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“Hey, I saw you sitting there from my window,” Aurora said unnecessarily.
I nodded and took another deep pull.
She wrapped her arms around herself and tilted her head as if she was trying to see through my protective layer. “Mom and Dad refused to tell me what happened, but I gathered it was something about Greta. How is she?”
I grimaced and tossed my cigarette to the ground then stomped it with my boot. “She set a guy on fire. She’s in her room now, trying to come to terms with it.”
Aurora’s eyes grew huge and she sank down on the lounge chair beside me. She stared at me as if she was hoping I’d take the words back. “She would never do that. I just can’t believe it.”
I chuckled sardonically. “That’s what happens if you hang around me too often. My darkness rubs off. It’s more contagious than syphilis.”
She shook her head. “That’s not how it works. And you’re not dark.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Rory, ignorance can be a blessing but it can also be dangerous.”
She bit her lip, a deep frown lining her forehead. “It’s not about you. It’s about what she went through this last year, with losing Amo and all. Don’t blame yourself.”
My lips curled with contempt at hearing that loathed name. He was definitely responsible for the shit show, too, and he’d eventually pay for it, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t to blame.
“I just came outside to tell you I’m here if you need someone to talk. Alessio and Massimo might not always be the best choice for every topic. I can keep a secret, you know that.” Her voice was gentle and beckoning, and she put her palm on my hand hesitantly. I could feel it shake slightly. I frowned down at it, at the intimacy, at the way I actually didn’t mind it. For a moment I let it sit there, warm and soft against my night-cooled hand.
Then I pulled it away, building a barrier between us. “I’m fine. This is nothing a good killing session can’t cure.”
“Everyone has moments of weakness.”
I scoffed. “Aurora, stop trying to normalize me. I’m not like most people. I won’t ever be a victim in any scenario. I’m someone who turns other people into victims. If you want to save someone, do yourself a favor and don’t pretend I’m misunderstood and not fucking bad.”
Aurora nodded and got up, shoving her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe. “My offer stands,” she said softly before she turned and walked back to the Scuderi mansion.
She didn’t often show that side around me, but she could be stubborn. I liked that side of her.
Almost eighteen, about another year later
It was the first time I was back in New York in two years. The last time we’d all attended my cousin Amo Vitiello’s wedding to a woman who had later been killed by Nevio for hurting his twin, Greta. It hadn’t been a pleasant wedding. I still had nightmares about how the Famiglia had lured us all into a trap and attacked us.
I often woke from the sound of gunshots. It had been my first personal encounter with violence, the first time I’d really feared for my life. It had also been the day when my infatuation with Nevio had turned into something even more, something that was hard to put into words.
Nevio had saved us that day, in his very own way. Ruthless and brutal, how most people perceived him, but apart from the lust for violence I had seen something else in his eyes that day: love and concern. Not for me, for his twin Greta, but seeing those things had made me yearn to see the same emotions in his eyes for me one day. Foolish, I know.
Now Greta and Amo were married. There was peace between the Camorra and Famiglia again. War hadn’t lasted long but its effects still lingered in the deep distrust and animosity both sides felt for each other.
Greta was a beautiful bride and her happiness over marrying Amo was obvious. But what really brought tears to my eyes was the look in Amo’s eyes when he looked at her. Pure unrestrained adoration gleamed in them. He was so very obviously in love with her. Nobody could doubt his feelings after a look at him. I wondered if anyone would ever look at me like this.
My gaze slid to Nevio in the first row beside his parents and younger brother. He looked as if this was one of the worst days of his life. Letting go of his twin was hard. Nevio seemed so full of darkness and need for destruction that many didn’t think he cared about anyone but he had trouble letting go of the people he cared about. Greta was at the very top of this list.
I had attended several weddings in my life so far. As the daughter of the head Enforcer, it was part of my social duties. But this was the second tensest wedding of my life. The first had ended in war, and this one would end war for good. But suspicion and wariness saturated the air. I hadn’t seen my aunt and cousins in so long, and still hadn’t had a chance to talk to them. Their faces reflected forced joy, but beneath it I could see the same tension I felt. A wedding mere months after the peace treaty couldn’t be as free and joyous as a celebration like that warranted.
Especially Isabella was someone I wanted to talk to. She and I had always gotten along well, and I really hoped that was still the case. Luckily, she sat at my table. The parents of the groom and bride had to share a table, which led to quite a few very intense staring matches between Luca and Remo, and I was glad I wasn’t actually sitting at the table. It didn’t help the tension between those two that Nevio looked ready for trouble. He hated that Greta married Amo, but so far he’d behaved.
At our table there were my aunts Gianna and Liliana with their families, and following etiquette Nino and his family should have sat there too, but Matteo had threatened to stab both Massimo and Alessio with a “fucking” butter knife as rumor had it and so other arrangements had been made. I had to admit I was relieved on Isabella’s behalf. I could only imagine what it would do to her to spend an entire evening at a table with the very people who’d kidnapped her and threatened her life.
Nino and his family now shared a table with Adamo and Savio and their families. I was pretty sure Kiara had had a serious conversation with both Massimo and Alessio before the wedding because so far they had both done their best to avoid any contact, even with their eyes, with Isabella and Gianna, though the latter looked ready to start a new war.
I leaned over to Isabella who sat beside me. Her maroon curls framed her face wildly and I noticed she made sure to use the curtain of her hair to shield herself from the table to our right, where Alessio and Massimo were sitting. We hadn’t gotten the chance to talk yet, except for a few brief pleasantries because of the wedding schedule.
When Nevio had kidnapped Gianna and Isa to save us, I’d been relieved, had admired his bold move. I had avoided thinking what this had done to Isa. For me Alessio, Massimo and Nevio didn’t pose a danger, and I wasn’t scared of them, but Isa didn’t know them very well, and if I was being honest, knowing their reputation, I wasn’t sure if they wouldn’t have hurt her to get their message across.
Mom began chit-chatting with Liliana and Gianna about mundane things like yoga in an attempt to avoid any touchy subjects, and the list was very long…
