Chapter 6
KARINA
After Marco excuses us, he helps me to the bedroom at the far end of the house.
“Just sit,” he instructs, easing me down onto the bed.
The next thing I know, I hear the sound of water running in the bathroom, and then the showerhead turns on.
I look up at him when he comes back into the room. “I’m so sorry about Livvie,” I say.
Marco digs a hand into his hair. “It’s not your fault.”
“But—”
“It’s not, Karina. Don’t blame yourself. You had nothing to do with it. Look, I need to go back now. Hopefully my brother will calm down so we can get some kind of a plan together. I think it’s better if you stay here. Take a shower and relax.”
He doesn’t meet my eyes as he speaks. What he’s not saying, however, is crystal clear: I don’t belong at the family meeting. Which makes sense; in everyone else’s eyes, I’m still a Bruno. Or at least, that’s how Armani seems to view me. I nod at Marco, and then he’s gone.
The stain of my bloodline is something that can’t be washed away, but I wish it could be as I step into the steamy shower.
I stand beneath the spray for a long time, as if I can scrub off all the years of Bruno influence.
I saw and heard so many things around my family’s home while I was growing up, things that I blocked out or didn’t allow myself to fully pay attention to.
Maybe if I had, I might be of some real use in finding Livvie. Instead, I’m completely useless.
Just like Marco said I was.
After far too long, I step out and wrap myself in a towel, then go to the closet to find something to wear.
I still don’t have many clothes, so I slip on a pair of the leggings Frankie got me and one of Marco’s V-neck T-shirts, and then park myself on the plush sofa in the adjoining sitting room.
I’m still flipping through the mind-boggling array of channels on the TV when the bedroom door opens and Marco walks back in.
“Are you feeling any better?”
“No. Not really.” I look up at him with a deep, pounding beat of sadness. “I can’t imagine what Livvie is going through right now. She must be so scared. I’m scared, too.”
My breath starts to hitch, and Marco drops onto the other side of the sofa. “We’re going to get her back. I don’t know exactly how, but we are.”
“How can you say that? You don’t know my uncle, he’s—”
“Armani already has a few pieces in play. My brother is…a force. You don’t know what he’s capable of, but I do. He’s cleaned up a lot of messes in his time. He’s handling it.”
I want to believe Marco, but…deep down, I can’t. True, I don’t know what Armani is capable of, but I do know what my uncle is. And it’s the stuff of nightmares.
“I never had a sister,” I murmur. “I always wished I did, but seeing Frankie and Charlie like that…it makes me glad I don’t have a bigger circle of people I care about. It’d just be that many more people who might get hurt. Especially right now.”
Shaking my head, I dig my palms into my eyes and try to physically hold back the tears.
Beside me, Marco clears his throat. I’m expecting to hear more about how everything is going to be perfectly fine, but instead he starts telling me a story. His story.
“I had a sister. A long time ago. She and our mother died when I was very young. Boating accident.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. It feels trite to apologize, but I do it automatically.
He shrugs. “I don’t remember a lot about that time of my life.
They say sometimes with trauma, you block things out.
I guess what I remember most is how my dad changed.
He kind of just…disappeared. I know he was hard on my older brothers, pushing them to get tougher, beating up on them, especially Dante, but…
maybe he just couldn’t stand to look at us after the accident.
All of us were sent to boarding schools on the East Coast as soon as we turned twelve. ”
I slide closer toward him, tentatively reaching out to put a comforting hand on his knee. “Do you remember much about your mom and your sister, before the…accident?”
He smiles. “My mom was crazy about us. We were her whole life, us kids. I know that for a fact. She was a hugger. She liked to give us bubble baths and read us books before bed. Guess that sounds pretty generic, right?”
“No,” I say. “Not to me. I never had that with my mom. Or anyone. I wish I did.”
Marco places his hand over mine, exhaling slowly.
“Lili, my sister, was always following me around. We had our scooters, we played with Hot Wheels cars, we’d go out in the yard to make potions in the mud or sneak cookies from the pantry.
Our favorite place to go was called The Monkey House—it’s this local place with an arcade and a roller rink and pizza.
We idolized Dante, too, with his shiny red bike, but I think we just annoyed him. ”
“Sounds like you were lucky to have her,” I say.
He nods, and I scoot closer to lean my head on his shoulder. We just sit there for a while, both lost in our thoughts. I’m about to ask if he wants to watch TV when he starts talking again.
“It was a boating accident. The bodies were never recovered. It’s almost worse, I think. Knowing we visit empty graves. Leaving flowers and talking to air.”
My heart breaks for him. He goes quiet again and I look at his profile for a long time. Marco doesn’t seem to mind the silence. I wish I knew what to say.
Is it selfish of me to hate the fact that I grew up in a household with both of my own parents? A mother who never once stepped in to defend me? The father that viewed me as nothing more than collateral?
Finally, Marco pulls away to look at me.
“The other thing was…after the disappearances, my dad’s involvement with the Mafia just grew and grew.
He had so many hooks in the business that even though he died a few years ago, we’re still trying to unravel the mess.
My brothers wanted to get out of the business, and we were so close, but then… we got pulled right back in.”
I keep hearing about the mob, and every time I do, it feels like a shock.
But in reality, it’s not. It can’t be. I’ve known all along that my family’s “business” was tied to the Mafia.
My uncle, in the very sense of the word, is one of its bosses.
It’s funny how you can block out the truth for your whole life.
I did because I didn’t want to see it. Yet, even so, I recognized early on that my family is not good people.
“It’s almost impossible to get out,” I say with a nod.
“I don’t know a lot about my family’s involvement, but I do have vague recollections of people coming to the house and begging to get out.
It never happened. At least not on my uncle’s watch.
And I know he ordered some…retaliations, if anyone tried to go without his permission. ”
Marco stands, suddenly fired up. “We’re going to get out. Once and for good. We made the decision as soon as Dad was in the ground, and we agreed we were leaving and never going back in. It’s just taking longer than we planned.”
My shoulders sag with relief.
Then I think of the look on Armani’s face. The coldness that seems to emanate from him. The danger. “All of you want to be out?”
“Dante and I don’t want anything to do with the business. Armani is…more complicated. He still wants vengeance for our father’s death. Dante might be the leader of the family, but Armani is the protector, and he will never back down from what he sees as his higher purpose in life.”
I look down at my feet and then back up at him. “Marco, do you…think you would ever do anything like my family did? Hurt somebody? Someone like Livvie, who did nothing wrong?”
Marco sits back down next to me and I search his eyes, trying to get a sense of this man I married. This man I don’t know well enough by far. This man who could be just as dangerous as the family I ran away from.
He shakes his head. “Never. I never would.”
And…I believe him. I really do.
“Karina.” Marco looks intently at me, and I know he’s about to say something I’m not going to like. “Do you know where your family might be holding Livvie? Any idea at all?”
And there it is. It’s time for me to earn my keep.
Bitterness layers on top of the nausea. I feel for Marco and his brothers.
I really do. If nothing else, we have shared trauma from the families who raised us.
But I literally just explained to him how I would hide away from the day-to-day activities in my family’s home.
He didn’t even acknowledge what I had to say. Maybe he doesn’t believe me.
“No,” I say coldly. “If I did, I would have said something already. That’s the truth.”
He stares at me and I see it. The suspicion.
He really doesn’t believe me. I might as well be the enemy.
They are all going to view me as the enemy, no matter what I do.
Because my family has always been bad, doing bad things, criminal things, trafficking in weapons and drugs and intimidation tactics and hurting people, while I spent my days being purposely ignorant, with my nose buried in a book.
“There’s nothing you can tell me? Or is there, but there’s a reason you’re not saying?” he pushes.
I stand and cross my arms over my chest. I could explain myself until I’m blue in the face and Marco still won’t believe a word that I say.
I think about what Candi said earlier. About taking some power for myself.
“I want to help you, Marco. I want to help Livvie. I don’t want any young woman being placed in her situation,” I say. “But I really don’t have any information. I wish I did.”
It hits me, how much I mean what I just said. How much I genuinely want to see Livvie home and safe with her sisters, and recovering from whatever hell she’s in right now. I want that for Frankie, and for this entire family. I’ve made my choice.
I’m going to side with the Bellantis.
I’m going to give a huge middle finger to my family and make sure I do everything that I can to help this family.
I know Marco might never love me—and I’m not sure he’ll ever fully trust me, either—but I can be his wife.
It just has to be on my own terms. Sharing his bed and feeling his touch will only destroy me, and remind me of how hollow our false union is.
“You wanted my answer,” I go on. “About whether I am going to stay.”
He nods.
There’s a little jump in the center of my chest followed by the urge to stand up tall, square my shoulders. Lift my chin. So I do. I think I might be standing the tallest I ever have. It feels strange, like I’m taking up space and being seen. It’s terrifying, but also…liberating.
“I will. I’ll stay. And I will be loyal to your family. But as far as our marriage is concerned, this is just an arrangement, and we are just cohabitating. I might be living as your wife, but you won’t ever touch my body again. Those are my terms.”
I’m breathing hard, but wow. That felt very satisfying. And it feels very much like the right thing to do.
Marco doesn’t trust me, and he probably has no intention of trusting me. He brought me into this family under false pretenses. And while I feel guilty and somewhat responsible for my former family’s crimes against them, it doesn’t give Marco free access to my body or my heart.
My husband clears his throat and stands. “I understand.”
He looks at me for a moment before leaving the room.
And once again, I’m all alone.