“Dario, I have to get home. Go back to the meeting. I'll be fine. They didn't do anything.”
This time.
They sure looked like they wanted to, though.
“Cazzo.” He's never even been to Italy, but that doesn't stop him from trying to sound like Papa. Of course, Papa was actually born in Sicily. Dario's third generation American. It makes him sound like a pretentious fool. “Fine. But you'd better not be going back to one of those fucking college boys. You know what happens.”
Sure I do. Once I shared a picture on social media from a party, and Dario had one of the guys in the background roughed up without me knowing. Not until I found out he was in the hospital with a concussion, two broken ribs and three missing teeth. I didn't even really know the guy. Now I only post selfies and food.
“No boys, okay. Just leave me alone.”
He laughs at my back. “One day, bella mia, you'll be mine. I'll put babies in you, and keep you at home where no one but me can look at you. This life isn't right for you.” His words send chills down my spine. If he ever gets his way, I'll be locked away for the rest of my life.
The Fabbris and the Giordanos have always been uneasy bedpartners in the Family. Dario's their golden boy, the son who can do no wrong. He's been infatuated with me since we were kids, and while most of the Family thinks it's sweet, I know better. It's not love, it's some kind of psychotic fantasy of possession. But he's their rising star, and the Fabbris refuse to acknowledge how off he is. They don't realize how deep it goes, not like I do.
The door opens again, and Nicholas, never far from Dario’s side, speaks. “Your father wants you back at the meeting.”
“I'm coming now. Are the cars ready?” And with that, the shadow of Dario's attention moves away from me.
He claims his obsession is love, but it’s not. My parents loved each other. Dario only loves himself, and the idea of me obeying his every whim because his family has convinced him that marrying a Giordano would give them control of both branches.
I glance over my shoulder to see Nicholas nod. Cars? What's he up to?
“They are,” confirms Nicholas. “Ready to roll out as soon as they do.”
“Good. They'll never make it home.” The confidence in Dario's voice is scary, and he must be talking about the bikers. Whatever he's planning, it's going to be deadly. If he’s willing to put a random guy from a picture in the hospital, he won’t stop there with the Screaming Eagles.
Clutching the cart harder, I move again before he realizes that I overheard. Maybe he doesn't care. He's got no reason to think I'm connected to them.
The guys can take care of themselves, right? Mafia and bikers are always at each other's throats. It's not like I formed a lasting commitment with Viking and the others, even if that night was unforgettable.
God, of course I formed a lasting commitment.
We made a freaking baby. But if they don't know, does it count?
It counts to me.
Blood is thicker than water, but their blood runs in the veins of the most precious person in my life. What kind of a horrible person would I be if I let Dario kill my baby's daddy?
I have to warn them, but how? It's not like I can interrupt the meeting to announce what Dario's planning.
The door to the meeting room opens again and this time it's Diana, my cousin. She sees me and cocks her head. “You okay? You ran out of there like you saw a ghost. Is it because of your mom? Papa shouldn’t have demanded you be here, too.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’m just a little rattled, that’s all. Can you take this back? I need to go to the bathroom for a second.”
“No problem. I’ll take everything back to the kitchen.”
I’m no good at this. I hate all the lying and scheming in this place. I don’t even have the guys' phone numbers so I could text them a warning. It wasn't like I ever expected to see them again, and last time I tried to get in touch with them I got laughed at.
I always assumed I’d find a way eventually, but it'll never happen if they die on the way home. I shut the bathroom door behind me, take a few moments to breathe, and try to think. Maybe I can drop a note near them without anyone noticing. Or trick one of them to step away from the meeting somehow?
What do I do?
Okay. I’m not going to find the answer in here. I have to do something. After splashing my face with some cold water, I take a deep breath and open the door, determined to at least do my best.