Being in Luca’s arms felt like betrayal. Her past rose up viciously, uninvited. Kentrell revealed to her who he was after he called himself saving her. The Bonetti Mafia hadn’t just taken lives, they had hollowed her childhood, carved it out and left her with rage where innocence should have been.
Didn’t matter anymore to La’Nova which Bonetti did what to her. Out of all of them there was one who did enough damage that changed her life. While she saw the good in Lucille and knew she had no hand in messing up her life since she was once a victim, being in Luca’s arms with his seeds spilling down her legs was enough to make her feel shameful.
Shameful because she loved every minute of the intense intimacy that they just shared. She was even more shameful that she felt so secure and content crying in his arms right now. Her tears soaked into his shoulder as the contradiction of everything tore her apart.
How could safety feel like this when it wore the face of my enemy?
She pulled back from Luca just enough to speak; her voice cracked under the weight of the truth she didn’t want to say because it would ruin her overall plan.
“You shouldn’t—” She swallowed hard, tears spilling more rapidly. “You probably deserve someone better… Someone…untouched by a painful past. Another woman would be good enough for you, Luca… Anyone but me,” she whispered the last bit of her words.
Luca’s hand came up to cradle her head gently. His thumbs brushed away her tears. La’Nova’s world was spinning so fast as her anxiety and fear of the cold reality of her situation got the best of her.
“No,” Luca whispered, not breaking eye contact. “There is no other woman… I feel something strong enough to cure the demons inside of me with you.” He pulled her back close with certainty beating throughout his heart and mind.
His truthful words whispered like a sickness to her. The universe had a twisted sense of humor. It gave her possible love wrapped in the very name she secretly hunted until she felt the time was right. Luca gave her tenderness born from the same mafia that had taken everything from her.
La’Nova held him tighter, knowing she was clinging to both her salvation and her damnation and wondered how cruel fate had to be to make them feel identical.
Chapter 9
The dreadful past…
La’Nova was nine years old, sitting cross-legged on her light lavender fluffy rug in her bedroom. In front of her was a Bratz doll coloring book. She only had about two pages left to color out of the one hundred pages she flew through in under a week.
She had four different purples in front of her; the bright purple crayon was worn down to a nub between her little artistic fingers. La’Nova carefully filled in Yasmin’s jacket, staying inside the lines the way her mother always told her to do. Her room smelled like crayons and clean laundry before the smell from downstairs drifted through the vents into her room.
Today was Sunday, a day that La’Nova enjoyed the most. The smell of fried onions, garlic, and something else savory mixed with seasonings made her stomach rumble. She hummed to herself, quiet and contently. After thirty minutes of coloring, La’Nova changed her position, laying on her stomach with her legs kicking in the air as she traced the edges of Yazmin’s pants with perfect precision.
La’Nova was making sure that this particular picture she colored would be perfect. She was almost done and couldn’t wait to proudly show her mom and dad. Both of her parents were always super geeked about her coloring and drawing. She won countless of kids coloring and drawing competitions. La’Nova was fascinated with coloring. She loved colors, but most of all her favorite color was purple and all the different shades it came in.
Boom!!!!!!!
The sound detonated through the house like a sonic bomb. The walls shook violently. The ceiling creaked. Her favorite framed picture of her and her parents on vacation fell off her wall, hitting her dresser which caused it to shatter before landing on her floor. La’Nova screamed, her crayon snapped in her hand as fear slammed into her chest so hard it knocked the air out of her lungs.
“Mama?” She called, voice trembling.
Hearing no answer, her heart rate sped up as she slowly stood. Standing by her door, she listened to the heavy footsteps and a lot of loud shouting. A raspy deep voice caught her attention as she crept out of her room door. The hallway felt longer than it ever had; it was also dimmer, stretched thin by fear clogged in her throat. She edged forward, breath shallow with one hand pressed against the wall for balance.
She crouched low on the side of the steps and saw everything that a nine-year-old should never witness. To her, she was looking at two strange men standing tall in her parent’s living room. They wore dark suits with grim looks plastered on their tight faces. Behind them were several men in all black guarding the door with guns in their right hands.
One of the main men looked very demonic. His eyes were pitch black, hair slicked into a low ponytail that stopped mid-back. In his hand was a mini axe. The other man looked calm from his posture; his facial features were relaxed but didn’t take away from the dangerous look he had. La’Nova had no clue that the Bonetti Mafia was standing right before her eyes.
The man with the axe was Lennox Bonetti, and the other man with a Ruger handgun was Dontrell Bonetti. Her knees went weak when she saw her father drop down to his knees in defeat. Slowly, he raised his hands above his head, and her mother Alisa followed the surrendering action.
Blood trickled from her father’s mouth, dripping onto the carpet that her mom vacuumed thoroughly every Sunday morning. His eyes were wide, wet, and desperate. Her father, the same man who carried her on his shoulders to take her to bed and read her bedtime stories about her favorite princesses was crying. That was a sight she’d never seen before, and it had her petrified.
“Please,” her father Richard begged, voice cracking. “Please, I just need more time, Donnie. I’ll get it, I swear I will.”
Lennox laughed tauntingly, his legs were far apart as he rocked from side to side. Slowly he tilted his head from left to right like he was under a spell. His pink tongue darted across his black lips like he couldn’t wait to taste blood. Out of both of the Bonetti brothers, Dontrell was the more reasonable one with principals and morals. Richard only looked at Dontrell, not wanting to give his attention to Lennox.
“You been saying that for about three months too long,” Dontrell said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I understand you have a beautiful wife and daughter…” Dontrell paused and looked up at the steps.
La’Nova’s breath got caught in her throat when Dontrell’s dark eyes captured hers. She thought she was out of sight while squatting at the side of the steps. But Dontrell never missed a beat when getting his hands dirty.
“What you don’t understand is that I have a family too, Richard. Two sons by my beautiful wife Lucille… and a couple of outside babies that I make sure have nothing but the best. I’m always a man of my word…Any man I do business with…I expect them to be the same.” Dontrell gave one of his short speeches.
