Chapter One
Minerva
“We need a new plan, Kepler,” I say.
Kepler blinks at me from his cage. He’s been getting the zoomies more often after being cooped up for so long, but I don’t dare let him out to free-range, even inside the car. Too many things could go wrong, and if he got hurt or ran away, I’d never forgive myself.
And, a selfish part of me adds, I don’t want to be alone.
I hate that part of me, the part that needs Kepler to be safe for my sake, rather than for his.
That kind of thinking reminds me of my mother, and I hate how small and greedy it makes me feel.
From the tip of his speckled pink nose to the tip of his puffy brown tail, zoomies and all, Kepler is perfect.
Not like me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think.
It’s hard, with all these competing worries bouncing around in my head.
“We can’t keep living like this,” I say.
“First order of business: find someplace to live that isn’t a parking garage.
” In this regard, I’ve gotten lucky. My godfather owns the Vegas Venom and the associated arena, and while he’d never go against my father outright, so far, he’s turned a blind eye to the fact that I’m holed up here.
It’s not too bad for a short stay, since the lower levels are cooler than the street, and there are bathrooms located on every other floor.
There are no showers, but at least I don’t have to pee in my empty V8 bottles, so that’s something.
Of course, this isn’t my ideal living arrangement, though I would pee in V8 bottles for the rest of my life rather than marrying Luca.
“Actually, scratch that,” I tell Kepler. “The first order of business is getting our hands on some money. Maybe I could get a job as a waitress? Or a stripper? It’s Vegas, after all.
Pretty sure you have to be coordinated to be a stripper, though. And have curves. I don’t think I’d be any good at it, but the things I would be good at would require that I have a home address, and probably another degree.
I flop back into my seat with a groan and close my eyes.
I don’t mean to drift off, but my brain, which never seems to work the way other people expect it to, has been doing even worse with my steady diet of junk food, tap water, and terrible sleep.
I drop into a daze only to be awoken by someone tapping on my car window.
I jolt upright and slam my elbow into the car horn. Kepler immediately goes nuts.
“Sorry, uh…” I try to roll down the window, but the car’s off, so I just jab the button a few times to no effect. After a few seconds of this, I give up and open the car door so that I can get out.
Julie Giovanetti, my godfather’s wife, is not a tall woman, though her heels give her a few extra inches on me.
Her hair, streaked with silver, it cut into an impeccable bob that brushes the shoulders of the white blazer buckled over her navy dress.
Unlike my mother, who never leaves the house without a pound of makeup and at least five pieces of jewelry, Julie’s look is elegant and understated.
Next to her, I feel like some sort of dirty little animal that crawled out of a dumpster. I knew I was a mess already, but now I’m painfully aware of my stringy, filthy hair, my unwashed face, and the general smell of ferret that has permeated everything I own.
“Hey,” I say. “It’s been a while, Aunt Julie. Nice to see you.”
“Minerva Marino? Sweetheart, are you living in this rust bucket?” Julie’s eyes sweep from me to the car, taking in the chipped paint, rusted wheelwells, and obvious pile of junk scattered through the back seat, clearly visible to anyone who might happen to walk by.
I force a laugh. “No, just napping. I… was on a road trip.”
Julie’s eyes zip back to me. “Please, dear, don’t insult me. Grab your ferret and let’s go. Now.”
“His name is Kepler,” I say, with all the defiance I can muster.
I stood up to my father, so I know I can defend myself, but Julie isn’t trying to bully me into marrying a man I despise.
What am I going to do, crawl back into the car and lock all the doors until she calls a tow truck? I might as well hear her out.
I open the door again to retrieve Kepler. I take him out of his crate long enough to pull his little light-cancelling goggles on, and collect my purse before following Julie to the elevators.
Julie doesn’t say much as she leads me into the gleaming glass lobby of the arena.
It’s daytime, and there’s no game in progress, so the only other people we pass are employees and players.
I keep my head down, keenly aware of my smell, my clothes, my ferret, and my shame.
I must look like a little kid who ran away from home.
Worse, I look like someone who doesn’t know how to take care of myself. Who can’t.
Julie takes me around to another set of elevators and into the management offices on the upper floor. When we step into the hallway, someone looks up from her open door.
“I stopped by that cafe we like, and I brought you—oh! Whose this?” The woman’s pitying expression makes me want to sink into the floor.
“Renee, meet Minerva. She’s Dante’s goddaughter.” Julie points to the wax paper bag and the smoothie, alone in a cardboard carrying tray, that sits on the edge of Renee’s desk. “Is that for me?”
“It’s a green goddess smoothie and a kouign-amann.
” Renee peers at me with interest. She probably can’t believe that the Giovanettis are affiliated with someone you can smell from fifty yards away.
To her credit, she takes my appearance in stride.
“Should I have his assistant put his other appointments on hold?”
“Please do.” Julie scoops up the bag and the drink. She turns to me. “Minerva, I should warn you, he’s probably yelling at someone.”
“Or talking about ‘the magic.’” Renee makes air quotes. She and Julie both roll their eyes.
I’m taken aback by their attitude. I’ve never heard my mother make fun of her husband. Frankie can get away with being a brat, but the rest of us walk on eggshells, even when he’s not in the room.
“Just ignore him,” Renee says, her voice soft with sympathy.
“He loves the sound of his own voice,” Julie adds. “
Ignore him? He’s a lifelong friend of my father’s. These are men who aren’t used to hearing the word ‘no.’ Both women are watching me, though, so I bob my head in silent agreement.
“Come along, then.” Julie pushes through another door into Dante’s private office.
Dante Giovanetti is an imposing man, but age has softened the hard edges of his aura.
His thick hair has gone almost entirely gray, and his posture is less intimidating but he still wears the tailor-made dove gray suits I remember from my childhood.
A massive desk dominates the room, surrounded by pictures of Dante shaking hands with various people, and a massive giclee print of the Vegas Venom huddled around the Stanley Cup.
Their last win was almost thirty years ago, and the Dante in the photo is much younger than the man seated before me now.
“Hey, sunshine. Got a situation.” Julie strides toward the desk.
Dante lifts his head. “If this is about the cappuccino machine again, I swear to Christ—”
Julie interrupts. “It’s about Minerva.”
The lines around Dante’s mouth soften when he sees me. “Well, well, well, look who finally came in from the VIP parking.”
Julie’s nostrils flare. “Wait. You knew she was out there?”
“Of course I knew. I know everything. There’s CCTV out there, so I knew nobody was bothering her. And I knew she’d eventually come to me for help. As she should.”
I clear my throat, tired of being talked about rather than acknowledged directly. “To be clear, Julie brought me.”
Dante’s gaze traces down to the carrier clenched in my fist. “You and your rat. Right.”
“Kepler’s a ferret.”
“Minerva, please have a seat and put down Kepler’s carrier.” Julie nods to one of the two available chairs. As soon as I’m seated, she passes me the bag and the beverage. “Have these. You look like you could use some real food.”
I take a slurp of the smoothie and almost groan with relief. Julie settles herself in the other chair, and the pair of them watch me tear into the buttery, flaky, sweet-bottomed pastry. It’s like a croissant, but better. I would happily eat ten of these.
I’m still brushing pastry flakes off my shirt when Dante asks, “So, still not going to marry that goon?”
Julie’s eyebrows shoot up. She must not have known about Luca.
I curl back into the chair, gripping the smoothie in both hands, and shake my head. “I can’t.”
“You could,” Dante corrects. “But you won’t. Because you don’t love him?”
“Because he’s awful.” My hands clench around the drink until the plastic cup crackles. “He’s worse than awful. I’d rather eat Tide pods than marry him. That’s why my father told me to figure things out. So I am. I’m trying. I promise I’m trying.”
“That’s enough.” Julie reaches for me. If my mother was saying those words, they’d be harsh, and would probably be followed by a slap across the face. Julie, however, sounds sympathetic. She rubs my shoulder a few times. “If you don’t want to marry him, that’s good enough for us.”
I bite back a sob. “I’ve been trying to find a job, I promise, but nobody calls back. I’m weird. People think I’m weird. They don’t hire weird.”
Julie makes a soft shushing noise, like she’s trying to calm a frightened cat. “You’re brilliant. And brave. And you’re not staying in that car one more night.”
“Please don’t kick me out. I tried going to a women’s shelter, but I only stayed one night. I think Luca called around and pulled some strings, so that no shelter in Vegas will take me in.”
“We’re not kicking you out.” Julie sniffs. “And this Luca asshole can call as many times as he likes. We won’t be intimidated.”
That’s not what I’m worried about. Dante could stand up to my father if he wanted to, but they’re friends.
“Please don’t send me back,” I whisper.
I look up through my eyelashes and consider Dante, who’s watching me intently with his fingers steepled. He does look angry, but I can’t read him like I could read my father. I wish I knew where I stood.
Dante sucks his teeth. “You’ve got a degree in… what? Transgenic mice or some shit?”
That startles a laugh out of me, though I smother it quickly. “Biomedical engineering.”
He rolls his eyes. “Even worse.”
Julie wrinkles her nose at him. “Be nice. She’s a genius.”
“Of course she is. Vito never did know what to do with brilliance. Especially when it didn’t come with a dick attached.”
“Honey…” Julie warns. As if I didn’t know this already.
Dante rubs his face. He grumbles. “I’m thinking, Julie.
Christ. We don’t have any open jobs in the office.
And I’m not putting her in the damn casino.
Vito would lose his shit and then I’d have to listen to him whine for an hour.
But…” He tilts his head to one side. “You’re good at organizing, Minerva? ”
“Like… data?” I hope he’s not asking about the sort of things my father organizes. I’ve never been involved in his shady business dealings, and I have no plans to become a pawn in some game of Dante’s.
“Spreadsheets. Calendars.” Dante waves a hand. “Can you keep track of information?”
I give a wary nod.
“And you know how to do research, if you need to.” Dante nods in agreement with himself, but I’m still clueless about what he has in mind. “Eh, this could work.”
Julie bristles. “What could work? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that I have a job for her that could start now. Come on, Minerva, we’re headed down.”
“Down?” I ask. “Down where?”
“You’ll see. Leave the rat.”
I reach for Kepler’s carrier. “He’s a ferret.”
Dante, already halfway out the door, calls back, “No one cares.”
I don’t want to be separated from Kepler, but Julie gives me a comforting smile. “We’ll leave him here, and Renee will make sure that nobody comes in while we’re gone. As for my husband, don’t let him bully you, Minerva. If he doesn’t help you, I will.”
I want to believe her, but she reminds me so much of my mother, and my mother has never stood up for me. On the other hand, Julie’s been really nice so far. Even if she can’t help me, I can’t see her or Renee doing anything to hurt Kepler. I follow Dante, and Julie brings up the rear.
Dante leads us back to the elevators, but instead of going back to the ground floor, we go to an even lower level. It’s cooler down here. I can hear the whoosh of skates on ice, the sounds of men’s voices, the thud of pucks hitting boards.
I’ve always found the team, and athletes in general, to be intimidating. They’re big, and loud, and muscular. They’re men like Luca, men who can use their size and strength to take what they want, wielding both their words and their bodies like weapons.
But Dante is already walking, so I follow.
Because everyone in my life controls me—but Dante?
He commands. We walk toward the ice, and even through my fear, I have to admit that I’m curious.
If this plan of Dante’s will get me out from under my father’s thumb, and away from Luca, then I’ll do anything.
Anything.
I’m done being everybody’s pawn.