8.

M ATTEO

When I heard the tone of Ludo’s voice, I got curious, but when I grasped exactly what he was saying, I sat up in my chair and let my feet hit the floor with a loud thump. What had originally been a casual meeting between my brother and I, with both of us sprawled out comfortably with our feet on the desk, had just turned into a serious discussion that included our consigliere who was in charge of the casino and resort we owned in Las Vegas.

“Why are the Russians booking an entire floor in our hotel?” I asked Ludo and my brother. Sam, the man in charge of The Castello, the property we shared with the other three families in New York, looked just as shocked as I was at the news and shrugged.

“I’m not quite sure, but they were very insistent and offered to make it very worth my while to juggle the other guests who were booked for this weekend,” Ludo explained.

“None of us have received any word from them lately,” Luca said in confusion.

“I’d like to think this is just a bunch of guys going to Vegas for a bachelor party or something, but if that was the case, then why would they pick our casino?” I asked.

“I’m going to see if the other guys are in their office,” Sam said as he started for the door.

“Let’s shelve the Russian conversation until Sam gets back with the others. What’s the status of the next game?” I asked.

“Booked solid. All high rollers. Deposits paid in advance, and the usual dealers and servers are already arranged.”

“Good,” I told him with a satisfied smile. Ludo had been with us for ages and was a trusted member of our team, which was a good thing since we weren’t near Vegas and were only able to visit on occasion. “Did you save room for me?”

“Yes, sir. There’s a seat for you, but if you’d rather not attend, I do have a waiting list.”

“Do any of the Russians have a table reservation that night?” I asked curiously.

“Actually, now that you mention it, there are two names here that I think may be part of their organization,” Ludo said.

“That might explain why they’re in town, but not why they reserved an entire floor.”

“That’s gotta be costing them a small fortune,” Luca said as he pulled the calculator I kept at the edge of my desk closer to him. “Did you give them a discount?”

Ludo laughed softly before he said, “I made them think I did.”

“When are they supposed to start arriving?” I asked.

“Thursday afternoon.”

“I should be there,” I said.

At the same time, Luca said, “You should be there.”

“I agree,” Ludo chimed in. He’d been working for me and my brother for long enough that hearing us say the same thing at the same time barely affected him anymore. “I’d feel better if at least one of you was on site.”

“I’ll be there Wednesday evening,” I assured Ludo as I studied the calendar on my phone.

Once we finished the call with him, Luca and I took a few minutes to organize our schedules so that he could take care of a few appointments I’d have to miss at the end of the week.

Once we had that squared away, I leaned back in my chair and asked, “What do you think all that’s about?”

“I’ve got no clue. Maybe Rico or one of the other guys will have an idea.”

“Do we want to harvest some contacts and see if there’s something we might want from them?” I asked.

“Like what?” When I shrugged, Luca laughed and asked, “What do the Russians have that we might want a piece of?”

“Umm . . .” I bit my lip as I thought about it for a second and then burst out laughing. “I have no idea.”

◆◆◆

BELLA

I took a deep breath and wondered why I was so nervous. I was the one to call the meeting together, and it wasn’t as if I were a stranger to any of the women trickling into the room as they arrived at the clubhouse.

No, these were some of my closest friends - women I’d known my entire life. A few of them were closer to me than my own sister, and I considered all of them my family. We’d been through so much together - the awkward elementary school crushes, the acne and discomfort of puberty and middle school, the mean girl encounters and first loves of high school, and then the hard work it took to put together the motorcycle club that we were so proud of.

I would miss my family, of course, but I’d miss the women around this table just as much.

“What’s wrong?” Lark asked as she breezed into the room. I smiled when I saw she had a streak of flour on her cheek and was still wearing one of the aprons she kept in her kitchen. This one said, “Bitch, I am the secret ingredient!” and suited her perfectly.

Lark was the acting president of the Texas Queens MC, and I had been her vice president and right hand since the creation of our club. I helped her keep everything organized and running smoothly - a task I enjoyed more than I could ever explain.

Luckily, Rain Forrester, Lark’s cousin, was home permanently and had taken back her place at the helm as co-president, which would be very helpful if what I was planning came to fruition.

And it would, unless they managed to talk me out of it somehow.

As if she knew I was thinking about her, Rain breezed into the room and tossed her backpack onto the couch next to the door before she came over and took a seat at the table to my right. She frowned at me and asked, “What’s the big secret, and why is it so important that we had to all get together?”

I looked around to make sure everyone was here and saw the women I respected and loved all watching me expectantly. Janis’ frown was even more intense than Rain’s, which was pretty normal considering she was one of the grumpiest people I knew. Gracy Mason studied my face with narrowed eyes before she looked over at her sister, Cydney.

The only one of our core group who was missing was Zoey, but she came in wearing her police uniform, clearly moving quickly, and said, “I go on duty in an hour so we’ve gotta make this quick. What’s going on?”

As Zoey took her seat at the table, I took a deep breath and said, “I’d like to call the meeting to order.”

“Great. Order. Blah blah blah. What the fuck is going on, Bella?”

“I wasn’t sure how to do this because I knew that if I confided in just one of you, that would put you in the difficult position of keeping secrets from one another, and that’s not our way.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Lark asked. “Tell us what we need to do.”

“I’m not in trouble. I’ve been offered a new job, and I’ve decided to accept it.”

“Okay. Awesome. Congratulations!” Zoey said with a bark of laughter as she pushed her chair back and started to stand.

“It’s in New York.”

Zoey dropped back down into her chair with an audible ‘oomph’ and stared at me with wide eyes. “I take that back.”

Everyone else at the table was dead silent until Cydney said, “You’ve always wanted to travel.”

“She has,” Lark agreed.

“Walking through Central Park has always been on your bucket list, but I didn’t think you wanted to live there!”

I burst out laughing and said, “I’m not going to be living in Central Park, Zozo. I’ll be staying in a hotel until the house I’ll be living in is ready.”

“You already bought a house?” Gracy asked in shock.

“Do you remember the lady I worked with to help plan Elizabeth’s wedding? She offered me a job.”

“The lady married to the hot chef?” Rain asked.

I laughed as I nodded, and Janis said, “Now I have to hate her twice as much.”

“Why?”

“Well, she’s not only got the hot biker, but she’s taking you away too,” Janis answered. “I don’t like her at all.”

Zoey slapped her hand on the table and said, “Ladies! As much as this sucks for us, we’re missing the point here! This is Bella’s dream - to travel all over and see new places. We can’t shit on that just because we’re selfish.”

“Zozo is right,” Lark said with a firm nod. “Bella has always wanted to wander, and this is just the first step.”

“It’s not like New York is on another planet,” Cydney agreed. “Think of all the opportunities she’ll have to see some of the things on her bucket list that are in that area of the country. First, of course, is Central Park. She’ll be close to Maine, so she can get that lobster she wants, she can see the Liberty Bell, have Chicago style pizza - in Chicago, see the Great Lakes, and even take a selfie to send us from Niagara Falls.”

“Squid’s right. If Bella’s up in that corner of the country, she can take the time to knock a bunch of things off that list she’s been adding to since we were kids,” Gracy said.

“And you’ll be making all sorts of new contacts!” Zoey said cheerfully. “Maybe you’ll meet someone from the West Coast and find your next opportunity there so you can work on the things you want to do on that side of the country.”

“New York has people from all over the world,” Janis added. “Maybe she can even travel abroad, you know?”

“I will be traveling overseas occasionally with this new job,” I said as I choked back tears. I knew that my friends were sad about the fact that I’d be leaving, but it said so much about them that they were so quickly willing to look past how they were feeling and get excited for me.

As terrifying as the prospect of leaving the only home I’d ever known was, I knew that the people who made Rojo my safe place would always be here for me whenever I wanted or needed to come back.

I had done nothing but think of this opportunity between thoughts of Matteo, and I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. A new job with a generous salary, free accommodations, and a short contract was a perfect situation for a woman in my stage of life. If I hated it so far away from home, I’d only have to hold out for six months and then come back to my own house in my hometown where I’d be surrounded by all the familiar sights, sounds, and people.

But if I loved it, I would be one step closer to fulfilling a dream I’d had since childhood - exploring the world one location at a time.

And then thoughts of Matteo kicked in, and I wondered if his connection to Bernadette and the fact that I’d be close enough to really explore a relationship was a bonus of this job or if it might be a detriment to my new position. What if we stopped getting along for some reason? How hard would it be knowing that the one friend I had made in that state wasn’t a friend any longer?

I had spoken with Bernadette enough to know that she seemed like a fair woman, but Matteo’s connection to her could change that. Since he was, in essence, her stepson, I knew that her support would fall on his side if push came to shove.

On the other hand, what if this gave Matteo and myself the opportunity to get to know each other in a way that might never happen long-distance, and we ended up living my other dream - of a loving relationship, a happy home, and children of my own?

Either way, the employment contract was on my desk at home, freshly printed and waiting for my signature after it had been reviewed by my friend Petra, a lawyer here in town. And now that I had the support of my friends, I couldn’t wait to get home and sign it so I could scan it and send it on its way.

My life was changing in the most magical of ways, and I was not going to resist the pull.

However, I had one more person to talk to about my new situation, but I knew that he’d support me no matter what decision I made.

◆◆◆

“This looks so official,” I said with laughter as I walked into my brother’s kitchen.

Dylan’s home was a few doors down and across the street from mine, which made the short walk easy, but not really quick since I stopped to talk to a few of my cousins on the way. Since neither of us had left town to go to college, preferring to stay close by and attend the community college in Rojo since it had the classes we were interested in, living down the street from my brother was the farthest apart we’d ever been.

That was all about to change, and every time I considered that, I started to doubt my decision.

“I want it to be official because I need an unbiased opinion.”

I glanced over the cardboard boxes Dylan had overturned on the island in the middle of his kitchen - a long and wide expanse he’d insisted on during the creation of his home because he knew that cooking was his passion and he’d need the space.

“Is there something yummy under each of those?” I asked.

“Yes. I want a blind taste test, so I’ve covered the serving dishes on your side but left my end open to access the food.”

“Wouldn’t it have been easier for me to put a blindfold on?”

“The first impression of the food you have is with your sense of smell, the second is with your eyes, and the third and final one is what the food tastes like. If it’s unappealing visually, that’s going to affect your opinion of it, so I need you to be able to see what you’re eating.”

“Good call.”

“You should know all of this by now.”

“I should, but I think it’s kind of funny to have you explain things to me like we’re on a television show,” I admitted.

“Shut up and sit down,” Dylan ordered as he pulled out a stack of dessert plates and a handful of forks. “Oh! I almost forgot. I think these would pair best with coffee, so I made a pot.”

I settled onto the stool across the counter from where he’d been standing and watched Dylan bustle around his kitchen, doing all the things I enjoyed making fun of him for - using a damp cloth to wipe out the inside of the mug he’d chosen from the cabinet even though he knew it was clean, testing the temperature of the carafe with his hand on the side for a few seconds as if he were some sort of digital thermometer, and then carefully pouring my coffee until it was a little less than an inch from the rim of the mug before he slid it across the counter toward me.

“What? You’re not going to put the perfect amount of cream and sugar in there too?” I teased.

“I know it’s not your usual, but we’ll keep it black for this since it’s more of a palate cleanser than anything else.”

“You’re so technical,” I said with a grin as I picked up the mug for a sip. “What are we testing today?”

“Bread pudding. I’d like to put it on the dessert menu for the restaurant and maybe even for my catering, but I can’t decide which recipe I like better.”

“My guess, and this is speaking from experience, is that they’re all equally delicious and the differences in them will be so minute that I’ll have no idea which one is which.”

Dylan frowned at me and said, “There are subtle differences that can make or break a recipe.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

I knew that Dylan was in the zone right now and it wasn’t the best time to approach him with my news, so I let him serve me the five different versions of the recipe he was testing and enjoyed every bite as I gave him my honest feedback.

Finally, after quite a bit of discussion and more bites of each, I told him, “Recipe B tastes the best, but I’d suggest that you make two versions of it. One with raisins and nuts and another without. Or maybe you make the plain version and offer a raisin and pecan sauce for the top. I also think you should bake them in muffin tins like Recipe A instead of a pan because it’s a single serving that looks more appealing than a square.”

Dylan looked thoughtful for a few seconds and then his eyes widened, and he spun around to get back to work, leaving the food he’d already created sitting on the counter. I knew it wouldn’t go to waste since our neighborhood was filled with family who loved it when he randomly delivered goodies for them to enjoy, but I decided to move the boxes and get my fill even though I was already stuffed.

While Dylan worked, I scrolled through my social media and answered a few messages before I put my phone aside and watched him perform the cooking magic he was known for. Dylan looked an awful lot like our dad, Finn Conner, since he was our mother’s twin brother, but he also looked very much like our biological father who I had only seen in pictures. I knew that I was almost a perfect replica of our mother and my namesake, Bellamy, because Dad and my uncles had told me that time and time again.

Once Dylan had something put together on the stove, most likely a sauce that would just add to the delicious bread puddings, he turned and leaned against the counter to study me.

“What are you not telling me?”

“I’m not hiding anything from you, Dill, I just wanted to give you some time to work while the idea was fresh in your mind.”

“I’ve got it simmering now, so spill, Belly. What’s going on?”

“I got a job offer in New York City, and I’m going to accept it.”

Dylan just stared at me, unblinking, for so long that I started to get uncomfortable. He finally asked, “Does this have anything to do with that guy on the phone the other day?”

“He was not a deciding factor in the job, but he does live in New York and I’d really like to explore a relationship with him.”

Dylan was quiet again for a minute or two and then asked, “What are you not telling me, Bella?”

When I just shrugged, he glared at me so intensely that I blurted, “He’s in the mafia.”

Dylan’s head reared back as if I’d just slapped him. “Say again?”

“You heard me.”

He laughed for a second and then shook his head before he said, “I don’t think I did.” When I just stared at him, he frowned and asked, “Are you fucking serious?” I nodded, and he shook his head again and said, “What the fuck, Bella?”

“What can I say? I like him.”

“I get that, but when he told you he was part of the mafia, did you reassess the whole thing or . . .”

“He told me who he was that night at Elizabeth’s wedding, just a few minutes after we met. He said he wanted to get it out of the way because he knew I’d find out sooner or later.”

“And you still rolled with it?”

“Yeah.”

Dylan stared at the ceiling and asked, “What the fuck?”

“You and I both know that the family doesn’t make the man, Dill.”

“But when you say mafia that means an entirely different kind of family, Bella. ”

“I’m not even positive that our relationship will go any further, Dill. Right now, we’re just friends who talk on the phone.”

“All the time.”

“Well, yeah . . .”

“First thing in the morning, right before you go to sleep, random calls throughout the day?”

“Uh huh.”

Dylan narrowed his eyes and said, “And you don’t think that’s more than friends?”

“It’s working its way in that direction.”

“Don’t blow smoke up my ass and tell me it’s raining! You and I . . .”

“I think you’ve got your analogies mixed up, Dill. That should be . . .”

“Fuck the analogies, Bellamy! The man’s a fucking gangster!”

“It’s not like he’s Don Corleone, Dylan! ”

“Where does he live?” When I shrugged he rolled his eyes and said, “Probably in a mansion guarded by rabid dobermans and goons named Paulie and Rocco.”

I burst out laughing because I had heard Matteo mention a man named Rocco more than once. Dylan glared at me and said, “What the fuck is funny about this, Bella? You’re telling me that you are not only going to move to another planet, but you’re gonna date a fucking mobster when you get there!”

“It’s not another planet.”

“It might as well be! You’ve never even visited the place, and you’re fucking moving? What if the house you’re supposed to live in is a hovel surrounded by crackheads and gang warfare?”

“I seriously doubt that Bernadette would own a house like that.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“Not permanently, but at least until you get settled in.”

“You can’t just up and leave your life, Dylan!”

“You’re doing it!”

“You own a business. You can’t just leave it.”

“You’ve been telling me for ages that I need to take some time off. If I recall correctly, you even asked me, ‘What’s the point in hiring good people you can trust if you don’t trust them to run things while you take some time for yourself?’. Remember that conversation?”

“I’ve said that many times, but time for yourself does not include helping your sister move across the country.”

“No arguments - I’m going with you until you get settled in. I’ll get the lay of the land, meet this fucking mobster, and decide if I need to just kill him outright or make it look like an accident.”

“Dylan . . .”

“It’s not negotiable, Bella. If you’re gonna leave us, then at least give me this so I can make sure you’re safe and taken care of.” Dylan walked the few steps to the counter and leaned on it so that we were at eye-level before he said, “Think of Mom and Dad, Bell. They’ll be beside themselves with worry unless I assure them that you’re okay there.”

“That’s a low blow, even for you, Dill.”

Dylan shrugged and said, “Whatever works. When are we leaving?”