Page 42 of Above ’N’ Beyond

A business? Was that how her aunt justified her illegal operations?

Paola had been enjoying the fruits of being wife to a mob leader, living in the lap of luxury with fancy cars, clothes, jewelry, expensive vacations and a mansion to call home. The bottom line was she hadn’t wanted to lose the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed, and she’d turned to a life of crime to maintain it.

“My God, Paola.” Slowly Bella shook her head. “What’s happened to you? You used to be loving, caring. Now you’re just…ruthless.”

For a long moment, her aunt said nothing, then she took a deep breath. And were those tears glistening in Paola’s eyes? Not once since her uncle’s and cousin’s funerals had she ever seen her aunt cry.

“I’ll tell you what happened to me,” Paola said in a trembling voice. “I buried my husband, and I buried my son. But I survived. And when my home was taken from me, I survived that, too. Do you want to know how?”

Bella didn’t know whether to nod, but she did.

“By filling the void. By working hard. It made me stronger. You may not approve of what I am, but I’ve learned to embrace it. I would never go back to what I once was.”

A spurt of sympathy and understanding lodged solidly in Bella’s throat.

Paola was a powerful Mafia figure, but she was still a woman who’d suffered great loss and was still in pain. That much was obvious. Like everyone, Paola was a product of her past. Unlike most people, however, her past had been filled with violence, the likes of which most people were lucky enough never to live through. Paola had never dealt with the trauma of losing Uncle Angelo and her cousin. She’d never allowed herself to grieve.

For the first time in over a decade, Bella was getting a rare glimpse of the loving, caring woman her aunt had once been, and Bella had loved that woman. Sadly, circumstances had turned her into a cold, hard, unyielding person. Part of her aunt’s explanation made her feel sorry for the woman. “I’m sorry for your loss. You know I am.”

In less time than it took for Bella’s heart to beat twice, Paola’s expression hardened, that cold, ruthless persona she’d become accustomed to firmly back in place. “We’ve been through this before, and the answer is still the same. No.”

“Yes,” Bella said, raising her chin. If she wanted change, she had to be strong. One thing her aunt didn’t respect was cowardice. “In fact, it’s past time. I’ve turned the Bistro into a successful operation that’s made enough profit that I can afford to buy you out. It’s my restaurant. I worked hard to make it what it is, and I want it back.”

The sky over the river lit up with a bolt of lightning. Two seconds later, a crack of thunder rolled through the room.

Paola uttered a snort of disbelief. “You turned it into a successful operation? Your restaurant? And you think you made it what it is?” She threw back her head and laughed, not a pleasant sound, rather one that had the same effect as dragging nails down a chalkboard. “You seem to have forgotten the facts. I took you in when your parents died. I put food in your mouth and clothes on your back. I paid for you to go to culinary school, then gave you the money to buy the Bistro.”

Not wanting to back down, Bella said, “Then tack on the money you paid for my schooling. I don’t care. Just give me the Bistro.”

Paola rose and began to pace the sunroom, a sign Bella had finally gotten her pissed off. Well, good. If this was what it took, then so be it.

“You still don’t get it,” Paola said through gritted teeth. “You’re nothing without me. Even if I didn’t own controlling interest, Bianco’s Bistro is nothing without me. You actually have the audacity to think you’re behind its success. Well, little girl, you’re not. I am. I turned that filthy little dive into what it is today, not you. Do you actually think you and your quaint little atmosphere and your plebeian menu bring in customers?”

Plebeian? She and Lou worked hard creating food people loved. That menu was top notch.

“I bring in the customers.” Paola thumped her chest. “Most of your clientele comes to Bianco’s because of the mystique surrounding me and the Mancuso family. You could never have gotten the Bistro up and running successfully without me.”

Bella stood. This wasn’t going well, but she wasn’t about to back down. “You’re a criminal.” There. She’d said it. “Sell me your share of the Bistro before the government figures out what you’re doing and takes both our shares.”

For a woman of Paola’s age, she had the agility of a cat and lashed out before Bella could blink, slapping her on the cheek with enough force to whip Bella’s head around. “You ungrateful little bitch.”

Bella went as rigid as a steel beam. Her cheek stung more than the worst sunburn she’d ever experienced in her life, but that wasn’t what made her stand there, mute, stupefied, incapable of moving an inch.

Her parents had never hit her. Ever. Paola had.

The sweeping realization of the stark cold truth cut more deeply than the pain now radiating from her cheek to her scalp. The wondering was over. Now she knew for certain. Paola had never loved her, and she had to accept it, along with another biting truth.

The fight was over, and she’d lost. Completely and brutally.

A gruff snort came from the doorway. Just outside the sunroom stood Tony, Marco, and Jimmy. The snort had come from Jax, who sat beside Jimmy, his head hung low.

Great. Heat crept to her face and not from the sting of her aunt’s slap. Adding to her pain and suffering was the fact there’d been an audience to her utter humiliation. Tony witnessing such a tirade was nothing new. Even Marco knew her relationship with Paola was strained. It was Jimmy’s presence that upset her the most. He was her employee, her tenant. It was bad enough he’d seen Paola hit her, but there was another reason, one she couldn’t put her finger on, that was so disturbing about him seeing how her aunt treated her.

Over Jax’s head, their eyes met briefly, hers filled with unshed tears and his with a mixture of what looked like anger, concern, and… Oh God. Please not sympathy. His jaw clenched tightly, and a muscle ticked in his cheek. Why he would care, she didn’t know.

A throaty rumble came from Jax, and Jimmy tightened up on the dog’s leash, wrapping it around his big hand several times as if Jax were about to launch.

Numbly, she turned to leave.