Chapter 29
Mina
“Cousin,” Remus murmurs curiously, eyeing the same two large boxes in the middle of the airplane aisle that have caught my attention, “care to explain why someone left their rubbish on our private jet?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I reply, genuinely baffled by who would have the audacity to smuggle them aboard a crime syndicate plane.
“Do you think they’re booby-trapped? Like in the movies?” Rolo asks excitedly, striding straight toward the boxes, eager to find a bomb with red and green wires inside.
Only Rolo would get a sick kind of thrill from the thought of impending death by plane bombing.
“Not a bomb?” I grin teasingly, watching his bright smile dim when he opens one of the parcels and finds nothing of the sort.
“No.” He pouts. “It’s just a bunch of old scribbled notebooks. What kind of sicko leaves old books in people’s planes?”
“As opposed to a well-adjusted individual that prefers to leave bombs?” I arch a teasing brow.
“Who gives a shit who put them here? Either leave the stupid boxes where they are or kick them off onto the tarmac. We’re losing precious daylight, people.” Remus claps before plopping into his seat, eager to get home.
“Remus, please help Rolo load the boxes in the back. I refuse to add littering to what is already a long list of crimes we’ve committed on American soil.”
I settle into my front seat by the window as Remus sighs and slides out of his to help his brother.
Just as I finish sending my father a quick message, telling him we’ll be home in ten hours or so—eight on the flight and another two to drive from Heathrow to Kent, depending on traffic—I hear Remus call out my name.
“Mina, I think you’ll want to see this.”
“Please don’t tell me that you two found an actual bomb in those boxes?” I giggle, getting up from my seat to walk over to them.
But when neither of them laugh, my hackles rise.
“Bugger. I was joking. There’s no bomb, is there?”
“Not the kind you expect.” Rolo frowns.
“Here,” Remus adds, handing me an envelope. “This is for you.”
My brow furrows as I take the envelope from his hands, pulling out a white card adorned with the Romano family crest. Beneath it, a carefully penned message awaits, one that I would never expect to ever receive.
Mina,
I know that nothing I say will ever make you forgive me.
Nor am I delusional enough to believe that if I somehow managed to say all the right things, you’d even want to give me a second chance.
But in the woods, you accused me of never saying that I loved you.
I didn’t want that lie to be the last thing you remembered me for.
We’ve had enough lies between us as it is, and I refuse to let that one linger.
I’ve been told recently that actions speak louder than words.
But sometimes, I don’t believe that is always the case.
Words also have worth.
As long as they speak one’s truth.
For longer than I care to admit, I forced myself to hide that part of me.
The part that loved you unconditionally.
I will never hide again.
And though you are going to be another man’s wife soon, just know that you will always be the queen of my heart.
As a belated engagement gift, I offer you my words.
My truth.
All the words I’ve said and all the ones I wish I could have.
Forever yours,
Jude.
“Cousin?” Remus and Rolo both stand at my side as they watch my hands shake with the card in my hands. “You look pale.”
“I’m…fine,” I stammer, feeling flushed and terribly cold all at the same time.
“Fuck. Help me get her back to her seat, Rolo.”
Rolo is about to do just that when I slap both their hands away.
“I’m fine,” I say after I’ve collected my composure, or as much of it as I can under the circumstances. “I’m fine,” I repeat with a little less heat behind the remark.
I look at the two large boxes, all filled to the brim with… Jude’s journals.
I swallow dryly, and before I can stop myself, I grab three of them and rush to my seat.
“Tell the pilot that we’re ready to go home. And boys…during this flight, I don’t want to hear a peep from either of you.”
I settle in and crack the first journal open, and I’m immediately pulled back into a past life I tried so hard to forget I ever had.
March 18th Kent, England.
The day turned out better than I could have expected.
Annamaria turned five today, but instead of being there for her birthday, all I got was a quick video that Gio made for me of my baby sister blowing out her candles.
It’s been six months since I first arrived at Kent Manor, and as hard as I try, I still miss being home.
Being away from everyone I love just to prove a point seems so ridiculous now.
I think I might have fucked up.
Maybe when I finish my first year at college here, I can transfer my credits to a college closer to home.
Argh.
Even as I write this, I know it’s all bullshit.
I won’t leave to go back home.
Not until my father gives me his word that he’ll initiate me into the Outfit.
He’ll cave eventually. Even if that means I have to stay here another six months.
Hell, I’ll stay another year if I have to.
Sooner or later, one of us will have to bend, and I refuse it to be me.
Though I must admit, being under Victor Crane’s tutelage has been an eye-opening experience.
I’ve learned so much in the last six months that I wouldn’t have been able to learn if I had remained in Chicago.
I’ve also made a friend.
No. Scratch that.
I believe I’ve found a true friend in Victor’s daughter, Mina—perhaps the only real friendship I’ve ever had outside my own family.
Yes, she’s young—only sixteen—while I turned twenty just last month. But the way she thinks and speaks carries a wisdom far beyond her years.
But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised.
It’s just as she said that first night I met her—kids in line to the throne don’t get to be children for long. We forfeited the right the day we were born.
Like I said, Mina is wiser than her years.
She’s even been teaching me how to play chess.
Sure, I suck at it, but when we’re playing, I don’t feel so homesick anymore.
And it’s all because of her.
My friend.
My Mina.
I close the journal and quickly pick up another, needing to devour every word he ever wrote about me.
Especially the ones describing memories that I keep locked away in my heart.
Memories of me falling in love with him.
August 14th Kent, England.
In two days’ time, Mina will be throwing another lavish affair to celebrate her 18th birthday.
I’m not sure if I’m dreading having to rub elbows with every London socialite or if I’m just scared to give her the birthday gift I bought her.
I must have searched every jewelry store in London for someone who could help me fashion the pendant just like I imagined it in my head.
Luckily, I found one that understood my vision in Camden Town.
The velvet box has been burning a hole in my pocket for the last month or so.
I have no idea why I’m so fucking nervous, but I am.
What if she doesn’t like it?
What if she takes one look at it and fakes a polite smile?
Fuck.
And when did making Mina smile become so important to me anyway?
These are the questions I have asked myself nonstop lately.
And the answer to all of them … is what scares me most.
August 16th Kent, England.
It’s two in the morning, and I’m still wide awake.
All because I can still feel Mina’s lips on mine.
I’m in hell.
Literal hell.
I gave her the chess pendant and, I shit you not, the way that she smiled at me brought me to my knees.
I’m so fucked.
I’m beyond fucked.
That fucking smile.
Still drunk on her smile, she baited me to play another chess game. Only this one came with strings attached.
If she won, she wanted another present from me.
I said yes.
Of course I said yes.
Mostly because I honestly thought that there was nothing she could have asked of me that I would ever deny her.
Then the brat asked me to kiss her.
I’m in hell.
Literal hell.
Because deep down, that’s what I’ve been dying to do for more time than I care to admit.
So yeah … she kissed me.
And yeah … I kissed her right back.
And now I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering if that one kiss has ruined me completely.
With my heart beating like a jackhammer in my chest, I quickly flip the page, desperate to know more.
August 17th Kent, England.
There was no birthday party.
Instead, Mina was officially inducted into the Firm.
Fuck.
I had been in attendance when the psycho twins had their initiation a year or so ago.
But it didn’t hold a candle to Mina’s.
The twins’ initiation was done in an old factory where the Cranes like to get creative with their hostages and enemies.
Mina’s induction was celebrated in the grand foyer of her home.
If you can even call what I saw tonight a celebration.
Fuckers!
I’m still pissed no one told me what was about to go down.
But I guess no one thought to bother since I’m just a guest to the Crane home as well as to The Firm.
I should have known something was up when, instead of London’s elite, the manor was filled to the brim with every made man I’ve ever met while working for Crane. Even a few female associates attended too, all eager to see the young princess finally take the necessary steps to become queen.
The Brits sure do things differently.
While back home, we pledge the omertà by drawing blood on our Patron Saint, the Firm’s only stipulation is that not a single drop of Mina’s blood be spilled to the floor.
Thank God for Remus and Role holding me back when Mina was fighting tooth and nail for her birthright, or I would have made things bad for her.
I would have killed those six fuckers that tried to touch a hair on my girl’s head and then picked her up, flung her over my shoulder, and locked her in my bedroom so I could give her a real birthday present.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
I’m so fucked.
What the fuck do I do now?
August 18th Kent, England.
I made a decision.
One that will probably entail losing my best friend.
Today, as I walked through the garden, it dawned on me that Mina wouldn’t have gone through the process of getting inducted if she didn’t want to sit on her father’s throne one day.
She could have died last night.
Died.
Which means that her heart is all in on The Firm.
Which also means that me and her … could never be.
Sooner or later, I’ll have to go home.
My life is in Chicago.
Hers is here.
It would just be cruel to continue down this road.
She can never be mine.
Not really.
And if this is only a fling, then I don’t want it.
Because I know deep down in my heart that if we somehow let this pull between us win … if we give into our desires … I’ll end up falling in love with her.
No.
I won’t lie on these pages. These pages are fucking sacred.
The truth is that I’ve been falling in love with Mina for years now.
I love her more than I think a man can possibly love a woman.
So if this is only ever going to be a fling with no real endgame, I’d rather let my heart ache now than have it completely shattered later.
Mina and I don’t have a future.
We have birthrights to uphold.
My heart aches as I read the next entries, all of them more morose than the others.
My name is written on each page, with sadness and melancholy attached to it.
Unable to read his pain without summoning my own, I flick through the pages, hoping to find the entry about the night we met Pavlin.
The night he left me high and dry in that hotel room.
September 23rd Kent, England.
One year.
I stayed away from Mina for one full year.
One grueling fucking year.
I honestly thought I had curbed my addiction by keeping myself busy with school and work, making sure I was exhausted by the time I got home—too drained to lie awake, wondering what Mina might be up to without me.
But I was lying to myself.
Because all it took was one night working with her on a job, and I broke the one rule I said I wouldn’t break.
I kissed her.
Fuck. I did more than kiss her. I made her come.
And the image of my Mina coming will forever be burned into my brain.
Now, instead of jacking off in the shower with memories of her smile, I do it with the image of her pink cheeks, her half-mast eyes, and her swollen lips.
I cry out my release with her name on my lips and the memory of how her sweet little pussy tasted on my tongue.
And I broke so fucking spectacularly all because Mina pretended she was about to blow me in that fucker Pavlin’s office.
I went blind with jealousy, imagining her on her knees with some guy she met somewhere.
I did leave her alone for a year.
Did I honestly think a girl like her didn’t have men of all ages batting at her door, dying to be let in?
I know Felix has his sights set on her.
Even if Mina hadn’t told me about her Aunt Pippa encouraging her to marry him and Victor confirming that he’s had talks with Felix on the matter, I would have still known the fucker had eyes for my girl.
But while I look at her as the woman who has bewitched me body and soul, he sees a pawn he can easily influence in order for him to one day become the head of The Firm.
Shows how much he knows my girl.
My Mina is no pawn.
She’s a queen.
Fuck.
My Mina isn’t even mine at all.
She’s just Mina.
The woman I obsess about twenty-four-seven and can never have.
“Hand me another journal! Remus! Rolo! Give me the next journal in the pile!” I shout out, eager to read each passage as fast as I can. Especially now that it’s getting good.
April 4th Kent, England.
Most made men will tell you that fear is a trick of the mind.
That real men … men that live our kind of lives, don’t fear anything at all.
I can count on one hand the times I was afraid.
When I saw my stepfather get shot.
When his killer then kidnapped me just to cage my mother and murder father.
When my mother was about to give birth to Marcello.
When Marcello was born so tiny, I thought he would break in my arms.
And now … when Pavlin kidnapped the woman I love.
Yes, I’ve known fear, but never to this extent.
The twins and I found common ground today.
All three of us became murderous with the idea of anyone hurting her.
It was with their help that I was able to save my Mina. My love.
But I did it the wrong way.
I should have kept Pavlin alive. I would have taken my sweet time carving out his face.
But he had a gun to her head.
I couldn’t take that risk. So I killed him fast just to end my misery and have her back in my arms again.
And as I write this entry, it’s not here that I want to be.
In my room, locked away, writing down all my desires when Mina is just a few halls away from me.
The fucker hurt her.
I need to be with her.
I need to hold her in my arms.
I need to breathe her scent.
I need to feel her heartbeat.
I need … I need … I need …
Fuck this.
April 10th Kent, England.
For the past week, I haven’t left Mina’s bed.
It’s done. It’s over.
My heart is in her hands now.
Whatever comes after this, I was the instrument that set it on course.
I no longer have the will to stay away.
I know it’s wrong. I know we are just setting ourselves up for a world of hurt.
But I’ve decided something today.
If today is all we have, then I would rather spend it with her than remain in this utter agonizing misery, longing for her.
I no longer have the will or the strength to refuse her.
Not when every second I spend with Mina feels this right.
Even when I know in my heart it will end.
I would rather have the memories of her with me than nothing at all.
October 9th Kent, England.
Mina told me that she loved me again.
And it fucking devastated me that I couldn’t say it back.
She’s a fucking angel, my girl.
Because she’s never questioned my feelings for her, even when I haven’t been vocal with them.
But today, I couldn’t stop myself—I told her I loved her … in Italian.
It’s the only safe way I’ve found to give her the rest of me without truly saying the words, knowing that one day, I’ll have to leave her.
It wouldn’t be fair to her if I said them out loud in English.
So I told her all the words I’ve been whispering in her ear while she sleeps since the first night she led me into her bed.
Ti amo così tanto amore
Non c’è niente che non darei per trattenerti.
E come mi tormenta la certezza che ti perderò.
Il mio cuore sanguina per te.
Il mio cuore sanguinerà sempre per te.
I love you so much, love.
There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you.
And how I’m tormented that I can’t.
My heart bleeds for you.
It will always bleed for you … forever.
December 7th Kent, England.
The day I feared has arrived.
My father wants me to come home.
I long for my family.
I long for Chicago.
But Mina is my true home.
When Victor asked me if I’d consider staying on and initiating for The Firm, with the possible offer of marriage, I all but sank to my knees to thank God himself for opening a window when all the doors to my happiness had been previously locked.
But as I sat on his couch and considered the matter further, I realized how selfish I was to even consider such a thing.
Victor’s offer came with one big unfavorable variable to it.
Because by naming me his heir, I’d be stealing Mina’s birthright.
What good would it do me to marry the only woman I will ever love if she ends up hating me in the end?
No. I couldn’t do that to her.
Not when she’s worked so hard to prove to everyone that she is more than capable of leading the Firm.
But to my dismay, my girl heard every word that was said in her father’s home office.
And she jumped to the wrong conclusion and ultimately gave me an ultimatum.
If I left her now, then I could never return.
She thinks I’m leaving for power.
When, in fact, I’m leaving for her.
I could never be responsible for stealing her birthright.
I’d rather she hate me forever than to ever do that.
Tears stream down my cheeks with every word he has written down.
Remus and Rolo remain silent throughout the entire flight home, only approaching to hand me water to keep me hydrated and tissues to wipe my tears away. Even when the stewardess came out with food, and I made a face, unable to fathom eating while feeling this raw, they quietly shooed her away.
If reading about the past hurt, reading about the years we spent apart from his point of view nearly killed me.
He’s suffered like I suffered.
His misery was my misery.
His pain, mine.
After spending the last eight hours reading the majority of Jude’s journals, I’ve realized two things.
The first one being that Jude’s journals aren’t journals at all.
They’re love letters.
To me.
And second is the certainty that I will be walking down the aisle as planned—just not to the man I’m currently engaged to.
By the time the plane’s wheels touch the tarmac, I’ve made up my mind on my next course of action.
“So?” Remus says when he feels it’s safe to talk. “Are we turning this jet around or what?”
I get up from my seat and kiss him on the cheek.
“Yes. Yes, we are.” I smile widely, my eyes still bloodshot and red from all the crying I’ve done these past few hours.
“Hey, what about me? I deserve one, too!” Rolo exclaims. “I behaved.”
“Yes, yes you did,” I praise, thankful that I can always count on them for support. “I just need to see my dad first and pick up a few things before we leave.”
“That’s cool,” Rolo says, eyeing the stewardess’s arse like it’s a snack. “You two go on ahead without me. I’ll hang back here and keep the plane warm for you.”
I’m so happy that Rolo being his usually slutty self doesn’t even annoy me.
I quickly get out of the plane, with Remus at my heel, and go home.
Three hours later—thanks to London traffic—we arrive home, my father waiting for us in his office.
“Sweetpea!” he greets as he gets up from his seat. “God, but I’ve missed you, Mina. Let me look at you,” he says with open arms and a smile.
However, his smile falters when he sees how swollen my eyes are from crying.
“What is it, Mina? What happened to you?” he asks in his Boss voice.
“Nothing, Daddy! These are tears of joy!”
“Oh?” he asks, glancing at Remus for an explanation.
“Don’t look at me, uncle. I’m just here for the ride.” Remus laughs, sinking onto the couch and propping his legs up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles.
“But first things first, let me look at you,” I order, just to make sure my father didn’t take a turn for the worse while I was gone.
“I’m fine, sweet pea. I promise.” He waves off my concern.
“How did your exams go?”
“Well enough.”
“What does that mean, Daddy?”
“It means I know as much as you do. When I get the results, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
I thin my lips and make a mental note to call his doctor in a few days’ time and ask her myself. I don’t trust my father not to hide things from me if he thinks it will worry me.
“Now, how about you tell me what brought on these happy tears?” my father insists, always one to want to share in my joy.
“I’m getting married!”
When my father’s brows knit together, I already know what he’s about to say.
“Yes, I’m aware. But I never expected that you’d be this excited about it.” He frowns.
“That’s because she’s not marrying Felix,” Remus cuts in, placing his arms behind his head.
“Oh?” my father counters, confused. “Who are you marrying then?”
“Romano,” Remus answers on my behalf again.
“Jude proposed?” My father’s eyes light up with glee, not even sparing me another glance and looking straight at Remus for an answer.
“That I don’t know. But I very much doubt he went on one knee when she’s still wearing Felix’s rock on her finger.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, taking off my engagement ring and placing it inside my father’s hand. “Daddy, would you mind terribly giving this back to Felix? I’m going to need my ring finger for the one Jude will give me.”
Though, in all honesty, I couldn’t care less about a ring.
Those journals are worth more to me than any diamond he could ever buy.
“So Jude hasn’t proposed?” my father asks again, looking more confused by the minute.
“I think you better sit down, uncle,” Remus cautions. “You’re starting to look a little pale.”
“I believe you might be onto something, nephew. All this contradicting information is making me a little lightheaded.”
I help him onto the couch next to Remus and slap his feet from the coffee table so I can sit down in front of my father.
“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you,” I say, guilt starting to gnaw at me.
“I’m not upset, sweet pea, just confused.” He smiles sheepishly while patting my knee.
“I know this all sounds a bit mad, but all you need to know is that I’m happy, Daddy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
His gray eyes soften as he leans in to grab my hands in his and give them a light squeeze.
“That’s all I ever wanted. Your happiness.” He smiles ear to ear. “So the lad finally got his head out of his arse , is that right?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” I grin. “But I’ll have to return to Chicago again to dot a few i’s and cross a few t’s with Jude first.”
“I understand.” He nods. “And when are you leaving?”
“Now.” I throw in a cheeky grin, to which my father starts laughing away hysterically.
“Well then, I’m glad you took the time to pay me this quick visit. I know it hasn’t been even a fortnight that you’ve been away, but your old man missed seeing this pretty face around the house. That one and his brother, not so much,” he says after tilting his head towards Remus.
“Love you too, uncle.” Remus smirks.
“I’ll just have to go and get a few things and then we’ll be set to leave.”
“You do whatever you need to, sweet pea. Remus here will keep me company and tell me everything I missed at Marcello Romano’s initiation. I heard it was quite the spectacle.”
“It started weak, but it sure did end strong,” Remus explains, inching closer to my father to gossip some more.
I leave them to it and head out of the office to grab what I need, when I halt my step and turn around after I hear Remus say the most peculiar thing.
“So is it true? Is Vincent’s son not all there in the head?”
“Oh, he’s there. He’s all there, uncle. And that’s what’s so fucking terrifying,” Remus explains almost apprehensively.
“Don’t tell me the young lad scared you?” my father teases playfully. “The mighty Remus Crane?”
“Let me put it this way, uncle, for you to understand. You know I don’t believe in all that God nonsense, right?”
“Do any of us Cranes?” My father chuckles.
However, my cousin does not laugh in return. He doesn’t so much as crack a smile.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say that the notion of one God might be all hocus pocus bullshit. But the devil, uncle? That fucker is alive and well. And his name is Marcello Romano.”