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Dad’s lip curled. “This is unacceptable, even for you, son. Do you even realize how bad you fucked up this time?”
“If Fabiano finds out, things are going to get very unpleasant,” Nino said.
I smiled sardonically. That was the understatement of the year. “I guess I have this talent of treating the ladies right from you, Dad. Kidnapping Mom set a very good example for me.”
Dad curled his hands to fists. I could imagine how hard it was for him to control his rage right now. “I should send you away. Aurora shouldn’t have to run from your idiocy.”
“If you send me to New York, you can kiss peace goodbye.”
Dad shook his head, his body stiff with fury. “I don’t have the patience to deal with him today. For what he did, the only punishment that comes to mind…” He turned back to the door and kicked it in. It landed with an earsplitting bang on the small terrace, sending splinters flying everywhere. He stalked away without another word.
Nino released a small sigh.
A couple of minutes later, Kiara poked her head in, her brows drawn together in concern. “What’s the matter?”
“You don’t want to know, trust me,” I muttered.
“He’s right.”
Kiara glanced from Nino to me with pursed lips. “Things have been tense recently.”
“And they have the potential to get far worse, so please don’t try to find out more,” Nino said.
Kiara nodded slowly. But I knew her caring, motherly nature would send her to my room soon. The hopeless optimist in her still thought I needed mental support.
“I assume Dad won’t talk to Fabiano about this?” I asked when Kiara was gone.
Nino shook his head. “Keeping a secret of this proportion might look like betrayal to Fabiano, but telling him might have consequences we don’t even want to consider. We can only hope that Aurora won’t tell him and that the dust settles on the matter.”
I doubted Aurora would spill the beans. She wasn’t like that, even if she’d threatened me with telling her father.
“I assume you know to keep your distance from Aurora until further notice,” Nino said quietly.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t the first time I spent time away from home. The previous two summers, I’d spent a couple of weeks with Adamo and Dinara at the racing track to watch their son Roman while they dealt with business.
But I’d be gone longer this time. Maybe just for two months during the summer, or maybe beyond that. I wasn’t sure how long my heart would need to heal, how long it would take to come to terms with the fact that Nevio and I were a bad idea that would never happen. I wanted to turn love to hate, wanted to shield my heart with pure contempt for the man who’d ignored me most of my life and then taken my virginity without even realizing it was me, as if I were so inconsequential to him that even then my presence hadn’t registered.
When I landed in New York, I was nervous. I wasn’t even alone. Dad had insisted on accompanying me. I supposed he wanted to make sure I was really well protected. Things between the Camorra and the Famiglia were still somewhat shaky despite Greta’s marriage to Amo.
I’d briefly considered living with them, but they were newlyweds, so my presence would probably bother them. Not to mention, Greta was too close to Nevio. That seemed like an awfully bad idea.
Dad and I took a cab to the townhouse where my aunt Aria lived with her family. My cousin Valerio was around my age, but I hadn't seen him very often due to the physical distance between us and the war.
Dad was mainly concerned about me being under Luca’s roof and rule for the time of my stay. Luca was the Capo of the Famiglia and, according to Dad’s frequent rants, an overconfident madman.
I never mentioned that Remo didn’t have the best reputation either.
When we pulled up in front of their townhouse, I felt a hint of nervousness. The door opened when Dad and I approached the staircase leading up to the entrance.
Aria, closely shadowed by Luca, stood in the doorway. Her beaming expression calmed my anxiety. Luca looked less enthused, though I attributed that to seeing Dad. Those two had butted heads in the past, and the look that passed between them had me worried that Dad might change his mind. After the utter relief I felt upon leaving Las Vegas, I couldn’t imagine returning right away.
Aria must have seen the worry in my expression because she hugged me in greeting and whispered, “It’ll be all right.”
I gave her a grateful smile and followed her into the living room. It was pure Aria—light, bright colors and an air of warmth. I felt instantly welcome, almost at home.
We settled at the dining table, and soon after, a maid carried pots and bowls with food into the room. Enough to feed an army.
