Arranged love

“After what was done?” I demand, but I already know the answer.

“Said all he had to do was give him time and location of the wedding. That he didn’t care if she was caught in the crossfire. That it would make him look good. Dead. Adopted daughter killed in a mass shooting at her own wedding. The press would eat it up.”

Motherfucker! My jaw clenches. “Why didn’t you come to me? Or her?” Anything would have been nice. I knew the risk the Mafia put my life in by the time I was eight. But Haven? I have to protect her no matter the cost.

“I tried to tell her at the spa, but your men interrupted us and took her away. She’s avoided me. That was the first chance I had. I was afraid that he would find out that I knew his and Rossi’s plan. I couldn’t chance putting Haven’s life in danger. Even now …” She sniffs. “If he found out that you knew he betrayed you? I don’t know what he would do to Haven.” Her wide eyes dart around the empty hallway.

I grab her hand and pull her toward the office.

“Luca. What are you …?”

I shove her into the office, and she gasps when she sees her husband bent over dead on the desk. He’s facedown, hands still pinned to the surface with the two knives. Bones stands behind him with his cell to his ear. “Make it fifteen minutes,” he orders and ends the call once he sees us.

“Oh my God.” Her shaky hands come to her face to cover her mouth. “Is he …?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “He was willing to put her life in danger. I couldn’t take that chance.”

She spins around and buries her head into my chest. “Thank you.” She begins to sob. “Thank you for saving her. I knew you would.”

Awkwardly, I rub her back. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

She looks up at me, her green eyes swimming in tears. Her cheeks red and lips swollen. She looks nothing like Haven. No one would ever guess she is her biological mother. And as much as I hate this woman for lying to Haven all her life, I have to protect her. I can’t let Rossi come after her too. “For what?”

“To pack a bag. You’re coming with me.”

HAVEN

“I DON’T BELIEVE you,” I say, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s pointless.

He gives me a sly smile that just twists the knife that is already piercing my heart. “Ask your mother. There is DNA evidence.”

I shake my head. “No …”

“How about you do one?” He opens his top drawer and pulls out a small baggie. Lifting his right hand, he pulls a piece of hair out of his head and places it in the bag before he zips it. “You can see for yourself.” He slides it across the desk. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

My stomach drops, and the hairs on my arms stand. It feels like a million little bugs are crawling over my skin. “I want nothing from you,” I whisper.

He gives a rough laugh. “Everyone wants something from me, Haven. Whether that be protection or money. And you are no exception.”

“Why now?” I hear myself asking but can’t find the courage to look up at him.

“Because you have something I want.”

Closing my eyes, a tear runs down my cheek.

“Haven.” His voice is soft yet firm and demands my attention.

I open my eyes and look up at him through watery lashes.

“No Rossi will marry a Bianchi.”

His words are final. Like a nail in a coffin. The last breath taken. I will die, and it will be soon. I know what kind of man he is. I may not know him personally, but he’s just like Luca and his family. They will take out who they want, and they don’t care who stands in their way.

“I know you don’t want to be with that bastard,” he spits out, his hatred for Luca showing. “Daddy is going to take care of your problem. You have nothing to worry about.”

I’m sitting on the balcony of our room, smoking a cigarette. My hair still wet from my shower and up in a clippie. I have a pair of his sweatpants and a T-shirt on. I don’t know where Luca went, but I haven’t cared enough to call or text him either.

So much has changed since this morning. Who I am? Where did I come from?

My father is Alberto Rossi. A mob boss who runs the South Side of Las Vegas. And I’m engaged to my ex, who just so happens to be his enemy.

My life is shit.

I take another drag from the cigarette and slowly blow out the smoke. Resting my head back, I hear the sliding glass door open.

Luca walks outside along with Nite and my mother. My jaw tightens at the look on her face. Her tear-streaked face. The proof she’s been upset.

Fuck her.

She wasn’t lied to all her life. Sentenced to death for loving the wrong man. In the end, we’ll all have to answer to God for our sins, but mine will be for falling in love. Since when should you go to hell for that?

“Why is she here?” I ask him.

“Your mother needs to talk you.” His answer is clipped. I’m not sure who he’s mad at more-her or me-but at this point, I don’t care.

I look at Nite. “Why is he here?” He’s supposed to be protecting Mia.

“Your two newest bodyguards are being burned as we speak, so he’s been assigned back to you.”

My mother gasps. I take another puff of my cigarette. Wonder if they were dead or alive when their bodies were set on fire?

“Haven?” She sucks in a long breath. “Since when did you start smoking?”

I can’t help it. I throw my head back laughing. Out of all the things that have happened in the past twenty-four hours, that’s what she wants to focus on.

“You need to talk to your mother,” Luca says.

I look up at him. Now he wants me to be social? “She lied to me all my life. Why would I listen to her now?”

She sits down beside me and reaches out for my hand, but I jerk it out of her reach.

“I had to protect you,” she whispers.

I snort and take a drag of the cigarette.

“Haven …?”

“Was any of it true?” I snap, unable to keep it in. I threw that stupid piece of hair away, but a part of me knew he was right. I just can’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me. I thought we were close.

She bows her head. “No.”

I lean forward in my seat. “Start from the beginning,” I demand, needing to know. When she stays silent, I help her out. “The miscarriages?”

“A lie,” she whispers.

Unbelievable. “Who the fuck lies about that?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she whispers.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Try me,” I snap.

She takes in a deep breath, and her shoulders fall. “Your grandfather … he wanted grandchildren. He wanted your father to have an heir.”

There’s that word again. Heir. “This is bullshit.” I stand.

“Haven.” She reaches up and grabs my wrist. “I … please sit.” Her eyes plead with me to give her a chance, to forgive her, but I’m not sure I can. No matter what she tells me, I’m not sure I can give her what she wants right now. “I’m begging you. Please. Just listen to the truth. I’ll leave afterward,” she assures me.

I look at Luca for help-reassurance that he will kick her out once she finally gives me what I should have known all along-but I don’t get the answer I want. He feels sorry for her. I can see it in his dark eyes. And pity for me. I hate it. Letting out a long breath, I plop back down into the chair next to her.

“Your father and I had an arranged marriage. He didn’t love me. I didn’t love him. The wedding was to forge two businesses as one. I felt lonely. He would never touch me, never look at me. He had different women over all the time. His father was pressuring us to have a family.” She swallows. “One night, I went out to a bar and got drunk. I met the owner, who just happened to be a guy I had seen around your father. He had been to our house before.”

I know who she’s talking about. Alberto Rossi. “They were friends?”

She gives a rough laugh and plucks the lit cigarette from my hand, taking a drag. My eyes widen. “I wouldn’t call them that. They did business together. He used your father’s bank to launder money.”

I look at Luca, and he runs a hand through his hair aggressively.

“Then what happened?” I ask.

She gives a wistful smile. “He treated me how my husband was supposed to, and I fell in love.”

Silence falls over the balcony. I look back up at Luca, and he turns, giving us his back as he looks out over Las Vegas, but his white-knuckled grip on the railing tells me he’s pissed. Nite stands over in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest, silently listening to us.

I shift in my seat and look back at my mom. “I don’t understand.”

“I opened up to him, and he let me cry on his shoulder. I found myself going back to that bar night after night just to see him. I just wanted to talk to him, but then one thing led to another. He told me all the right things. Three months later, I found out I was pregnant. I went to his bar and told him the news. I was going to have his baby, and I wanted to leave my useless husband.” She shakes her head. “It was all a lie.”

“How?” A lie?