Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ELENA

W e’ve come full circle. The four of us—Salvatore, Maria, Dario, and I—sit in the same dining room where we shared our first meal. Memories return to me as Clara brings in tea and coffee, the etiquette I completely messed up, the nerves that made me ache like I was going to break down.

Once Maria pours the drinks, I say, “Thank you, Maria.” I don’t let myself give a single frick about the look Salvatore gives Dario. Since we’re going nuclear, I don’t have to worry about being too nice to the staff.

Salvatore’s sharp eyes flit between Maria and Dario. “You wanted to see me?” he says after a long pause.

Dario rests his elbows on the table, almost like a challenge, declaring that he’s finished with his old uptight ways. He looks dashing and capable in his pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled up, his taut forearms taking me back to last night. My body aches in the best way, my inner thighs throbbing as if demanding more. I never dreamed it would be so effortless.

“I hired Elena to pretend to be my fiancée. She’s not from a rich family out west. She’s from a relatively poor family right here in the city. She’s not a Mafia girl. She’s a kindhearted, funny, beautiful woman with her own dreams and aspirations.”

“You hired her,” Salvatore says, eyes narrowed. “I’m not following.”

“We were going to get divorced after the wedding. I was going to use it as an excuse to stay single. I was tired of the pressure from all sides to get married and secure the family line. I just wanted to live in peace. Before Elena, that’s what I thought I wanted. I never imagined I’d genuinely fall in love. I didn’t think I could fall in love.”

He reaches across the table and takes my hand. When I see Salvatore’s eyes bulging, I almost yank my hand away. He stares at our clasped hands as though it’s a personal affront.

“Dario, let’s speak alone,” he says.

“No, Father,” Dario replies. “We’re not cutting Elena out of this conversation. She deserves to be here. She deserves to hear anything you’re going to say.”

Salvatore steeples his fingers, looking at me severely. For a moment, I think he’s going to start yelling. It’s like there’s all this pent-up pressure in him getting ready to explode.

“How much has my son paid you?”

“A lot,” I admit, “and he was going to pay me even more. When this began, it was about money. I won’t deny that.”

“Now we’re to believe that this motivation has miraculously disappeared?”

I’m about to waver, but then Dario squeezes my hand supportively, giving me the strength to respond. “Coming here has been the craziest experience of my life. It meant giving up what could’ve been my big break in the theater. It meant leaving my sick aunt. It meant trying to exist in a world where I don’t belong, being laughed at, sneered at, but this is the truth, sir. If your son were dirt-poor, I’d still love him.”

“I suppose I should simply take your word for that,” he says.

“You took my word, Salvatore,” Maria says.

“Maria,” he snaps.

“They already know ,” she scolds. “I’ve told them both about who I really am, about my true origins. I’m sorry. I know you never wanted me to tell anyone, but once I learned who Elena was?—”

“You knew ?” Salvatore says. For a moment, he doesn’t seem like a Mafia Don. He looks like what he is—a betrayed and heartbroken old man. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I knew you’d make them stop,” she sighs. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. I wanted to give them some time. We’re only here now because Dario insisted we tell you the truth.”

“Some time for what?” Salvatore says.

“To experience what we experienced—to fall in love.”

“Love,” Salvatore repeats. “They’ve known each other for a week, maybe two?”

“You told me you fell in love the moment you saw me—a beggar on the side of the road. The daughter of a prostitute, and you knew, Salvie.”

Salvatore grits his teeth, his fingers still steepled. He’s completely repressed the vulnerable look he just showed when Maria told him the truth. “Things are different for them than for us,” Salvatore replies. “The Family was smaller back then. We were still making a name for ourselves. I had the freedom to choose someone from a lower social background. Dario needs to represent what the Family has become .”

“You don’t understand, Father,” Dario says. “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you that Elena is the love of my life. I’ll take the consequences if you refuse to accept us.”

Salvatore leans forward, glaring at his son. “Do you know what you’re saying?” he growls. “Do you have any notion of the pain this could cause?”

“I know, Father,” Dario says sharply, “but she’s my woman. I’m standing by her.”

“Easy,” I whisper, even as his words send warmth flowing through me. “Let’s keep this civil.”

Dario glances at me, the fury draining from his face. “Thank you,” he says softly. “I don’t think this is about the Family. We already own the city. Our control will be even more secure when your land grab is complete. Hell, I wiped out the Romanos, and our connections have kept all our men from facing any consequences.”

“You say that as though it was easy.”

“Not easy, but it’s a testament to what we are, to who we are.”

“What’s your point?” Salvatore snaps.

“I think this is about you,” Dario says, struggling to keep his voice level.

I squeeze his hand, reminding him to stay calm. He seems grateful that I’m here and able to mediate the situation.

“Explain,” Salvatore snaps.

“You’ve always been ashamed of the Family’s origins. You hear stories of other Families who go back to the Prohibition era, who can boast of doing business with Capone and his cronies, and you wish we were the same. You wish we had that long lineage, but you know you can’t go back in time and make it so. Instead, you try to force me to pretend to be something I have no interest in being.”

“What’s that, son?”

“A stuck-up ass,” he snaps. “A man who’d judge a perfect woman like Elena because she doesn’t know which fork to use for which course. You expect me to judge someone based on them being born poor when you were born poor yourself. Father, I love you. I’m sorry it’s come to this, but you’re being a hypocrite.”

Salvatore looks at me. “You see how my only son speaks to me, girl?”

“She has a name,” Maria says, placing her hand on her husband’s arm.

“Oh, yes, Elena Esposito. Or is that false, too? Are you even Italian?”

“My surname is Rossi. We used a fake name as part of the?—”

“You can say it,” he grunts. “The scam . The trick . The shameless ploy . Please don’t feel as if you need to remember your manners now. The time for that is long past.”

“I never intended to hurt you, sir,” I say. “My aunt was—is—very sick. When I had the chance to earn enough money to get her the care she deserved, there was no way I could pass it up. Your Family is clearly the most important thing to you. My family is the most important thing to me.”

“You’re willing to sacrifice your life for my son, are you?” he demands. “You’re ready to become a stay-at-home wife?”

“She doesn’t need to do that,” Dario says fiercely. “She can pursue her dream of being an actor.”

Salvatore rolls his eyes at Maria. “Am I hearing this correctly?”

“Please, listen, Salvie,” Maria says. “I can tell you’re thinking about what Dario has said. I can tell it’s affected you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t even still be sitting here.”

“I’m sitting here because I love you, Maria, and you look like you may cry if I leave.”

“I may cry because the two people I love most are behaving like they hate each other,” she says in a shaky voice.

“I don’t hate my son,” Salvatore snaps.

“Then listen .”

“Fine, I’m listening.”

Dario looks at me, his eyes filled with emotion. I saw the demon in him before, the savage, but this is something else. I’m peering through the layers of mafiosi bravado at the little boy beneath. I touch his forearm, letting him know I’m here for support. I always will be.

“Your concern about Elena having a career comes from your desire to make the Family look strong, correct?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“If we keep with tradition, if we keep our women in line, it’s a testament to how much control we have. Don’t lie to me, Father. I know that’s what it is because that’s how every other Family has done it.”

Salvatore seems to be weakening. Mostly, it comes from his connection to Maria. He glances at her every few moments. Each time, it’s like a small brick in the wall of his uncertainty crumbles away.

“Yes, fine,” he snaps. “That’s the idea behind it.”

“How much more powerful will we look if the princess of the Moretti Family is free to pursue her dreams, and there’s not a damn thing anybody can say or do about it? How much more powerful will we look if the prince is free to choose a woman he wants, needs, and loves? Let them whisper at parties and make their snide remarks. It doesn’t matter, Father. Do you know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

The boy in Dario drifts away, replaced again by the savage. “Because they’d never say it to our faces,” he growls. “They wouldn’t even dream of it. If anything, granting me your blessing to be with the woman I love is a big middle finger to the rats in this city who think they’re on our level.”

Salvatore’s lip twitches. A proud father emerges in his expression. I can see his anger wavering. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

“Because, understandably, you’ve been thinking in the old-school way, but I’m the new school. I’m ready to make a point. If anybody has a problem with my woman’s background or passion for acting, they can take it up with me. Realistically, Father, nobody will stop doing business with us over this. Nobody’s going to go to war with us. If they even try, I’ll crush them like I crushed the Romanos.”

Salvatore, for the first time since I met him, looks indecisive. He chews the inside of his cheek, then lays his elbows on the table. It seems to be a turning point, but I don’t let too much hope flare in me. “Elena, you need to be honest with me now. Remember, I’ve spent countless hours of my life searching for lies in the words people throw at me. I’ve become extremely effective at it.”

I sit up straight. “You can ask me anything, Mr. Moretti.”

“Did you mean what you said? If my son was poor, would you still want him?”

“Yes,” I say fiercely. “I love him, sir. I love him more than I ever thought someone could love in such a short time.”

“What if I said you could be with him, but you’d have to quit acting?”

“Father—”

“Let her answer,” Salvatore says.

“It would break my heart,” I murmur, “but Dario’s willing to sacrifice so much to be with me. I’d do the same. It would kill me, but I’d do it. He’s the most important person in my life.”

“Can’t you see, Salvie?” Maria takes his hand in both of hers. “They’re in love, just like we are. We’d be monsters to stand in their way.”

“Dammit.” Salvatore leans back, shaking his head. After a pause, he laughs ruefully. “I’m trying to find a hole in your logic, Dario. You’ve always been very intelligent, even as a boy.”

“The logic’s sound,” Dario agrees, scooting his chair close and wrapping his arm around me. “But there’s something deeper than logic here: devotion, love, dedication, and certainty .”

“Certainty,” I repeat, tears pricking my eyes.

“There’s one last thing we must settle,” Salvatore says. “Elena, do you know what my son truly is? Has he told you?”

“I’ve seen,” I whisper. “A man was going to do terrible things to me. Then Dario did terrible things to him instead.”

“You weren’t afraid?”

“I was. I still am, on some level, but my love is much stronger than my fear.”

“After hearing that, how can you stand in their way?” Maria asks. “Are you going to exile Dario and tear this Family apart?”

“That’s not fair, Mother,” Dario says. “Father didn’t force me to fall in love with Elena. He didn’t force me to tell him. I’m the one who brought this to the table.”

“He’s right,” Salvatore says, “but you’ve made some valid points, son. I’d never say anything like this outside of this room, but I fear I’ve allowed the opinions of others to rule me for far too long.”

“Thank you, Father,” Dario says, excitement bubbling up in his voice. His tone gets me smiling more broadly, with more carefree energy than I ever felt or imagined I could feel in this dining room.

“Yes, Mr. Moretti,” I say. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me,” Salvatore says. “Thank Maria for making me see sense and Dario for his logic. You, Elena, also played your part.”

“I did?”

“I’ve been trying to ignore it, but even during our first dinner, I saw how you looked at my son. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice it, tried to pretend it was nothing, but Maria is right. I know real love when I see it. It’s the same thing I experienced when walking down the street as a young man full of impossible dreams; I looked down and saw a beggar.”

“Nobody else would’ve looked twice,” Maria whispers, tears filling her eyes. “You did more than look, Salvie. You stared into my soul, into my heart. You saw something in me nobody else ever could have.”

“You did the same,” Salvatore says. “You’ve never stopped bringing out those pieces of me. If it weren’t for you, I’d be a grumpy, overworked old man, but you give me life.”

Maria leans across the table to kiss her husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Dario turns to me with a smile. His eyes gleam, but not with the energy of a savage this time, not with the aura of a man who’s ready to shoot, hit, and kill. He looks like what he was never supposed to be for real—my future husband.

“Father, would you excuse us?”

“That’s funny,” Salvatore says. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

We all laugh, and then Dario stands up and sweeps me into his arms. Putting his arm around me, he leads me into the hallway, out of sight, and pulls me into an intense hug. He holds me close, pressing his body against mine. I press my face against his chest, inhaling his scent, his realness, his permanence.

“I love you so much,” I say, only realizing I’m sobbing when I hear how choked my voice is.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice flooded with passion.

“I just can’t believe it. I keep expecting to wake up in that farmhouse. None of this will be real. It can’t be, can it? We keep saying it. This is real life, not a movie or a book. We can’t get everything we want. Life just doesn’t work that way.”

“We’ve got something special,” he says. “Something so many people will go their entire lives without experiencing. Something most people only read about in fairy tales.”

He clasps my face in his hands, looking down at me with love burning from every part of him. His eyes blaze. His lips tremble as if he, too, is holding back tears.

“What?” I whisper.

“A happily ever after,” he says, then laughs as if he can’t believe a hardened mafioso like him just said something like that. “And I don’t care how lame?—”

“Lame or not, it’s true,” I cut in, standing on my tiptoes and bringing my lips to his. “We’re in this together, Dario—forever.”

“Forever,” he repeats as our lips meet in a burning clash of love and belonging.