AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I point at his bleeding mouth. "Who did that?"
Avel slurs as he speaks. "Washn't a big deal. My fault. Liza shaid I couldn't have another girl cuz I'm too trashed. I wuz tryin' to charm her, but I guessh I losht my touch."
Liza's face appears around the door frame. "I'm sorry, Vladi, but that boy doesn't know when to shut up. I slapped him, but my ring caught his lip. Looks worse than it is."
I laugh. Liza is six feet tall with curves for days—a bona fide Amazon. Avel should thank his lucky stars she didn't knock him into next week.
"It's okay," I say, getting to my feet. "Avel can't hold his liquor, but he'll learn. We'll take his stupid ass home where he can't trouble your girls."
"Okay." Liza wags a finger at Avel. "You grow up, Mr. Man. No bratva boy is big enough to show his ass in here. Am I lying, Vladi?"
"No," I say as I wrap Avel's arm over my shoulder. "You hear that, kid? It's way past your bedtime."
"I love you,brat," Avel mumbles. "You're such a good brother. Looked after me and Lilyana. Never quit, no matter what Papa…" The words disintegrate into drowsy gibberish.
"We're all done here," I say. "I'm tired. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow, and I'd rather not have my head in my ass."
"Fuck's sake." David catches my eye and grins. "We could have gotten drunk at home, and Avel might have seen out the evening without getting backhanded."
"No guarantees, even then," Sasha says.
"You boys need me to lay on a car to get you home?" Liza asks.
I nod. "Thank you. You gonna be there tomorrow?"
She shakes her head. "Work is work. But you'd better believe I'm dying to meet the ravishing beauty tying down the elusive and gorgeous Vladimir Kislev!"
* * *
Avel falls asleep in the limousine, waking when we drag him into the house. He's arguing with Sasha over whether to order pizza as I sneak away.
I open the door to the bedroom. Morgana is asleep, boxes and bags everywhere, so I assume someone delivered her shopping earlier in the evening. My wedding suit is hanging on a rail in the dressing room, pressed and ready, my shoes shined to perfection on the floor beneath it.
I open a closet, pushing a panel in the back wall. It slides away to reveal a secret compartment.
Mama was spirited away from her Tuscan home to marry my father, but she already had a young man she adored. He wrote her many letters when she still lived in Italy—heartfelt missives proclaiming his love. They had only shared kisses when she had to leave her home, with no time to explain. Mama told my father in a fit of helpless anger, and he swore he would have her lover tracked down and murdered if she spoke his name again.
My father brutally stole Mama's tender virginity, saved for the sweet boy she had dreamed of marrying. She locked her broken heart away right here, and when I was a child, she shared it with me.
I reach into the void and extract the bundle of letters. The one on top is the last one Mama received. My Italian is pretty good, but I don't need to be fluent to read this letter. I know it word for word already.
My beautiful Stefania,
I dream of the day courage finds us, and we tell your father about our love. I will be at your side always, no matter what obstacles stand in our way.
Without your heart to warm me, the world would be as cold as the distant stars. I thank the heavens and the angels for lighting my path and blessing my life.
I can't help falling in love with you.
Love always, Your Luca
I fold the letter carefully and put it back in the bundle. Delving into the secret compartment again, I find the velvet box containing my mother's wedding ring. The one given to my father by Mama's family as a sign of good faith.
It would be laughable if it wasn't so soulless. Luca should have been the one to put that ring on Mama's finger, but her family didn't value her beyond her usefulness as a bargaining chip. That brutal marriage sealed a truce that has stood ever since, keeping our two families in a stand-off. Mutually assured destruction if either side starts a fight.
I close my fist around the ring, warming the gold. My Papa thinks it's in Mama's urn with her ashes. If he finds out I kept it, he'll go fucking crazy.
Mama believed I had love in my heart—she put it there. But she took her love away when she left me, and the pain seared my emotions, leaving me numb. My father beat me for years, but I felt more agony at that moment when Mama's eyes closed for the last time.
