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“She’s a woman, not a business merger.”
“She’s both,” Rocco says. “And she was the only child of the boss. Because she’s female, the Watkins name ends with her.”
“How are you related?” I ask, truly curious.
“Elena’s father and our mother are siblings,” Shane says. “Our mother married Pop, bringing in the Martinellis to the family. The connection between the Wakinses and the Martinellis goes back generations. Sometimes, it was good. And other times not so good. Our parents’ marriage smoothed the relationship, and made the Watkinses stronger than they ever were without us.”
“And that was the goal with Elena,” Rocco continues. “She was betrothed to a member of the Russian mafia, but that didn’t work out for…various reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“Those aren’t important,” Shane replies. “What is important is that you understand why you’ll never marry Elena, and why you can’t be a member of this family. If you’re brought in, your loyalties have to change immediately. Family first.”
“And he means the mafia family,” Rocco clarifies. “Not your family, or Elena. The organization as a whole.”
“Your family, the people you care about and come from, will no longer exist in your world. You’ll be completely consumed by the Martinellis and their needs.”
Bull. Shit.
“I can see that doesn’t sit well,” Shane says. “And it shouldn’t. We’re not a normal situation. Unless you’re born and bred into it, it seems wrong. But it’s not. It’s just…different.”
“Killing and blackmailing aren’t wrong?” I ask.
Rocco cracks his knuckles. “They probably deserved to get dead.”
I shake my head and turn back to the door, wondering what’s happening in the living room.
“You’re not going to talk me out of what I want, gentlemen.”
“So, you’re willing to risk your family, your business, everything for Elena? You’d choose her over those you love the most? Because that’s what it boils down to, Archer.” Shane tilts his head to the side, watching me carefully. “What are you willing to do? What are you willing to give up for the woman you say you love?”* * *“God, I’m so tired,” Elena says. It’s twenty-four hours later, and nothing has changed. We’re in the same apartment, wearing the same clothes, stuck with the same people.
The difference there is, the cousins have taken turns sleeping.
We aren’t allowed to do that.
“I don’t understand this particular form of psychological warfare,” I say, keeping my voice mild when I feel anything but. I long to stand and pace the room, punch a wall. Anything. “You keep us awake for what?”
“Mental exhaustion is just one way to wear a person down,” Elena says with a sigh and leans her head on my shoulder. We’re curled up on the couch together while Carmine and Shane work on laptops at the dining room table. “It’s an old trick. Guys, just let me nap.”
“No,” Carmine says as he continues tapping on the keyboard of his laptop.
“What do you want?” I ask, still mindful to keep my voice calm. “Are you wearing us down to talk about something? Do I have information you need? What’s the end goal here?”
Carmine looks up from his computer. “We want you to willfully leave Elena be. To agree to disappear from her life forever.”
“No.”
Elena stiffens beside me. “Are you fucking serious?” she demands. “That’s what this is about?”
“What did you think it was about?” Shane asks.
“I thought you were just holding us here and being jerks until Uncle Carlo decided to stop by.”
“That’s only part of it,” Carmine says. “The end goal, as Archer put it, is for him to leave permanently.”
“Not going to happen.”
“No?”
“No.”
Carmine sits back in his chair and sighs. “I get it, Archer. Elena’s easy to love. She always has been. But don’t do this to yourself. You won’t win.”
Oh, yeah, motherfucker? Try me.
Carmine stands and, with his computer, walks to us, sitting on the arm of the sofa as he taps some keys.
A photo comes up of Rocco squatting next to two little girls at a park, and I feel my blood run cold.
“Who’s that?” Elena asks.
“My cousin’s daughters.”
I’m going to rip your damn eyeballs out of your skull.
“Seems your cousins drop their kids off at birthday parties and just leave.” Carmine clicks his tongue. “That’s not very safe. Anyone could just walk right up to little Olivia and Stella here and snatch them away. Look at how they’re laughing at what Rocco’s telling them.”
“When was this?” Elena asks.
“This afternoon,” Carmine says as if he’s talking about what kind of flowers he plans to plant in his garden this year. “Oh, look at this one. It really is fun to look at photos of your family.”
He taps the arrow key, and a new picture fills the screen.
“Anastasia, isn’t it?” he asks. “She’s beautiful.”
If you touch a hair on her head, they will never find your fucking body.
“Looks like she’s leaving a women’s health clinic. Did you know she’s pregnant?”
