He pauses, bringing his cup to his mouth. His gaze rushes over my face as if he’s checking I’m still the same woman.
“No. We don’t tell them anything. You do.”
“I'm. . . I'm not sure if. . .” His brow furrows, undisclosed emotions stored inside his eyes. “It's just—” He grabs at my chin, lifting it so he can stare down at me.
“You will tell them, Hope,” he mutters. “You will tell them you're their sister only, and then we'll see how that shit plays out. The rest of the. . . information stays with me.” Treachery, he means. He flicks my chin away and walks out onto the deck, eyes tilted back at me over his shoulder. “Tomorrow night, yes?”
I nod. Yes.
We don’t speak for much more of the day. As much as I love the house, I hate seeing it so messed up. “Benjamin, do you have someone who takes care of this place? Can I arrange for them to come in and fix some of the damage?”
“I’ll see to it.” His phone has been glued to his hand for the rest of the afternoon. We’ve barely eaten, and after the last few days, my muscles and body are screaming at me to nourish them. My legs are restless. I’ve not run for the past couple of days, and I can feel it.
“The hell are you hovering around me for?”
“I’m sorry. We’re kind of in unusual territory.”
He looks at me, a frown coming, and then turns away to look out through the window towards the drive.
“Go for a run, Hope. The beach is safe. We can head back to the city later on. Get something to eat and then face the world tomorrow.” It sounds like a perfect plan, one that makes a small smile come to my face for the first time since I've been here. “Because tomorrow night I’ll need you back to the woman I can depend on. And Cane will be there. You'll need to hide everything that happened between us here.” He swings back to face me, coffee rising to his lips. “Bury it as if you never told me. Understand?”
I nod. This is where I can start making up for my deceit. The woman I was before Cane came into our lives is exactly who I was. And now Benjamin knows my secret, I have the strength to stand up to my brothers. As long as I have him, I can do anything.
Twenty-Three
My father’s beads slip over my wrist and I move to tighten my watch. The last thing either of us needs after these last few days is what we’re about to do, but it’s the one event I attend every year without fail. No one’s telling me otherwise. No possible threat. No scaremongering. No Yakuza scum on a trail for revenge, if they fucking dare. Fuck them. This is the one tradition my father honoured before me, and I carry on in his memory.Charity begins at home, he’d say. Yeah, well, there’s not much charitable about me, wasn’t in him either, but he always tried to give something back, an offer of peace to the poor in his neighborhood.
“Nice.”
My eyes swing back to the sound of her voice in the doorway, no emotion to show I’m the slightest bit interested in how fucking good she looks. She walks over, hands coming up to straighten my lapels.
“You always did look good in a tux,” she says, running her fingers across the silk. I stare at her as she does it, enjoying the edginess she’s trying to hide.
She looks pretty, sexy as fuck if I’m truthful with myself. Hair piled up, black dress clinging to all the right places, and more of those diamonds showing her worth. “The car’s downstairs.”
“You got your game head on?” I ask. She nods, saying nothing more as she leaves me, and heads out of the bedroom.
She’ll need it. She’ll need to be clear minded and focused for tonight’s event. They’ll both be there with their wives in tow, both of them thinking they’ll have a good night out at the fight. I walk out after her, reaching for my gun and holstering it beneath my suit. The move has me snorting as I reach for the main door, amused at what my life has become lately. Doesn’t seem so long ago I never bothered to carry. Guess that time’s passed now, relegated to a life I thought I wanted. Maybe I still do.
“You okay?” she asks, grabbing her bag and sweeping past me into the hall. Areweokay is what she means. No, we're not, but for tonight we have to be in front of Cane and the rest of the world. After that, fuck knows.
I slip an arm around her waist and keep moving towards the elevator, unsure if anything about us will ever be okay again. Life’s changed. Everything has. Her especially.
The doorman nods as we exit the elevator, bidding us a good night. A good night? I suppose a family gathering is a good night, not that the rest of the family know what’s coming for them yet. How I’d feel if someone told me they were my half sibling, I don't know. Might have some out there, I suppose. My father was no goddamn angel either.
“You look pretty,” I offer, holding the car door open for her.
That should be answer enough as to whether we’re okay or not. It’s all I’ve got to give her at the moment. I'm still half tempted to show her how pissing me off ends up for those who try it, but then that other part of me stops, changing the direction in my head.
I slam the door behind her and head around the other side, glaring at the fucking world for its intrusion into my life. Blood, guns, treachery, deceit. Lies are not something I forgive easily, nor are they excused by simply revealing the truth. It’ll take a while before this shit disappears from my thoughts, no matter how much I seem to be in love with her.
* * *
Lights blind me as I grab hold of her hand and hold her steady in my grip. She blinks at me for a few seconds as she gets out of the car, refocusing as the cameras take their shots for the daily rags. We’ll be all over them tomorrow, our faces showing the world how important I’ve become. Benjamin Vico—business man, philanthropist. Another round of cash tossed into the masses to prove that decency I’ve aimed for.
I smile at her and link our fingers, turning us up the red carpet and waving Torino and Eddie off. We won’t need them here. There’s more security lying around than even I can muster. Politicians. New York’s finest businessmen. Even the fucking mayor will turn up soon. He’s a dick, but he’s a dick who owes me favours. Always useful in this city.
Her eyes sweep the crowd, body moulding into perfect angles for pictures to make us appear charitable and giving. I chuckle at that and search for those Cane boys in the crowds, already bored with the pretence she offers so easily. My brow furrows at the thought as we wander through the foyer. I used to enjoy that about her, found it amusing. Not now, though. Now I want real. Honest.
