Chapter 19
Rafaela
“Fleur. How did the guests get their invitations?” The celebration was continuing, everyone dancing and drinking. Meanwhile, I continuously glanced at the doors leading from the ballroom, half expecting or perhaps hoping that I’d see the mystery man again.
While I couldn’t be certain the person I’d seen had been Kazimir, my stomach remained in knots. In truth, I was certain I’d been seeing things. Call it wishful thinking or maybe my guilty conscience working overtimes.
A little tickler inside my mind reminded me that my father had about a dozen reasons to lie to me, except in sending me away, he’d provided the perfect opportunity for Kazimir to find me.
If he’d been alive.
Not a word. Not a sighting. Nothing.
I’d tried to find more about him, but every effort had been nothing but time wasted.
Plus, my father enjoyed killing people. That I’d heard through the grapevine at an early age. Even if I tossed out half of the garbage spewed in rumors and hate-filled messages, that meant my father had murdered over a hundred people.
I shuddered to think how many of his victims had been innocent bystanders or people who’d been caught up in crime syndicate business. But he’d lie for one reason, a single purpose.
To keep me from searching for Kazimir.
If the man who’d stolen my heart had escaped, my father’s reputation would have been dinged, especially after so many people on the estate had known he’d been harboring a prisoner.
Even after the harsh punishment I’d received, I’d cheered Kazimir on, envisioning him returning home to his family.
I’d also chastised myself for not pressing him on information.
In the world of the mafia, family data was not easily obtained even with the internet and social media.
As an enforcer for such a powerful Cosa Nostra Don, my father and our world had been placed under the Pollizi arm of protection.
That meant in addition to a lifetime of men serving as bodyguards, the internet was regularly swept for information about our family. All under the guise of keeping us safe.
In turn that meant I wasn’t allowed to have a page on Facebook or Instagram. I was the girl least likely to be found by anyone.
I could only imagine, given the power I’d sensed Kazimir carried, the level of protection that would surround both him and his family. I hadn’t even asked if the man had been married or had children. It hadn’t been important at the time.
Now? I wanted… no, I needed to learn everything about him and what had occurred.
The truth.
Something told me the man who’d ignited the fire I’d thought dead forever was the very one I’d fallen head over heels in love with.
But if he was alive, why did he take so long to find me? I doubted he was fearful of anyone no matter what he’d suffered at the hands of my father.
Yes, a huge part of me was angry with him for not tracking me down. For not at least letting me know he was safe and alive.
Damn him.
Damn all men.
Yet my heart continued to flutter at the thought he was alive.
Fleur was quite happy, mildly intoxicated where I’d had a single glass of champagne to celebrate my win at the show. I’d won a medal. I should be happy, partying with my friends from school.
But all I could think about was Kazimir. I had to discover the truth.
“Um, the patrons were targeted for their standing in the community. Why do you ask?”
“I thought I recognized an old school friend of mine.” I was very cautious with what information I provided. Only a couple of people knew who my father was and that had been by design.
She snorted. “Your friend would need to be very rich.”
“Why?”
“The tickets weren’t just for a fabulous fashion show. All proceeds went to a local children’s hospital. Each one was eighty-five thousand euros. Plus, the university president wanted maximum exposure, which we were lucky enough to have because of the clientele in the audience.”
Kazimir had possibly paid that for a chance to see me again? He hadn’t known I’d walk the runway. I didn’t know what to think other than that there was no way he’d spend that kind of money. Why would he? “Okay, she’s from a really rich family, but I’d like to know. Does anyone have the list?”
“You can ask Jules,” she said, nodding across the room. “He was the keeper of the seating chart.”
“Okay, thank you.” I hurried across the room, pulling the leash a little tighter. If Golden hadn’t reacted the way she had, maybe I’d think I was wasting my time, but my instinct was screaming something else altogether.
Jules was dancing with a hot guy and at least seeing the two of them together I could smile. “Hey Jules, I need a favor.” I tousled his hair as he liked, even spinning around the sexy guys for fun.
“Anything for you, darling,” he said in his old Hollywood voice I did so adore. “You are the star of the show.”
“I don’t know about star. I thought I saw a hot guy at the fashion show and, well…” I batted my eyelashes.
“Oh!” he squealed. “The bad girl finally emerges. Do you know where he was sitting?”
“I think so. Do you mind finding a name for me?”
He rolled his eyes. Always the drama queen, which was why I adored him so much. “You bet. Let’s go.”
I trailed behind him, still scanning the perimeter. My nerves were on edge, my mind still processing what I’d seen. We returned backstage, to a little office used by the administrators.
“Was he really that hot?” Jules asked once we’d gone inside.
Every time I waved my hand in front of my face, I was reminded of the way Sedona had teased me about the various boys she’d been attracted to. Dozens of them. We’d lost touch after the first year of college. Maybe I’d see if she’d come home for a summer visit when I returned to Sicily.
“Hot as Hades.”
“Are you sure he’s into women?” Jules had the best pouting expressions in the world.
I laughed while squeezing his hand. “If I find out he’s not, I promise I’ll send him your way.”
“You are the best. Now where was he sitting?”
As he held out a seating chart, I closed my eyes briefly, remembering exactly where I’d seen him. “Right there.” I pointed.
“Are you certain? If you are, you need to get your eyes checked. Doesn’t she, little Miss Muffin?” Jules cooed as he did whenever he was in the same room as Golden Angel.
And what did my baby do? She growled in response, which was exactly what she did with every man daring to get into the princess’s space.
Except for one.
“Oh, fluffy butt,” Jules said in response. “If only men would growl at me like that. The old wench who always complains about the noise was sitting there.”
Groaning, I looked again. “How about there?”
“Hmmmm…” Jules basically purred his answer after checking the sheet. “Is he Russian by chance?”
My stomach dropped while the prickling heat spiraling across every inch of naked skin was already itchy.
There’s no way he’s alive. Stop being such a child.
Yet my hopes remained high, my pulse skyrocketing. From excitement? From anger? From disbelief?
“Yes.” The single word was all I could whisper.
Jules was as excited as I was. “Kirill Aristov. Is that it?”
I could feel the excitement fading ever so slowly, another ache in my stomach even worse than before.
Was it possible Kazimir had either lied to me about his identity or had assumed a new one, maybe because he was still on the run?
Absolutely. But I wasn’t prone to falling prey to fantasies or high hopes any longer.
The girl who’d been lost in rainbows and unicorns had been shoved aside, the woman with ice in her veins taking full control.
Hope wasn’t a word in my vocabulary either.
“No, it’s not.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sugar plum. The man of your dreams will appear.”
“I’m not holding onto hope. Thank you, luscious boy.”
“Are you coming to the year-end rave tomorrow night?”
I’d forgotten all about that. “Where is it again?”
“A little club called Peste Noire.”
“Black Death? Oh, that sounds like fun.” I was being sarcastic all while thinking about the black death I’d suffered when hearing Kazimir had been killed. Maybe I needed to shake off the ridiculous emotions.
His grin was as infectious as I’d found from day one. “You’ll love it. The place is all dark and gloomy, just like your moods.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. We’ll see.” I managed to laugh as I walked out of the room. “Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
Home.
How strange that the tiny little apartment had felt so much more like home than the huge house I’d grown up in.
I knew all the reasons why, the heartache of the girl hiding in her room when not in school.
In going from being smothered to feeling true freedom, I’d realized after three full years, I still felt lost. Admitting it even to myself seemed like failure.
At least I could say I’d become more of a fighter than ever before. I’d taken shooting lessons at the range and advanced self-defense classes. This past semester I’d tried my hand at karate although I sucked at it.
A half laugh formed as I headed toward my apartment. Yes, it was late and yes, the area was prone to criminal activity, but I’d never felt unsafe. Not once.
Golden Angel might look like a sweetie, but when she bared her sharp canines, even the toughest bullies were frightened. Plus, I had a gun in my purse, a perfectly sized Beretta that I’d purchased all by myself during my second semester.
I headed down the sidewalk, marveling at how the Eiffel Tower looked at night. I’d always loved the iconic landmark, equating it as so many others to the city of love.
At least that’s what I’d hoped.
How silly of me to carry the whimsical notion with me after seeing firsthand that the concept that love conquered all was sheer bullshit.
My parents certainly didn’t love each other, the arranged marriage a condition required by both families.
That hadn’t meant either one of them had softened over the years.