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I settled in across from them, letting myself gape at the sheer size of the vehicle along with the soft leather of the seats. I’d never been in a limo before. Some kids in my junior class had rented one for prom. By then, I had already been kicked out for alleged misconduct, so I hadn’t been invited. But I did see them as they drove by the Denny’s restaurant.
My gaze shifted to the window and the early afternoon traffic. For no reason at all, I looked for Enzo on the busy streets, or whenever another limo pulled up next to us. Since Penny had told me the soirée was at his beach house, I hadn’t stopped thinking about what I would do if I saw him again. After the evil look he shot my way last night after football practice, the best thing to do would be to avoid him as much as possible.
And just like that, I fell down the Enzo rabbit hole all over again. I had spent the entire night dissecting and overanalyzing his reaction to seeing me and his reasons for it. Did he think that after I met him at Tiffany’s that I ran out to find out who he was, befriended his second cousin, and then proceeded to stalk him? That wasn’t how it’d happened at all, but fuck, it sure did look like it. No wonder he was pissed when he spotted me in the crowd, surrounded by other girls who were also there to spy on him.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the car window. In the sunny afternoon, surrounded by a luscious lawn, his eyes had looked so green— a contrast to how dark they’d seemed under the halogen lights in the jewelry store.
Jeez, I really needed to get out more if I was full-blown obsessed with a guy who talked to me once. He obviously hated me. Maybe if I explained how I wasn’t at practice for him, he’d change his mind.
Stop it.
I had already gone through multiple scenarios last night, where I went up to him and explained, or had Penny explain on my behalf. Either way, the outcome was the same. Enzo couldn’t be my friend, let alone my boyfriend. What I felt when he touched me at Tiffany’s didn’t matter. It wasn’t real. Not to mention, he was the future don of House Alfera. He was a mobster. Or was going to be. That was a huge deal. His world was dangerous and most definitely bad for my health. And he hated stalkers.
So I had to stick to the original plan of keeping my head down and getting through senior year unnoticed. Next year, I’d be at Columbia, and Enzo and his mobster friends would be a thing of the past.
“I think that Rory is a smart girl.” Mom’s sweet voice filtered through the myriad of thoughts flitting through my mind and cutting through the last image I had of Enzo’s angry face.
Her saccharine tone was the one she usually reserved for when she spoke to Dad. I had to guess they were talking about me, so I turned to face her to let her know she had my attention. Of course, she could see right through my blank expression. I had zoned out shortly after we reached the interstate and had no clue what they were talking about.
“Your father had a great idea.” She arched her brow—her signature move to get me to pay attention. And also, to play along.
“Oh yeah?” I smiled at Dad.
“Tonight’s party is a big deal. We’re not here to have fun. We’re here to make connections and see what opportunities come up.”
Dad has had this same idea many times before. The last time, he conned his boss out of five thousand dollars. He was caught, of course. And then his boss retaliated by taking our house as repayment. And as a bonus for “hurting his feelings,” the boss also asked for Mom—to humiliate Dad, no doubt. After the beating Dad took the night his boss found him hiding in a motel outside Vegas, he would’ve said yes to anything, including selling off his own children. Luckily, it hadn’t come to that. Thanks to Mom.
Jesus, we’d come full circle. I didn’t know much about Dad’s new job, but I was one hundred percent sure that if Dad ever crossed Don Alfera and his organization, none of us would live to tell the tale. Don Alfera could make us disappear, and no one would bat an eye. He was far more powerful than Dad’s old boss.
“You should do the same.” He pointed at my dress. “You clean up nice. I’m sure they’ll notice.”
“What do you mean?”
He inhaled and slow blinked at the same time. “You’ll be eighteen soon. Marriage to anyone within Don Alfera’s circle would be a good match.”
“I’m sure there are plenty of cute boys at school.” Mom cut him off and reached over to squeeze my fingers.
“Boys? No, she needs someone who’s already connected, not some stupid kid living off his folks’ money.” He clicked his teeth. “Your mother and I will find you someone suitable. The fancy Suits like them young. You’ll do alright.” He ducked to get a better view of the heavy traffic up ahead, then added, “You’ll thank me later.”
Mom squeezed my hand tighter, silently telling me she wouldn’t let Dad go that far—that she wouldn’t let him sell me off to some old man with, what he considered, appropriate mobster connections and money. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. Either way, the whole idea made me sick to my stomach.
I wasn’t sure what her reassuring gesture meant. Maybe she was just feeling sorry for me because if Dad really wanted to marry me off, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Mom loved this new world, where she was respected and included, and she wouldn’t do anything that might cost her, her newly-established status.
I thought about how heartbroken she’d been yesterday, when she had to let the twins go to a school she’d never seen. But then she recovered quickly because she knew that if she put up too much of a fuss, Signoria Vittoria would find a way to ship us all back to Las Vegas.
Mom had mentioned she wanted to move on. Forget Vegas and start fresh in New York. In her eyes, all this glamour erased the time when we lost our house and she had to sleep with Dad’s boss to repay his debt. Maybe she had already forgotten about those months, but I hadn’t.
I could tell Dad that his plan sucked. But that would only make him angry. The best thing to do was to ignore him and bide my time until I turned eighteen and was able to go off on my own. I sure as hell didn’t need a husband for that.
“I want to go to Columbia next year, Dad. Signoria Vittoria said she could get me in.”
“We don’t need her. Just do as I say, and we’ll make it here.” He smirked at me as if he knew something I didn’t. “We’ll make it big.”
I let my head fall back and then roll to the side, so I could look out the window again. This right here was the problem with Dad. He was always looking for the next thing. Two weeks into his new job, and he already wanted something better.
“Stefano, we agreed.” Mom rubbed his leg. “Our daughter needs time to adjust to her new surroundings. You promised you would let her finish high school.”
Gee, thanks, Mom!
