Angelo examines the inspector across the room, and I can tell he knows him. It’s not surprising, given that theCosa Nostraoften has dealings with the city, and he’s the currentdon.
“I’ll talk to them,” he tells us. But before he can, his phone rings, and his attention shifts as he checks the screen.
“Give me a minute.” He answers the call and drifts out of earshot, pacing toward the windows as he speaks quietly with whoever’s on the other line.
Abella watches him briefly with a curious expression before she turns back to me.
“Have you called your stepfather yet?” she asks, trying to hide her grimace.
I shake my head, not even able to think about that right now. My family might only live twenty minutes away, but the thought of being back under their roof fills me with dread. Unlike mostparents in the Mafia who prefer to keep a tight leash on their daughters, mine couldn’t wait to get me out of the house.
In the hierarchy of theCosa Nostra, Michael ranks closer to the bottom than the top—working as muscle rather than brains. If it were up to him, he probably would have married me off at eighteen. But there are certain expectations in our world, and Michael is far too vain about his image to buck tradition. It’s considered distasteful to marry your daughter off without at least some education.
Fortunately for me, someone reached out to let my family know a college fund had been discovered. Apparently, my paternal grandfather kept an account to cover my education, and nobody ever knew about it. Michael didn’t have to pay a cent, and there was even enough to cover my off-campus apartment. This way, I only have to see my family on specific occasions, which are few and far between.
It’s a system that’s worked for all of us, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. But with the school year already started, I’m unlikely to find another place in the same price range.
As I’m trying to think of another alternative, Angelo ends his call and returns to our group. Tension lingers in his features as his dark gaze falls on me.
“Gabi, we’ll help you gather what you need for tonight. I’ll send someone to get the rest of your things in the morning.”
Panic flares at the realization that he’s probably taking me back to my family.
“I haven’t told my stepfather yet,” I blurt. “I don’t know if he wants me there.”
“We’ll take you to the penthouse tonight,” Angelo says. “I’ll talk to Michael and let him know you’ll be staying there for the rest of the school year.”
A shaky breath escapes me as I consider the generous offer. It would be an ideal situation, but I’ve spent my entire life feeling like a burden, and it isn’t easy for me to accept help.
“I don’t want to impose,” I answer softly.
“You aren’t,” Abella assures me. “We hardly ever use it, and even if we do need it, there’s plenty of space for all of us.”
That much is true. The Vitales own properties around the world, but their primary residence is a private island outside Seattle. They only ever use the penthouse when they’re in the city for events that run late, and it’s easier to stay the night.
“Don’t overthink it.” Abella rises and gestures for me to join her. “We’ll get you some clothes and toiletries, and Angelo will take care of everything else.”
I nod at her, grateful that she’s here right now. Abella knows me better than anyone, and though we’re family, we’ve always been best friends too.
People have often confused us for sisters because we share similar features. We both have black hair, green eyes, and short statures, but there are a few notable differences between us. Abella’s complexion is more olive than mine, and while I have dimples and freckles, she doesn’t. I prefer a layered mid-length cut with wispy bangs, and Abella’s hair is long, dipping all the way down to the small of her back.
She’s always been my biggest cheerleader and fiercest protector. For a few years, her mother took care of me, and I spent most of my summers and breaks with them after that. She knows how tense the situation is with my family, but she would never offer me her help out of pity. Her motives are always pure, and I know they come from a place of love.
For that reason, I go along with it as she leads me to the elevator, the men trailing behind us.
Twenty minutes later, the four of us emerge from the building with a few bags and all of my bedding. A sleek blackVitale car idles at the curb as Angelo loads the trunk. When he shifts one of the bags and notices the giant stuffed teddy bear poking out, I can’t help feeling a little embarrassed. I tried to hide it, but it’s not an easy task.
I just hope he doesn’t recognize it—or more importantly, remember who won it for me. Unfortunately, Abella gives it away when she shoots me a look.
“I use it as a body pillow,” I answer defensively. “It’s comfortable.”
Sadness creeps into her features as she nods, and my throat tightens as I look away.
Searching for a distraction, I glance at a flickering street light across the parking lot. It’s still early evening, but fall seems to have officially settled over Seattle as darkness descends earlier each day.
A lone figure leans against one of the concrete pillars near the parking garage, smoke curling in the air around him. His features are hidden by the shadows, but I can tell he’s watching us.
Every time I see a man with no discernible face, it reminds me of Eros415. There have been moments I’ve wondered how often I’ve crossed his path on campus without even realizing it. If I did, I wouldn’t know it. He’s seen my picture, but all I know of him is a Ghostface mask and a username.
