Chapter Seven

I was drawing in my room, playing around with different variations of an evening dress. The scratching of my pencil on paper always calmed me. Our kiss had left me restless.

I wanted more. I also wanted to pay Santino back for being a dick, which was at odds with my first want, or maybe not.

I crumpled the paper. I couldn’t focus on drawing.

“Anna!”

I groaned.

“Anna!” Steps akin to a charging rhino, thundered upstairs and toward my door.

“Anna!”

I sighed.

The door burst open and Leonas appeared in the doorway.

“What?”

He smirked and leaned against the doorframe, waving a letter in front of him.

I narrowed my eyes. “What is that?”

He shrugged with a triumphant smile.

I stared. If I gave him a stronger reaction, he’d only annoy me more. After the argument with Santino yesterday, I wasn’t in the mood for his games.

“It’s from France.”

I perked up.

“A fashion institute.”

I jumped off my chair and rushed toward Leonas. “Give it to me!”

His smile widened and he lifted the letter over his head while he held me at arm’s length with his other hand.

I struggled to get the letter but Leonas was taller and stronger than me. Gone were the days I could kick his scrawny ass.

“Leonas!” I hissed.

“I want something in turn.”

I stopped fighting with him and crossed my arms. “Spill.”

“I want to attend Clifford’s eighteenth birthday bash.”

“Dad forbade you from any parties. You don’t know when it’s enough.”

“That’s why he won’t find out. You’ll sneak me in.”

“Santino and Clifford will recognize you, you moron. Then it’s only a matter of time before Dad knows too.”

“Ah ah,” Leonas drawled, wagging his finger before my face. I had the nauseating urge to bite it off. “We both know Sonny and Cliffy eat out of your hands, sis.”

I leaned against the doorframe across from him. “All right.”

“And Ricardo and RJ.”

“No way!” I growled and lunged at him once more, trying to finally wrangle the letter from his hand. I punched his stomach, which made him choke-laugh. He pushed me to the ground and sat on my stomach.

“Okay, okay. I’ll bring you three potheads to the party, but I won’t go down with you if you get caught. And I don’t want you to follow me like lost puppies.”

“Newsflash, sis, we can entertain ourselves without your help.”

As if I didn’t know it. Those three were the bane of my existence.

“Get off me.”

Leonas jumped to his feet and dropped the letter on my belly. I sat up and ripped it open with shaking hands then quickly read it, then another time to make sure I understood it right. My French was good, very good, but I was too nervous to trust my brain.

“Tell me what it says,” I pressed out, holding the letter out to Leonas with a trembling hand.

Leonas cocked an eyebrow and took the letter, then groaned. “French, really?”

“Read it!”

He scanned the letter, surprise spreading on his face.

My heart was racing.

“It says that you’re accepted in their undergraduate program for fashion design.”

I howled in excitement and stumbled to my feet, hugging Leonas. He gave me a worried look, as if he thought I was losing my mind.

“You want to study fashion in Paris?”

“Want? It’s been my dream for years!”

I hadn’t told anyone about my application, not even Luisa or Sofia. I’d felt insecure for even daring to dream about studying fashion in Paris. And now that my dream could actually become reality, a new fear set in, what if I wasn’t allowed to go?

Leonas handed me the letter back. “Dad won’t ever agree, Anna. He won’t let you move to another city, much less another country.”

I swallowed. Leonas was right. He voiced my fears. Getting accepted into the institute was only the first battle. The harder one was yet to come: convincing Dad to let me go. It was why I hadn’t told him or Mom about my plans to apply for the program. With me already being accepted into the program my chances of convincing Mom and Dad had grown exponentially because now they would be taking something away from me. I could play the guilt card if necessary.

“I can be convincing.”

“Even you can’t be that convincing. For years, you weren’t even allowed to attend school because our parents wanted to make sure you’re protected, and you expect Dad to say yes to this?”

“The war with the Camorra has been dormant for a while. Nothing major has happened since Serafina was kidnapped.”

“Tell Dad, not me.” His voice made it clear he didn’t think it would work.

I turned on my heel and headed downstairs, but not toward Dad’s office—he probably wasn’t even home—but toward Mom’s office. She mostly worked at home so she could spend more time with us, especially Bea who still needed her more than Leonas and I. If I wanted a chance to convince Dad, I needed to convince Mom first.

I knocked and waited, my fingers leaving imprints on the letter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had sweaty hands.

“Come in,” Mom called.

I poked my head in with a sheepish smile. “Do you have time for a talk?”

Mom sat behind her desk, a modern white piece of furniture that was supported by only one diagonal leg. It was a design masterpiece. Mom and I had picked it together. She smiled warmly. Mom always made time for me, no matter how stressed she was. I’d miss having her close.

I strode over to her and held out the letter to her. She took it with a small frown and then scanned it. Slowly she lowered it to the desk then looked up at me with a shocked expression. “You applied to a fashion institute in Paris?”

“It’s not just any fashion institute, Mom. It’s one of the best schools for fashion design in the world.”

“But you applied to the School of the Arts Institute?”

“Yes.” It was the best place to study fashion design in Chicago. It wasn’t Paris or New York.

Mom nodded then glanced at the letter again as if she still couldn’t believe it. “Paris.” She shook her head. “Anna.”

“Mom,” I said pleadingly, grabbing her hand. “You know how much I love drawing, how much I love being creative, how much I want to design fashion, and Paris is the place to do it.” I motioned at the dress I’d designed and was currently wearing. A green ombre effect dress with inconspicuous pockets on the skirt where I could stash my phone or whatever else I needed on hand.

“I know, but it’s far away and this isn’t just a short summer program, this is a three-year undergraduate program.”

“It’s not like I’m forced to finish. I could start the program and if you and Dad think it’s time for me to return to Chicago, then I come back. But think of it this way, time abroad, especially in France, will impress all the stuck-up friends of the Clarks.”

Mom gave me a knowing smile. “Try that line on your dad later, maybe it’ll work.”

I sank down before Mom and put my head in her lap like I’d done when I was small. “I know what my duties are. I’ll marry Clifford so the Outfit and our family get even stronger. I’ll play the politician’s wife. But until then I want to be me, at least for a little while. Clifford won’t care. He’s not like our men. I could live my dream for a few years before I’d become everything the Outfit needs me to be.”

Mom stroked my hair and sighed. “I want you to be yourself, not just for a few years but forever. Maybe you can be that around Clifford.”

“He can’t ever know all of our world’s secrets, Mom, so I’ll always have to keep part of myself hidden.”

“You’re very wise Anna. You always were.”

I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of Mom’s fingers massaging my scalp.

“Paris is beautiful,” Mom whispered. Dad and she had celebrated their last anniversary there.

“I wish I could see it with my own eyes.”

Mom’s hands stilled. “Your protection will always be our top priority.”

“That’s why I never asked to apply to the New York Fashion Institute. But Paris is far from our world’s conflicts. I won’t tell people who I am. I’ll pretend I’m a normal student. I’ll blend in. That’s the best protection.”

“You have my blessing, sweetheart. We’ll figure out your protection.” She laughed. “But I don’t know how we’ll convince your father.”

Mom went in first. If anyone could convince Dad then it was her.

I paced in the hallway. I was tempted to eavesdrop, but resisted the urge. The voices behind the door were too quiet anyway. Neither Dad nor Mom often raised their voices.

After what felt like forever, the door opened and Mom motioned for me to get in. Her expression told me the fight wasn’t over yet.

Dad stood in front of the window, his arms behind his back. I gave him a hopeful smile.

He released a sigh. “You know how dangerous our world is.”

“But Paris isn’t anyone’s territory. It’s far away, yes, but that’s an advantage.”

Dad gave a tight smile. “That’s one way to see it. But our conflicts don’t end at any borders.”

“The Camorra won’t send anyone to France to kidnap me. And the Famiglia has never been in the business of kidnapping women.”

Dad’s face had tightened like it always did when the darkest hour of the Outfit was mentioned. I doubted he’d ever get over it.

“Don’t you think I’ll travel the world once I’m married to Clifford? His family has vacation homes in Europe.”

“The Clark’s bodyguards will guard you then.”

“I can take Santino to Paris. He’s protected me for years. He can keep me safe in Paris.”

Dad’s brows puckered. To my surprise, it was Mom who looked more worried because of my suggestion. I definitely needed to be careful around her. If she found out about me lusting after Santino, she’d not only forbid me from going to Paris but she’d also kill him herself.

“Three years is a long time, Anna.”

“I’ll come to Chicago for the holidays and everyone’s birthdays and important social events, and you could come visit me as well.”

“We’re talking about a ten-hour flight, not a short car ride,” Dad said.

I walked toward him, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. Dad was cold as ice but this look always got him, eventually.

“I don’t even have to finish, but I’d love to give it a try, for a little while at least. You know I never get in trouble Dad. You can trust me. I’ll be good. Just let me live a little.”

Dad touched my cheek. “I’ll protect you at any cost.”

“I know, but I’ll be safe.”

“Even if I let you attend the program for a while, you can’t begin this fall. We agreed to have your engagement party right after your birthday. The program will already have started then.”

I bit my lip. My engagement party… I kept forgetting about it. Only three months. “I could come over from Paris for it.”

Dad shook his head. “Many social gatherings will require your presence around the time of your engagement. You can start in the Spring.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, trying not to be too disappointed. Dad even considering Paris at all was already a major win. “But I was accepted for the Fall semester. I don’t know if they let me start later.”

“I’ll handle it. We have a few contacts in France. I’m sure there’s something we can do. Three months is too little time to find you a safe apartment in Paris anyway. It requires plenty of planning so spring is more feasible.”

“So I can go, after your birthday?” I asked, trying to put Dad on the spot. He raised a blond brow, seeing right through me.

“I’ll talk to Santino. If he thinks he can keep you safe in Paris, I might consider letting you go in February until next summer. After that, I’ll have to decide again.”

I stood on my tiptoes and threw my arms around Dad’s neck then kissed his cheek, which was as usually impeccably shaved. I’d never seen Dad with stubble. “Thank you so much, Dad!”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

I grinned and darted out. The moment I was in the hallway, determination filled me. Santino would never tell Dad that he could protect me in Paris. Not because he doubted his abilities, but because he didn’t want to go to Paris with me. He’d kept his distance since our kiss a few days ago.

I had to talk to him before he talked to Dad. I headed toward the guardhouse and Santino crossed my way, already on his way to talk to Dad.

I grabbed his arm. He looked down at my fingers with disdain. “What are you doing?”

“You have to tell my father that you’ll protect me in Paris and that you’re confident you can protect me.”

His eyes reflected his confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I explained the situation to him in a rush. We didn’t have any time to waste.

“So let me get this straight,” he drawled. “You want me to go to France and protect you there, 24/7. For three fucking years.”

“It’s probably only going to be until the summer. Six months tops. Dad won’t allow me to stay abroad for longer.”

Santino gave me a look that suggested I was full of shit. “France. And babysitting you 24/7. That’s a big fat no.”

“You have to say yes.”

“No.”

He shook off my grip and strode away. I hurried after him and caught him in the hallway to Dad’s office. “Do you want Dad to find out about Mrs. Alfera and the kiss we just shared?”

Santino’s eyes flashed with disbelief, then fury. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“I wouldn’t have to blackmail you if you’d care about my feelings.”

“I protect your body, not your feelings.”

“Maybe you should do both.”

His jaw flexed. He was majorly pissed. “So let me get this straight, you’ll snitch on me if I don’t tell your daddy that I’ll gladly keep your ass safe in Paris?”

“And that you’re very confident you’ll be able to keep my safe.”

If looks could kill, I’d be ashes. I’d managed to piss Santino off before, but I don’t think I’d ever seen him look this angry.

Santino stalked toward Dad’s office without another word and knocked before I could say more. I quickly hurried away so Dad wouldn’t see me. Now I had to hope that Santino would do as I asked. Any sane person would lie to save their life. But Santino sometimes acted like a lunatic.