Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ELENA

I almost feel like a politician or a celebrity as the chauffeur drives me through the city. One car drives slightly ahead of us, filled with three Mafia men, and there’s another one behind us. Dario wasn’t kidding when he said he was beefing up security.

Last night, after arriving at the townhouse, Dario disappeared and left me alone for the evening to wonder if what we shared was real. My body was still hot after what we did. I never expected him to pounce on me like that, but when he did, my body blazed beneath his touch. It was the most intense, intimate thing I’ve ever experienced. That’s not saying much, sure, but still.

Arriving at Aunt Rosa’s apartment—jeez, nope, my apartment—I climb from the car and walk across the street. My hair is back to its normal not-really-a-style, and I’m wearing my own clothes. A teensy-weensy part of me might miss the outfit I wore yesterday, but I can’t let myself fall in love with this Mafia life. Maybe that’s why I’m here—to remind myself why I’m doing this.

When I arrive, Giulia is sitting in the armchair, reading her Kindle. “Hey,” I say, hugging her as she stands.

She tilts her head at me once the hug is over, that knowing look on her face.

“What?” I ask.

“You look different.”

“Different, how?”

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.” Her eyes gleam playfully. “Did you have sex last night?”

“What?” I try to laugh it off. “Is that your superpower now, being able to tell when people have sex? What even gave you that idea?”

“You’re glowing, and you have an aura of guilt mixed with desire. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve known you for most of your life.”

“Not as well as you think, seemingly. I was a virgin when I left, and I’m still a virgin. Seriously, that’s so random.” I sit on the couch. “How is she?”

“She had a good therapy session this morning. This guy is certainly worth the money. She’s taking a nap right now.”

“Thanks again?—”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” she says, returning to her chair.

“I’m going to anyway, so you might as well get used to it.”

“So …” she says, tilting her head in that annoying and somehow endearing way. “What’s changed? Something unquestionably has.”

“Nope. I’ve got my role. I think I’m doing better, but everything is the same. Cash for the curtain call, easy as that.”

“Hmm.” She leans forward. “If you want to play that game, that’s fine with me.”

There’s a long pause as she continues to stare at me. Eventually, feeling like I’ve got no choice—she’s like a dog with a bone—I throw my hands up. “Okay. Last night, we went to this fancy charity gala thingy. On the way home, Dario got … heated.”

“Heated how?”

“You don’t want all the details.”

“Don’t I?” she grins.

“He kissed me, and he did other things. He wanted to go all the way in the limo , so I was forced to tell him about my V-card. It seemed like it almost made him want me more for a second, but then we resumed being cold. We haven’t spoken since. I think he probably regrets it.”

“I’m hearing a lot about what he wants and thinks. What about you?”

I close my eyes briefly, reliving the whole experience like a movie playing at hyperspeed in my head. My body goes through the same sensations, the sizzling closeness, his powerful, confident hand rubbing against my clit, the pleasure destroying any other thoughts.

“It was amazing,” I say quietly. “Inside the limo, for that moment , it was easily the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I know that’s not saying a lot. I sort of gave him the silent treatment after. Honestly, I was hoping he’d break it. I was hoping he’d come onto me again. Sure, it made me nervous, but only after. When we were actually doing it, it was like heaven.”

“I can tell. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“But I can’t trust it—can’t trust him. This is all an act, and even if it weren’t, Aunt Rosa would never approve. His parents, at least his dad, would unquestionably never approve of the real me, the poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Then there’s the small fact he’s a freaking criminal . There are three cars parked out front filled with Mafia men to keep me safe from another Mafia Family.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself this can’t have a happy ending.”

“Remind, not convince.”

Giulia shrugs. “Then maybe you should forget about the future. Maybe you should just try to have some fun. Savor the weeks you have together, earn some cash, and then move on.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “You’re right.”

Yet it feels hollow to me. I’m not sure when I started thinking like this, but I’d rather keep it cold and distant if this doesn’t have a happy ending. It can’t have a happy ending. So that’s it, then. I need to be closed off and distant.

“I’m going to check on Aunt Rosa,” I say.

Going into her bedroom, I find her sleeping on her back, her depressingly thin hands crossed over her middle, almost like a person laid out at a wake. The morbid thought disgusts me. I push it away as I walk across the room and sit at her bedside, gently laying my hand on hers.

She murmurs in her sleep. “Sister, sister,” she whimpers. “Sorry. Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

Sister? As in my mom? Aunt Rosa rarely speaks about my parents, little brother, and the fire. It left scars on me, but I’ve learned to deal with them. Life is just sickeningly tragic sometimes.

“Forgive me,” she moans. “Forgive—” She wakes with a yelp, her eyes flitting to me. “I thought you were your mother for a second.”

I gently squeeze her hand. “It’s just me, Aunt Rosa.”

“Was I dreaming?”

“I think you were having a nightmare.” I almost don’t mention it, but she mentions Mom so rarely that I can’t help myself. “You were apologizing to Mom, saying sister, sister, forgive me .”

“Hmm.” She chews on the inside of her cheek, looking almost like her old self before the illness struck. She has that calculating, intelligent spark in her eyes. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?” I ask, my interest piqued. “Why would you have to say sorry to Mom? You took me in after she … after what happened. The fire.” Even now, it hurts to say, though I’ve done a passable job at hardening myself to it.

“That never should’ve happened.”

“Accidents happen. It’s a tragedy.”

“But it wasn’t an accident,” she says.

I bury my shock, not wanting to freak her out. Also, she’s on meds. Her mind is warped by her condition. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. “Yes, it was. An electrical fire, remember?”

“An electrical … Is that what they told you?”

“That’s what everybody told everybody,” I say, my voice quivering, “because that’s what happened. You took me in, and we got on with the business of living. That’s what you said to me. We have to get on with the business of living, Elena . Do you remember?”

“I remember so much,” she whispers. “More than I’d like.”

“So you remember the accident.”

“I remember the fire.”

“Which was an accident …”

“There was no accident ,” she says, appalled. “I’m in this bed because of that fire. I’m being punished. Don’t you see ?” Her voice rises. “Don’t you see?”

I watch as a panic attack grips her, her breathing coming fast, her hands shaking uncontrollably, and sweat beginning to bead her brow. I take her hand in both of mine and talk her through some breathing exercises. Finally, she calms down, her eyes falling closed again.

“Is she okay?” Giulia asks quietly from the doorway.

I stand silently, not wanting to wake her, and join Giulia in the living room. “She had a nightmare followed by a panic attack. She was saying some weird stuff about the fire, as well as Mom, Dad, and Stevey. She said this illness was her punishment for what happened, and the fire wasn’t an accident.”

Giulia touches my shoulder, looking at me with evident emotion. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Try not to overthink it.”

“You’re right,” I murmur. “It’s just so weird. She’s never said anything like that before. She doesn’t even talk about Mom, really, not ever. I can’t even remember the last time she mentioned the fire. The cops and the fire department all said it was an accident.”

“Hey …” Giulia takes both my shoulders in her hands. “This all sounds suspiciously like overthinking to me.”

“You’re right. Shall I make us some coffee?”

Without waiting for an answer, I walk into the kitchen and begin making it. I know what Giulia said is right. Aunt Rosa probably won’t even remember saying any of that to me. She’s bringing it up a lot, and I’d rather not deal with it. I still remember the fireman kicking down my bedroom door, pulling me into his arms, and running through the house as my child’s brain tried to figure out what was happening.

“You’re still thinking about it, huh?” Giulia says when I sit down.

“What if it wasn’t a nightmare? Now that she’s ill, what if she’s ready to tell the truth?”

“Everyone agreed it was an accident. I know you’ve always wanted some rhyme or reason to it, Elena, but I can’t imagine Rosa lying to you about something this important. First, how would she know more than the fire department? And if she did, why wouldn’t she tell anybody, especially you?”

“She said she was being punished for it.”

Giulia snaps, “So what, you think your aunt burned down the house?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. I just don’t want you to torture yourself over this. I remember how you used to obsess about it, but you’ve done so well these last few years. You’ve moved on. I’m proud of you.”

I take a sip of scalding coffee as if I can burn the thoughts away. “You’re right. I can’t go down this rabbit hole. I’ll never climb out.”

“Just think, when she’s better, if it’s still playing on your mind, you can ask her what she meant.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No, you’re right. I’ll drive myself crazy if I keep thinking about this. Remember before this mob-marriage thing, when Aunt Rosa was convinced she could fly? It wasn’t like I sat at her bedside, waiting for her to float away. I’m just being silly.”

Yet deep down, something niggles at me. She seemed so, so convincing.