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He walks out, limping hard on the brace. I watch him go, trembling. The cooks stare at me, some of them looking concerned, but I force myself to turn away.
Tears roll down my cheeks. I return to my seat by the door, sobbing quietly as waiters walk past me bearing trays of food for the party outside. They ignore me, save for pitying glances.
I sob into my hands and say nothing. Eighteen steps. It feels like I just took ten million.
Chapter 18
Mirella
Fynn holds up a glass of champagne. “To eighteen steps.”
I touch my glass to his. Karah and Elise join in, followed by Nico and Casso. Olivia’s got a glass, but she doesn’t drink. “To eighteen steps,” Casso echoes, “and to eating my words.” Everyone laughs and the mood is easy and jubilant.
Fynn grins at me and winks, and I try to smile back, but it’s hard. My encounter with my dad in the kitchen plagues me, and I’m trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. He wanted to tell me something—some truth I didn’t know—but he lost his nerve at the last second and instead left me with some cryptic bullshit.
“You seem a little out of it,” Elise says and we stand apart from the rest of the celebration. We’re out back on the patio as the sun sinks in the sky with tiki torches casting long shadows and chasing the bugs away.
“Just been a long day.”
“I heard he wasn’t perfect.” She nods at where Fynn’s leaning on his cane, talking to Nico. “I heard he nearly fell. They’re acting like this was a big success, but I’m not so sure.”
I wave that off. “Just a little stumble. Otherwise, he did a lot better than I thought he would.”
“But he needs to be perfect. Any sign of weakness…” She trails off, biting her lip, and laughs bitterly. “Listen to me, I sound like an old mob wife all of a sudden. God, this is what happens when you’re around this family for so long.” She slips her hand into my arm and leans against my shoulder. She’s warm and smells like a light, floral perfume. “Is he improving? Do you think he’ll regain his mobility?”
“If not a hundred percent, then ninety.” And I really mean it. After watching his progress and getting a sense of his work ethic, there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll keep going until he’s back to himself, and I believe his body’s going to heal and allow him to do it.
It’s only a matter of time.
And then he won’t need me anymore.
Which is a strange thought to have. It’s bittersweet. I’ll get to go home, return to my life, but at this point, I wonder if the real world is worth returning to. Mom needs me, that’s true, but other than that I don’t have much waiting for me out there. A crappy apartment, no job, no prospects, few friends still in town.
And I’ve gotten used to being at Villa Bruno. I mean, aside from my pushy asshole patient, I like being with Karah and Olivia and Elise. I like the comfort and the staff and the amenities. It’s like living in a five-star hotel. I’ve gotten spoiled.
“That’s really good to hear,” Elise says, nodding, and sighs. “The house feels like it’s full again. Ever since Karah married Nico and Olivia married Casso, it’s like the family’s repairing itself.”
“That’s nice to hear. Does it feel good?”
“Truthfully, I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder how I fit into all this.”
“I was wondering the same thing.”
She smiles at me and kisses my cheek. “Sweetie, you know how you fit. Just look at Fynn.”
I glance in his direction and I’m startled to find him staring at me. He’s standing with Casso and Karah and Nico, and Nico’s telling a story, but Fynn’s eyes are locked on me like he can’t make himself look away. It’s intense and searching, and I feel a thrill run down my spine and lodge in my stomach. This man, he can’t get enough of me, he can’t even tear his eyes away for ten minutes.
I’ve never been wanted like this before, never so intensely.
It feels good. I hate to admit it—but the anger I felt when I first came here is beginning to fade. My hatred for all things mafia is still there, simmering away in the background, but it’s like that part of my personality is hidden. It’s not as important as it once was.
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” I say honestly, my cheeks turning pink.
And Elise just laughs. “I think you do, sweetie.” She pats my arm and walks off.
Fynn takes her place. He doesn’t hesitate, just comes over the second she’s gone, like he can’t stand seeing me alone. “Nice night for a celebration,” he says. “What were you talking about with Elise?”
