Nite gets my attention when he runs a hand through his hair. He looks nervous.
“So when are we going to be informed of where we’re going?” Max asks.
I’m not all that fond of them, but as long as they take orders, I won’t slit their necks.
“Italy,” I answer.
“For how long?” the other asks.
“We’ll only be going for a couple of days.” I look at Nite, and he swallows. He’ll be staying behind.
CHAPTER TEN
HAVEN
THIRTEEN HOURS AND three naps later, our plane touches down in Sicily, Italy, where two cars await us outside of an airplane hangar. Luca ushers me into the back seat of the first one along with one of the guys I know to be named Max. Nite and the other guy climb into the second car. I stay silent, looking out the window of the car. I’ve been to Italy before. When I was nine, my parents brought me to the largest Mediterranean island for vacation. We stayed for a week, and I would move here in a heartbeat.
We pull up to a gate, but it opens before the car even rolls to a stop. I sit up straighter, watching as the grand Italian Palazzo-style mansion comes into view. The sun is starting to set in the background, making the illuminated structure look picture perfect. The car comes to a stop on the red brick driveway. The driver gets out, opening my door, and I exit, looking up at it in awe.
“Is this your place?” I ask Luca, not bothering to look over at him.
“No,” he answers, taking my hand and leading me up the stone stairs past the concrete columns.
Two wooden doors open, and we step inside. I look around, amazed at the expensive artwork hanging from the walls. And the detail work in the ceiling and floors.
“Where is she?” Luca asks a man who walks up to us.
I tense. She? In the past thirteen hours, I never once asked why we were coming here. My head whips to look over at him.
The man answers in Italian, and my lips thin.
Luca nods and then begins to drag me through the house until we’re walking out an open glass door. And a woman stands in front of the Olympic-size infinity pool. The house sits on the side of a cliff, giving an ocean view. But all I can look at is the woman who has her back to us. She’s got long lean legs. She wears a one-piece black bathing suit that is cut high on her narrow hips, showing off her bubble ass. Her long, thick dark hair tapers down to a V of her lower back. She wears a massive white hat that you would see at the Kentucky Derby. A black ribbon wrapped around the base is tied into a big bow on the side, and the ribbon hangs off the edge.
Luca says something in Italian, and again, I kick myself for not knowing the language.
The woman spins around, and her pouty red painted lips part on a gasp. She runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
He hugs her tightly. I’m instantly jealous. If he brought me here to meet his summer fling, I’m gonna be pissed. Placing her down on her black wedges, she turns to face me. A pair of black Gucci glasses sits on her flawless Barbie face. My eyes roam over her small chest and tiny frame. She looks like a model who deserves to be on the cover of Vogue. I never look this good sitting by the pool. I never look this good at all actually.
“You must be Haven.” She reaches her right hand out to me. Her English just as perfect as her Italian sounded. Just like her.
“I’m his fiancée,” I correct her, lifting my chin. I instantly want to crawl under the table that sits to the right of me. I shouldn’t show any kind of jealousy toward her because it just proves Luca right.
She giggles, and Luca gives a small cough.
“Congratulations.” She gives me a big smile, showing off her dazzling smile. Teeth as white as fresh snow. They’re also as straight as an arrow.
Fuck, is there anything wrong with this girl? She doesn’t seem to have a single flaw. As if she’s been groomed to bring any man to his knees.
“Haven …” He throws his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “This is Mia Bianchi. My sister.”
Uh … “Your what?” His sister?
I was six when another girl came along. My mother instantly started bawling. She knew the child’s fate would be the same as her first daughter. But she begged my father not to kill her. He had never said anything beyond that. I figured his dad had killed her as well. “But …?”
She hugs me, pushing me back a little at her force. Giggling like a teenager, she whispers in my ear, “I’ve always wanted a sister.”