean?”
For a breath, I considered telling her about The Syndicator and Kian Cortes, but the truth was, I didn’t understand what that organization was about. I’d seen that symbol on Kian, but I’d betrayed him enough. He’d forgiven one offense, he wouldn’t another, regardless of the fact that I saved Amara’s life.
“I’m sorry,” I said, releasing a heavy sigh. “I don’t know anything more.”
She tilted her head, something dark and vengeful flashing in her eyes. Then before my next heartbeat, I watched as a mask slid into place, and I couldn’t help but notice similarities in my coping with trauma to hers.
“Thank you for that.” Her voice was professional and so was her expression. This was what made Dr. Freud a sought-after therapist. The woman could switch on her professional mode remarkably well. A little too well. “Now let’s focus on you.”
“Okay.”
But my sins and responsibilities weighed heavy on my chest, refusing to ease. Her gaze slid to my left hand.
“How come you don’t wear a wedding ring?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like the feel of metal on me.”
“Was it because you were tortured?” I inhaled sharply, sucking in a big gulp of air. Her gaze met mine as she added, “It’s a classic human response.”
“Chains, among other things,” I said coldly, and I watched disgust roll through her. Sometimes I wished I’d lose my memory and forget it all. A clean slate. A new beginning. A normal one. But I wasn’t granted such a reprieve. Instead, I remembered too well how my body had been degraded, how many times I’d screamed and fought, only to be overpowered and beaten into submission.
As if she could read my thoughts, Dr. Freud nodded.
“And have you gotten your vengeance, Liana?”
If she didn’t yet feel the very same hunger for revenge that burned inside me, she would. It would push her until she found her answers, just as it had been pushing me. It had twisted inside me until it stained my soul into something ugly and cruel. But these past few weeks, I’d been doing my best to heal, to discover what I wanted in this life of mine after finally trusting that the other shoe wasn’t about to drop.
And it was all thanks to my husband.
But I still wanted my vengeance. I wanted to find the woman who’d taken everything from me and turned me into this monster. Her death would be the only thing with the ability to end my nightmares and allow me to move on with Giovanni.
“Not yet, but I will.”
“Just remember that the cost can be too great.” Her expression remained unchanged. “Sometimes it’s best to leave the past behind us and focus on our future.”
Then why did it feel like she was reciting those words like it was her duty, not her belief?
The sun was just setting as Giovanni and I walked along the Boston streets, busy with people rushing to their destinations, cars honking, and street vendors shouting for our attention. We took an Old Town Trolley before strolling down Acorn Street, reminiscing about colonial Boston, before we left the old part of the city and headed away from the busy area.
Still processing everything from our meeting with Kian yesterday and my meeting with Dr. Freud this morning, I’d begun to ponder whether maybe she might have a point. Was it finally time to leave the past behind and focus on the future, on rebuilding relationships with my twin?
I hadn’t felt this good in such a long time, and it made me giddy with optimism.
With his black suit, green eyes, and sharp features, Giovanni belonged on the cover of GQ , not strolling down the street and certainly not in the mafia. I was wearing a simple blue dress that came down to above my knees. My hair fell down my back, and I wore a nude pink lipstick.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“I told you, we’re going on a date.” Giovanni’s eyes were vigilant, although his posture appeared casual. His hand was on my back, the touch so normal yet so foreign to me.“Now, let’s enjoy this stroll, wife, and stop questioning everything.”
My lips twitched, the warmth in my chest making me feel lighter than ever before. I liked Giovanni like this, handsy and affectionate. I could get used to this feeling, one that grew stronger every day I spent around him.
Taking a turn to the right, we entered an industrial area and made our way through more isolated streets. My gaze attentive, I scouted the area, wondering where he was taking me. I’d never been on a date, but I knew enough that normal people didn’t go to the industrial area for romance.
But then again, we weren’t exactly a normal couple.
We made our way down a dark alley, stopping in front of an unmarked metal door. Bang. Bang. Bang.
It didn’t take long for the heavy door to creak open.
Giovanni’s warm palm at the small of my back guided me into the club. A luxurious black granite bar lined the expansive back wall, and sleek bar stools surrounded a dance floor that was elevated and reminded me of a stage.
“A bar?” I croaked in disbelief. “Our first date is in a bar?”
He chuckled, his hand leaving my back. “It’s actually a dance club on some days. Today being one of them.”
“And other days?” I tilted my head, still following him deeper into the building.
“Other days, it’s a voyeur’s club.”
My head whipped around, almost causing me whiplash. “What?”
He found my surprise amusing. “Don’t worry, I’m not into all that. I just thought it’d be the easiest and safest club to visit since my brother-in-law owns it.”
My brows scrunched. “Do Declan and your sister partake in that stuff?”
“I don’t want to know, but considering he bought it for Marissa…” He gave his head a subtle shake. He lifted our joined hands, brushed his lips across my knuckles. “I’d rather focus on us. After all, this is our first date.”
My eyes fell to our joined hands, my heart thumping. First date. Slowly but surely, Giovanni was knocking every single item off my list.
“I like that,” I murmured, my insides a raging flood of emotions thanks to him. But unlike in my past, I didn’t mind them. I welcomed them, and there was something to be said about that.
He led me through the sea of people to a private corner, where he let out a string of curses.
“What’s the matter?” I whispered under my breath.
“I’d really hoped my siblings wouldn’t be here.”
We paused at the booth.
“What’s going on?” Giovanni asked, eyes scanning his family.
“We’re not here for you ,” Marissa exclaimed as she and Romeo jumped to their feet, greeting us loudly with a peck on the cheek. “We came to see our girl.” She gave me an extra little squeeze, smiling broadly.
I looked over her shoulder and saw Cristiano had remained seated, but his jaw was pressed tightly, his green eyes piercing.
He still doesn’t trust me.
Not that I could really blame him. It wasn’t as if I had been an upstanding citizen or a criminal with morals. Marissa shoved her shoulder against Cristiano’s, shooting him a warning glare, but that didn’t seem to faze him at all.
“I didn’t imagine you as the clubbing type,” Marissa remarked, tilting her head at an angle. I shrugged, not bothering to enlighten her on the fact I’d never been to any club before tonight. “It won’t bother you that women will be gawking at Giovanni?” She rolled her eyes. “Women are always fawning all over him. It’s actually annoying. And gross.” She scrunched up her nose.
“I don’t need to worry about other women. I’d imagine they’re smart enough to know they can look but not touch.”
“Ditto,” Giovanni chimed in, grinning. “No man better dare to touch what’s mine.”
“And what if—” Marissa tried to ask.
“No ifs,” I interrupted her. “Giovanni is a smart man. He knows I’m not interested in sharing.”
The irony of my changed stance in our relationship didn’t escape me. But I guessed it was all part of personal growth. Or whatever.
“I need to talk to you,” Cristiano said to Giovanni, his tone exasperated—likely to do with Marissa’s ridiculous conversation. “Is your wife capable of staying alone for a minute?”
Giovanni didn’t miss a beat. “She is, but she won’t be. We’re on a date, and you all are crashing it.”
“I have something important to talk to you about,” he gritted. In a black designer suit, and sleeves that were now cuffed at the elbows, he looked more like the billionaire businessman I remember learning about when I was growing up. But the dark, stormy look still clung to his eyes, hinting at the fact that he was much more than that.
“This is a bad time,” Marissa chimed in, pulling her brother away. “Let them enjoy their date.” She shot me an apologetic look. “I promise we didn’t know it was a date. We just thought?—”
I lifted my hand, waving her off. “It’s okay.”
Giovanni pinned them with a stare. “No, it’s not okay.”
“Cristiano has something important to say to you.” Marissa folded her arms. “But like I said, we didn’t know it’s a date.”
Declan joined us, pushing up the sleeves of his black shirt and pulling Marissa closer to him.
“We shouldn’t wait,” Cristiano muttered, giving pointed looks to his siblings. “Shit always happens when we wait.”
“What are you talking about?” questioned Giovanni.
Romeo shot him a pointed look and Cristiano sighed. “Nothing.”
I blinked, studying them for any signs of what was going on. Romeo stepped forward, handing me a Corona Light. Once I took it, he folded his arms, sharing a passing glance with his siblings, and suspicion flickered in my chest.
“How did you know I like beer?”
“A wild guess,” was all he gave me, and that wasn’t good enough.
“There’s only a handful of people who know I drink beer, never mind the specific brand.” And most of them are dead.
“A sinner told me, and I can promise you that person will be dealt with.”
Swallowing down a gulp, the bitter taste heavy on my tongue, I set the bottle aside on the table.
“What does that mean?” Giovanni demanded, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me even closer to his side.
Romeo replied, “It means, big bro, that we have to clean house.” His casual tone sent a chill up my spine. “But not tonight. You two enjoy your date, and we’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
“Good, you know where the door is,” was all Giovanni said, his brows slanting.
The group gave me a funny look I couldn’t read before Romeo said, “Until then, stay away from Mother.”
Giovanni gave a barely perceptible nod. Then his face turned blank, completely unreadable.
“Would you like to dance with your brother-in-law?” Romeo asked, smiling at me.
Giovanni’s piercing eyes pinned him down. “No, she wouldn’t.”
I shoved my shoulder against Giovanni’s.
“Maybe I would.” Not. Giovanni was the only one I wanted to dance with. The only one I felt comfortable around to risk making a fool out of myself, but I didn’t appreciate him speaking for me.
“All your dances belong to me, Lia.”
I’d started to sense Giovanni was possessive, and also jealous. Not that I minded it one bit. Of course he had nothing to be jealous about, but I didn’t hesitate to use it in my favor.
“Are you sure?” I asked playfully.
He narrowed his eyes, but there was a glint in them. “Don’t provoke me.”
“Then don’t leave me hanging.”
His breath was hot in my ear when he bent his head, saying, “Can I have the honor of every dance for the remainder of our lives, wife?”
Hope surged anew, and I hugged him. I didn’t know what possessed me. It wasn’t my usual behavior, yet how could I not. I was happy for the first time in a very long time, maybe even ever.
“Every single dance,” I murmured, smiling into his chest.
“Now let’s dance until my siblings take the hint and leave.”
“That could take a while,” I teased, but we were already swaying to the next song. I stood on his feet and he pressed a warm hand to my lower back, caging me in and making it so the busy nightclub faded away.
“I could shoot them,” he deadpanned.
I smacked his forearm playfully. “Don’t you joke about that.”
The next two songs, I relaxed and enjoyed letting loose, not minding one bit that he took the lead. This being my first date, I had no idea if we were doing it right, but it sure felt that way. Eventually, we retreated back to our roped-off booth in the corner, where Giovanni and I talked about his childhood, all the shenanigans his sister and her friends got into, and his role in the Omertà.
“And Mateo still wants you at the helm despite not being…” I trailed off, not wanting to hurt him.
“We agreed I’ll head up operations until his son is old enough.” I lifted my head to meet his eyes, but there was no hurt in them. We were sitting side by side on the smooth velvet bench, and his closeness sent shivers down my spine. “But I’m looking into putting Romeo or Cristiano in charge. The businesses in Venezuela take too much of my attention.”
I paused, considering. “It doesn’t have anything to do with the Marabella Agreements and the fact that you married the woman responsible for it?”
“It would be this way whether I married you or not.” The entirety of his attention was on me, and I made out the affection in his expression. “Maybe in a year or two, but it was inevitable. Besides, nothing is as important to me as your safety.” His voice gained an edge, his eyes boring into me. “Absolutely nothing, Lia.”
My mouth hung open. God, this man. I never in a million years would have thought that a human being could make me feel so protected.
“How can you ever forgive what I’ve done?” I rasped, my voice catching.
The dim light above us flickered, and he leaned even closer. “What’s done is done. It’s in the past. We have to look to the future now.”
It had been so long since I had someone by my side, holding me up when I was too tired to stand or fight. And I’d found that in Giovanni.It was comforting, albeit scary, to rely on someone, but I knew in order to make this—us—work, I’d need to let go of my doubts and fears.
“Thank you,” I murmured, unable to find better words to express my appreciation.
He pulled me up and led me back to the dance floor, bending to whisper in my ear, “That’s what husband and wife do. We have each other’s backs.”
“I haven’t had your back with anything yet,” I reminded him. “I’ve never sacrificed a thing, come to think of it.”
“Not true. You did for Amara.”
I trapped the corner of my lower lip between my teeth then released it. “She’s a child, that doesn’t count.”
He paused, seemingly taken aback by my statement, and then his expression turned grim. “Yes, she does count. And let’s not forget what you did to make Santiago think you were Louisa. You stepped in for your twin, wife, and I’d wager you had a good idea of what that would get you.” I felt my eyes well with tears. “So tell me again how you’ve never sacrificed a thing.” He ran his hands up and down my arms, pulling a shiver out of me. “From where I’m standing, you’ve sacrificed fucking everything .”
“It doesn’t matter because?—”
Giovanni’s hand wrapped around my nape and he claimed my lips. My body molded into his hard ridges as he kissed me with complete dominance. He ravished my mouth with an intensity that stole my breath from my lungs.
When he pulled away, my unsteady legs failed me and he grabbed me by the waist to keep me upright. His eyes clashed with mine, the storm in them reminding me of a windy night in a dark, green forest.
“Every time you try to tell me what you did doesn’t matter, I’m going to kiss you until you’re gasping for air.”
It was with those words, in that loving tone of voice, that I realized I was fucked.
Because sometime between the swimming lessons and this dance, I had fallen in love with this man.