Chapter Twelve

Fabiano had been surprised when I’d asked him to take me to dinner with him but then he’d actually seemed relieved. Nevio had been furious at first but then an excited gleam had entered his eyes and I’d known he’d use his night off to do what he always did at night. Maybe I should have stayed with him to prevent the worst, but today I was being irrevocably selfish.

“You are tense,” I told Fabiano when we arrived in front of the townhouse where the Vitiellos lived.

Fabiano gave me a tight smile.

“Nothing for you to worry about. You are perfectly safe.”

“I know.”

He nodded once then we got out and walked up the stairs to the front door. Fabiano looked up to a camera above our heads and his expression was even tenser than before. I wondered why he’d agreed to have dinner with the Vitiellos if this bothered him so much.

I didn’t get the chance to ask him because the door swung open and Aria Vitiello stood before us with a bright smile. “Fabiano, Greta, welcome.”

I gave her a tiny smile. Behind her Luca Vitiello came into view. His expression was hostile when it settled on Fabiano and only slightly softened when he gazed down on me.

I swallowed but my anxiety turned to a nervous flutter in my belly when I stepped into the entrance hall where Amo was waiting beside his sister Marcella and his younger brother Valerio, who shared his mother’s blond hair and reminded me remarkably of Fabiano. Even if I hadn’t known Fabiano and Aria were siblings, I would have suspected it by their similar appearances.

I hovered a few steps from them, making sure I smiled at them all, and didn’t only stare at Amo. My body longed to be closer to him but I held back. Valerio gave me a brief grin. He was already much taller than me though he was three years younger than me. Marcella gave me a restrained smile. My gaze caught on the diamond ear clip that hid her missing earlobe. I usually wasn’t interested in gossip but the story of her kidnapping and her marriage to a biker had stirred up waves high enough to crash even through my bubble of obliviousness.

Amo’s eyes caught mine as we headed into the dining room, and my belly did another flip. I wanted to be alone with him.

I dragged my eyes away before someone noticed. Fabiano was busy glaring at Luca, and Aria was busy looking concerned so we were safe for now but I didn’t want to be too daring.

Soon the cook came in with trays loaded with food. Lamb. Roasted potatoes with pancetta. Creamy spinach with parmesan.

She took my plate to serve me first as the only female guest but I quickly shook my head. “Nothing for me. Thank you.”

Everyone stared at me and my pulse sped up, a soft whooshing filling my ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to come along. I forgot to tell them,” Fabiano said with a grimace.

“Tell us what?” Aria asked, worry flitting across her face.

“I’m vegan so I don’t eat animal products.”

“Her brother and father slaughter people as a favorite pastime, and she doesn’t like to hurt animals,” Valerio exclaimed, starting to laugh as if it was the greatest joke of all time.

“That’s not how we treat guests,” Amo snarled, sending his brother a scowl.

Marcella’s attentive gaze moved lazily between Amo and me, reminding me of a cat about to pounce on her prey.

His mother blinked then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Greta. I’m sure our cook can whip up something for you really quick.”

The cook looked a little panicky. Many people found the idea of cooking without animal products daunting and it showed in their creations. Only Kiara had mastered the art of cooking for me. “No cheese? Cream? Eggs? Butter?”

I shook my head, feeling pity for the poor woman. She wasn’t dealing well with being put on the spot like that.

“How about I show you to the kitchen so you can check our cupboards and fridge for something you can eat?” Amo suggested.

“That would be very nice of you,” I said, trying not to sound too eager at the prospect of being alone with Amo.

Amo rose and so did I.

“Not going to happen,” Fabiano said, rising to his feet as well.

“Our son has been brought up to respect women and is capable of controlling himself, unlike the Falcone trio,” Luca said. Aria cleared her throat, her eyes widening in warning.

“Last week’s newspaper showed him respecting women all over the front page,” Fabiano said with a very unsettling smile. I could tell things were quickly going downhill but I wasn’t sure how to stop it. I wasn’t sure what Fabiano was referring to either.

“I didn’t know you kept up with our current affairs.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

Marcella huffed and shoved back her chair, rising to her feet. With her high heels, she towered over me. “I’ll go with Greta.”

Fabiano looked between her and Aria then at me. I gave him a firm smile and he slowly sank back down but he wasn’t happy about it.

“Come on,” Marcella said.

Amo sent Fabiano a very nasty look. “I’ll go into the backyard for a bit. I need to cool down.”

I stifled a smile as Marcella led me out of the dining room, down a corridor toward the back and into a big luxury kitchen.

“So what about olives, ciabatta and truffle oil to dip it in?” she asked, then her lips thinned. “I thought you wanted to cool off.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Amo who came in through a backdoor. He motioned at a maid rolling out dough and she wiped her hands on an apron and dashed out into the backyard. I swallowed as my eyes took him in. I hadn’t dared doing so before.

He wore dark blue cargo pants and a simple gray T-shirt that matched his eyes and hugged his muscles in a very appealing way.

“I guess you’re hungry for something else than olives,” Marcella said, and my gaze darted to her, my skin flushing with heat.

Amo went over to her. “Can you give us a moment and make sure nobody bothers us?”

Marcella gave Amo an exasperated look. “Amo, you want me to keep watch while you’re alone with Greta Falcone?”

People often accentuated my name in that way, as if the other person didn’t know who I was.

“Marci,” he said in a low voice and a look passed between them that I wasn’t privy on.

“This is going to end badly. Very badly.”

“Tell Maddox hi from me when you return to your apartment tonight.”

Marci shook her head and turned to me with a searching look. “I assume you don’t mind if I leave?”

“I don’t,” I whispered.

She shook her head again and walked out, her high heels clicking too loud on the stone.

I didn’t move, suddenly overwhelmed.

Amo crossed the distance between us and cupped my cheeks, his lips coming down on mine without warning again. I tensed, surprised by his vehemence, heat and touch. Amo pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone. “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

He chuckled and released a deep breath.

“You can kiss me now,” I said.

Amo’s eyes locked on my lips and then he lowered his head again, letting his mouth slide very gently over mine. Electricity seemed to zag through my lips, down my chest into my belly and straight to my sex. My eyes fluttered shut against the too bright light in the kitchen. I wanted my sole focus on Amo, his mouth, his taste and smell. On how perfect his strong big hands felt against my cheeks.

Slowly Amo pulled away again but he stayed close, our breaths mingling. I searched his face for a sign that what we were doing here wasn’t wrong.

“What we’re doing here is wrong, isn’t it?” All my life I’d tried to be kind to others, but I knew my moral compass wasn’t as tuned in as it should be.

Amo smiled darkly. “Do not ask a man like me about right or wrong, Greta. The only thing I can tell you is that nothing has ever felt as right as kissing you.”

I nodded, my breath hitching, because I felt the same way. How could something that felt so right be wrong?

“I swear, Amo, if you deflower another mafia girl, I’m going to throw you off the next bridge.”

We both jumped at Marcella’s angry voice. She had spoken through the door.

Amo grimaced.

“Is that why you have to marry Cressida?”

I tried to imagine Amo being this close with someone else. I wasn’t the jealous type but felt a little nauseous thinking of having to share him.

“Do not go there,” Amo murmured.

I tilted my head curiously. “I know you’re not mine. You’re Cressida’s.”

“I’m not hers, won’t ever be. In the few moments we’ve shared I’ve already been more yours than I’ve ever been anyone else’s.”

“But you’ve been with girls on a physical level that we haven’t shared.”

Amo laughed. It was raw and bitter. “And none of it mattered.”

“What did Fabiano mean with his newspaper comment?”

I could tell that Amo didn’t want to talk about it, which piqued my curiosity even more. “I publicly touched a woman in one of our clubs, and the newspaper published it.” He continued when he looked at my face. “I did it because I thought it would make Cressida mad enough to cancel the wedding.”

It must have been a very sexual touch considering it made front page. My belly tightened uncomfortably.

“Don’t try to find the photo. I don’t want you to feel bad because of me.”

“But you want Cressida to feel bad?”

“I’m a very bad man, Greta. Do not mistake me for anything else.”

“I know what you are. I’ve grown up among bad men.”

“And yet you turned out like this.”

My brows snapped together. So many people in my life thought I was good but there was dark inside of me too. “Some might not see me in such a positive light considering I’m turning you into a cheater.”

“You’re not turning me into anything. First of all, I can’t cheat on someone I’m not in a relationship with. Cressida and I are nothing. And I’ve been with other women before you, so if anything, one of them first turned me into a cheater.”

“So I’m one of many.”

Amo looked as if I’d said something outrageous when I’d really just based my words on the facts that he’d given me. His fingers against my cheeks tightened. “Don’t you ever dare thinking this. You are everything.”

“How can I be everything if you still need other women?”

“I don’t.”

I searched his eyes. “I can’t ask you to stop being with other women. It’s not my place. Because I can’t give you what you’d give up.”

“You can ask anything of me, Greta, and I’d give it to you.”

Ask him not to marry Cressida.

To what avail?

I could not take her place. I belonged in Las Vegas. I didn’t want to be a Capo’s wife. I wanted to live in the shadows not as the main attraction of the mafia world.

The door swung open and Amo dropped his hand and took a step back. It was Marcella and her eyes narrowed. “We need to return.” Her voice was hard.

I nodded, because she was right. It was a good thing that she’d burst in when she had because I had been on the verge of asking something of Amo I shouldn’t.

She walked past me and grabbed a jar with olives, a ciabatta and the oil. Together we returned to the dining room.

When I sank down beside Fabiano, he leaned over. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t dare look at Amo again all evening. I was at a complete loss at what to do.

I couldn’t think straight after the kisses Greta and I had shared. She’d left without looking at me again. It was the worst torture, but I knew why she did it. Greta was too fucking good. She didn’t want me to do something stupid.

After dinner, Dad stalked into his office, pissed. I went after him but fingers clamped down on my arm. I stopped and glared down at my sister.

“Sleep over it.”

“Sleep over what?”

“Do you want war? Is it worth it?”

I leaned down, bringing our faces closer together. “Was Maddox worth it?”

Marcella’s expression became pained. “Amo, this is different.”

I shook her grip off. “Will you have my back?”

She shoved my arm. “You know that. Of course. I’m just worried, you idiot.”

I turned and headed toward Dad’s office. I knocked.

“Yes,” Dad growled.

I went inside. Dad was hunched over a drink in his leather armchair. He was in a bad mood, but I knew there would never be a good moment to tell him what I had to say. Better not to ruin one of his few good moods.

Dad frowned over the glass at me. “What now?”

“I need to discuss the wedding with you again.”

The look Dad sent me was unmistakable. He had absolutely no intention to talk about this again. I didn’t give a fuck. He needed to hear this. He thought I was just getting cold feet but this was more.

“I have found a girl I want to marry,” I said.

Slowly his eyes dragged up from his drink again. If possible, his expression was even more pissed than before. “Why do I get the feeling I won’t like what you’re going to say?”

“It’s a good choice,” I said. “She’s from an important family.” The understatement of the fucking year.

Dad narrowed his eyes. “Cressida is a good choice, the choice we all decided on.”

“Fuck, Dad, would you listen for one fucking second? Cressida was a mistake, is still a mistake and will be the worst mistake in my life if I marry her.”

Dad didn’t say anything but his expression didn’t soften in the slightest. I got why he wasn’t impressed with me. I’d done a lot of shitty things over the last five to eight years.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to figure out how to get through to his thick skull.

“Humor me, who is it?”

“Greta.”

Dad stared, his mouth setting in a thin line. “As in Greta Falcone?”

“Yes. I want her.”

Dad shook his head, chuckling. Then he sobered when I didn’t fall in. “You’re being serious.”

“I’m deadly serious. I want Greta.”

Dad shoved to his feet and carefully put the glass down on the small side table as if he worried that he could throw it at me if he kept it in his hand.

He came closer, his eyes incredulous but also angrier than I’d seen them in a long time. “Amo, have you lost your fucking mind?”

I stared back at him, unblinking, as serious as I’d ever been about anything in my life.

“Let’s disregard the fact that you’re going to marry Cressida in a few weeks, shall we? You could have any woman in the Famiglia. Every family would gladly give their daughter to you as a wife, but Remo Falcone’s daughter that’s not something I can make happen. Nobody can unless they’re ripping her from his cold, dead hands, and even then you’d still have to kill the remaining Falcone bunch.”

I knew all that. I knew Remo Falcone would ram his blade into my heart before I’d finished asking for her hand. Not to mention Greta’s crazy twin. “I’m willing to risk it. I want Greta. It’s her or no one.”

Dad looked at me as if I’d lost my fucking mind, then his expression hardened and he grabbed my arm. “Don’t tell me you touched her? Or heaven forbid took her virginity? I swear, Amo, I’m going to beat the shit out of you for the first time in your fucking life if that’s the case. Cressida, that was something we got under control, but Greta? Hell would look pretty cozy in comparison to our life if you fucked up like this.”

I shook him off, fury bursting in my chest. “I wouldn’t dishonor Greta like that,” I growled. “She’s honorable.”

Dad searched my face and grimaced. “Fuck it. You’re serious about her.”

“I am, Dad. I want Greta.”

He shook his head again. “Remo Falcone won’t ever allow it. He’d rather chop himself into pieces and send us the bloody mess than give us his daughter. I don’t have leverage against him to force him and to be honest I doubt he’d let anyone force him into giving away his daughter. He’d go on a fucking rampage as he should.”

“What if Greta wanted to marry me?”

Doubt flashed across Dad’s face. “She does?”

I wasn’t a 100% sure. Greta and I hadn’t really discussed our feelings, nor had we talked about a future together because Cressida had always been in the way. “I haven’t asked her. But she and I…” I shook my head. It was difficult to put into words what went on between us. I didn’t even understand it myself.

“You hardly know the girl. How can you be sure about anything?”

“How can you ever really be sure about something? But Dad, what would you have done if you had met Mom after being engaged to someone else? Would you have given her up or would you have done everything in your power to make her yours?”

Dad shook his head. “This is lunacy, Amo, and nothing you say will make me think otherwise. Even if you and Greta had some kind of connection, then there’s still the major problem of Cressida. A Capo needs to honor his men’s families and the traditions. If we cancel the wedding now, this would cause ripples none of us could control. The only way this could happen was if you waive your position as future Capo.”

My stomach tightened. I’d once before offered up my position, to Marcella, but deep down I’d known she wouldn’t accept. This was different. I’d always wanted to become Capo. It was in my blood, and had until recently been my only desire. Things had changed since I’d first met Greta. But would I really give up my future for her?

Part of me shouted yes, without hesitation, another part wanted to have both and simply beat down anyone who disagreed.

Dad grabbed my shoulder. “This is not something I can do for you, Amo. And you shouldn’t consider giving up being Capo for a girl you hardly know and can’t have unless you start a war with the Camorra. My wedding with your mother was supposed to guarantee peace but a possible wedding to Greta would cause a bloody war.”

I had considered what Dad said. Still the thought of giving up Greta without fighting felt like a coward move. Dad was weighing the options as Capo, as a bystander of what Greta and I had.

“Love doesn’t happen in a blink, Amo. What you experience with Greta is lust, cold feet and the thrill of the forbidden. Don’t ruin your future because you mistake it for something else.”

Dad knew the love Mom and he shared. He didn’t know much about romantic love apart from that. Did I love Greta? I didn’t know. It was something I’d never felt before. I knew it was more than I’d ever had. It was something new entirely. It was so impossibly strong I could hardly believe it could become more. Was it love? Possibly. Was I falling in love? Definitely.

I knew love at first sight was a hoax. And yet, my feelings for Greta defied logic.

Dad jabbed his forefinger against my chest where my Famiglia tattoo was. His eyes bored into mine. “Since you seem incapable of making good choices at the moment, I’ll make it easy for you. If you want to become Capo, you’ll marry Cressida. As your Capo, I’m telling you to stay away from Greta Falcone. If you touch her, kiss her, fuck her or God forbid ask Remo Falcone for her hand, you’re going against my direct order, and you’re going to waive your position as Capo and face punishment, possibly exile.”

I stared at my father incredulously.

“This is for your own good. I’m trying to save you, Amo. One day you’ll see it.”

I needed to talk to Cressida again. If she had the slightest interest in me beyond becoming a Capo’s wife, she had to see that this bond wasn’t going to make either of us happy. I found her in the gym that Gianna had opened up for women and girls in the Famiglia. Gianna wasn’t at the reception today. Instead, Maximus’ mother Cara, dressed in sport tights and a tank top, greeted me from behind the counter. When she wasn’t busy with their animal shelter, she could usually be found working here. She gave me a surprised smile. “Amo, if you’re looking for Gianna, she won’t be here until later today for her yoga course.” Cara nodded toward something behind the counter. “Isa is here though.”

I propped my elbows up on the sleek white surface and peered down. My cousin Isa sat on the ground. She wore headphones, a green cord overall dress and worn-out white Converse. In her hands she held a fat tome, probably some high-fantasy nonsense with dragons and incest. Her glasses sat on the tip of her freckled nose, dangerously close to falling off. Her chin was propped up on her palm and she didn’t notice me, too pre-occupied with her reading.

I moved back, leaving her to it. I didn’t have much time anyway. “I’m here for Cressida.”

Cara’s smile thinned. “She’s doing Zumba in room two.”

I nodded and headed to the training room. Through the glass door I could see Cressida and her friend Agostina trying to follow the dance moves the trainer showed the class. She lacked Greta’s grace, not just when it came to dancing. I knocked against the door, causing everyone to turn around. Cressida’s eyes widened then she exchanged a triumphant look with Agostina and stalked out of the room with her nose up.

I motioned her to follow me behind the counter and into the staff room. Cara didn’t stop me and Isa only briefly looked up, pushed her glasses back up only to wrinkle her nose when she spotted Cressida.

I closed the door behind Cressida and me.

“She won’t ever find a husband if she keeps dressing like a nerd. Why doesn’t she use contacts? Men don’t want girls with glasses.”

She looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Ask her if you want to know. But I doubt Isa’s existence revolves around finding a suitable husband so she probably doesn’t give a fuck if glasses are sexy or not.”

Cressida tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. I wondered how she could do sports with it not in a ponytail. But I supposed her appearance was more important than practicability.

“I’m all sweaty, Amo.”

I ignored her inconsequential comment. “I came here to talk to you about our wedding.”

“There’s still so much to discuss, I know. They still didn’t serve the right quality of tuna. Apparently the Japanese are buying the prime pieces before they ever enter the international market.”

I heard every word she was saying but she might as well have spoken Japanese.

“I think we should cancel the wedding.”

“I won’t postpone the date. I’m already twenty-three, Amo. Twenty-three. Agostina has been married for three years and look at me!”

Maybe she was misunderstanding me on purpose. “I meant cancel the wedding, not postpone. I don’t love you, Cressida, and I never will.”

Fuck, I’d even entertained thoughts of disposing of Cressida and making it look like an accident. She didn’t deserve this. I didn’t love her, didn’t even particularly like her but she wasn’t an overly horrible person. She was egotistic and power-hungry, but many people were, and I wasn’t in a position to judge anyone for their sins anyway.

She shrugged as if it were inconsequential. “Love’s not necessary for what we have.”

“There’s someone else,” I tried again.

Her eyes sharpened but then she shrugged again. “Keep it quiet. I don’t want a scandal on our hands.”

“Do you really want to live like this? Knowing there’s someone else I’m with? Knowing we’re only married for appearance’s sake?”

“We’re going to get married, Amo. This is it. I won’t ever agree to cancel this wedding, never. And neither would our families, or the Famiglia. We are bound by our traditions, even you. Fuck that girl, I don’t care as long as it’s me they call Mrs. Vitiello.”

I shook my head, unable to believe that I was really supposed to marry her. Right this moment, I couldn’t imagine a worse fate.