Chapter 34 Francesca
Francesca
It’s a rainy autumn morning two weeks later, and I’m stifling yawns. Carlo is sinfully good at making it worthwhile to stay up late.
We've had to pick Aurora up again, and we're chatting when Faro interrupts. "No one's available to drive you home for me, Rory," he says gruffly.
I realize he’s a little torn over what to do. It’s his duty to guard me, but he doesn't want to leave Aurora unprotected. “If you just want to walk me to the door, I’ll be safe inside the school. You can take Aurora home.”
He doesn't like it but agrees. “Stay inside. Luca will be here soon.”
“Luca?” A chill passes through me. Unlike Renato with his charming, teenage nonchalance, Luca still scares me as much as he did that day in our garden in Boston years ago when I saw his menacing smile for the first time.
“Sì. Carlo trusts his brothers with you, and he trusts me. No others.”
Aurora’s sympathetic smile tells me I wasn’t quick enough hiding my misgivings before I agree and let him walk me inside.
I slip into my Music Theory class right before it begins.
I smile at the girl sitting beside me. She gives me a leery smile in return that doesn’t reach her eyes.
A spark of annoyance blazes. Here, I’m still the outsider, and people look at me with the same distrust people within the Trio have for years.
At least in the Trio, that wouldn’t have been the case if not for Da’s actions.
Of course, I have a bodyguard escorting me around the school and, while the press might label Carlo a wealthy businessman, not everyone is that stupid. Family, mine and my husband’s, a few friends, I’m beginning to realize that’s as close to normal as my life will ever be.
I throw myself into taking notes until a new disruption comes along. “Yes, hello, Miss…” the professor prompts, impatiently.
“Radcliff,” a young woman replies. “I’m new here.”
The professor frowns before his face goes oddly blank a moment later. I suppose a new student after the semester begins isn’t unusual. “You may sit anywhere that’s free,” the professor says, nodding toward the front row where I’m seated and continuing the lecture.
Tanned and toned, the girl wears white Converse sneakers, heavy makeup and has her dark hair teased within an inch of its life. “Hiya,” she says, smiling at me as she takes a seat.
I nod, surprised by her friendliness compared to the girl on the other side of me.
I wonder if she’s a transfer from another performing arts school.
She looks to be in her early twenties. She has a tattoo on her bicep barely hidden by her short-sleeved top and another peeping out from the top of one of her sneakers.
I’ve never been friends with a girl that has a tattoo, let alone two.
I never spent much time around outsiders at all.
The Catholic schools I attended were mostly filled with the spawn of the Trio or the brG’s sinners.
I’ll bet this girl isn’t expected to remain a virgin until her wedding night.
She looks like she’d be fun to get to know.
She pulls out a laptop before glancing my way again. I feel myself flushing, realizing I was caught staring at her. “I’m Harper,” she whispers, her dark eyes twinkling like she’s got an amazing secret to share.
“Frankie,” I reply, smiling back.
The professor clears his throat, and I quickly return to my notes, hating that my cheeks will be turning scarlet over the slight reprimand. Harper doesn’t attempt to speak again.
When class ends, my brother-in-law waits outside the classroom. Something about his fierce eyes paired with that sinister smile reminds me of a powder keg in search of a lit match. No one dares speak to me as he prowls along beside me, a head taller than anyone else.
Recalling what Faro said outside the school earlier, I shoot a questioning glance Luca’s way. He notices and smirks. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend. Dinora was mistaken.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking. I was wondering why Carlo doesn’t trust anyone but you, Renato or Faro with me.
Does he not trust his soldiers around me because of Da…
or is it because he doesn’t trust me? Or both?
” My shoulders slump, deciding the answer for myself and wondering why I bothered asking.
Something brushes the back of my hand lightly, so lightly I wonder if I imagined it when I glance down and find Luca's hand by his side and his attention fully back on the strangers surrounding us. He doesn’t speak until we’re standing outside my next class.
“Carlo doesn’t trust easily, Francesca. It would be most unwise of him to be that sort of man, but you are his wife.
He will never trust easily when it comes to you. ”
“I see,” I say, swallowing hard. He enjoys fucking me. He wanted me for his wife and got his way. That doesn’t mean he trusts me. It doesn’t mean he loves me, regardless of what Aurora said. “I need to go to the ladies' room before class starts,” I say, nodding at the door across the hall.
“Sure. Renato warned me you’re fond of hanging out in them,” Luca says, wryly. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to laugh or not. “Don’t take too long. I’m not as polite as our little brother.” Definitely not a laughing matter.
I slip inside… and nearly scream bloody murder when someone whispers my name. “Frankie.”
Whirling around, I find Maeve standing in one of the open stalls. “How did you-”
She holds up a visitor’s badge, the same sort of thing I wore during my tour. That’s twice she’s surprised me this way. Am I never to have a quiet pee again? She motions for me to come closer and pulls out a phone, handing it over after saying, “Here she is.”
“Frankie?” a male voice says.
“Ronan.” My throat is so tight it’s impossible to swallow. I’ve not spoken to him in nearly two months and so much has happened. “Are you alright? What happened with Sofia? Where did she-”
“We don’t have long. Can you slip away from your watchdog this afternoon? Tell him you want to go to Central Park and-”
“I can’t do that, Ronan. I have plans with Carlo’s sisters to get ice cream later.”
“Fine. Where are you going for ice cream with the brats?” he asks, impatiently.
“Ronan, they’re always guarded out in public and so am I. There’s no way I can safely meet you. Please, don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Where is Sofia?”
“I don’t know where she is. She didn’t meet me in that alley.”
My heart thunders with fresh terror having it confirmed. Our plan fell apart. I have no idea where my cousin is. What if someone terrible has captured her? “You need to find her and-”
“Fuck that, Frankie. You’re my sister. I know he forced you to marry him. Vows made under duress don’t count.”
“Please don't do anything stupid, Ronan. It would kill me and Mom if you got hurt." I start to panic, knowing Luca will walk in here any second. "I need to go,” I tell him, trying to push the phone toward Maeve.
“I’m your blood, Francesca. I won’t let you and Mom down. Don’t forget it.”
“I think she already has,” Maeve says as she takes the phone from my hand and ends the call. She gives me a venomous glare. “Ronan means to come for you. He may die trying. Do you appreciate that at all?”
“I don't want him to risk his life for me.”
“He spent two years hiding under a rock while you were living the high life in Nevada. He had to build himself back into someone the brG would even talk to, let alone work with and help. And what do you do when he reaches out? Send him on a fool’s errand for some stuck-up mafia bitch.”
“She’s our cousin.”
“Even now, you’re clinging to one of the bastards that wanted your brother’s blood. You must’ve inherited your sense of loyalty from your father, Frankie Donnelly. The girl I knew was better than this,” she finishes before stalking away.
***
Maeve’s words had wounded me deeply, and the entire encounter left me rattled.
In hindsight, the plan to help Sofia run during my audition wasn’t the best, and I had twisted Ronan’s arm to agree.
It all blew up in my face anyway. It led to Rocco attacking me and my uncle threatening me until Alessio was forced to kill his own father. It led to my marriage, too.
What’s happened to Sofia? If she’s dead because the plan was botched, I will never forgive myself. And am I selfish for not wanting to jump from one mob family to another one? For wanting to keep my brother safe?
I’d hurried out of the bathroom, away from Maeve’s accusations, to find Luca preparing to open the door in search of me.
He’d immediately noted my teary eyes, so I’d lied and told him I’d thrown up.
I’d clutched my belly for effect. My acting skills need work but, in this particular scenario, it worked on Luca.
“Francesca!” Carlo shouts, storming up the stairs to the bedroom as if the devil is at his heels. He’s soaking wet when he steps inside. The autumn rain must have picked up since I flopped down on the bed twenty minutes ago for a good cry.
“I’m okay.” He looks unconvinced by my tear-streaked face and hiccupping breaths. He carefully takes a seat on the bed beside me, lifting me into his lap until I’m cradled against him. God, he smells so good and his arms feel heavenly. If he knew…
Heavy steps echo up the steps. “Do you want the doc?” Luca asks with no hint of that menacing smile.
“Do we need the doc, Red?” Carlo repeats, like a soft caress.
They're worried about me, seriously worried, I realize. “No, I think it’s passed. I’m sorry to be so much trouble,” I whisper. The floodgates open again. I hate crying this way, but I can’t stop.
Luca’s heavy steps retreat back downstairs before the elevator beeps. “Are you so miserable being married to me?” Carlo murmurs.
I can’t answer him. I am miserable but not like he thinks. I love my brother, but I don’t want to return to Boston. I wanted a normal life, but maybe I don’t. Not if it means I can’t have Carlo. Everything I thought I never wanted, I think I want with him. It scares me more than I can say.