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“Nothing is too much for you. Your brother hates to drop you off, but he loves to pick you up.”
And pick up the girls, when he’s at my school, I thought to myself. Whenever he visited, the girls in my dorm would make fools of themselves drooling over him. It was gross. He had brown wavy hair, whereas I was a blonde, but we shared the same brown eyes. The difference was in our build. Where I was slim, except for in the hips and butt, he was big and tall. I knew he didn’t touch jailbait but still…hearing about him hooking up with one of the girls I went to school with was too skeevy to bear.
The only one I would’ve tolerated was Jewel, but she was horrified when I told her about some of our archaic traditions. After that, she swore that she’d have nothing to do with Romanian mafie types. No matter how many times my brother flirted with her, nothing was worth the risk of curtailing her freedom by force-tying herself to a man. After witnessing the serious lack of romance in my engagement, who could blame her? She was a romantic, and there was nothing romantic about marrying a guy who hated you on principle.
My father’s heavy tread came up the stairs from his basement office. I was on my feet and flinging myself at him by the time he reached the opening to the living room.
His strong arms wrapped around me and held me tight. “My Cat. How’s my fiica frumos, my beautiful daughter?”
I buried my face into his button-down shirt, inhaling his cologne. It smelled of safety and home. He worked long hours, insisting that he should be involved in the daily workings of his clan. I already didn’t have enough time with him. I sniffed. Soon, I’d have even less. Once I was a married woman, and part of a rival clan no less, I’d rarely get to spend alone time with him. It was sporadic enough when we lived under the same roof.
“It’s good to be home,” I choked out.
My family hadn’t come to my graduation. I hadn’t told them that I was valedictorian because it didn’t hold any significance for them. The long car ride would’ve been too much for my mother. Cristo would’ve come if I had asked him, but it seemed pointless to drag him away when it was always so busy here. Even though they’d never understand what education meant to me, that didn’t mean I loved them any less for it.
His eyes bled regret. “I know you had hoped to stay with us longer. I blame myself for this. If we didn’t need this contract with the Lupu bastards to bring in revenue, I would’ve considered breaking it, but my hands were tied.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew how crucial this marriage was. Mafie marriages were powerful contracts between families that usually included financial arrangements. At first, Cristo was supposed to marry the Lupu mafie princess, but she ran off. Although the bride might have absconded, the marriage had to go forward. I replaced Cristo, and Luca, the second son of the Lupu clan, was supposed to take his sister’s place.
He refused to play along.
Even though it wasn’t personal, that rejection stung a little. My father always wanted the sef, Alex, to become my husband. As a punishment for his attempt to trick Alex, I was given to Nicu. He had the worst reputation of any made man in our circles.
“At least Mama is thrilled,” I joked. I loved her, but her near obsession with the status of our clan was legendary.
He snorted. “There’s that.”
I covered his hand with mine. “You know I’d do anything to make your lives easier. Anything.”
His eyes dipped down, attempting to cover his shame for not being able to shield me from the harsh demands of our world. He cleared his throat.
“How was the train ride? You know your brother could’ve picked you up?” he asked in a gentle reprimand.
Dashing a rogue tear from the corner of my eye, I replied, “I know, I know. But with a shipment coming into Jersey two nights ago, I knew he’d be tired. I’m fine taking the train. There’s a gang of us who go together, some going as far south as Washington, D.C., so I always have someone to sit with.”
He’d heard this numerous times, so he simply nodded. He didn’t have bodyguards on me while I was at school, or on the ride there and back, but that would change now that I was home. New York City was home, but it was also where our greatest enemies lived.
As if hearing my thoughts, he mused, “I’ll get Simu to arrange a soldier to be on call for when you go out.”
Simu.
Oh, Simu.
I swallowed around my tight throat and nodded.
Simu was Cristo’s best friend and my father’s consilier. It didn’t get more complicated than that, considering how protective my brother was of me. Simu might have come from a famed aristocratic Romanian family, the Cantacuzino, but my father had pulled him off the streets of Bucharest.
Simu was like a brother to me until I came home for winter break two years ago. Suddenly, it was as if I’d seen him for the first time. When he’d stopped by to chat with my father, he’d done a double take. His eyes had raked down my body in a way that made me feel all tingly.
I’d caught him watching me, time and time again. At church during the Christmas Eve service. At the café where Cristo hung out. At the warehouse when I’d stopped by to drop something off for my father. Every time, he’d pause to take a good, long look at me. Last summer, we’d shared a few kisses. They were…sweet, which was a surprise considering his reputation as a bad boy. My father never broached the subject of Simu with me, so when I was told Nicu was to be my husband, I knew our little flirtation was over with.
* * *
Later,as we sat down for dinner, Simu came by to talk to my father. This time, his eyes didn’t linger. His lips didn’t either when he bent down to kiss me on the cheeks. If anything, he avoided my gaze. My heart sank a little. He was acting as if I’d betrayed him.
Late that evening, I was about to take the stairs up as Simu rounded the corner and made a full stop. My foot paused on the step. Hand tightening around the banister, I sent him a withering look.
His gaze flicked away.
