Chapter Thirteen

Nevio was hung over on our flight back home to Las Vegas. Whatever he’d done at night had knocked him out. I doubted he’d done hard drugs. He wasn’t the type. What had gotten him so high was probably a potent mix of too much alcohol and violence.

Fabiano had pretty much dragged him into the private jet and was glaring daggers at him all through the flight.

Despite my worry for Nevio, I was glad his senses were clouded. My conversation with Amo yesterday and the kiss we’d shared had thrown me off completely.

I didn’t understand what I was feeling, only that it was so strong it made me feel claustrophobic in the sense that my heart seemed too big for my ribcage whenever I thought about Amo. I’d overheard Carlotta and Aurora talk about falling in love. It had never piqued my interest, had seemed something that wouldn’t happen to me, and definitely something I didn’t need. My life had been full. Filled with love and purpose.

Now Amo had somehow found the tiny hole in my existence I hadn’t even known existed, and I knew he’d leave a void once he left. A void that I’d never be able to overlook the same way I had before. I could try to fill it with new purpose of course but I had a feeling it wouldn’t fill the void.

I was already thinking about the moment he’d leave. It wasn’t a matter of if, it was a matter of when. Though maybe me leaving New York was the goodbye we hadn’t dared to voice.

My stomach dropped, my chest feeling hollow, empty.

When we arrived back home, Nevio disappeared in bed and I recounted my failed dance recital to my family.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said gently and kissed my cheek. “You look really sad. I didn’t know you wanted this so badly.”

Dad exchanged a look with Nino and Savio I understood too well. He was glad it hadn’t worked out so he was spared forbidding me from going there, because that’s what he would have done. I knew Dad. He considered his power in Las Vegas as endless and thus thought he needed to keep us all here to guarantee optimal protection.

I shrugged, not wanting to lie to Mom but glad that she thought my sadness was because of ballet. Her voice made me realize that I was sad and wistful, almost as if I were already mourning what Amo and I had had.

Eventually I excused myself from my family and roamed the premises. The bunnies had moved into their enclosure a few days ago and were taking well to it. I dropped off a bit of carrot greens and herbs before I went to my ballet studio to greet Bear and Momo. When I was gone, which usually never happened, Dad wanted them to stay there the entire time. Nino had taken them on walks and fed them, since his calm seemed to work well with them. I would have preferred Kiara, but Nino didn’t want her near Bear. Still I was glad when they both rushed my way with their tails wagging.

Ballet filled my head with calm but my animals filled it with purpose.

I rubbed their soft heads and sank down on the floor with a sigh. For the first time, I felt a little lost in my studio surrounded by my furbabies.

My thoughts were a whirlwind that kindled the embers of my always present anxiety.

I needed to talk to someone. I couldn’t carry this secret alone anymore. Usually, I always confided in Nevio. My secrets had always been his to carry, like his had been mine. But this was a secret I couldn’t confide to him. I had so many people around myself that I trusted with my life, so many people who loved me and who’d do anything for me, and yet it felt like this secret was only mine to carry. I couldn’t confide in my family because my secret felt like betrayal. But I’d never betray them, not for anything or anyone in the world, and could love ever be betrayal? I wasn’t going against them. But part of me wanted to follow my heart and that was leading me in a direction I’d never considered possible, away from them. For once I was truly alone.

I was glad for the dark but it didn’t help with my rising anxiety.

My breathing got labored. Despite the lack of sound and bright light around me, this felt like one of my sensory overload attacks. Bear began growling and shifted. He always got particularly protective when I was like this.

“Shhh, down,” Nino said.

Bear let out another growl but then he became quiet. I reached out, feeling for his back and stroking his fur.

“Greta?” Nino asked into the dark.

I peered toward the doorway where his voice had come from.

My throat felt too tight for words.

“I’ll turn the lights on. Close your eyes. I’ll tell you when they’re dimmed down.”

I closed my eyes.

“It’s okay.”

I opened my eyes. A dim glow filled the studio. Bear was curled up beside me with Momo snuggled up against his butt. His eyes were fixed on Nino but he didn’t get up or growl again.

“Do you need help?”

I peered up at Nino, trying to consider my reply, but my pounding heart and rushing pulse were making any sane thought impossible.

“I’ll get your parents.”

“No,” I croaked.

Nino regarded me with quiet scrutiny. “Nevio?”

I shook my head, panicking.

Nino nodded, as if he understood my reasoning when he couldn’t possibly grasp the whole dimension of my dilemma. He walked over to me slowly and regarded me for a while before he sank down on my other side.

I breathed low and deep until I began to feel more in control, then I began talking in a bare whisper, “When is love wrong?”

Nino’s brows snapped together and his scrutiny intensified. “You’re referring to romantic love?”

I nodded.

Nino waited almost a minute before he finally spoke. I was glad he took his time to weigh his answer. Maybe he could tell how important it was for me. “Wrong and right are concepts designed by humankind over the centuries to allow peaceful co-existence. It’s not something that’s inherent in nature or in our DNA. If you refer to the moral compass that guides most societies, there are certain forms of love that are regarded as wrong. Though again love in itself isn’t wrong but how you act upon it.”

I frowned. That wasn’t helping.

Nino must have seen my confusion because he continued, “Unrequited love can be detrimental to a person’s mental and even physical health, so I’d say it’s a logically wrong love. Too much love can be a problem, like most extremes.”

“Love and logic don’t go together, do they?”

“Logic told me it was useful to love my wife so I did eventually.”

I laughed because I doubted that was how it happened. Kiara told a different story. Maybe Nino just preferred his more restrained take on things.

“Do you really think there can be too much of love?”

“If it makes you forget everything else that matters, then yes.”

That made sense. I could imagine losing myself in my feelings for Amo, at least for a little while, but I didn’t want to forget everything else that mattered to me.

“What if the person you love is already promised to someone else?”

“Infidelity is considered wrong by many. I think it’s often a sign that the original bond is damaged. And some people have open relationships, then it can’t really be called infidelity.”

“What if the person who’s promised doesn’t love the person they’re promised to but the other person.”

Nino narrowed his eyes in thought. My words didn’t even make sense to me. “It seems unwise to marry a person you don’t want instead of the person you want, but economic, political or familial reasons might be the driving force, especially in our world.”

I didn’t even know if Amo loved me. I didn’t even know if I loved him. “How do I know if I’m in love?”

Nino’s body became tauter. “I’m not the best person to ask.”

“I think you’re the best person I could ask.”

Nino gave a nod. “It’s not easy to put into words, even for me. I’m not an expert in this field.”

“You love Kiara, despite your emotional struggles.”

“I do.”

“How did you know?”

“Before Kiara there was calm and then suddenly there was chaos. It was frustrating at first but then I learned to enjoy it.”

I bit my lip. Amo quieted the chaos in my head. Maybe this, too, was a sign.

“Greta,” Nino said quietly, waiting until my gaze returned to his face. “I assume you’re talking about yourself?”

I didn’t say anything. Maybe I had already said too much.

Nino’s expression was analytical, not judgmental in any way. “Knowing your past interactions with men outside of our family, there are only very few options. It could be someone you met at your dance recital, which is unlikely given Fabiano’s presence and the limited time frame. Or it could be the only other male you spent time with. Amo Vitiello.”

I tried not to react to hearing his name. I was terrified of admitting to it.

“I think I fell in love,” I whispered.

Nino shook his head. “Greta—”

I touched my heart. “No,” I said firmly. “I can feel that it’s true. I fell in love, and it felt wondrous.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

I froze and reached up, feeling wetness on my cheeks. “I’m crying because my heart’s already broken before it ever really got the chance to experience love.”

Nino regarded me quietly. “You said nothing happened between you and Amo.”

“It didn’t. We talked. But I felt a connection I’ve never felt before…”

Nino’s expression was impossible to read.

“You won’t tell anyone, right?”

If he told Dad or Nevio, everything would fall apart.

“I don’t see how telling anyone would serve any other purpose than bring down war on us. I don’t think now’s the right time to pursue a conflict with the Famiglia.”

“How can my feelings for someone be the reason for war?”

“I’m sure you can see how that would be the result.”

I lowered my gaze. If I allowed my feelings for Amo to take center stage, this might lead to a cancellation of his wedding and that would cause a major uproar in the Famiglia. It would weaken them. Dad and Nevio would assume the worst. They wouldn’t believe me if I said Amo hadn’t manipulated my feelings. I couldn’t see them accepting a bond with Amo. They would start a war. So many would die.

“Even thinking about him feels like betrayal.”

Nino released a long breath. “Your brother would definitely see it as betrayal if you left Las Vegas for Amo. And I don’t have to tell you that your father won’t ever allow it, for nothing in the world.”

I nodded, because I knew it.

“Can you imagine leaving Las Vegas to live with Amo in New York, as a Capo’s wife?”

I tried to see myself in New York, away from my family, as the woman everyone in the Famiglia would look up to. Anxiety tightened my belly. “No,” I croaked.

That night I went over to Nevio’s bedroom. He gave me a distracted smile as he put on his leather wristbands, combat boots and leather biker pants, getting ready for his night out with Massimo and Alessio.

He put two curved knives into his holster at his back, then two daggers into the holsters at his calves.

I watched him quietly as I sat cross-legged on his bed. In the beginning when I’d realized why the three of them went out at night, I’d asked him to stop but eventually I’d realized he needed this like I needed ballet, as a way to deal with his demons.

“Would you ever leave our family?”

Nevio stopped and gave me an incredulous look. “For nothing in this world.”

“Not even if you fell in love?”

Nevio came toward me, his eyes burning with intensity. “If I ever thought there was someone who’d make me consider leaving our family and the Camorra, I’d kill her before she turned me into a traitor of everything that matters.”

“Don’t say something like that. You don’t mean it.”

He got down on his knees before me and his expression terrified me. “I’m fucking serious, Greta. Our family is everything. Nothing deserves to take its prime spot.”

I sighed. “You always think in extremes.”

“Maybe, but some things are just black and white. No reason to sugarcoat it.”

Nevio’s expression turned playful. “You need to stop reading all this shit about emotions. Sometimes it’s better not to have and understand them.”

I rolled my eyes and got up. “Be careful tonight.”

I always said these parting words even if they were unnecessary. My heart felt heavy as I returned to my bedroom. Nevio’s words had only confirmed what Nino had said, what I’d known all along.

I turned on my phone when the airplane landed in Las Vegas. Several messages popped up on my screen. I ignored the ones from Cressida and Dad asking where I was.

I had several missed calls and two messages from Marcella.

You stupid idiot, they’ll kill you. Turn on your brain for once.

Amo, please don’t be stupid.

Then there was a message from Maximus.

I should have come with you. You need back up. Fuck, they’re going to kill you.

If I’d brought Maximus with me that would have sent the wrong message. It was better this way, me going alone. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was suicidal, but I’d made up my mind and nothing would stop me now. Definitely not Dad, because he had no clue what I was doing.

The last week since my conversation with Dad my resolve had only grown, but I’d hidden it from him. The only people who knew of my plan were Maximus and Marcella. Both had tried to talk me out of it until I’d boarded the airplane.

When I left the airport, I stepped foot on Las Vegas ground not as future Capo of the Famiglia. I was here privately. I’d tried to come up with a plan to make this go as smoothly as possible. There really was no handbook on how to approach a family of murderous sociopaths.

I called Fabiano. He picked up after the third ring.

“I’m at the airport in Las Vegas. Can you pick me up?”

Silence.

“I wasn’t informed that you and Luca would be coming over for a meeting.”

“I’m here unannounced and I’m alone.”

“This is the only time I’ll speak as your uncle and not as part of the Camorra, and you better listen well. Turn around and fly back to New York.”

“You don’t know why I’m here. I could be asking to join the Camorra.”

Fabiano chuckled dryly. “Ask for a bullet, that’s more likely to happen.”

“Are you going to pick me up or do I have to hail a fucking taxi to take me to Falcone mansion?”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes. You better be gone by then.”

A black Mercedes S-class pulled up at the curb where I waited. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see who was inside. I opened the back door and slipped in.

Fabiano turned briefly and let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You inherited your father’s lack of control in certain matters.”

I ignored his comment and regarded the man in the passenger seat who didn’t turn around but watched me with cold eyes through the back mirror. Nino Falcone.

“Nino.”

His lips barely moved and his expression was emotionless. The locks clicked into place. “Amo.”

I leaned back. “Are you not going to ask me why I’m here?”

Nino motioned at Fabiano who pulled the car away from the airport.

I nodded. “Am I going to get a special Camorra treatment for breaching your territory without permission?”

He didn’t say anything.

“The mansion? Or where does Remo want him?” Fabiano asked.

“Take him to the Sugar Trap.”

Fabiano’s expression told me he hadn’t expected that. We drove in silence for the rest of the way. I was surprisingly calm. If this was what it took to get Greta, then I’d gladly brave torture, even if Nino’s talents were feared even among mobsters.

We arrived in the street before the notorious Camorra establishment. Strip club upstairs, torture chamber downstairs.

“You won’t give us trouble, I assume?” Nino asked.

“I’ll behave.”

Nino nodded once and got out then he opened the door for me.

“My brother’s dream has always been to break your father. I’ve never shared his aspirations.”

“I can assure you whatever your plans are for me, it won’t break my father. Marcella’s kidnapping didn’t break us either.”

Nino didn’t say anything. He motioned at the door of the Sugar Trap. Fabiano was close behind us. The inside of the strip club was deserted. I followed Nino’s lead and settled on a barstool. This was a curious meeting, and I wasn’t yet sure where it was going.

“I talked to Greta. I assume she is the reason why you’re here.”

Fabiano’s expression flickered with concern, then he narrowed his eyes at me. Again he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how stupid I was. Hadn’t he entered a death fight with Remo once because of his feelings for a woman?

“She is,” I admitted. I hadn’t come here to beat around the bush. I wanted Greta and was willing to shout it from the rooftops. I looked around. “I assume you haven’t told your brother yet.”

Fabiano took a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label from the shelf behind the bar and poured three drinks. Without a word, he set them down in front of us then downed his own. “This is probably the last peaceful drink I’ll get to enjoy in a while.”

Nino took his glass. “I’m of the impression that war might still be prevented.”

“War is unnecessary.”

Nino narrowed his eyes. “You’re looking for a Capo’s wife, for someone to present to your soldiers, someone who’ll represent your family as your mother and sister do. You’re looking for someone who seeks the public. Greta isn’t like that. Greta can’t. Greta prefers to stay in the background, away from attention. You’re looking for someone who blooms in the light but Greta seeks the shadows. Even if my brother would ever let her go, which he won’t, are you certain the Famiglia would accept a Capo’s wife that wouldn’t represent the Famiglia?”

I didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to know that by coming here I’d most likely forfeited my position as future Capo of the Famiglia. My mind was reeling with different scenarios of how I could run away with Greta or even kidnap her from her family. That I had chosen to talk to them was only for Greta’s sake.

“Your father’s protection gets you out of here because we value our cooperation with the Famiglia. Don’t do something that’ll bring war down on us.”

I shook my head. “I’m here because of Greta. I’m not leaving without having talked to her.”

“You stupid fucker, are you so tired of your life that you don’t know when to draw the line?” Fabiano muttered, slamming the glass down.

I only half-listened because someone had just risen from a booth in the corner and my attention was solely on her.