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CLARA
“Hey girl,” Gabriela greeted me as she moved deeper into the room. Plopping down on the carpet, she dropped her Hammitt handbag beside her, a sunset pink color in snakeskin that made me salivate it was so luxurious. I might have mostly grown up around men who were heathens, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate an exquisitely feminine fashion statement.
“Hey,” I replied, suddenly feeling a little timid. I was comfortable around rough mafie men but get me in a pink bedroom with two young girls and I felt like a fish out of water. Especially around Gabby, as she insisted I call her after the way we first met in the bathroom following the Tatum kiss rejection, as I’d come to call it. A girl’s first kiss should be special but mine only proved my father’s claim that I was never meant for love.
“What have you guys been doing without internet?” Gabby asked, her hazel eyes wide with horror. “I don’t even know how I’d survive that for, like, one day.”
Star let out a soft chuckle.
While I carried a tortured mix of emotions for her brother, there was no doubt I’d never met a person as sweet, kind, and authentic as Star. I gave Tatum and his mother credit for bringing her up right. She’d been reared with so much unconditional love she didn’t know how to be anything other than what she was. The only criticism was that she didn’t realize just how badass she was. There were holes in her self-esteem, and I couldn’t imagine where they’d come from growing up as she did.
Touching the Monopoly board, Star explained, “We found a way to while away the time—videos, makeup tutorials, thanks to my new big sister here. And Monopoly. Tatum even took time out of his busy day to play with us, if you can believe it.”
“I like the eyes, girl,” Gabby praised Star’s makeup. Star blushed, actually blushed, for wearing sexy eyeshadow. “As for Tatum, you know he’ll do anything for you. After what he went through as a kid, he’s super protective of you.”
My ears pricked up, the tips burning with curiosity. I shouldn’t want to know more about him, shouldn’t feed my growing obsession with him, but I was dying to hear about his life.
Casually, I asked, “What happened?”
Gabby’s eyes darted to Star for permission to answer my question. Star nodded her acquiescence.
“Well…you might not know this, but Tatum and Star’s father was Rudari, and you know how Romanians can be about the Roma. It didn’t matter that their mother was mafie nobility. Tatum got the worst bullying. Kids called him awful names, like tigani and corcitura.”
?iganiand corcitura. Gypsy and half-breed. I cringed at the words, imagining how they’d been used to hurt him. Ouch.
“Yeah,” Star confirmed. “He didn’t look like he does now, all big and strong. He was scrawny and small, with a shock of thick blond hair. When kids found out the pale, blond kid with the Anglo looks had a father who was Roma, they had a field day. I was just a baby, but my mother told me how he would come back from school every day beaten and bruised.” She swallowed. “My father insisted he not back down from any fight.”
My throat convulsed as I stifled a cry of outrage. A surge of rage shot through me, fury clanging in my heart at the thought of his callous father throwing him to the wolves day after day. Toxic masculinity at its best. Like a superhero, I wanted to fling myself into the past and stand up to those bullies on behalf of the skinny boy with wild blond hair.
Star’s eyes glistened and she sniffed. “It went on for almost a year. My mother begged him to let Tatum switch schools, but he refused.”
She cut herself off with a fist to her mouth.
My own lips pursed in a disapproving scowl.
Gabby picked up the narrative. “Her father wasn’t going to pull his son out of the one and only elite academy where all the mafie kids were sent, no matter how much they tortured his son. It didn’t stop until Alex came to Tatum’s rescue.”
“Alex?” I asked.
“Yup,” confirmed Gabby. “He took Tatum under his wing, and they’ve been thick as thieves ever since. Of course, everyone fell in line after that and kept their vile opinions to themselves.”
“When it came time to decide who would be his consilier after his father was killed alongside Gabby’s father, who was Mihail’s consilier,” explained Star, giving Gabby’s hand a squeeze, “there was no doubt it would be Tatum.”
“That year of hell stuck with him,” Star rattled on. “He’s not married, and I think it’s because he doesn’t trust the other families. He trusts Alex and his brothers. Especially Luca. But that’s it. He knows that, at some point, he has to marry a mafie girl, but whoever he marries will be the sister or cousin of one of his past tormentors, and that vexes him.”
Oh, wow. I did not expect to hear such a heartrending backstory. It explained why a man as handsome and powerful as Tatum remained unmarried, why he laughed off the many girls who tried to catch his attention and flirt with him. He knew the underbelly of every one of those girls’ families.
My phone rang. I flipped it over and saw my father calling. He only contacted me during the day if it had to do with family business. I took the call out in the hallway and came back in when I was finished.
When I returned, Gabby resumed our conversation by motioning to Star. “Tatum gets uptight when I mention his sister’s future marriage. I mean, with turning eighteen soon, it’s just around the corner, but whenever I bring it up, his face screws up really tight like he’s sucked on a lemon.”
My stomach swooped low as a realization dawned on me. Shame burned my cheeks.
“I taunted and attacked him like those bullies did,” I confessed.
Gabby’s eyes grew wide. “No—”
“No,” exclaimed Star vehemently. “You’re nothing like those bullies. It was different then. They took advantage of a sweet, kind, and helpless child. He’s a man now. He can handle it. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you he can handle anything.”
