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He already knows me too well, giving me a shake of his head while he purses his lips like he disapproves. “Try not looking like you’re on your way to the guillotine,” he murmurs. “It might be easier to believe you.”
Guilia finds us before I can protest. “We can stop off for Starbies on the way or something,” she assures me, wrapping her arm around mine and then giving her brother a thumbs-up. “No worries. I’ll take good care of her.” He doesn’t look convinced, going so far as to have a brief, muttered conversation with the pair of guards waiting for us at the front door. I didn’t realize they were coming with us, which is naïve on my part. I need to get used to having men watching my every move sooner rather than later.
Guilia is blissfully unaware of my conflicted thoughts as she leads me to the waiting car. “This is going to be so fun.”
She’s right. It will be fun, just as long as I can dislodge the stick from my ass and enjoy myself.
* * *
“Oh my God. You need this.” Guilia’s enthusiastic declaration steals my attention from a gorgeous display of designer handbags. We’ve been in Saks for half an hour, and Guilia has already grabbed at least a dozen pieces she wants to try on while I’ve followed behind her along with a salesperson who looks like she’s glad she works on commission today, even if she appears intimidated by the hulking guards shadowing us.
One look at the price tag on the sleeveless black de la Renta dress she chose knocks the wind out of my lungs. “I couldn’t possibly,” I tell her with a breathless laugh.
She blinks her big, brown eyes, looking from me to the dress like the dress is the problem. “Why not?”
Why not? I look back and forth before lowering my voice to a whisper. “It’s so much money!”
Another blink. “Yeah?”
The thing is, she isn’t playing the part of the carefree, spoiled princess. This isn’t a joke. She simply doesn’t see what the big deal is because she was raised in this world. It’s all she’s ever known.
She must finally see the confusion and concern on my face for what it is because she turns to me with a serious expression. “You want to be part of our family? Tell me the truth. Do you?”
What is that tightness in my chest? Where does my hesitation come from? Because I open my mouth, prepared to rattle off the obvious answer, but nothing comes out. I can’t form the words intended to assure her. I settle with an honest reply. “I want to be with Luca. I want to be a part of his life. I want to be part of his world. And if that means also being part of your family, then that’s what I want because I want him, and I want him to be happy.”
She’s a shrewd kid. Her eyes narrow slightly, and her nostrils flare before her lips twitch. I realize too late she’s trying not to laugh. She loses the fight, and a giggle bubbles up. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. It’s something Dante is always getting on my case about.” She rolls her eyes, telling me exactly what she thinks.
“It seems like he gets on your case a lot,” I observe as gently as I can. “I’m an only child, so I wouldn’t know how that feels.”
“It’s not fun. But we’re not talking about me,” she points out, and any lingering feelings she has over her brother dissolve. “We’re talking about you. And I might be the youngest of the family, but I know what’s going on.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I remind her with a grin. “Remember? You were sort of my lifeline when I was locked in that room, recovering.”
“I know it’s not easy for you.” She bites her full bottom lip. Does she know how much she looks like Luca? Especially when she’s worried, they both get the same little lines between their eyebrows. “And once you get past how weird everything is, you’ll want to fit in. Is that not true?”
“It’s true,” I admit. “I want to fit in.”
“That means you need to start getting used to spending some money on yourself.” When I open my mouth to protest, she practically sticks a hand in my face, draping the dress over my shoulder. “Listen to me. I know what I’m talking about. You’re a nice person, and Luca wants you to be happy. So don’t beat yourself up for spending a little money.”
“It’s not my money,” I remind her in a whisper, taking the dress. The quality is obvious from the first touch, but it’s over three thousand dollars. I can’t make it seem like a logical purchase.
“What difference does that make?” she asks with a soft laugh. “If Luca bought it for you, the money would be coming from the same place.”
And that’s it. That is the fact that sits at the heart of my hesitation. She doesn’t know it, but she cut to it without trying. I know where that money came from. I know how many lives have been affected by the Santoro family’s business. Drugs, mostly, but they also ship weapons and run illegal gambling establishments. Sports betting, card games. How many tuition payments have gone into their pockets? Whose house went into foreclosure so I can afford to buy a de la Renta?
I want to be with Luca more than anything. I want him to be happy with me and proud to have me on his arm. One day, we might have a house full of our own family the way his parents do. The idea brings an image to life, one of love and laughter, and warms my heart.
If only I could make myself forget what I know to be true.
“Come on,” Guilia urges, already moving along. “We’ll try these things on and then have lunch at L’Avenue. It’s a little pretentious, but the food’s amazing. After that, we can look at shoes.”
“I’m in your hands,” I murmur, dazed, conflicted, and trying like hell to keep the idea of blood money out of my head.
4
LUCA
“I’m not sure I should let you out in public, looking like you do.” My hand closes over Emilia’s knee as we ride in the back seat of my BMW. Vinny is behind the wheel, and I smile to myself when I remember how furious I was at his fuck-up when he didn’t lock my office door and allowed Emilia to stumble in. While I haven’t exactly gotten over my irritation at his mistake since it reflects on what a dumbass he can be, on the flip side of the coin is the fact that Emilia sits beside me now.
