I reach for Natalia. “Come here, baby.” She buries herself in my arms, and I give her a tight squeeze. “You have to stay safe,” I whisper to her. “Don’t scare Uncle Santo.”

  A bell rings, a signal we haven’t used in years. I hand Natalia back to Rosa and rise.

  Mama used to ring the dinner bell to call us down from homework or the yard or the workout room, but now the few family meals we have are scheduled.

  Tavi wants us in the Great Hall.

  “You two sit with me,” I tell them. “And Natalia?”

  She looks at me, those pretty eyes just like her Mama’s. “Yes?”

  “If you want a dog, I’ll get you the softest, prettiest little puppy so little you could put her in your pocket, okay?”

  Her eyes light up.

  “Santo,” Rosa groans. “You could ask me first.”

  I shrug. “I know how to train dogs. It’s a cakewalk.”

  Rosa shakes her head as we enter the Great Hall and whispers so no one else hears, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re heartless, Uncle Santo. No one. You may have a Grinch-sized heart, but it still beats.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rosa

  I yawn in exhaustion, still sitting on one of the hardback chairs in the Great Hall.

  Tavi filled everyone in on what happened today, told us he was in touch with the lawyer, Flynt, and that we’d have a meeting of the inner sanctum the very next day, after the arrival of the Montavio reinforcements.

  “We expect another attack, and any minute,” Tavi says as we all look to him. “So we stay on soft lockdown until we’re clear, or have to move to hard lockdown.”

  “You hear from Romeo yet?” Vittoria asks.

  “No, but it takes some time to get everything sorted. I promise you, Vittoria, you’re the first person we’ll notify if anything comes up.”

  “Is he guilty, Tavi?”

  These are questions she’s allowed to ask, questions all made men and women of The Family are allowed to know.

  “I’ll fill you in later, Vittoria, but no. He’s kept himself squeaky clean.”

  Staff and the goddamn nanny I’ll fire as soon as we’re finished have not been allowed in.

  I can’t believe she let my daughter near those vicious dogs. I’ve seen them attack.

  “Tavi?” Mama asks. We all look to her. Only my mother and grandmother interrupt Romeo or Tavi when they’re addressing the group.

  “Yes, Mama?” Tavi asks. His jaw tightens but he’s being patient with her.

  “Why are the dogs in the house?” We all know how she feels about them. “They tried to attack my granddaughter.”

  “Your granddaughter knows better than to get anywhere near those dogs,” I interrupt. I will not let Natalia think for a minute she got away with that. Santo’s eyes are cold, but he nods in agreement with me.

  “Rosa!” Mama says. “They could’ve hurt her.’

  I keep my own voice tight. “Which is why she will never, ever get within ten feet of them again. Will you, Natalia?”

  She shakes her head and looks properly abashed. I heard that dressing down Santo gave her and fully support him.

  “The dogs are outside by the front entrance as added security. They are well trained. And yes, they’re dangerous, but the children will be kept away. This is only temporary, until the Montavio family arrives, which should be within the hour.”

  Mario snorts. “I love that the Montavios are replacements for our guard dogs.”

  Laughter erupts in the room, and I breathe a sigh of relief. We all needed that.

  “Fitting,” Orlando says, running a hand through his hair, referencing the pit bull-like ferocity of our cousins. “We done here, Tavi?”

  Tavi nods. “We’ll reconvene when the Montavios join us.” He looks to Mama. “Mama—”

  But Mama is already on her feet, joined by Nonna.

  The Montavios are my mother’s family. She’ll be eager to feed them. Nonna married into the Montavio family, and though she didn’t care for her husband, she likes the Montavios.

  It’s getting late, but they’ll have a welcome spread. I’d join them, but tonight I want to be with Natalia.

  While most families of our caliber have hired chefs and the like, Mama and Nonna prefer to make every scrap of food we eat by hand. I dabble a bit but don’t cook as much. Tavi’s Elise, however, loves it.

  I always thought when I was younger Mama and Nonna did our cooking because they liked feeding us. Now I know it’s also because they know no one can poison the food they prepare.

  Yeah, my family’s something else.

  “Before we adjourn,” Tavi says. “I want to go over where everyone will be at all times. No one goes outside The Castle until I lift the lockdown. We’ll remain on the first and second floors of The Castle only.” So no one will be allowed to go to the chapel or wine cellar. “Orlando will be with Angelina and Nicolo. Their nanny’s been sent home for the night. Their guards will be with them as well. Elise is, obviously, with me and our guards. Mario will take main guard over Mama and Marialena. Nonna has her own guard, and Vittoria hers as well.” He looks to Santo. “You’ll take Natalia and Rosa to their rooms. You’ll take the nanny’s quarters.”

  My heartbeat spikes, but I keep my face placid.

  Santo nods and stands. We’ll have an attached room, then. He’ll be right on the other side of the door.

  “Santo, before they go upstairs, I want you to be the one that dismisses her nanny. Give her six months’ severance and an escorted armored car to accommodations. She leaves tonight. I’ll call everyone down after the Montavios arrive.”

  I clench my jaw. I wanted to be the one that did it, but I know it’s probably wise that it’s Santo. She won’t cry or beg for her job if Santo does it.

  “Mama?” Natalia holds onto my dress and looks up to me. I look at her large, luminous eyes and hold her to me.

  “Yes?”

  “Can I stay with Aunt Vittoria tonight?” She looks to Vittoria, who sits alone at the table, nursing a glass of sparkling water. “She’s lonely. Uncle Romeo isn’t home.” We kept the part about him being taken into custody away from her.

  Vittoria looks up at us and smiles sadly. She has a pullout sofa in the little sitting room upstairs where Natalia often spends the night. I can’t ask her to take Natalia for the night. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking. Feeling. There were many times when I was a child my father was taken into custody, but my parents weren’t as close as Romeo and Vittoria are. I think when my father was arrested, all of us actually were relieved.

  “Hey, girls,” she says, as Nonna and Mama clang in the kitchen and everyone packs it up for the night. “I was thinking. I really don’t want to be alone tonight. Do you think Natalia could spend the night?”

  Natalia’s eyes light up and she pulls my arm to her excitedly. “Please, Mama?”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, Vittoria,” I begin, but Vittoria only shakes her head and smiles softly.

  “We’ll watch that new Disney movie,” she says. “And pop popcorn.”

  It’s nearing Natalia’s bedtime, but I know she’ll want to stay up late for their sleepover. And maybe a night with popcorn and a children’s movie will keep Vittoria’s mind off things for a little while.

  “Oooh,” Marialena says, joining them. “I’ll join you. Pretty please? Nat, we can wear those new pjs we bought.”

  “Of course,” I tell them. I mean, they’ll only be right down the hall from me.

  From… us.

  I look over at Santo, all six foot whatever of tall, muscled, tatted, brooding male.

  There will be nothing but a thin wall between us, hardly anything at all.

  The rooms we occupy don’t have cameras in them like every other inch of this house. When Romeo first came into the throne, it was only his room that went dark, but he soon granted us all the privilege as well. Said he didn’t need to know what his siblings did behind closed doors, and any threat to our safety would be captured on camera outside the doors and windows.

  No footage.

  No cameras.

  Nobody watching.

  My brother’s been arrested, and my family’s in lockdown. Santo’s car was blown up. We expect another attack at any moment.

  And all I can think about is that I get to spend the next—however many—days and nights in close proximity to him.

  Off the radar.

  Tavi never would’ve assigned him to watch over me if he didn’t completely trust him. He did, of course, position us in such a way that we’ll have two rooms with separate entrances.

  Like that matters.

  I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.

  I shiver.

  “Cold, Rosa?”

  I jump. Santo’s so close to me his breath ruffles my hair.

  “Yeah,” I say on a sigh. “It’s been a long day.”

  “It has.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, and for one moment I imagine it’s to stop himself from touching me. Placing his hand right there, on the small of my back to give me comfort. Sweeping my hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ear.

  But no one can ever see how we feel about each other.

  No one.

  Even Mama would lose her mind. They all would. And I can’t imagine the punishment he’d earn for betrayal that deep.

  I let my eyes rove over the strong forearms covered in ink, the way his shirt stretches over his biceps. He’s gotten new ink, and lots of it.

  I like.

  “Where’s Natalia?” He looks around the room.

  “She’s, uh… she’s having a sleepover with Vittoria and Lena. They’re watching a Disney movie or something.” I feign a yawn. “We should go upstairs. Damn, I’m tired.”

  I look away from him so I don’t see the flare of heat in his eyes when he realizes we’ll be alone tonight.

  “I’m checking all the locks first.”

  “Tavi ask you to?”

  One quick shake of his head. “No, but Tavi’s got a lot on his mind.”

  My heart does a little twirl. I have this strange, inexplicable attraction to competence. Competence porn. Sigh.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  He jerks his head at me wordlessly to follow. I swallow hard.

  “You staying up for the Montavios?” I ask, as he heads to the back door by the kitchen. “I’ll see them in the morning.” Tavi will want to get right down to business, and I wasn’t lying when I said I was tired.

  “Yeah, I’ll be back down to see them. After I get you settled.”

  My heart beats faster.

  After I get you settled, like he has to tuck me in bed and pull up the covers first.

  Oh, Santo.

  Santo.

  I’ve missed him so much. I’ve missed what we had.

  I’ve missed who I was when I was with him.

  We’ve never had any kind of relationship anyone else could know about. We were discreet, and we were cautious.

  Most of the time.

  But even if we’d never touched each other… even if we’d never gone to the places where we did… we shared a bond I imagine no one else has. Something just between the two of us.

  We walk in silence up the carpeted steps and land on the second floor, where my room and Natalia’s are. We live sometimes here and sometimes in Tuscany, though I spend more time here since Santo’s exile.

  Not of my own choice, though. I need to keep him safe.

  As our footsteps reach the landing, I talk out loud, in case anyone’s listening. I know the cameras are trained on every doorway, I know that guards are in the shadows.

  “I’ll have your sheets changed and make sure you have everything you need.”

  He nods. “Thank you. I’ll get what I need from my room.”

  He steps aside when we reach the doorway and lets me open the door.

  My heart beats faster.

  A part of me’s on edge, as if holding my breath, like Tavi or Orlando or someone will come around the corner and point their fingers at us. “Traitors! Liars!”

  As if.

  And yet…

  And yet I’m nervous about what might happen next. Maybe a small part of me hopes someone will stop us. Fate’s thrown us in close proximity… and I fear what will happen without an ocean between us. With nothing but principles and rules between us.

  Santo and I have no future together, and we both know that. At any moment, Romeo could arrange for me to be married to someone and eventually will. Though I’m not as exclusive a commodity as Marialena, in her untouched virginity—God—I am a Rossi, and that means something. Marriage to me would strengthen any family we joined forces with.

  I open the door to my room and enter, and he follows behind me. Even if I didn’t know he was there, I could… feel him.

  I can’t look at him. I can’t even make eye contact.

  My heart races as I turn the lock, my fingers trembling on the cold metal. Downstairs, I hear cars approaching the house. Santo immediately stalks to the window and opens the shade.

  “Montavios have arrived early, looks like.”

  I join him. Our elbows brush each other. “Ah, just a few. They’re not all here yet. Some come from further away than others. They’re party animals, you know.”

  “Oh, I know,” he says with a laugh. I give him a sharp look. Is there a reason for that comment?

  “Don’t get your panties all in a wad, baby,” he says, drawing the shade back down. “Jesus, I didn’t bang your cousins.”

  Yet. Hmph.

  Maybe he doesn’t remember how lovely they are. Mama comes from strong stock.

  Our rooms here are large and expansive, Natalia’s and the nanny’s all attached to mine. The nanny’s door’s shut tight.

  “Let me have a word with her,” Santo says, his heavy brows drawing together over piercing eyes. I almost feel bad for the girl, until I remember in my negligence that she allowed my daughter into danger.

  And I don’t feel so badly anymore.

  “Go,” I say with a nod. “Should I join you?”

  “Better if you don’t.”

  “Alright, then. Good. I’m going to take a shower.”

  His eyes drag lazily from my face to my bare chest. Across my cleavage. To my slim waist and curvy hips, before dragging back up to my eyes.

  “Go, baby,” he whispers. “Go shower.”

  I hitch in a breath when he reaches a finger to my cheek, the mere ghost of a touch, before he turns away, straightens his shoulders, and heads to the other room.

  I don’t release my breath until the door shuts.

  I look around the rooms. Impeccably tidy, thanks to twice-daily housekeeping. I love having my space clean. There’s a window in the large sitting room that overlooks the stone wall, the ocean churning and crashing behind it. We had this wing outfitted with comfortable Italian leather furniture and a plush, vibrant carpet. Simple but bold art adorns the walls, chosen by Mama and Marialena when we remodeled this wing.

  I have a small but functional kitchenette, where I make our tea and small meals when we’re not eating with the rest of the family. A short distance from the kitchenette is the door that leads to my room and the bathroom.

  I have a white desk in the corner of my room with a matching white leather chair. I’ve always liked white. Maybe because it’s a sign of purity, something I’ve always craved but never could quite have. Not when you have a family like mine.

  My notebooks and laptop, pens and paperwork sit in neat piles and bins, beside a small bookshelf with my favorite books.

  It’s a simple, well-furnished place, but I much prefer Tuscany. It feels… stifling here. Too stifling.

  I kick off my heels, pick them up, and carry them to the walk-in closet. I wipe them clean and neatly place them on a rack before I head to the bathroom. I step out of my clothes and put them into the laundry hamper before I reach for a soft, sky-blue satin robe. I breathe a sigh of relief. It feels so good to relax.

  If I didn’t want to see Santo before he has his late-night meeting, I’d treat myself to a bath. But now there’s no time.

  I head to the bathroom and start the water, grab a handful of shower salts, and toss them on the floor in the line of water. A gentle, relaxing scent of lavender and vanilla fills the air, and the steam in the room comforts me. I hang my robe up and step into the hot, steaming shower.

  All the while, I’m listening for him. I’m wondering how things went with the nanny.

  I’m wondering how things will go with us.

  I spin under the steady stream of warm water but pull a shower cap on to keep my hair dry while I lather up my legs and begin to shave.

  The sound of a turning doorknob makes me freeze with my hand outstretched to a bar of soap.

  He wouldn’t.

  Would he?

  The bathroom door opens. I can see his shadow silhouetted on the frosted glass.

  “Hey!”

  “Hey.”

  “That was not a hey in greeting. That was a hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing? hey.”

  He grunts in response, shuts the door behind him, and sits on the closed toilet lid.

  “Ah, hello?”

  He doesn’t respond.

  “Santo,” I whisper.

  “Rosa,” he whispers back.

  I crack open the shower door and peek out. “How’d it go with the nanny?”

  He shrugs. “She’s gone.”

  “She take it okay?”

  “Kind of.”

  I don’t push any further. Closing the shower door, I rinse the soap off my body and change the subject.

  “What are you doing in here?” My words are swallowed up by steam.

  “Watching you,” he retorts.

  “I don’t think this is the type of watching Tavi had in mind.”

  “He didn’t specify.”

  Oh God. Oh God.

  “Pretty sure I’m safe in here.”

  “You are now.”

  Why does that make tears well up in my eyes?

  With trembling hands, I finish shaving my legs and washing until I’m squeaky clean. I’m nervous about leaving. What will he do?

 

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