I never should have spent so much on her, but I wanted her to have new supplies. “Gio!” She shouts in excitement. “You didn’t have to. This stuff is unbelievably expensive.” I don’t say anything back; I just smile. In this moment, everything seems worth it. She’s smiling back at me, parting her lips slightly as she licks them. “I wanted to.” Her smile leaves her lips when she looks at me. “Gio.” She sighs. “Smile again.” Her eyes find mine as she falls into my arms. Her body fits perfectly into mine, curling into my warmth. She feels light in my touch. Her head lifts off my shoulder, mouth moving toward my ear. “Thank you for my gift.” Her voice sounds so soft, almost seductive. Just as I am about to cave and give in to my temptations, her mother walks in, being louder than ever. “Tu es encore debout?” Miliana asks. Nina’s face quickly moves away from mine, looking at her art. She takes a deep breath before answering her mama. “Oui. I have been painting ever since we got back from dinner tonight.” “As you should, my dear.” Miliana struts toward me. “I just wanted to say goodbye to Giovanni before I head to bed tonight. I am so sorry I missed the dinner, but you know how those usually go.” She lets out a laugh. Nina’s head whips to mine. “You’re leaving?” I nod my head slowly and stand up to hug her mother. “Well, no one died today.” I laugh. “Such good news to hear. Please do let me know when you come back, Giovanni. I love seeing that handsome face every day. Reminds me of the days your mother and I would spend together!” Her words hurt as I remember my mother. “I will let you know, Mama. See you soon.” “Are you sure you can’t stay till tomorrow night? We have game night, remember?”
I would just say fuck it and stay with her, but I can’t. I have to get my priorities straight. Men like me don’t just give up. I am a Genovese. But would one more night really hurt? I should go, but I can’t shake the feeling of something telling me to stay. “I can stay for one more night.” She throws her arms up in the air as she dances around in a circle. I raise my eyebrows at her. What the hell is with these Romano women? “Okay, okay. Get back to whatever you two were doing.” A faint curve lifts her lips into a smile as she turns around to leave. I look down at Nina, trying to get her head back into painting. I could watch her paint for hours and not get bored. “Let’s celebrate.” Her head whips around. “I drank enough today.” “No, I don’t mean drinking. Just come with me.” I laugh. “And let’s get you changed.” OceanofPDF.com
W 17 NINA e drive for a good twenty minutes before Giovanni pulls onto the side of the road and parks the car outside a tattoo shop. I thought he’d had enough of them—his arms are covered. They’re even inching up onto his neck. The lights of the city shine into the car. The sign on the shop is flashing with busted batteries. I push my palms down on my sweatpants, trying to dry them off. “What are we doing here?” I finally ask. He falls back into the seat of the car, stretching out his long legs as his hand brushes over his sharp jawline. “Let’s make a deal.” His voice sounds demanding. “No.” I laugh more than I intend to. “That’s not something that interests me when it comes from you, especially when we are parked outside a tattoo shop.” “Just hear me out, Donnina.” “Okay, I’m waiting.” My fingers tap on my legs aggressively as I grow impatient even though it’s only been a few seconds. He rolls his eyes, letting out a sneer. “I want your father’s phone.” My head falls back when I hear what he said. “Gio, just stop. Why do you want his freaking phone so badly?” “I wasn’t done.” “Oh. Please, continue.” “I will let you tattoo anything you want on me, in exchange for his phone.”
My eyes fall from his, staring at a blank space on his neck. Ideas flood my mind, some of them making me laugh out loud. “See? It’s tempting, no?” I bite down on my bottom lip as I come up with more ideas. “It is.” I still don’t understand what he wants from my papa’s phone. I haven’t had the chance to look through it myself yet, but now he has me wondering if my own father is involved in something that would make Gio want to step in. His head tilts toward the door of the shop. “Ready?” “I guess so.” I push open my door and slam it shut fast. “Wait.” I freeze. “What makes you think I will uphold this deal?” He stutters as he thinks about the chances I won’t go through with getting the phone. “Like, who’s to say I don’t just go in, draw a tiny dick on your skin forever, and you can’t do anything about it?” I smile. This is interesting to me. “I figure you’d know better.” He glares at me. I mean, he’s right. I wouldn’t, but just the idea amuses me. He is trusting me with a lot right now. “Okay, let’s do this then.” He waves his hand at me as he walks around the car to open the door. He’s trying to be a gentleman so I won’t ink something embarrassing into his skin forever. His hand reaches for mine, and I take it. We walk into the shop full of intimidating men—but none as intimidating as Gio. “Genovese, who is this fine lady?” a woman with bright red hair asks as she leans over the counter, pushing her breasts together. Every woman looks at him like that. It kind of makes me sick to think about how many of them he has been with. I look up at Gio and he is looking down at me. I find a sense of reassurance in his look. He reaches for his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “Just don’t ask.” He puts his credit card on the table. “Do what you want with the card.” I rub my eyes when I realize just how much money he can throw at people to not ask questions.
“Follow me,” she says as Giovanni’s hand falls onto the small of my back. Once we reach the back of the room, she tells me how to work the tattoo gun. Honestly, none of it makes sense, and I don’t think I can do this. I have an idea of what I want to do, but if I can’t work the gun then who knows what will be on his skin? “You got it?” the redhead asks as I lie and nod. “Okay. Good luck, Geno.” Geno? She has a nickname for him? I stare at the platter of tools and colors. “All right, Donnina, I trust you,” he says as he unbuttons his shirt. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I see how defined he is. I take a deep breath, trying not to get distracted by his body. “Why don’t you use color?” “Never thought of it.” “Okay, well, I don’t want you to look while I do it.” I grab his shirt and wrap it around his head. I don’t want him to watch what I put on his skin, but I can’t have him looking at me the way he does. He looks at me with meaning, and I can’t have that. I learned my lesson at the dinner. I turn on the tool and dip it into the color pink. I let a giggle fall out by accident. Now he won’t trust me. And he shouldn’t. I tilt my head as I write into his skin. This is too good. Thirty minutes pass as I write two simple words on his collar bone— words that he will want to kill me for because they stick out like a sore thumb. In pink too. “All done.” I laugh as I put the tools away. I unwrap the shirt. His eyes are closed, hesitant to look at what is on his skin forever. “Do I look?” “Yes.” He stands up out of the chair, walking over to the mirror. A low chuckle spurts from his core. His tongue presses on the inside of his cheek, trying not to get mad. I can’t help but laugh uncontrollably right now. I haven’t felt this kind of happiness in so long. “Little man?” He turns toward me, shaking his head. He can act all mad, but I know he thinks it’s funny too.
“New deal,” he says. “Oh. Nope! You can’t change things now.” “We never shook hands.” The tight grip of his hands holds mine together. “Gio!” I shout. “You fucking asked for it.” He grabs the tattoo gun, dipping it in black. I try to move, but he moves his entire body on top of mine. I am a pebble being crushed by a freaking boulder. His elbow pushes onto my neck, keeping me still no matter how much I try to escape him. The needle stabs my skin, sending shocks through my body. “Ouch.” I give up fighting him because it’s getting me nowhere. “Go look,” he says, full of amusement. I shoot him a death glare as I walk up to the mirror. A spade. “Gio.” I touch the raw skin on my collar bone. “What did you just do?” “Sei mio.” OceanofPDF.com
I 18 NINA walk into Papa’s office. The entire downstairs is empty. The moon is the only source of light I have as I try to go through some of his paperwork. I open every single drawer and only find things that won’t help me. I don’t know how Giovanni expects me to find the work phone; Papa probably sleeps with it upstairs, tucked somewhere on him so no one can do what I’m doing right now. Never in my entire twenty years of life have I ever attempted to search through his things like this. My hand runs over the oak wood that makes up the desk. When I think about the deal I made with my papa, I want to remain oblivious to everything he does. I never wanted to be involved in any way —yet here I am. It’s my mistake. I never should have gone with Gio tonight. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. The fact that it was almost one in the morning and I willingly went for a drive with him thinking he wanted to celebrate my birthday . . . I should have known. I shake my head and walk over to the window. The cypress trees trail down the long driveway. Ana and I were the ones who planted them when we were young. We saw those trees in a cartoon one day and thought they would look good in our yard. Mama hired a gardener that summer, and we spent weeks on end planting so many seeds outside. I will never forget that summer. Things were simple.
The only thing I worried about was whether the seed would sprout into a tree or not. “What are you doing?” I swear my heart jumps out of my chest at the sound of my sister’s voice. If Papa catches me in here, I’m in deep shit. “Nothing,” I say with attitude. “Nina, what is going on? You have been acting so strange since dinner.” My eyes jump back and forth between her and the door. I could come clean about everything. I could tell her that I think Giovanni’s using me to go against our papa. I could tell her that I’m deeply attracted to a man I shouldn’t be. Maybe even tell her that he fucking branded me. Giovanni wears a spade on everything he owns. I noticed that his gun even has the symbol on it. I’ve never met a woman who has one. The realization that he thinks he owns me now makes my stomach weak. “I could tell you . . .” I pause, contemplating whether I really should or not. Would she view me differently? I’ve always been the big sister who takes control of what I want in life, and now I’m a puppet on strings for Giovanni. “Tell me,” she says, walking up to me, grabbing on my shoulders. Her eyes wander down to my neck. She sucks in a gasp, staring at the ink embedded in my skin. “Oh. Oh no, no, no.” “I know.” “Nina, no!” My hand flies to her mouth to cover her shout. “I know, Ana.” I move my hand. “What will you do? Oh my God, if men see this, they will never marry you.” I only nod. I don’t even know how to continue this conversation. No man will have me anymore. They know what Gio does to men who have what he wants. Giovanni wants me. I fall to the ground, covering my face from Ana so she won’t see the tears falling down my cheeks. “Okay, we will deal with that later. I have a sweater dress you can wear tomorrow. But what are you doing in Papa’s office?”
“Why are you even at this house anymore?” I snap at her, deflecting my anger. “I was going to leave, but I saw you get out of Giovanni’s car a little while ago, and I grew curious.” She grabs onto my arms, pulling me back onto my feet. “I need Papa’s phone.” “I’m sorry, you what?” “I made a deal, and I need his phone. Now.” She hits me on the head as if I can change the actions I already did. I’m in too deep; his paperwork is everywhere in the office right now. “Stop making deals with these men, stupide.” Her head falls back, and a laugh fills the room. “Well, if you are going down, so am I.” If we get caught, I don’t want her to go down with me. But it does feel nice to have someone helping me with this. I continue searching through a bunch of things in the office, not even sure where to look anymore. “Thank you,” I say as she scans the room shaking her head. “Did you look in here?” I walk over to the long drawer under the desk, trying to pull it open, but it’s locked. I slowly turn my head to Ana, and we both slam our mouths shut. There is something in this desk that I need. Ana steps closer to me as I take the bobby pin out of her hair and begin to pick the lock. “Are you sure?” “I am.” Once the lock clicks, I pull the drawer open, seeing five burner phones. I stare at them, trying to think about why he would need all these. Should I give all of them to Giovanni or go through them right now to see what’s on them? Maybe I should forget this happened. I never should have snooped. There’s a reason I never wanted anything to do with this life: I’m not cut out for it. When Papa told me to wear my best, that was the first time I’d even set foot in this room in months. Papa would never hurt me, but he would use other people to hurt me. He knows I hate what he does.
“Are those what Giovanni needs from you?” My sister sounds out of breath, sharing the same set of nerves as me. “Yes.” I grab all the phones and try to put everything in the office back to normal. I’m hoping he doesn’t need them anytime soon. He would know I was the one who took them. No one else in this house would go against him. Ana might be helping me, but I know that if it came down to it, she would tell our father I made her help me. She has done things like that her entire life. “Go home. Thanks for the help,” I tell her as I rush upstairs, locking my bedroom door behind me. OceanofPDF.com
T 19 NINA he house is filled with loud laughter and the sound of champagne glasses clinking. There isn’t much difference than the last time we had a game night with everyone. Family that didn’t show up to our family dinner have showed up tonight. Mama and Papa are talking to a man who doesn’t look familiar, but he is very good-looking. He is tall, young, and has a look of innocence, which is rare in my experience. He looks like he could be a cop. His face lifts into a smile that shows his white teeth. A contagious smile. Once I realize I have been ogling him for too long, I look around the room and see Max talking to another new girl. This one has a kid with her. I know for a fact I have never seen her before because she has jet-black hair, the opposite of what Max’s type is. He lifts a glass to his lips as he looks at the little girl who is trying to pull him to a board game. I haven’t seen him smile like that in years. That used to be me, pulling my brother’s arm and begging him to play a game with me. He always let me win, even if I cheated as if my life depended on it. “He’s a handsome man, isn’t he?” Madeleine steps behind me, planting a gentle kiss on the back of my head. She is talking about the man I don’t know. “To say the least.” “He hardly shows his face anymore. Such a shame.” She winks at him across the room, but he quickly looks away.
Is she involved with him? “Happy birthday!” Savini says, rushing toward Madeleine and me from across the room, directing everyone’s attention to me. “Savini, oh my gosh!” I throw my arms around her, embracing her in a hug. “Do the decorations look all right? I spoke to your mother, and we set up while you hid away in your room all day!” I flinch at her words. People noticed that I moped in my bedroom all day? But I couldn’t help it after everything that happened last night. “I love it,” I say, looking around the room, noticing all the birthday signs. Savini hardly comes by anymore. She is best friends with Madeleine. I kind of wish I was able to spend more time with them, but I don’t have the luxury. They’ve spent the past five years traveling the world, and I am sure they are not finished yet. Their experiences of the world only worsen my mood. I don’t want to celebrate this day. If anything, it is one of the worst days for me because it means my years of freedom are over. “It’s not too much?” Madeleine says, elbowing my side, laughing. “Not at all.” I lean on the kitchen island trying to push the memory of everything to do with Gio out of my head. Savini used to be involved with him. Some people say he got bored with her, and others say it’s because she has a bland personality. I don’t agree with the second one. She has always been a good person to hang out with. I don’t understand how someone could get bored of her either. She goes out every day, always chasing adventure. Last year, she couldn’t make it to the Christmas party because she was in Thailand sipping fine drinks and wearing a bikini all day. “Nina!” my father shouts, waving me over in his direction. My face flushes, my nerves getting the better of me. I move the turtleneck sweater dress further up my neck. I know the bruise and tattoo are covered, but I can’t help but feel like everyone here has X-ray vision. Madeleine and Savini widen their eyes at me. “Good luck,” Madeleine says, pulling on the ends of my hair.
I grab another drink off the kitchen counter before heading toward my parents and the very fine man. My feet grow roots in the floorboards beneath me as the new man looks me up and down, soaking in every feature I have. “This is Marco. I thought you two would like to meet officially.” Papa pushes me a little closer to him. “Marco.” His large hand reaches over to grab mine. “Nina.” I laugh, shaking his hand. “But I assume you knew that already.” I look over at my parents. Mama nods, shooting me a smile as she takes Papa away. I don’t know what is going on right now. I spent hours searching though his phones last night and saw that he was still trying to get me to marry Kirill. So why does he want me to talk to this man so badly? I really need to put those phones back. Wait—no, I need to give them to Gio. I take a deep breath and look up at Marco. His hair can’t decide if it wants to be black or brown. Depending on how the light hits it, it changes color. “Aren’t you hot?” he asks. “What?” “You’re wearing a heavy dress for August.” His chuckle warms my skin even more than this dress does. “Oh, no.” I laugh with him. “The house gets cold usually,” I lie. He takes a sip of his drink, clearing his throat. “So, Nina, which game was your favorite?” “Was? Are you kidding me? I would own you in Scrabble.” “Then why don’t you show me?” His hand glides along the lower part of my back, the same way Gio’s does. My eyes roam the room, looking for the man I am scared to see. The beat of my heart picks up when I can’t find him. Why am I even looking for him? I shouldn’t ever want to talk to him again. I take a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace that isn’t on, thank God. I think sweat would start to drip out of my pores if it were on. Marco watches me dump the letters out of the bag. “What? Are you too good to sit on the floor? Or are you nervous to lose?”
His tongue rolls over his teeth as he takes a seat in front of me. “Not nervous at all.” His eyes find mine, looking deeply. He takes off his coat as I flip over all the letters so we can pick them at random. “What do you do?” I’m curious to see if he is connected to my family’s activities, or if he is just a person who ran into the wrong people. “I do many things,” he says, losing his smile. So he is involved with my family in the way I hoped he wasn’t. “A lawyer, as of right now.” He grabs the letters and places them on the stand. “A lawyer? Is that difficult work?” “Can’t be that difficult,” a voice says from behind me. He grabs the back of my neck gently. The touch is all too familiar. A feeling I didn’t want to have on my skin tonight. “I don’t think we’ve met before.” His free hand reaches over me. “Giovanni Genovese.” “I don’t think so either,” Marco says, standing up, grabbing his hand, not introducing himself. The stance Marco has on Giovanni is attractive, to say the least. I have never seen a man threaten Gio, but for some reason, Marco does. “Madeleine is looking for you,” Gio says to Marco. “I’ll be back, Nina.” He stands up, shoulder checking Gio as he walks off. His grip tightens on my neck as he pulls me back to look him in the eyes. “I warned you about talking to other men.” He lets go of me, taking a seat where Marco once sat. I never thought that I would be wanting someone I hardly know to come back. “You can’t just tell me what to do,” I mutter so he can’t hear me. “I’m sorry, say that again. I couldn’t quite hear you, Donnina.” “Disrespectfully, Gio, I will talk to whoever the fuck I want.” His glare sends me many warnings that I don’t care to hear anymore. I am tired of whatever this is. He inches closer to me, pulling down the cloth at my neck. “Just making sure it’s still there.” He winks at me. My face falls flat, and I close my eyes.
My body wants him. Every touch from him makes every square inch of my skin feel like it’s burning. “What does it mean?” I ask calmly as his thumb glides over the tender spot. “It means where is the phone?” My eyes swing open, staring at the man who shows no emotion unless he wants something. The shirt of his collar falls, revealing the words I put on him. I am starting to think I don’t regret going last night. I might have a spade on me, but his tattoo belittles him. His mouth falls open as he takes a knife out of his pocket, cutting the dress. “Stop.” I try to remain calm, looking around me to make sure no one is watching. I hold the dress up and walk out of the room with no eyes on me, surprisingly, and make it upstairs to my bedroom, searching high and low for something else to wear. I don’t know why he thinks he can just act like that in front of my family. It’s disrespectful toward them, and me. I take the dress off. I have so many clothes, and I can’t seem to find one outfit to wear in this moment. The door slams shut as Giovanni walks in. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I shout as I try to cover as much of myself as I can with my small hands. He looks me up and down with a smile. I walk into my closet and throw on a long-sleeve black dress that falls mid-thigh. I didn’t want to wear this one because it’s one of my favorites, and none of my things are safe from the man who stands so calmly in my bedroom. I walk over to my nightstand, taking out all the phones and throwing each one at him with force. “Get the fuck out,” I say. He picks the phones up off the floor. “It means I will protect you.” “What?” “It means everything you wear from now on will show what is on your neck.” “Giovanni, that doesn’t make any sense. I can’t let people see this.” “A symbol of death, of war,” he says, switching phones.
“So you tattooed death on me?” I laugh because I can’t help it. I thought it was his way of claiming me in his own sick way. “I did.” He chuckles, stepping toward me, brushing my hair out of my face. “It means that if any man looks at you and sees this, they will deal with me.” “So that no man will ever take me as a wife? Gio, I can protect myself.” “I never said you couldn’t, Donnina. But I will protect you because you are mine.” “I’m not yours. Why can’t you understand that?” “You will be.” He throws the phones on the bed. “Go put those where you found them. I’m leaving tonight.” “For what?” “I’ll see you soon.” He cups my cheeks, kissing my forehead. My mind is scrambled. I can’t even begin to grasp an understanding of everything that is coming from his mouth. His words are on steady repeat, but there are only three words replaying in my head. You will be. OceanofPDF.com
I 20 NINA storm out of my room because I can’t stand being around him anymore. Somehow, in his dark, demented head, he thinks that I am his, and this is dead wrong. Come to think of it, I think I would rather have anyone else but him, including Kirill. When I walk into the room, Madeleine and Savini are whispering to each other over the counter still. I was away from them for maybe an hour, and they haven’t moved. I walk up to them, downing both of their drinks. They both stare at me and then back at each other with widened eyes. “What!” I shriek. “Oh . . . um . . . nothing?” Savini says, trying to hold back a smile. “What about this is funny to you?” “He gets under your skin, baby.” Madeleine’s brow furrows at me. “Does not.” Our stare down lasts for what feels like a year, but we all burst into laughter. I didn’t realize how obvious I was making myself look. Madeleine fills her glass and walks over to Max. His shoulders roll back as he sees her sauntering toward him. Her hands tug on his tie, and that’s when I look away. “I hope that’s not what I think it is,” I tell Savini. “It’s not. Don’t worry. We have a surprise for you. But we need a driver, and the three of us are not in the right state of mind to drive.” She pushes my arm, almost falling into me.
Madeleine and Max head our way. He takes the glasses out of our hands, his eyes narrowing on me. Maybe he is trying to play the big brother, but he acts like everyone else hasn’t had as much to drink as I have. “Ready, birthday girl?” he says, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Can’t really prepare for something I am clueless about, can I?” I turn my head, looking behind me. Madeleine and Savini both stumble over their own feet, holding onto each other. “It’ll be worth it,” Max says as he opens the car door. Loud giggles fill the back seat, followed by heckling. “Cry me a river,” I tell them, shooting them a smile. They wish they had the front seat. We drive for a half hour, heading into the city. I have no idea what they’ve planned, but I’m starting to think this may be a dangerous group. Three girls who don’t give two shits about the consequences of our own actions. Well, I do, but not during. I’ll deal with the punishment when it comes. Then there is Max, the kind of brother who does as he pleases but always has the perfect mindset somehow. Growing up, I never understood how he was always able to get away with anything he did, especially with Papa. To this day, I still don’t understand. Max pulls the car up to a parking garage. He clicks a button on the machine that draws out a ticket and drives all the way up to the top of the building. He parks and rushes out to open the trunk. I follow him, and so do Madeleine and Savini. Max pulls out a black duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder. Madeleine shoves him aside, grabbing a stack of glass plates. “What is this?” I finally ask. “You’re ruining the element of surprise, Nina. Follow me,” she says, slamming the trunk shut. She skips down the concrete like a five-year-old child with no worries in the world. I would pay big money to know what goes through her head. “Give me the bag, Maxie,” she says once we catch up to her. “I think you need to correct yourself if you want the bag.” She scoffs at him while Savini laughs, grabbing onto my shoulders. “Fine. Max, Give me the bag, please?”
“Better.” He doesn’t smile at her; he doesn’t show any emotion toward her at all. Savini rushes toward her, both rummaging through the bag. They pull out spray paint and a plastic bag full of Sharpies. “This is a little illegal, isn’t it?” My eyes widen. “That’s the fun of it!” Madeleine throws her arms into the air as she dances in circles. How could I forget how much fun she can be? “Come on, we used to do this all the time growing up.” We did. We did it far too much. “Okay, fuck it,” I say. “Language,” Max says. I glare at him. There is only one wall on the roof of the building: the wall that is connected to the elevator. “Paint what pisses you off!” Savini shouts. Staring at the wall, I contemplate how I could paint Giovanni. He gets under my skin, constantly threatening me then somehow making me feel better. That’s what pisses me off, the emotional whiplash. I grab red spray paint and take a step toward the wall. Blank, pure white. I am beginning to feel like this wall. That’s ridiculous. But it’s true. I was fine before Gio. He took a lot from me. God knows if any man will even take me anymore. Not to mention Papa doesn’t even know what is embedded in my skin right now. Before I give it any more thought, I tilt my head and push down on the nozzle, and red paint coats the wall. Red. His favorite color, and my least favorite. My hands move in circles as the spray falls on my dress. At this point, I don’t even care. This feels great. I step back, admiring my work. It’s not even work, it’s just a word, but it gets the message across. Max paces toward me. He is now standing at my side with his arms crossed and his lips pinched. “What?” I ask. “Spades.” “Spades,” I repeat, nodding my head as Madeleine and Savini dart toward the wall for their turn to paint.
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“E 21 GIOVANNI nzo, what is it?” My frustration builds. The plane hit the ground half an hour ago, and we’ve been sitting in the back of this Volvo for quite some time. I’ve been replying to emails as Enzo flips through file upon file. We left last night as soon as I saw what was on Rolando’s phone. It didn’t take me long to find it. He has been trying to get the marriage between Nina and Kirill back on track. I knew in that moment I had to go and sort this shit out if I want her to be mine. I have my suspicions about my father, but nothing is confirmed yet. “Boss, I suggest you look through this yourself.” He hands me the envelopes. Different ones from the warehouse. I share a glare with Enzo as I take out the papers. The car’s engine roars as we speed up the hill to my father’s estate. I piece together what is written on these papers. “Am I reading this correctly?” “Yes. They used the Romanos’ name as a cover.” I blink hard, trying to escape the situation I am in. There is no way in hell this is happening right now. I rub my eyes, trying to gather the strength to read the rest. “What do you need me to do?” “Just let me fucking think for a second.” Everything is beginning to make sense now. I can’t walk into my own house anymore without a threat. As if I could ever forget how I watched my own mother die in front of me, I am going to watch my father die the same way.
“Il cazzo?” he says, looking down at me as I watch him trying to undress my mother. He doesn’t succeed—I try to shoot him exactly where he shot my mother, but my aim is off because I’ve never shot a gun before. I place a bullet in his shoulder. He stumbles back, breathless and confused. He tries to take his gun off his back, but he can’t because he’s laying all his weight on it. Adrenaline fills my veins as I grab the knife from the man’s holster and decide to cut his ear off. He’s going to die either way for what he’s done to my mother, but he won’t hear her struggling to breathe. With one ear detached, I slam the knife into his heart—slowly, so he can feel the life leaving his body. With my hands covered in his blood, I hear more gunshots coming from the driveway. The familiar sound of my father’s voice echoing off the pavement as he calls for his wife. When she doesn’t answer, he stumbles into the door with fear flooding his eyes. It’s the only moment I’ve ever seen my father scared of something. “Giovanni.” He looks down at me with my hands still holding the knife I plunged into the stranger’s chest. I’m at a loss for words. I have no idea what to say to him. It’s his fault he wasn’t here to protect us. That’s one of his only duties as a man: protect his family. A painful burst of air escapes my lungs as I cry, stumbling back from the man I killed. I hold my mother’s head on my lap as her lifeless eyes stare back into mine. He walks over to the love of his life. He takes two of his fingers and closes her eyes shut. My father grabs my index finger and the knife out of the dead man’s heart. He presses the tip of the blade into my finger, drawing blood. “Sei un uomo adesso” are the only words he speaks. I am a man now. I took a life, and I’m only twelve. The scratching pressure on my throat tightens even more. To think that all this time I believed it was my fault for not stepping out of the crawlspace
in time, or that it was because my father didn’t come in time to protect his family. I could kill every single person who was involved in the murder of my mother, but it wouldn’t change that fact that it happened, and I have to live with the fact I couldn’t save her. As Enzo parks the car, I grab the gun from the seat and put it in the waistband of my pants. He looks at the gun and already understands what my intentions are. I blink away the memory of my mother and who I thought my father was and give Enzo a nod as we both exit the car. My father’s villa is on the top of a hill with a perfect view of the city. The city that he owns. The men blocking the doorway let us both in without giving it a second thought. I have been gone for years and they still remember the shit I am capable of. If they know what’s good for them, they will keep it up. As we walk through the door, I see a clear shot of my father on the balcony, sipping on his morning coffee without a single worry in his head. It would be a lot easier if I just shot him from where I’m standing, but I want to hear his side of the story. There will be no sympathy; I just want to know what his reason was. I continue to take steps closer to him. From where I stand right now, only a sliding glass door separates us. Separates him from his death. “Giovanni?” He lifts his weight off the table as I wave for him to sit back down. I’m not in the mood for hearing horseshit right now. I don’t need him to tell me how much he has missed me, or how much he has needed my help. I have only two goals in mind. One, to hear what shit he has gotten himself into. I need to make sure I hold back any harsh words, otherwise he’ll know something is going on. I need to know who I am going to have to deal with once I blow out his brains. My family believes in blood feud. I am almost positive that is why he hasn’t told me the truth of all this. He wants me to think there’s still someone out there that needs to be dealt with. Throughout the years, maybe that was his way of making me a man. I shake my head as I sit across from him. The chairs are made of steel, burning my skin through my pants because of the hot sun beating down on the surface.
My second goal: to hear his side. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to catch a breath if I don’t hear the words fall from his lips. To hear the harsh truth as to why he did what he did. The words he never thought he would have to say are the ones that will get him killed. “You’ve brought Enzo.” Enzo shifts his stance, about to kill him before I do. “So, Father,” I say. “What did you get yourself into this time?” He lets out a long sigh. “I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t have the time to deal with their shit.” He doesn’t have the time to deal with their shit? He’s sitting down drinking his coffee in the morning while I’ve been running around frantically trying to piece together my mother’s murder. A case that he has never blinked at twice. “They are not paying me back.” “Who is not paying you back?” “The Stepanovs.” “Why the fuck are you involved with the Stepanovs?” “The same reason you are, Giovanni.” I don’t think so. It started off with my cousin, Carlo, marrying Ana. That means my family is connected to theirs. But what I can’t seem to figure out is why Rolando wants to make an alliance with the Stepanovs. “What money did you lend them?” “It was two million.” “Two million?” I repeat to clarify. “Why?” “Yes. And as for the why, that part does not concern you.” My temper gets the better of me as I stand up and give Enzo a nod. In that moment, the gun clicks behind my father’s head as his eyes widen at mine. His eyes begin to fall once he realizes what position he put himself in. His tongue clicks. “So, you know?” I walk toward him and take my gun out, just like Enzo did. “Boss?” Enzo says. I shake my head at him. I want to be the one to kill him. My father laughs. “Boss? Are you serious? Listen, Enzo. Do I need to remind you how the ladder works?”
Enzo’s jaw tightens; he knows that soon he won’t have to listen to his bullshit. “You won’t kill me,” my father says as I punch him in the middle of his face. “Is that a challenge?” He holds his nose, trying to stop the blood from falling like running water. “I want to hear why you did it.” “Why I did what?” he practically shouts at me. My father is beginning to feel threated by me. “Why you killed my mother. Your loving wife. Why you walked over her dead body like it was nothing.” “I didn’t kill her—you know that.” “You fucking ordered it, Tommaso.” “Rightfully so.” “I am giving you three goddamn seconds to talk, or I promise the bullet that rests in this gun will be in your head.” “Okay.” He repositions his body so the majority of his weight is on the table. “Your mother.” I shake my head at his inability to say a sentence. He needs to get on with it—I don’t want to be here forever. “She had a kind soul. She loved you before you were even born. Hell, she was so in love with the idea of having a family it made me fall in love with her even more. She was the most perfect person, the perfect wife. But not for what I do. She made me look weak. “I had men from all over trying to tell me how my family would be the thing that got me killed. Look where that’s getting me. I ordered my men to kill her because she was pregnant with another child.” I lose my balance as my father’s words hit me from afar. He killed my mother because she was expecting another child. What the fuck? “Listen, Giovanni. She was pregnant with another man’s child. Your mother was a whore.” Enzo stiffens his gun, finger pressing down on the trigger. One bump of his arm and my father’s brains would be blown. “Anyway. If this is my end, then you will hear everything. She made every man around me think I was weak. She was taking my last name,
making a name for herself and you, while tearing my own name down. After her death, I made you into a man you never would have been if she’d treated you like a child your whole life. “You have become smart. I was wondering how much longer I had till you figured it out. When you went to Carlo’s wedding, I assumed you would become suspicious after meeting Kirill. I wanted him to marry Nina so all our families are connected. The Stepanov men are the ones who killed your mother.” My father lets out a laugh before continuing. “Well, again, I killed her, but they did—make sense?” As I sit before my failed excuse of a father, I take my gun out and place a bullet in the center of his forehead. I take in a deep breath and close my eyes once I hear men rushing from the door. They all stand over his body, checking for a pulse like goddamn idiots. Enzo steps in front of them. “Capo dei capi.” As I stand above my father’s dead body, I am taking everything. Capo dei capi. The Godfather. I step over my father’s body, walking into the house I grew up in. As much as he hated my mother, pictures of her still hang on the walls. He probably only kept them there to make it seem normal. In the kitchen, I pull out drawers, trying to find a lighter. Once I find one, I grab all the alcohol in the cabinet and hand it to the men trailing behind me. “Boss, are you sure?” Enzo asks, taking the lid off the bottle. “Grab the pictures off the wall.” He does as I say and carries them to the car as I douse the floors with my father’s favorite drink: vodka. His men—well, my men—are looking at me like I have lost my mind, and I don’t appreciate it. “If I were you, I’d leave the house.” My lips press into a line as I bite down on the inside of my cheek. They rush out, acting scared out of their minds, as if they didn’t see this shit coming. I bring the bottle to my lips and gulp down what feels like four shots. From the kitchen, I can see the crawlspace I sat in while I watched men murder my mother. I fight back the tears and crash the glass on the floor where she took her last breath.
“I did it,” I mumble. The hardest part of my life was letting go of someone too early. She was taken from me. Someone who gave me the best memories became a memory herself. I reach into my pocket, pulling out a lighter. The flame blows in the warm wind flowing into the house from the open patio doors. I look back at my father’s body as rage overflows my senses. I drop the lighter on the puddles of liquor. The small flame blasts into a vast one, bigger than I intended, but it works out. The flames catch onto the curtains, the couch, covering everything that used to be my home as I walk outside, burning the entire place to the fucking ground. OceanofPDF.com
I 22 NINA t’s been nearly a week since I last saw Giovanni. He left the night he gave me the birthday gift. He got me some really good paint. It’s a small gesture, but that makes it so much better. It’s the small things in life that make the biggest impact. Ever since Giovanni left, everyone has been on edge. Even Papa. For some reason, they trust him with watching our family. I know what Giovanni is capable of, but I have never seen it. I’ve only heard stories. People in my family talk about him like he lives more than one life; like he’s God. I hear a door open, and a couple of men walk out of Papa’s office. Whenever people walk into that room, it’s business. Only business. The only time I am allowed in there is when Papa asks me for something. Didn’t stop me from going in there to get his phones. Ana and Carlo walk out with my father, and their laughter doesn’t fade. Marco walks toward the front of the house to leave. This is the first time in a while I’ve seen multiple people walk from those doors laughing. Was Ana telling them about the phones I was looking for? My breath halts when Papa places his hand on my back. I have no idea what he would do if he found out I went through his things. And if Ana did tell him, I will have to deal with her later. “My love.” Papa walks over to Mama in the kitchen. “We have made arrangements for the party tonight.”
I slouch over on the countertop. “Again? Another party.” I roll my eyes. “You will like this one, Nina,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me. “Do you remember how your mother and I celebrated our fifteen-year anniversary?” My eyes lift. That was one of the best nights. I was only eleven at the time, but my parents held a ball that night. They invited so many people, and it was one of the most normal experiences I’ve had in this family. I say “normal” because there wasn’t a death. Well, there was—but it was fake. It’s a long story. Mama believes that when people fall in love, it should be because of personality, not looks. She decided that holding a masquerade ball would be the best way to celebrate their love. To give others the same feeling of first love that they had. Believe it or not, my parents met at a cheap party with costumes. When they first approached one another, it was because they had the same costume. Their faces never showed, but they talked for hours on end that night. I used to fall asleep to Mama telling me this story. It’s not the movies or the books I read that make me believe in true love; it’s my parents’ story. I take a long blink, hoping my papa will tell me what I think he will. “I remember,” I say, trying to contain my excitement. “Well, we are going to do it again.” He cups my mama’s face, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’d do anything to celebrate you.” “Oh!” she nearly shouts, her voice echoing on the hard surfaces. “To celebrate us,” she corrects. “Sure.” He laughs. I haven’t seen him laugh like this in ages. It’s refreshing to see them like this—in love again. As time goes on, I can’t help but think they’re pulling apart. Not that anything would happen of it; they would never be able to get a divorce. My sister jumps up and down, stepping away from Carlo, pulling down on my arm. “Balenca put your dress and mask on your bed. What time are we meeting there, Papa?” Balenca is a nice lady who hardly comes by anymore since Mama came back. She does most of the shopping for us now, but I don’t see her as much as I would like to. “I spoke with Marco, and he said that we can use Condinella.”
“That’s like . . . a fancy place though. How will we set everything up? There would be so much to decorate,” I chime in. “I have that covered already. Why don’t you girls go get ready?” He looks down at his watch to check the time. “I assume three hours will be plenty for you two.” I nod too many times to count. I am beyond excited for this. After all the gatherings this family has had, we need a nice one. The limo pulls up on the circular drive to the Condinella. The building is normally used for charity events, so this will be interesting. Ana and my mama sit across from me. They have been talking for the entire ride, but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, I was focusing on what to make of tonight. “Remember. No one knows who you are,” Mama says as she winks at me, tapping on my mask. My cheeks lift in a gentle smile. The door opens. They go out first as I down my glass of champagne. My face scrunches at the taste—it’s too rich. “Nina.” The gentleman says my name as his hand extends to mine. I grab onto his as he helps me out of the car. My dress is the definition of a ball gown. It’s black with lacing in the shape of a V going down my chest. The sleeves are thin but travel down my arm. “Don’t get murdered tonight,” he says, letting out a laugh as I shake my head. I have never met the man before, but he has quite the sense of humor. My black heels dig into the cobblestone cracks as I try to catch up to my sister and Mama. I look up at the sky, the stars hardly visible due to the bright lights surrounding the building, and let out a deep breath, my eagerness getting the better of me. There are two sets of stairs with a fountain separating each of them. My leg falls through the slit in my dress as I ascend the stairs. My mask is gold with red gems framing the eyes. I pull it onto my face and tie the back in a bow.
There are so many people here, and I don’t have the slightest clue as to who any of them are. That’s what makes this fun. My dress waves with the stride of my walk as I head through the grand doors. A woman hands me an envelope that is black with a silver tie wrapped around it. At first glance, it’s overwhelming. Hanging lights fall from the ceiling, at least a hundred of them. My eyes wander the room, searching for Ana and Mama, but I have no idea where they went. There are so many colors, mainly coming from the dresses. Each man is in a black tuxedo, making them all look the same. When I was younger, I remember walking up to the dessert table and eating chocolate cookies, but times have changed. I walk over to the bar and order a Moscow Mule. I never order this, but I don’t want the taste of alcohol, just the effects of it, and this is the perfect drink for that. I rest one leg on the bar stool as a man with dark hair walks toward me. “You look beautiful,” he says with an accent. I have a feeling accents are the only way I will be able to get a sense of who each of these people are. The bartender places the glass in front of me. I take a gulp. “How could you know?” I say as I smirk. “Your lipstick. Beautiful women wear red.” “And what if I wasn’t wearing any?” “You’d still be beautiful.” I narrow my eyes at him, my lashes hitting the mask. “You’re cocky.” “What’s your name?” he asks. I shake my head slowly. “You’re missing the point of this,” I say, but I am interrupted by the sound of my papa’s voice on the speaker. He clears his throat as everyone directs their attention to him. “Thank you all for coming.” His eyes scan the room, searching for his wife. “We have not done this in years. It is a privilege to have you all here today. The card you received at the door holds the role you will have tonight. Your identity must stay hidden, otherwise this will be pointless.” Everyone laughs, myself included as I open my card. “There are roughly two hundred people here tonight, many of us family, and most of us bonded by time. Tonight is a celebration of my wife . . . whom I cannot find, but that’s what makes this a mystery, am I right?” Loud cheers fill the room, and glasses are lifted.
“We have two murderers on our hands. They have killed six people here; it is your duty to solve this murder. Just because we have six dead does not mean more cannot fall. Be wary, watch your back, learn who to trust.” My eyes fall as I realize there are more than two real murderers in this room right now. But I don’t want that to change my views on this night. My hand scratches the back of my neck when I read the words on my card. Murderer. “You can work together, but remember, you never know who you can trust. However, you may connect with your partner under the masks. You may meet the love of your life, just as I met mine. “To Miliana!” he shouts into the microphone as music overrides his voice. People begin to squirm around, rushing to figure out who committed the crime. I look in the envelope and see red sticky notes. I assume if I place one on someone, they are eliminated from the game, presumed dead. Excitement floods my veins. I take my drink off the bar top, glancing at the mystery man. “Partners?” His hand extends toward mine. I look down at it and shake my head. “Je ne suis pas si facile à faire confiance, homme rouge.” I wink, brushing past his arms as I hear a scoff fall from his lips. I rush in the opposite direction of everyone. The walls are tall with black wallpaper. Dimmed lights hang on the walls, making my role in the game easy. My fingers trail along the wall as I feel my breath pick up. Can the other murderer murder me? When I stop walking, I hear footsteps behind me halt. I quickly turn my head and see a woman following me. “Oh?” I say, holding a red note, ready to stick it on her. “No, it just started!” She laughs as she accepts the death. “Does anyone know you’re here?” I ask her with a mysterious tone in my voice. “No.” Her eyes widen as she sits on the floor, acting dead. “Okay, well, one person does, but I can’t tell you who, for obvious reasons.” “Fair enough,” I say, laughing as I turn away from her, continuing my path down the hallway.
At the end of the path, there is a single door. I open it, and I’m hit with a burst of wind. The outside is even more decorated than the inside. The air is cold on my legs as I make my way toward the center of the pathway. Large trees hang over me, lights covering every branch the tree has. There are small hills leading to the wooden dance floor where the DJ plays a mix of songs. I walk up to the floor and see a man lying in the middle of it. I look around me, my head turning faster than my eyes. People are dancing, talking, and sharing drinks while I am worried about the other murderer killing me. My eyes land on the door I walked out of five minutes ago. A man lurks in the shadows. I squint as if I will be able to make him out to be someone I know, but nothing comes to mind. It’s not Papa; he has grey hair. It’s not Carlo because his hair is shaved in a buzz cut. I become impatient with my own thoughts as I strut toward him. “Miss Red,” he says. “Oh, great.” I laugh. “It’s you.” “You look worried.” He steps toward me, and I step back. He may be somewhat familiar, but I don’t trust anyone. Miss Red. “I’m not,” I stutter. “Trust me.” He’s almost whispering. “What makes you think you can trust me?” I step toward him. Technically, I could kill him right now. No one is looking over here; it would be a clean kill. I could just place the note on him and rush back inside. “Because if you were the murderer, you would have killed me by now with all this small talk between us.” I laugh and shake my head. If I partner with him, he’ll see me kill people and then run from me. Or I could just toy with him and enjoy the company, then kill him. “Fine.” I reach my hand toward his. “Partners?” He grabs my hand and shakes it. “Partners.” I open the door behind him, and he holds it open, allowing me to walk in first. I don’t know what it is, but I am starting to get the feeling I can trust him. “Were you following me?” I ask.
“Of course.” His voice is strong. When we turn the corner, I see the girl I killed earlier sitting against the wall. “Don’t trust her,” she says, acting like she is choking on blood. My head snaps back toward the man, and he has a smile across his face. “I knew you could do it.” I smile up at him, shaking my head. I have no idea why the girl hasn’t left yet. I know one of the rules is that if you “die” then you have to stay put, but if I were her, I would just leave for the main room and dance my heart out. OceanofPDF.com
H 23 NINA e places a red note on the girl, killing her again. “Follow me.” He grabs onto my hand. I can’t help but laugh. That poor girl . . . The game just started. The feeling of being here with a man I don’t know just makes this night so much better. He opens a door, leading into a library of sorts. It’s small; it only has four shelves of books. I walk up to the books. They are all classics —the perfect kind. “You won’t kill me,” I say, like I’m the conceited one. I think it’s the alcohol that’s making me talk like this. “Don’t be so sure.” He steps behind me, holding a red note. A loud laugh falls from my lips as I dart toward the window, a desk the only thing separating me from my “death.” Chills run up and down my body, the feeling of euphoria controlling all my actions. I hardly know who this person is, but being able to laugh with a stranger makes me feel a sense of bliss. I can understand how my parents connected so well with their identities hidden. My eyes dart back over to the man. I don’t know what else to call him. “Miss Red,” he continues. “Shall we go murder the others?” I see him wink through the mask. His is the opposite of mine, dark and matte, covering his eyes and a part of his nose. His jaw sharpens as he presses down on his teeth. “We’re partners—remember that.” I strut toward him, my heels sounding on the hardwood floors. “If you betray me . . .” I stop on my empty threat. I wouldn’t do anything because it is only a game after all. “I wouldn’t dare.”
I grab onto his extended arm, and he lifts my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on top of my knuckles. He opens the door slowly, letting me walk through first. The man is a gentleman, I’ll give him that. I grab onto the sides of my dress, lifting it off the ground. I can feel the man behind me. He is tall and muscular, making me feel like he is my personal bodyguard. We reach the end of the hall, the great room in front of us as I rest my hand on the arch of the wall. His hands venture down to my hips, pulling me further to the side. His hands make my hips feel small. He presses his body into mine, my back firm against the front of him. His touch is felt everywhere, and instead of drawing a line for my boundaries, I just accept it. His head dips down to my ear, his breath slow. “Just act normal, and we will be fine,” he says as he pushes me forward, into the room. The lights have dimmed, making everyone look like it’s in shadow. There are three people lying on the floor—I assume he killed them before he found me. We have killed a total of four, but I don’t want the game to end yet. “How did you manage to do that in front of so many people?” I ask, my voice sounding hushed. “Sleight of hand.” He takes a glass from the table. It looks like the same stuff Giovanni drinks. My eyes fall when he enters my mind. He would have a lot of fun tonight, but God knows what he’s out doing. If I remember correctly, he went to visit his father and should be back in the next two days. Do I want him to come back? I finally feel like I have gained back my control. I no longer have him peering over my shoulder everyday no matter what I am doing. I mean, I could be drinking a cup of juice and he would taste it first to make sure it’s not poisoned. Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still. I am his pet. And he never fails to make me feel like one. And yet somehow, he has made me want him through all this. My head bolts up, looking at a crowd running past us, nearly pushing me out of the way. “This way!” one shouts. “No, the trails lead down here!” another one adds.
I look up at the man and laugh. “You’re good.” He brought us into the main room for a reason. To make it look like we were here the entire time. “But now we go in that direction?” I point to the hall on the opposite side of the main room. He nods slowly, placing the glass back down on the table. I walk over to the hall, trying not to bring attention to myself. The hallway looks the same, but there are so many doors here compared to the other. My heels dig into the dark carpet. I look behind me, and my eyes widen. He’s gone. Why didn’t he follow me? I swallow as my breath picks up. Why am I suddenly nervous? I look at the table I was standing by only seconds ago, and he is nowhere. “Fuck,” I say under my breath. I turn back, and my head falls into a rock-hard chest. I stumble back, holding onto the wall, trying to steady myself as the man laughs. It’s not the man I was with earlier; this one has a red shirt under his tux. “Nina.” “Wha—?” I say, trying to figure out who this person is. He slowly takes his mask off. It’s Marco. His dark eyes pierce through mine. How did he know who I was? “Marco, hi. How did you know it was me?” “You’re working with the wrong person,” he says with nearly no emotion in his voice, completely ignoring my question. “What do you mean?” “The man you were with is one of the killers.” He laughs, and I do too. He doesn’t know that I am one of them. Or he is just playing his cards right. “How do you know that?” I’m trying to sound as curious as possible. “I just do.” He puts his mask back on and then straightens his tie. I’m kind of upset he took the mask off. The whole point of this is to remain a mystery. I look down at his hands, silver rings wrapped around his fingers. What is stopping me from killing him in this moment? Nothing. “We never finished our game of Scrabble.” I step toward him, closing the small gap between us. “Ah, no we didn’t.”
“Well, that’s a good thing . . . I suppose.” I laugh. “Because I always win.” I reach for a red note and place it softly on his chest, right above his heart. “You’re not as innocent as people make you out to be.” He laughs as I push past him. What does that mean? I pick my dress up again and turn around the corner. I see a woman walk into one of the rooms, and I follow her. I open the door slowly, but then my body gets tugged back. I stumble as the person who pulled me back catches my fall. I look up and notice it’s the man I was with before. “Where the hell did you go?” I nearly shout at him. “I’m right here,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well, I killed another one.” “I saw.” “Yeah, let’s go.” I walk back into the room the woman walked into. There are two candles lit, hanging from the wall. The room is decorated as if I’ve jumped back many centuries. A large table fills the room. It looks like a conference table. The wood looks like it was stained the color of cherry, just like my papa’s office. “Where did she go?” I whisper. His head tilts toward another door in the corner of the room. I walk over to it, my hand resting on the knob. I turn it carefully, but I stop when I feel him beside me. The man makes me nervous, and I can’t figure out why. I turn toward him slowly, his head turned down to look at me. “You going to open the door or not?” His voice is deep and husky. I halt even more than I already did. Is it possible to be attracted to a man you know nothing about? I think it’s the way he carries himself—he knows what he’s doing. There is nothing stopping me from sharing a kiss with this stranger. There is nothing stopping me from sharing more, because we don’t know each other. In no way could this come back to me. My hand fixes his tie, his eyes still watching me. Does he want this too? Either the man is clueless about the vibe he gives off, or I am dumb for reading too much into it.
I straighten his collar. A couple of the buttons on his shirt are undone. The heat of his skin makes mine warm. My hands trail down his chest, pulling down his shirt. My eyes fall to the words tattooed into his skin. Little man. “Gio?” I had no idea he came back. When did he get back? Why didn’t he tell me it was him? “Donnina.” I shake my head. Was he toying with me this whole time? It’s not that I intended to fall in love with a stranger tonight, but I wanted to have a night full of anything but drama. The drama that comes with the man standing right in front of me. I wanted to mindlessly flirt with a random person. I just wanted this. This night. “Is this your sick way of watching over me?” I look at his hands. Every tattoo is familiar. I don’t know how I missed it. His choice in alcohol, his height—everything. How did I miss all the signs? His voice—I know his voice, but for some reason, I ignored it. Was it because I thought he was out of town? I’m beginning to regret the amount of alcohol I have had tonight. It’s making my mind feel as if it’s tied in a knot. “I wasn’t watching over you. I was just playing the game.” “No,” I say, stepping toward him. “You don’t play games, remember?” “You’re right, I don’t.” His head falls between his shoulders. “But I wanted to see you.” “Just leave me alone. Just walk out of this room and go murder people. That’s what you do best, isn’t it?” Anger suddenly fills my body. “I’m cocky, and you’re sassy. The mouth you have is getting real fucking cute, Donnina.” “Stop. Why do you keep pulling this crap on me? I was finally having a good night, Gio. A night where you weren’t here to ruin it for me.” He steps toward me, his fingers trailing along my chin. “Is that what you think? That I ruin your nights?” His thumb presses down on my lips. “You seemed to be enjoying my company, no?” “No,” I lie.
Truth is, I did. I enjoyed him being by my side more than I would like to admit. “Liar.” His hand grabs the back of my neck, pulling my lips close to his. He turns my mind into mush. When I am away from him, I’m able to remember everything I don’t like about him. Every reason I should stay away from him escapes my memory when I’m with him. Is it possible to share one moment with a man I am attracted to and have it mean nothing afterward? Even if I do, I know I will never be able to escape him. You will be mine; I’ll make sure of it. Just one moment. No harm, no foul. “If you don’t care about my virtue, then prove it,” I say, his lips nearly touching mine. He doesn’t need to know anything about my virtue—that’s what makes this even better. I will not beg him anymore. I am done with whatever this is. He smiles, his tongue running along his teeth. My body can’t deny how much I crave him. My legs feel weak whenever he enters the room. Every muscle in my body warms at a slight touch from him. His lips crash into mine, his hands digging into the back of my neck. His aggressive touch sends chills through my body. His lips are soft, but his kisses beg for more. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing my body against his. I open my mouth more, his tongue grazing mine, fighting for control. A low grumble escapes his throat, only making my legs feel weaker. My hands run through his hair, pulling on the ends. I am kissing Giovanni right now. Oh, shit. If I keep going, I can’t go back. Do I want to go back? Before I can give it any more thought, he picks me up, my legs wrapped around him as he carries me to the table. I sit up as his lips find my neck. I lean to the side, allowing more of him. As he pulls me closer to him, I feel every inch of him pressing through his pants. “Fuck,” he says as I slowly rub my hand against him. He lifts my dress up, his hands grabbing my thighs tightly. His lips find mine again, and he bites down on my bottom lip.
He pushes my panties to the side, and his finger pushes inside me. My eyes are forced shut at the feel of his finger curling inside me. I moan as he pushes another in me. I have craved his touch for so long I can’t contain myself anymore. My head is spinning out of control as he stands before me, his lips against mine, fingers inside me, and his free hand grabbing my hips tightly. The warmth of his hands makes me ache. I want more. I want more of him. My legs tighten around him, pushing him closer into me. He unzips the back of my dress, pulling it down my torso. One hand brushes against my nipple, and the other pushes back inside me. My head falls back at the feeling of his fingers inside me, all the heat in my body gathering in my core. “Gio,” I stutter. He steps back. “Just give me a moment.” His finger trails the edge of his jaw. He shakes his head slowly. “What?” I ask nervously. “You’re art, Nina. I could look at you for hours.” His words only making me limp, I pull him back to me by his belt. His head lowers between my thighs. I run my fingers through his hair. His rough hands feel like spikes against my soft skin. My breathing turns unreliable as his teeth dig into my thigh. I fall onto the table as his tongue brushes over my clit, making my back arch. A deep murmur falls from his chest. I tremble at the touch of his tongue. Deep, overwhelming desire fills every thought I had previously. “Oh God,” I moan as his hand cups my mouth. My fingers dig into his arm. What are we doing right now? Is this happening? His tongue roams over my clit, running in circles. “Don’t stop.” My legs begin to shake, my body falling limp as he looks up at me, licking his lips. My legs begin to shake as a tremor goes through my body. I undo his belt, but he takes over quickly, buckling it back. “You drive me fucking crazy.” His voice falls out raspy. “But not until you’re mine.” I look down at him and halt for a moment, losing track of my breath. “What?” His hand travels beneath my back, lifting me up. As if I can’t dress myself, he fixes my dress, zipping it back up.
What is happening? Does he not expect sex? A wave of nervousness comes over me as I stare at his chest. That was the first time a man made me orgasm. I’ve been with other men before, but it was always simple, nothing like this. What other men have done cannot be compared to what Giovanni just did, and he’s just ending it there? “No other man will have you, Donnina.” My eyes wander through his, searching for an answer. He straightens his tie, tucking his shirt back into his pants. “What does that mean?” I ask, worried. Will he kill someone because of me? I don’t want death on my hands, and he knows that. Oh my God, what did we just do? I wanted it, but was I just caught up in the moment? Caught up in the pure agony that he never fails to put me through? “It means we still have a game to finish.” He leans over, pulling the sides of my dress down. He fixes my mask, his hands cupping my face. All the questions I have leave my mind the moment his lips kiss the center of my forehead. OceanofPDF.com
S 24 GIOVANNI he was mine. She is mine now, no denying it anymore. I grab onto her hand as I open the door, walking down to the main room. I don’t give a fuck about this game anymore; I have shit to do. I turn back to look at her, her eyes searching high and low around her. Every touch of my skin on hers makes her skin red. I thought I was gentle with her, but I guess not. I smile at her, but she just looks down. She has always been nervous around me, but there are times when she takes control over me. Fighting me. I like it. I don’t want to be bored. Not a damn thing with her is boring. “It’s them!” A group of people push past us as I laugh. I knew this game wouldn’t last much longer, thank God. I got what I came here for: Nina. Now I just need to talk to her father. I need to tell him about everything that has changed over the past week; about everything I’ve found out. Loud cheers fill the room as Rolando walks onto the stage, grabbing the microphone. “Well done!” He raises a glass. “You two, come up here.” I pull Nina in front of me, my hands grabbing her waist, helping her onto the stage. I don’t give a fuck if anyone notices my signs of affection toward her. I want the whole world to know that she is mine. “Take the masks off.” I look down at Nina as she unties her mask, giggles falling from her lips. I take mine off, only looking at her. “Would you look at that!” Rolando shouts. “You two went on a spree.”
I nod, placing a hand on his back. I can’t even remember how many people we put notes on, but I am going to assume it was a lot because I walked over a lot of people lying on the floor. “Thank you, everyone! My wife and I are thrilled to have held a great night such as this one. May we do it again next year!” OceanofPDF.com
NINA We take two separate cars back home, but everyone meets up at my parents’ house. They congratulate me for doing so well at the game, but I don’t even remember much of it. It was a blast, but I still can’t believe Gio had me believing he was a stranger the entire time. Mama, Ana, and I walk into the house, all of us taking our coats off and throwing them on the counter. “How come you didn’t find either of us?” Ana asks with a smile from ear to ear. “You’re just that good.” I laugh. I look over at Mama as she spins around to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “We really do need to do this every year. So much fun.” She chugs the bottle down, almost spitting it out laughing. “Are you drunk?” Ana asks. “Well, of course.” I throw my head back laughing as I hear the front door open, then the sound of many footsteps approaching the kitchen. As I peer around the corner a little more, I see the expression on Gio’s face. I don’t know what changed, but something seems off. I know that he doesn’t always show the most emotion, but it’s like there is nothing going on inside his head. Carlo, Gio, Max, and Papa lower their voices as they gather in a small circle. I don’t think he saw me. If he did, he would have given me a warning with his looks. But I can’t help eavesdropping. Things in this family go from good to bad so quickly. “Stop listening,” Mama says to me, pulling me away from the corner. “I have to though. I think I heard my name.” She holds onto my arm, dragging me back into the kitchen. “You did, my love.” I stand frozen and confused. “What?” Mama doesn’t answer my question as Max, Carlo, and Giovanni walk into the room.
“Giovanni!” “Hey, Mama,” he says, walking into her embrace. She kisses his cheek before he can pull away. Not being around Giovanni has made me realize a lot. It’s different seeing him in this light. His beard has grown out a little—it’s not a full beard, only scruff. But he finds a way to pull it off. He is wearing a watch that I have never seen him wear before. “Would you guys like some dinner? I am going to make spaghetti.” Mama is either cooking, drinking, or flying to Paris. For some reason, that makes a giggle fall from my lips. “You have something to say, Nina?” Mama asks with light in her voice. Giovanni must not have seen me, because the moment he hears my name, something in his stance shifts. He looks at me with a crooked smile. It doesn’t look forced. The curl of his lips forms so softly it looks genuine. “Nina needs to leave.” His words sting. What changed since the drive here? He was all over me half an hour ago, and now he is cold to me. I had a week full of stable conversations before tonight, and now I am back to Gio’s hot-and-cold emotions. “What?” I ask. “I think he is right, Nina,” my brother says while stepping toward me. “You and Ana can go and talk in another room—upstairs maybe?” I feel like a freaking child. What is happening? Why do I need to leave the room? “No,” I say in a monotone. “You guys can go talk somewhere else; I’ll just watch TV.” I grab the remote, switching the news on for some reason. I never watch the news, and I’ve chosen the worst time to do it. “Big news in Sicily over the weekend,” the reporter says. “Hundreds of men are working to get the fire under control, but it has been spreading for quite some time. The firefighters believe it started at the Genovese household.” I turn around and see everyone watching the news with me. Gio doesn’t look shocked at all. Is this why he had to leave? Did he burn down his own house? “The remains of the owner were found in the ashes. We will continue to update once we know more.”
My mouth gapes open. Giovanni’s father died, and he looks unbothered. Or numb. “Gio, I’m so sorry.” I walk over to him, but he shrugs me off like a pest. “Nina, why don’t we go upstairs now?” Mama says, grabbing onto my arm as I follow her lead. OceanofPDF.com
N 25 GIOVANNI ina walks away with her mother as I pour Carlo and Max a couple of drinks. I have a feeling alcohol is something we are going to need. I don’t want to be like my father. He used to drink so much it was like there was a constant IV bag of alcohol attached to him every second of the day, just pumping poison into his system. “That was you?” Max asks, grabbing a drink I just filled. “Yeah.” “You are Godfather?” Carlo asks. “Yeah.” “Marry Nina,” Max says. I cough on the sip I just took. I clear my throat and bring the glass to my lips again. I never thought Max would be so willing to have me as Nina’s husband. “I plan to.” Max and Carlo share glances, leaving me out of the loop I desperately want to be a part of. I could have married her before, but that isn’t how I wanted to play my cards. I want to give my wife the best future, and I wouldn’t be able to do that if I were the underboss. I also don’t think Rolando would have just handed me his daughter if I wasn’t Capo dei capi. I could have what I want. After years of her taunting me, she could be mine. “Giovanni, you need to listen, and listen hard,” Carlo says. “I am. Get on with it.”
“Rolando decided to go ahead with the marriage between Nina and Kirill.” I clench my teeth together in frustration. I’m already aware of this, but I thought he and I were on the same terms. I thought he understood that she could not marry him, fuck the circumstances. But I guess some things prove to be hard to get through his thick skull. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, acting like this is new information. “It happened while you were gone, and Nina doesn’t even know yet. I didn’t know how to tell her.” “Well, no shit.” The moment I leave, shit goes south. That’s how it has always been, but I didn’t think Rolando would start working toward it. It was always just an idea floating in the air, never the real deal. “Anyway. You haven’t exactly been . . . discreet about your feelings for her. People are starting to notice—that’s why Rolando wants Nina to marry. You know, before word goes around and no man will take her.” I roll my eyes. He talks to me like I fucked her. I may want to, but I respect her enough not to take advantage of her. I take my time to get the things that I want. “Your papa can’t marry her off to Kirill. Why the fuck is this guy even still relevant?” I say to Max. They stare are me for a minute, their eyes questioning what I have against Kirill. I contemplate if I should tell them what I know, or if I should just shut my mouth. They already know I killed my father. Carlo knows the reason behind that, but Max doesn’t. It’s not every day news goes around that someone got murdered by their son, and I don’t want the Romanos looking down on me. Do I regret it? Fuck no. Would I do it again given the chance? Fuck yeah. Before I think about it any further, I take another sip, feeling the burn in my throat and my heart. “The Stepanovs are the ones behind the murder of my mother.” Max’s attention spikes. If I had to guess, family is just as important to him as it is to me. Max and I may not have a lot in common, but we both
care deeply for Nina and the meaning of family. Blood is thicker than water, my ass. “Sangue per sangue,” Max says with his fists white and shoulders tense. “Sangue per sangue,” I repeat. Blood for blood. Once again, I am sitting in the godforsaken office. This time it will be different. I don’t know what will happen, but if Rolando doesn’t understand, I have his son on my side, if that means anything to him. Rolando sits at his desk with his hands placed on the surface. Both Max and Carlo sit next to me on the leather sofa, our legs almost touching because of how small the couch is. I have a feeling Rolando knows where this conversation is about to go because we never sit this close together. It feels good to have these men on my side. I have been doing this alone for quite some time. The door clicks as a man in sweatpants and a hoodie walks in. “Kirill.” Rolando stands up to greet him, but he just leans against the bookshelf, leaving Rolando’s hand in the air. If the man knows what’s good for him, he won’t disrespect his future father-in-law like that when he has put his differences aside for the marriage to work. “What is all this about?” Kirill asks. My brow furrows as I question him. He walks toward me, trying to act intimidating. I blink long and hard out of boredom. “We are here to discuss your marriage with my daughter,” Rolando says, trying to get between whatever Kirill has against me in this moment. “What about it?” “It’s not happening,” I say as Rolando’s neck stiffens. He is the only one who is not caught up in what is happening, so I don’t blame him for his frustration. “You want to fuck my wife? Is that what this is about?” Kirill nearly spits, walking toward me with his fists white.