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“One thing at a time.” I put a finger on his chest. “The wedding is next. Babies first. Didn’t you know that’s how it goes? Where’s your propriety, Mr. Jones?”
“Babies. Then the wedding. Right.” Sean grins and follows me into the dining room.
Chapter 11
The table is set similarly to how I’d seen it before, but Connie decked it out a little bit thinking that this is a baby name announcement breakfast. I tug on the hem of my shirt. It’s weird to be half the size I was a few days ago. I haven’t cried at baby lotion commercials but my mood is still swaying like a palm frond in a gentle breeze. It’s not bad, but adding stress is the equivalent of setting the palm tree on fire.
I smooth the front of my blouse, which leads to a pair of new jeans I found in my wardrobe. Freshly pressed with a line down the center. My ballet shoes make me looks smaller. Less formidable. This family knows to better than to judge me like that by now. What you see is not what you get with Avery Stanz. I dragged my ass to this mansion on hand and knee, skin scraped to the bone when they needed me. When Sean needed me. Now we are all here together.
Everyone except Hallie and her boy who arrived late last night. I hid her in the nursery and out of sight until this threat is dealt with. I don’t want to put her or her child in danger. Pulling them out of hiding might have been stupid, but she needs Bryan. They both need the protection that only the Ferro family can give. Now I’m part of that fa
mily. And part criminal. Part crazy, if my brother foreshadows any bit of my future. I felt that line breaking within me, but it’s healed. It’s like a broken bone and will only show under the right conditions and this is one of them. Fighting to keep my son safe reveals that darkness within me. I’ll do what I need to do. No questions asked. No wonder why I get along so well with Constance. Jesus. I’m a younger version of her.
Sean inhales deeply, his chest filling his snug black t-shirt. As he exhales, he runs his hands through his dark hair, pushing it into place out of his stern face. He knows what we are going in there for now. What we’re asking of them. Each of his strides is long and determined. His hand is draped at my waist. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “I’ll follow your lead. They’ll rally around him, Avery. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not. I just wish we didn’t have to deal with this now. I’m head of the Campogne family. This shouldn’t be happening.”
“You’re a Ferro. You always have been. Combine that with your mother’s name, your father’s power, and our might—Avery, you’re the fucking Queen of Long Island. Mother has tried for the crown for years. You’re holding it. Put it on and do not apologize.”
I beat Constance at something. Crap. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want issues with her. Sean realizes what I’m thinking. His hands are on my face as he turns me toward him. “You are who you are. Never apologize for that either.”
“It’s just that, when I met you, I wanted to know how you lived like that because I couldn’t. Now I’ve done things—horrible things—that I never thought I was even capable of. I can kill. My hands are covered in blood and I don’t even care because I rationalized it was required—”
Sean ends my frantic rant by taking my hands between his. “It was required. You’re alive. If you didn’t do what you did, you’d be dead. The twins would be dead. We wouldn’t be standing here. You have changed. Your strength was drawn to the surface the way oil floats on water. You were trying to force it to the bottom of your soul before. You cannot hide strength like that. No matter what you do, it will rise. People will see it and recognize what it is and who you are. Never be ashamed of any of it. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You amaze me. You terrify me. And you love me. Do you know how amazing that is?” He grins at me and tucks a curl behind my ear. There’s a silent conversation between us as his finger strokes my cheek. When I give a nod, he steps towards the dining room doors ahead of me, enters, and silently walks to his seat.
Sound carries into the hallway. I hear, “where’s Avery?” But not from Connie. She knows what I’m doing. That this is a power play. That the most powerful person enters the room last. And that’s me. I gather my thoughts and figure out how I’m going to dive into this mess.
The chandelier hanging above me cast a golden glow on the linen-covered walls. Fancy braids edge the cornices and corbels top the whole thing off with a golden ceiling. It has a regal, but calming effect. The light fills my body with warmth and certainty. Power flows through me and I finally realize there’s a light and dark side to it. Glancing up at the light fixture I stare at it how it casts shadows in the alcove while lighting other sections. Shadow and light. Good and bad. They coexist.
Dark and light, demons and angels can both reside in me and I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I’m not perfect. I’m not a little girl. The world isn’t black and white. I finally get it. My brother let his light slip away. I won’t. Those two little babies will see to it. They’ll anchor me here, keep me balanced.
Inhaling deeply, I breathe in the scent of the mansion—lilac, eucalyptus, and sage. They calm, intensify, and soothe me at the same time. Constance selected that scent combination. It’s so muted that I barely notice it, but today it fills my lungs and I feel certain of my future for the first time in a long time.
I stride towards the massive double doors, carved with the story of the Fates scattered amongst figures that resemble the Ferros with their chiseled features. At the top of the doors is a long golden cord that swirls down to the bottom-most corner, unbroken where it’s still being woven. The Ferro story is still unfolding. The imagery hits me hard and even though I only saw these things out of the corner of my eye, they impact me. Straighten my spine. Solidify my purpose.
Head held high, chin slightly elevated, I enter the room. Sean is at the far end of the golden table. The head seat is vacant. His father is seated next to him and there is no barely legal swimsuit with her boobs on the table next to him. His father holds a mimosa in a champagne flute, looking idle. Peter sits next to his father with Sidney at his other side. She was smiling up at him saying something with her hand on his knee. Their glasses are untouched, still filled to the top and bubbling as if the champagne was just poured not a moment before I walked in.
Across from Peter and Sidney is Jon. He’s wearing a white button-down, open at the neck with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There’s no false grin on his face like I’ve seen so many times before. Instead, there’s actually affection and joy cast toward the woman at his side, Cassie. She looks the most uncomfortable but settles when Jon takes her hand, kisses the back of her palm, and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. Across from Jon is Bryan. The shorn head and serious expression are so not like him. Worry pinches his brow as he sits there in a deep green polo and kakis, hands tucked into his lap. His expression vacant. His mind is elsewhere. Seeing all the boys together is amazing. The only ones missing are Mel and Trystan, but he’ll arrive later tonight. Trystan will want to see Bryan, and see him before the tabloids blow up. Because they will. And Mel needs to see the babies.
Constance is seated at the end of the table closest to the door. The chairs next to her are filled with her sister, Elizabeth. I realize this is the first time Crazy Aunt Lizzy, Elizabeth, has seen that her son is alive. The woman is frigid toward her sister and her son. She ignores everyone, and sits there hands in lap. Uncle Luke sits at her other side. I’ve only seen pictures of him, but the man is wearing a foil on his fedora and a pink pinstriped suit with an ascot. No wonder why Constance banished him to Mississippi.
At the table, Constance is tight-lipped. Her scarlet nails digging into the tablecloth. When she spots me, she whirls in her seat. So does my mother from her spot at the table.
Mom cuts off Connie, “Avery.” She grins and lifts a glass in the air. “Get in here and tell us what you and Sean have decided. And then we obviously need to bring the babies in. Who is with them?”
The corner of my lips lift. “Someone trusted. Don’t worry.”
I have a feeling Constance already knows it’s Hallie, but she doesn’t speak even though it looks like a million words are ready to jump out of her mouth and dance down the table. Which is weird. She usually plays her cards close to her chest. Why can I read her anxiety? Maybe she can play the apathy card with her children, but not her grandbabies?
I pad across the room, passing the golden candelabras that cost more than a Miata and take my seat at the head of the table. Obviously, the guest of honor. I place my hands on either side of my plate setting, ignoring the plethora of forks and spoons. A footman pours me a mimosa before handing me the crystal flute filled with orange bubbling liquid. I lift the glass and say, “To the Ferros. For everything.”
Everyone nods and then drinks. While glasses are still to lips, I press on. “I didn’t call you all here today to reveal the babies’ names. Something else is going on and I need your help.”
Chapter 12
Before the room can erupt with questions, I press on. “I used the pretense of naming the children today because I knew you all love them and would do anything to protect them. And even though my children are only a few days old, there’s already been a threat.” I’m standing now. I don’t know how it happened. The letter is in my hand, revealing the threat.
Peter looks horrified. “What? When did this happen?” He reaches for the letter. His blue eyes scan it. They’re not exactly the same deep sapphire color of
Sean’s gaze. More like sky and Sean is the sea.
“When they were born.”
“You were sitting on this?” Jon asks, shocked. Then he glances at Sean. “What’s the plan?”
Constance interrupts. “I hardly think we should take this seriously at this point. Waiting for another letter would be—”
“Foolish,” Cassie blurts out as she reads the letter. “Did you notify the police?”
Constance and her husband both scoff. Constance states, “It’s premature. They won’t take one note seriously and neither should you.” Constance is adamant and ready to walk out. This is the same note that made her fetch me from the hospital. Her behavior is inconsistent. It doesn’t go unnoticed by me or Sean. He has an arched eyebrow as he watches his mother.
I stop her from leaving. “You’re the one who built my children a tower with steel doors to protect them. You can’t tell me that you didn’t take this seriously.”
“To protect them from future threats. Not this.” She flicks her red nails at the paper, disregarding its ominous words. “That’s a petty attempt to ruffle our feathers and nothing more.”
“Constance.” My voice is low and I say her name as a warning before I cut my gaze to hers. “This is not nothing. Not on the back of everything that just happened. If we don’t do something now, he’ll die.”
Constance laughs at me, “So dramatic.”
The entire room watches the exchange. Heads turning back and forth during the exchange, waiting for this to blow up.
My mother cuts in, eyes darting between Constance and me, attempting to diffuse things. “Honey, the children are safe here. If you feel threatened, then stay.” There’s a plea on her face to stop pushing, but I don’t heed it. I don’t notice until it’s too late.
“That’s not the point! No one threatens me. No one does this to us. Especially not my children!” My hands slam onto the tabletop, shaking the glasses. “No more Ferro targets. Period. No one comes at us every again. Zero tolerance. Are we agreed?” I look down the table and everyone nods. The only one who does not is Connie.
