14. Vinnie

14

VINNIE

I make it home to Mom’s house by six p.m. I spent the remainder of the day ruminating over Raven—asking her to stay away from me, and regretting it.

In between that, I thought about Belinda and how I could help her.

Would her father allow me to marry her now? It’s disgusting to even think about, and is it even allowed with parental consent?

I wouldn’t touch her, of course. She would simply live in my home with Mom and me in her own room. I would treat her like a daughter.

The idea sickens me, but how else can I help her?

Perhaps I don’t have to marry her to bring her to my home. Aren’t there some cultures where the intended lives in the husband’s home until she comes of age?

Oh hell, who knows? And who cares? None of this is possible.

As much as I want to help the girl, I just can’t.

She should be playing piano, exploring her musical talent, going to competitions, getting scholarships—not being abused by her father and being groomed to be a Mafia wife.

How can I help her?

“Vinnie, what’s troubling you?” My mother asks as I sit down next to her for dinner.

It’s chicken parmesan with a side of spaghetti. One of my favorites, next to lasagna. But I’m not at all hungry.

And I’m not amused by my mother’s question.

“What isn’t troubling me?” I retort. “You know the life we’re leading. It’s fucked up, Mom.”

She wrinkles her nose. “You know I don’t like that language.”

I slam my fork down on the table. “I don’t like this life I’m living. This is my home now, until I build my own. And I’m the head of this home. I’ll speak the way I want to.”

My mother looks down at her lap.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“You’ve been spending too much time with your grandfather.”

I swallow. “It’s not like I have a choice in the matter, Mom. If I’d stayed in the beginning, Mikey would still be alive, and Savannah would never have been in the situation of having to marry Miles McAllister. Dad wouldn’t be in jail.”

She shakes her head curtly. “Don’t blame yourself, Vinnie. I don’t blame you.”

“No, you blame Savannah. Which makes no sense at all.”

“I love Savannah,” Mom says. “I adore her. But she never knew her place.”

“She knows her place just fine. She’s a woman of the twenty-first century. But this family is still living in Victorian times.”

“It’s just the way it is, Vinnie.” She sighs, gazing toward the window. “I was barely eighteen when I was married off to your father. We grew to love each other, but we could’ve just as easily grown to hate each other.”

“I need to talk to you about something,” I say. “About Belinda?—”

The doorbell rings. “Who could that be?” Mom asks.

The butler answers the door, and a few moments later, he interrupts our dinner. “Pardon me, Mr. Gallo, Mrs. Gallo. There’s a young lady here to see you, Mr. Gallo. She says her name is Raven Bellamy.”

Just the mention of her name and my heart speeds up.

What is she doing here? How did she even get here? She’s not supposed to be driving for more than twenty minutes.

Of course, after that Uber fiasco, she probably wouldn’t trust a rideshare.

I rise. “Excuse me, Mom.”

“She’s Falcon’s sister,” Mom says. “What’s she doing here?”

“I’ll find out.”

“Invite her to join us for dinner,” Mom says.

“I’ll see.”

I walk out of the kitchen dining area to the foyer where Raven stands underneath the grand crystal chandelier.

She’s wearing simple jeans, flip-flops, and a white T-shirt. Her cheeks are rosy, her lips pink. She looks beautiful, and both my heart and my dick react.

She gives me a tentative smile. “Hello, Vinnie.”

I can’t help myself. I walk toward her and take her into my arms, planting a chaste kiss on her lips before I simply hold her.

But just as quickly, I pull back, meet her gaze. “What are you doing here? I told you today that I can’t?—”

She places two fingers over my lips. “I know what you said. If you can look me in the eye and tell me to go away, I will. But I won’t accept it through a phone call. You have to look me in the eye. Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“Whether or not I want to be with you is irrelevant,” I say, “and you know it, Raven. I can’t keep you safe, and that kills me.”

She widens her eyes. “I believe you can keep me safe. I believe I can keep you safe. Safe in the bubble of our love.”

I let out a breath of air. “If only it were that simple.”

“Maybe it can be. Maybe it can’t. But I can tell you one thing.” She wraps her arms around my waist and gives me a squeeze. “I didn’t go through hell and survive cancer just to have the greatest love of my life taken away from me right as our relationship is beginning to blossom. It’s not fair. To either of us.”

I grab her hand and lead her into the living room, where I gesture her to sit down on the couch. I sit next to her.

“Raven,” I say, “you don’t know anything about me.”

“I know how you make me feel.” She pounds a fist against her heart. “That’s all I need to know.”

Maybe I just need to tell her. Tell her that I’m responsible for not one but two deaths now. One that I took in Eastern Europe in self-defense and was lucky enough to get away with, and one that I took mere days ago. The night she and I were together. The night I left her.

If she knows I’m a killer, maybe she’ll leave.

But I can’t bring myself to tell her.

I can’t lose her love. Maybe we can’t be together, but at least I know in my heart that this amazing woman loves me.

I need that. I need that knowledge to get through what’s coming.

“So are you going to tell me then?” she asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “What? Tell you to your face that we can’t be together?”

She crosses her arms. “Yes. That’s what I need you to do.”

I open my mouth, but then my mother’s voice interrupts us.

“Are you going to invite your friend to join us for dinner?”

Raven pops up off the couch. “You must be Mrs. Gallo. I’m Raven, Falcon’s sister. I’d love to join you for dinner.”

My mother smiles at her warmly. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. Do you like chicken parmesan?”

“I love it.”

Raven follows my mother into the kitchen to the large table where we eat. We don’t use the formal dining room since it’s just the two of us.

My mom gestures Raven to sit on my other side. “Phyllis, could you please set another plate?”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Once Raven’s place is set, my mother herself takes the plate and dishes up a generous portion of chicken parmesan and spaghetti marinara. “I hope you’re hungry,” she says. “Phyllis always makes enough to feed an army.”

Raven eyes the food and grins. “Yes, I am hungry. Thank you.”

Why isn’t my mother asking Raven what she’s doing here? This is all so surreal.

Mother spears a piece of chicken with her fork. “How are your parents doing?”

Raven pauses mid-chew, eyeing me. She’s wondering if she should tell my mother about what happened to that lawyer at their house. I subtly shake my head.

She swallows. “They’re doing well.”

Mom nods. “And your brother?”

I can’t help noticing that she doesn’t ask about my sister. Her daughter.

“Falcon is great. He and Savannah are fixing up their house quite nicely.”

“That’s lovely.” Mom shifts her gaze to the top of Raven’s head. “And how about you , dear? How is your recovery going?”

Raven smiles. “Never better. My appetite came back something fierce after the bone marrow transplant. It’s been so great being able to enjoy the taste of food again. The taste of life again.”

God, she’s something. I remember when we were with Falcon and Savannah, how serene she looked as she was eating the ice cream and raspberries Savannah made. How much she savored every bite.

She’s doing the same with the chicken. I can see her taking in every texture. The gooey cheese, the crunchy breading, the moist chicken.

Good God, I’m fucked.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Mom replies to Raven. “Our family has been praying for you.”

I nearly choke on my bite of chicken. Maybe Mom has been praying for Raven. There’d be no way of knowing. But it was only a few days ago I was convincing my own goddamned Grandfather not to take a hit out on this woman. I doubt she’s been in his prayers.

But Mom doesn’t know about any of that. And neither does Raven. So I’ll keep my mouth shut. My mother continues to pepper Raven with small talk as we finish our dinner. Raven answers each question candidly between bites of food, letting her gorgeous personality slip in every time she utters a word. Mom listens with bright eyes.

The two of them are chatting as if they’ve known each other forever.

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine that my life is different. That Raven is my girlfriend and I brought her home to meet my mother, and they’re getting along famously—which they are.

And that later tonight, perhaps I’m planning to propose to Raven. With a large diamond ring in my pocket.

That I have my mother’s approval.

And that the woman I love will be mine forever.

But reality nudges its head back in. Raven and I are not boyfriend and girlfriend. And I’m not proposing to her later tonight. No.

I’m promised to an eleven-year-old girl—an eleven-year-old girl who is being abused and has asked me for help.

I force myself to finish my dinner, and then I sit with an empty plate while Mom and Raven are still chatting as if everything’s fine.

But everything’s not fine. I’ve killed two men. My father’s in prison for killing another—and God only knows how many more he’s killed and gotten away with it. And I’m sure that number pales in comparison to my grandfather’s body count.

And Raven… Raven has been thrown into this. Her attorney is dead because of it.

I clear my throat. “Would you ladies excuse me please?”

“Vinnie,” Mom says, “don’t be rude.”

I tap my right pants pocket. “Sorry. I have to make a phone call and it can’t wait.”

Mom frowns. “All right, but come back quickly. Phyllis made tiramisu for dessert.”

I don’t actually have to make a phone call. I just need to leave the kitchen for a moment. I need to gather my wits, figure out how best to deal with the situation. Raven is here, and all I can think about is getting her up into my bedroom.

I don’t even care that my mother is here in the house.

Of course, there’s always the guesthouse. The guesthouse, which is always fully furnished, complete with a pool and hot tub.

Perhaps I should be living there anyway. I just don’t want to leave Mom alone. Especially since my grandfather has made it clear that every female member of his family—his daughter included—is an expendable pawn in his game.

But my mind still keeps dwelling on that guesthouse…

Raven and I could be alone there. We could make all the noise we want. I could fuck her into the wee hours of the morning.

But would that change anything?

No. Not a damned thing. It would only make it more difficult to let her go again.

She’s made it clear that she’s not going to go easily or willingly.

So I’m going to have to demand it. I’m going to have to hurt her.

God, the thought of it…

I draw a breath as I go back to the kitchen. Mom and Raven have cleaned their plates, and Phyllis is setting out the dessert.

“Raven,” I say, “may I have a word?”

“We’re just about to start dessert, Vinnie.” Raven grabs a small plate from Phyllis. “I believe I’ve told you before that I never turn down dessert. I will never turn down dessert again.”

Yes, she did say that.

I plunk back into my chair and take a spoonful of the tiramisu that Phyllis placed in front of me.

I’m not a big fan of tiramisu, but it’s my mother’s favorite.

Dessert drags on. It doesn’t help that my mother keeps asking Raven questions, forcing her to slow down her eating. I gobble mine up pretty quickly, leaving a trail of cocoa powder all over the table in my wake. But Raven takes her sweet-ass time. It’s like she knows that this might very well be the last time we’ll share a meal together.

Once my mother and Raven are both done, and Raven—thank God—says no to coffee, I rise. “Raven, can I speak with you outside?”

“Of course.” She smiles at my mom. “Mrs. Gallo, thank you for the lovely dinner. Everything was delicious. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

My mom smiles and gives Raven a hug. “It was a joy to meet you as well.”

Finally, I escort Raven toward the French doors that lead out to the large redwood deck. The guesthouse stands in the distance, and I lead Raven toward it.

She glances around and scratches the side of her head. “Where are we going?”

“This is the guesthouse.” I walk her to the front door. “You and I are going to go in, and I’m going to fuck you.”

Her eyes widen. “But I thought?—”

I look away from her. “You thought what, Raven? That you would show up here and nothing would happen? That’s bullshit. You came here for this. We both want it. And we’re going to have it.”

Raven swallows. “Vinnie, I?—”

I stop walking, grab her shoulders, and force her to face me. “You knew how this was going to end up as well as I did. You knew it when you came here.”

“But I didn’t.” She wriggles out of my grasp. “You live with your mother. I just wanted to see you. I wanted you to say it to my face, Vinnie.”

“Say what to your face?”

She looks down. “That you don’t love me. That you don’t want to be with me.”

I grit my teeth. “You know that isn’t true. It’s because I want to be with you that I can’t be. Not until this business with my family is taken care of.”

She keeps her gaze down, kicking at a pebble. “Then maybe it’s best that we don’t sleep together tonight. Best to”—she looks up at me with those soulful doe eyes—“make a clean cut.”

“I call bullshit.” I grab her hands. “You want me to fuck you, Raven. And I want to fuck you just as badly. Probably more badly.”

“Vinnie…”

“I’m done talking, Raven.” I pull her into my arms, carrying her like a child. She’s no heavier than a feather in my arms, and I walk the rest of the way to the guesthouse.

I push in the code, disarming the security system to the guesthouse, and open the door.

The guesthouse is nearly as lavish as the main house, though it’s quite a bit smaller. A large living and dining room, a smaller kitchen and family area, and three bedrooms round out the one-story home.

With Raven still in my arms, I head down the hallway toward the master bedroom.

I open the door and look her in the eyes.

“Here’s your one chance, Raven. You can walk away now. Walk away and don’t come back. If you really want that clean cut, now’s your chance. Because if you don’t? I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you in this bed. I’m going to fuck you hard. It’s not going to be gentle. It’s not going to be nice. I’m going to take out all the frustrations of the last couple days on your body, Raven. Are you ready for that? Are you up for it?”

She swallows. “I can take anything you dish out, Vinnie.”

“You sure about that?” I narrow my gaze. “Because I can’t tell you what the last couple days have been like for me.”

She raises a trembling arm, cups my cheek. “You can. You can tell me anything.”

I look away, gaze out the window. “If only that were true…”

“But you can , Vinnie.” She returns her hand to my face and forces me to look at her. “I want you to. I want to help you. Let me be your strength, Vinnie. And I’ll let you be mine.”

I sigh and stand her on her own feet. “I wish I had strength left to give you, Raven. I’m doing everything I can to keep my own fucking head above water right now with my family. Things have gotten volatile. More volatile than you can even imagine.”

“You think I can’t imagine volatile?” She crosses her arms. “My attorney had his throat slit while I was with you. I found surveillance equipment in my home—my home . Maybe those two things are related to you and maybe they’re not. But I’ll tell you what doesn’t have anything to do with you. Falcon spent eight years in prison. There’s a drug lord buried under my father’s old barn. You want to talk about volatile? My whole family is volatile right now.”

She’s not wrong.

Perhaps I’ve underestimated her.

I grab her by the forearms, squeezing hard. I sear my gaze into her. “Then show me your volatility, Raven. Show me now. Take off those clothes and get on the fucking bed.”