Page 81 of Now and Forever

“Okay, Dario. I really like your place.”

I stood, looking around at what had been nothing more than a place to rest and suddenly seeing it as more. “I’m glad you do. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to live here.”

Jasmine reached for her sister’s hand and looked up. “Josie, he’s not going to kick us out.”

Despite Josie’s voice sounding strong for her sister, I sensed her trepidation. “We can take it one day at a time.”

Armando told me where Josie and Jasmine lived when he took Josie to pick up some of her things. There was no chance of me allowing the two of them to go back to that crime-ridden neighborhood or small, infested apartment.

I wanted to talk to Josie alone, to tell her that Minx would no longer be a problem and to confess that I was a bad man. Maybe she wouldn’t want me around a child such as Jasmine. I cleared my throat. “Jasmine, do you know if Contessa has started dinner?”

She shook her head, and her eyes opened in wonder. “We can eat here too?”

“Yes,” I said with a scoff. Contessa was over the moon at the prospect of Josie and Jasmine. “Why don’t you go ask her? I bet she’d like to have your help.”

“Cook?” Jasmine bounced and looked up at me. “Sometimes Marianne lets me help.”

Josie replied, “I think Contessa is still in your room.”

Jasmine bounded back up the stairs in the only home she knew from that day until recently, when I sent her away to college. She remained in my home until after her high school graduation, a full year after Josie’s death.

A month before my wedding, I moved her to New York. While hoping to keep my way of life away from her, I didn’t send her alone. She had a bodyguard. Now, seeing her with bruises, despite her red hair, I saw Josie all over again.

Once again, I wanted blood.

Inhaling, Jasmine turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Dario. I know you don’t want me here with her.”

Her.

Catalina.

“Jasmine, you’re always welcome. I’ve told my wife about Josie.”

“But not about me?” Her eyes were down.

Walking closer, I lifted her chin. Her left cheek was swollen and a shade of purple. Her upper lip was crusted with dried blood. I’d seen the bruises on her arms and abrasions on her hands. She’d fought and that made me proud.

I concentrated on her blue stare. “I will. I’ll talk to her, and Armando will make sure you’re safe. You have to tell us who did this to you.”

“I don’t know,” she half said and half cried. “He was in my apartment.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled. Her apartment was the best money could buy with top security. “Where was Piero?” I looked at Armando. Piero was Jasmine’s bodyguard. He and I had already had words after Jasmine showed up at the wedding on Aléjandro Roríguez’s arm.

“He’s downstairs, boss,” Armando said. “He swears he was drugged.” Armando shook his head. “When he woke up, he heard the commotion and fought the guy off, thought he shot him. Piero said he could have gone after the assailant, but Jasmine was hurt. He chose to stay with her. They packed a few things and spent the night driving here.”

Fuck. It was a nineteen-hour drive.

“Why not fly?”

Jasmine answered, “I was afraid to fly, looking like this. I didn’t want the police involved.”

That way of thinking was my fault. The average person would go to the police first thing. Jasmine knew I would handle things my way and do my damnedest to get justice—my kind of justice. My forehead furrowed. “Was anything taken?”

Jasmine shook her head. “It’s like all he wanted to do was hurt and scare me.”

“You didn’t see a face?”

“No. He wore a ski mask.”

---