Page List


Font:  

Matteo turned a bright grin my way, and I knew what that meant. "How's Samara?"

/> "She's fine," I said shortly. I grimaced at him, silently trying to warn him it was not a subject we needed to broach.

"Just fine? Not jumping your bones yet?" he asked, drawing a little giggle from his wife. How Samara could be so oblivious to what was happening between us when everyone around us saw it so clearly, I would never know. Sometimes it felt like she'd built walls so tall that she couldn't see over them.

"I'm waiting until the divorce is final. I won't make her mine when she still has a husband." I shrugged like the timing was inconsequential, even if it killed me more and more every day that I held true to the promise I'd made myself. I'd wanted to claim her as soon as Matteo claimed Ivory for himself, knowing my cousin would have my back and help me protect Samara the way he protected Ivory.

Instead, I'd done the right thing. It was vastly overrated, but after wasting this much time, I couldn't bring myself to break my vow. "The divorce still isn't finalized?" Ivory asked, and I hated the way her voice morphed with concern. She'd only met Connor a few times in passing before they separated, since she and Samara had barely spoken before she reunited with Matteo, but even she hadn't formed a positive opinion of the man.

"She said he's fighting it, and since he has all his resources at his disposal, he's holding up the process." I shrugged, because that was as much as I knew, even though it frustrated me to no end. There had been a time when Samara told me everything, and even the things she didn't say outright, she said in every other way. But the past couple years she'd been distant, like some secret plagued her, and she couldn't open up to me the way she once had.

I hated it.

I'd been patient, but that time had come to an end.

"And why haven't you backed her up?" Matteo looked at me like I'd grown a second head.

"I've been respecting her boundaries. She asked me not to get involved, and I wanted to give her that, stupidly." I huffed a laugh. I didn't say it, but I remembered how close Matteo had come to losing Ivory because of his willingness to cross boundaries that shouldn't have been crossed.

"I hate to say it," Ivory whispered, clenching her eyes closed like it pained her to admit. "But it's been over nine months. I think it's time that you interfere. Just don't tell her I said that. Girl code," she said with a humorless chuckle.

Donatello left the room, and I knew it was because he had no interest in talking about Samara. He loved her like a daughter, had watched her grow up in the same way he'd been there for Matteo and I. The prospect of interfering in her life without her consent wasn't something he would take lightly. Even if he would ultimately side with Matteo and I when it came to her safety.

"I'm already working on it," I admitted. The way Ivory's face filled with relief made something in my chest tighten. I'd waited too long to interfere. If Ivory thought so, then I really had given Samara too much time to figure it out on her own.

"Good. Connor really gives me a bad feeling, Lino. I'll feel much better when all the ties are severed."

"You and me both, sweetheart," I agreed.

Maybe I'd finally start sleeping again once I knew Samara was mine. I had a feeling I'd have a much greater incentive to stay in bed when I couldn't sleep at the very least. Having her waiting there for me would mean I never wanted to leave.

Five

Samara

Making my way into the Bird Lounge on Tuesdays was something that never seemed to get any easier. The memory of the days when I'd gotten up on the stage and sang was nothing but a distant memory that ate at me every day. It was one that I wanted to change, something I wanted to take back after the years of Connor convincing me I couldn't sing. The guitar in the case at my side felt weighted, and I pointedly had to ignore the glances of the few people who still recognized me for the regular I'd once been.

Singing had never been a career path for me, even when I'd let Lino convince me I had a voice worth listening to, but that didn't mean that my soul didn't miss the way it felt to sing on stage. Even if Lino had never come to the Bird Lounge with me, I saw him everywhere. Felt his presence in the very venue, given that I'd chosen it for the name.

His Little Dove singing at the Bird Lounge.

I'd always thought to bring him there one day, to show him what I could do when someone believed in me.

When he believed in me.

But those days were gone, Lino's position in my life solidified with all the years wasted between us and all the bittersweet memories I had of him as my best friend.

So watching someone perform on the stage, the stage I knew I wouldn't perform on that night the moment I walked into the door, I settled into my chair as an observer. Her voice was deep, raspy. Seductive rather than the clear twang of my own. Everything I wished I had for myself. I sipped at the beer I'd grabbed from the bar, smoothing a hand down my fitted skirt. The sleek fabric was a contrast to the cashmere sweater that hung off my shoulders loosely, and the fabric inched up my thighs when I crossed my legs.

A glance over to the bar confirmed the man who had been watching since I entered still sat there with his eyes on me. I ignored it in favor of feeling the music pulse through my veins. I felt the moment he stood, far too aware of all the men in the room. I wished I could go back to the days when I didn't feel like a victim swimming in shark-infested waters. I wished that I could erase the scars the assault left me with.

"You getting up there tonight, sweet thing?" he asked, helping himself to the other chair at my high-top table. I smiled politely, inching as far to the opposite side as my chair would allow.

"Not tonight."

"You brought a guitar. Just like every Tuesday." His green eyes angled down to look at the case propped against my chair.

I fought down the discomfort of him having seen me before. Lots of people went to the Bird Lounge for open mic night. It didn't mean he was a stalker or meant to harm me. "Not feeling it tonight," I whispered, feeling my pulse quicken when he leaned closer into my space.


Tags: Adelaide Forrest Bellandi Crime Syndicate Romance