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Luc
Something was off with Summer. Stefano pulled me aside, but I kept an eye on her while she cooked and laughed with the wives. It took me a minute to realize that Stefano was speaking to me. When I shifted my gaze from Summer to him, he wore a knowing smirk.
“So it’s like that.”
I grunted because it was. “I told her she’ll move into the house with me when I take over the family.”
“You don’t have any more doubts about her, then?”
“No.” I could honestly say that. “Cartier was trying to fuck with me, which worked so well because of the money missing from my personal account and Summer’s reaction. If she hadn’t run, I would have questioned her without jumping to an accusation.”
“Possibly. But you need to be sure. Because if you bring her all the way in, you’ll need to be. Not only that, but she won’t be safe until she’s truly one of us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Stefano clapped me on the shoulder, his full sleeve of tats showing past the rolled-up button-down. “She’s protected by being here with us, but she won’t be if she leaves on her own. What do you think will happen when you send her back to one of your businesses? She’s fair game to the Amato family without your name.” He straightened then squeezed my arm before his hand fell away. “Emiliana and the rest of the wives have already adopted her into their group. It’s something to think about,” he said as he walked away.
Marriage?Pushing the thought to the back of my mind, I joined everyone else. The food was laid out on the island, so we could help ourselves to what we wanted. I filled my plate high and sat next to Summer, who had some fruit and a small portion of eggs.
“Half an hour, then we’re sparring.” Marco winked. “Might not want to eat so much.”
“It’s Sunday.” My fork clattered to the plate. “Don’t I get a day off?”
“There are no days off in the Mafia.” Max spooned another mound of eggs onto his plate.
While they talked, I watched Summer push food around on her plate. The fruit was gone, but I didn’t think she’d taken a single bite of her eggs. I nudged her with my leg. “Are you okay?” I kept my voice quiet, wanting the conversation to be as private as possible.
She gave up on the food and set her fork down before turning toward me. “Yeah, I just haven’t been feeling great. It’s probably stress.”
I smoothed a piece of hair that’d fallen forward back, tucking it behind her ear. “What are you stressed about? Work has been going well, and you’re safe here.”
“I can’t understand why they haven’t handed me over to Ben yet. Who am I to them?” Her eyes got misty, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m dirt poor. A nobody.”
I clasped her hands in mine, drew her to her feet, then pulled her to a room off the kitchen. It was quieter in there, and I wrapped my arms around her, her cheek resting against my chest, and rubbed my hand on her back in soothing, circular motions. I couldn’t just punch the problem in the face. Female emotions were tricky, but I could relate to what Summer was talking about. “I grew up in the system. Poor. Unwanted. My goddamned parents didn’t even want me.”
She sniffed then cuddled closer. I waited a second in case she would say something.
When she didn’t, I kept going. “I was passed from one foster home to the next. Some were good people, but more often, they weren’t. Then there were the schools in bad neighborhoods. I was small for my age for a long time. I had to think fast and be smarter than the bullies, some of whom were other foster kids. It was survival of the fittest. Then I get sent to a really shitty home with one other foster sibling—a girl.”
Summer leaned back, so we were face-to-face, at least sort of—she was a lot shorter. I tugged her over to the couch so we could sit and talk because holding her that close was sending signals through my body that I didn’t think she would appreciate at the moment.
“The girl had been sent to that home about a week before I got there. She was this tiny thing with big blue eyes and a cloud of messy brown hair. Scrawny. She was wary of me, and I kept my distance from her. But I noticed she didn’t breathe all that great sometimes. It didn’t take long for trust to grow between us. When I came home with a black eye or bleeding from whatever cut I’d just gotten, she’d help, either to hide it from social services or our foster parents with makeup she’d stolen—she got really good at covering bruises with that stuff. One night, I woke up to her coughing. I could hear the air wheezing in and out of her. It was scary as hell.”
“An asthma attack?”
I ran a hand through my hair, remembering how terrified I was. “The foster parents we were staying with were alcoholic shitbags who were passed out in the living room, the TV blaring so loud it was hard to fall asleep at night. I didn’t know how to help her.”
“What’d you do?” Summer leaned closer, her body tense.
“I got her out of there and down the block to one of my classmate’s houses. I knew his dad worked at the drugstore. I pounded on the door until someone answered. The dad did. He wanted to get our foster parents to take Breanna to the hospital, but there was no way they would have. And we would be taken away if they showed up there smelling like they’d been drinking. I wasn’t sure what would happen to Breanna if we were separated. I cared about her, and I’d promised to protect her. My word was all I had to go on. I didn’t want us to be apart because then I couldn’t keep my promise to her. And someone needed to look out for her.”
“So what happened?” Her hand rested on my leg.
“I begged him, told him just enough so that he would understand we couldn’t go to our foster parents. The guy helped us out. I don’t know what he did—refilled her old prescription or took a sample from the store. But he had a nebulizer at his house and got her started on that while he ran to the pharmacy. His wife sat with us. I guess one of their kids had asthma too. We were damn lucky.”
Summer huffed out a breath. “I can’t imagine. I mean, I get it because I don’t think my mom would have done anything to help in that situation either. She’d probably do another hit and escape reality a little harder so she didn’t have to deal.”
“Which is my point, in a way. I gave you my word that I would protect you. You’ll have a place to stay, and I won’t let the Amato family near you.”
