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It was all Haven needed to slip away.
Throwing the gun across the room, she sprinted for the door. Nunzio recovered and came after her, yelling. Her hand grasped the knob as she unlocked the door, but he grabbed her before she could open it. She screamed Dominic’s name as he turned them around, pushing her roughly toward the bed. She fell and scurried away as he stalked toward her, the bang of the door being forced open her saving grace. Dominic ran in, a towel around his waist but still dripping water from his shower, and shoved Nunzio out of the way before helping Haven to her feet. “Are you okay?”
“It’s fine.” Haven wiped her tears. “I’m fine.”
“He didn’t hurt you, right?”
She shook her head as Nunzio scoffed. “Me, hurt her? That bitch attacked me!”
Dominic’s face twisted with rage as he snatched the gun from the floor. “Haven, leave. I need to have a talk with my old friend.”
Haven ran out and hesitated in the library before darting for Carmine’s room. Locking herself in there, she sat on the edge of the bed and covered her ears to drown out the fighting.
* * *
Carmine knew something had gone terribly wrong when he made it home from school and walked into a house filled with fighting. Curses and insults flew around in multiple languages, the anger and hostility coming from the kitchen palpable. Stunned, Carmine paused in the doorway, seeing his father sewing up a cut on Nunzio’s face. “What the fuck happened?”
Dominic walked up behind Carmine, eyeing him warily. “I should’ve watched Haven better. Nunzio cornered her.”
Carmine’s stomach dropped as he fought to keep his composure. “Where is she?”
“Up in your room,” Dominic said. “She said she was okay.”
Sighing, Carmine glanced back at his father in the kitchen as Nunzio snickered and pulled away. “That bitch begged for it.”
Carmine’s control slipped at those words. “What did you say?”
Nunzio glared at him. “I said she wanted me.”
Carmine leaped right for him, and Vincent blocked the path when Nunzio tried to move. Swinging, Carmine’s fist barely connected with the man’s nose when Sal intervened and dragged him away.
“You’re sick!” Carmine yelled as Vincent shoved Nunzio into the counter to continue sewing him up. Sal pulled Carmine into the foyer, not letting go of him until they were near the stairs. “This isn’t right!”
“I know, Principe, but didn’t we have a conversation yesterday about feelings having no place in business? He’ll face the consequences for disrespecting your father, but this isn’t a major violation.”
Carmine stared at him hard. “So she’s worth nothing to you people? Is that what you’re telling me? Oh, who gives a fuck if he hurts a girl? She’s no one special, because she wasn’t lucky enough to be born into a powerful family!”
Sal’s expression twisted with anger, the sight of it silencing Carmine. “That girl means more than you understand, but things are black and white to la famiglia. You need to learn how to distinguish between what’s personal and what’s business. You need to learn to follow the code of conduct here”—he smacked him in the back of the head—“and quit following this so much.” He punched Carmine in the chest, over his heart. “The moment you cursed at me yesterday, I knew she’d gotten to you here”—another punch in the chest—“and you’re going to cause problems if you don’t start using this.”
A final smack to the head sent Carmine over the edge. “Quit hitting me!”
Sal shook his head. “You know I think of you as a son. I’ve always treated you like you were my own, and I want what’s best for you. I want you to succeed, to have a good life, the life you’re supposed to have. I’m not telling you not to let the girl in here”—he tapped him lightly on the chest—“but I am telling you not to let those feelings override everything else. You need balance.”
Carmine ran his hands down his face, frustrated. “I get it.”
Sal clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re enamored. These things happen, but it’s a fragile situation that shouldn’t be flaunted. Trust me when I say it’s not the time to ignore reason.”
“I just . . . I didn’t realize it was obvious.”
“It’s a complicated situation,” Sal said. “Your father has a similar problem. I’ve spent years trying to get him to recognize boundaries, but he still finds himself blurring lines.” A loud bang rang out in the kitchen, and Salvatore sighed. “Now likely being one of those times.”
* * *
Haven stared at the clock, counting the minutes as they passed. Three. Five. Eight. Twelve. Sixteen. Twenty-two.
After thirty agonizing minutes, frantic footsteps bounded into the library. Someone tried to turn the locked doorknob, but Haven refused to open it, terrified to move. Keys jingled as the door opened, and Carmine rushed into the room.
He pulled her into his arms, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how long he held her before Dr. DeMarco’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Is she okay?”
