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“Your uncle is not happy, Rosalie,” Angelo scolded through the phone.
I ran a brush through my hair as I watched myself in the bathroom mirror. “Unfortunately for him, my life goal is not to please him.”
I snagged a knot in my hair and puffed out a frustrated breath. Placing my phone on speaker, I put it down on the counter as I attempted to detangle my messy locks.
I heard soft laughter come from down the line. “Gone a few days and I can already hear more strength in your heart. Despite the circumstances, it is good to hear.”
I smiled, it was true. I was feeling stronger. I wasn’t sure why. I was about to do something completely crazy and dangerous, throw myself into the deep end of the swimming pool and hope that I could keep my head above the water. The difference between now and a few months ago when I was in much the same situation, was that I had people willing to jump in after me and pull me out if I found myself sinking.
“I feel it, too,” I told him quietly, picking up my foundation and shaking it.
“Any particular reason for this change?”
I sighed, dabbing some liquid on my brush and applying it to my face. “I’m making amends.”
“With the bikers?” he asked curiously.
“Sort of, I guess.”
I stroked the brush under my eyes, the dark circles that were once there were slowly beginning to disappear and I could already tell that my face was filling out.
After everything that went down with Marco, I’d lost a lot of weight and my skin had become pale and patchy. Even moving to New York City with my uncle and cousins had not done much to change my appearance. I’d lost my love of exercise and health, and had fallen into what I can see now was a dark depression. The hole had been slowly swallowing me and I didn’t know how to escape from it, just letting it drag me deeper. The hole was still there, and I was still fighting to get out. But I felt like someone had finally thrown me a rope.
“Don’t let anyone make you feel like you have something to prove, tesoro mio,” Angelo told me with a tone that I couldn’t quite read.
Was it anger?
“The only one I’m trying to prove something to is myself, Angelo.”
“We can be our toughest critic.”
I studied myself in the mirror, picking up my blush, I stroked it lightly onto my cheeks. “While I love chatting with you, boss man.” He chuckled. “Was there any particular reason for this call?”
“Your uncle wants you home,” his voice was harsh and unconvincing.
I frowned at the cell phone. “I thought I had a choice? I come back, or I forfeit my rights to the DePalma name.”
“Is that was he told you?” I jumped, my eyes looking up and finding Blizzard’s reflection in the mirror. Leaning against the doorframe behind me.
I narrowed my eyes. “I locked the door. How did you get in?”
“Answer the fucking question,” he demanded, not allowing me to distract him.
“Not in so many words, but that’s what I took from it.”
“Rosalie?” Angelo’s voice echoed in the small space.
“That’s not her fucking name,” Blizzard snapped, not moving his eyes from me. The atmosphere was becoming tense very quickly. I picked up the phone and switched off the speaker, holding it to my ear but keeping my eyes on Blizzard.
“Angelo, you and I both know that’s not my home. I wasn’t happy there,” I sighed, talking softly. Angelo was a strong force. He took no shit and had a million men at his disposal, ready to back him with a single word. He may work for my uncle, but his men were loyal to him and him only.
“You’re willing to walk away from your family?” His voice was tense, no longer playful or thoughtful.
“DNA isn’t always the answer. What if there’s something better for me? What if there was a place I could be happy and content that isn’t with the people whose blood I shared? Should I give up on having that just because we don’t share a name?” I gripped the vanity and leaned forward. I wanted to believe that place could be here, but at this point, the club was still very wary of me.
I just knew that I was not born to be a DePalma. I would rather walk away now with nothing, than live a lie for the rest of my life and possibly bring shame on my uncle and my cousins. I still cared for them. My heart skipped, it’s erratic thumping filling the silence.
“I would tell you that happiness trumps everything,” he finally said, his voice soft and smooth but still sure and confident. “Anthony has been like family to me for a long time now. Gio, Rico, and Cee, too. He’s done much more for me than my blood ever did.”
