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“A grass divider?” I tease, but I’m also trying to understand.
“No,” he answers softly. “The divider is dead center.”
I spin in a circle, taking in the sights of Main Street. It’s nothing too grand, just a few restaurants, boutiques, and quaint shops tucked away between the brick buildings that line each side. At the crossroads of Market Street, I spot The Tulip. Desmond simply watches me as I soak in the details.
Main Street and Market Street intersect like a cross, with a roundabout in the center. Market Street has most of the grocery stores and restaurants, while Main Street holds essential businesses. Fruit trees line the sidewalks to add beauty and provide shade. Tourists love them but feel guilty for picking fruit as they walk.
“It’s peaceful,” I murmur as I finish my spin, stopping before Desmond under the soft glow of a streetlight.
“When my mom settled here, there were only a few stores. The Tulip was one of them,” Desmond explains, pointing to the diner. “My mom had a vision to make everything accessible, not just to those with money.” He guides me with his hand, turning to look at the opposite side of Main Street, where the women’s shelter stands. “My mom lived there when she first got here. I was born in that house.”
“Your mom sounds like a strong woman,” I say, glancing up at him over my shoulder.
“She had to be,” he replies softly. “My mom could never tell her father she was pregnant. Women like her had their lives planned out the moment the doctor announced her sex at birth.”
I shudder to think about living a life that was already planned out, devoid of choices and surprises. It terrifies me to think how small my world would be without those things.
“That is her story to tell if she so chooses,” he says. “She built this town, the homes, the connections. Everyone in Lenora is well cared for. In return, all she asked for was their loyalty.”
“Sounds contractual,” I observe.
“It is,” he agrees without hesitation. “You can take the woman out of the mafia, but her family ingrained those lessons in her. She knew they’d look for her one day.”
“So she built an empire,” I murmur, my voice wavering slightly.
“A dynasty,” he corrects, his body pressing against mine to ensure I don’t back away from his words. His head tilts down until his cheek presses against mine, and I feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “Of shadows.”
“What does that mean?” I ask before I have a chance to think about it. Fear wells up inside me as I wait for him to answer.
“If I open the door to my world, Charlotte, you must never step outside of it again,” he says sternly. “But know this—you and Milo will always be safe here. I will keep you under my ironclad protection.”
“What did you mean earlier,” I ask him, my eyes still fixed on the women’s shelter across the street, “when you said you’d protect me until you can’t?”
“Do you want to know?”
I scoff. “Yes, I want to know.”
His hands glide up the side of my body until one wraps around my neck, tilting my head back. “I will protect you as long as I can while you live in that house.”
I lick my lips, still not quite understanding him.
“The moment I can no longer protect you, when you are away from me, is the moment that you don’t leave my side,” he murmurs, nipping my ear. “That is the moment you and Milo become family.”
Family. To many, it’s just a word, a name they call people who share the same DNA, but to a man like Desmond, family has an entirely different meaning—one founded on loyalty and blood oaths.
“Will you show me all of Lenora?” Nerves tickle the back of my throat as I ask.
Desmond’s grip tightens just a fraction before he lets go. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Twenty
Expectation isa singular noun heavy with anticipation, as if a celebration should accompany it with banners unfurling in the night sky or neon lights flashing overhead. Maybe even a mariachi band poised for an unexpected flash mob. Right now, though, it’s just expectation coursing through my veins as a sleek, black car glides toward us, seemingly materializing out of thin air. It’s as if the driver had been patiently waiting for Desmond’s signal.
Desmond’s warm hand slips into mine, and I respond with a tight squeeze, the unknown sending a shiver of fear down my spine.
Am I really doing this?Yes.
I inhale slowly through my nose, exhale through my mouth, and realize that this moment is destined to etch itself into the fabric of my life forever. Whether that proves to be a blessing or a curse remains uncertain. All I am sure of is that I won’t be leaving this town, and with each passing day, I’m less inclined to leave Desmond behind—perhaps not even Lyric, and maybe even his enigmatic brother, Matty.
