“Ash, it’s me,” a familiar voice calls through the door.
She lets out a sigh of relief before standing, with me right behind her. “It’s just my brother.”
To her knowledge, I’ve never met her brother, but I know of his loyalty to her from what she has told me.
Ashley lifts onto her tiptoes to look through the peephole before opening the door.
“I don’t think you two could be any fucking stupider. You need to leave with me now, Ashley,” Micah practically growls, eyeing Ashley’s disheveled hair. “Someone is holding your constant defiance over Dad’s head and he’s livid.”
I rub my chest at his words, trying to relieve the nagging ache that has been plaguing me all night.
Micah’s attention turns to me, and my heart sinks when I take in his expression. “Trent, I suggest you do as we discussed.”
Ashley’s gaze flits between her brother and me, her brow furrowing. “What did you discuss? And when did you meet?”
“Now is not the time… Just know, we both have your best interests at heart,” he reassures her, tugging on her arm.
She twists out of his hold, running over to me. Tears stream down her face as she pulls me into her. Seeing her this way, knowing that things are forever going to change for us after tonight, is causing my lungs to seize. Needing to stay calm for her until she leaves, I force myself to take a few deep breaths through my nose.
Searing her lips onto mine, she whispers against them. “I love you, Trent. Always. Fate will bring us back together.”
“I love you too, Doll.” Now it's my turn to put on a fake smile and reassure her, my voice coming out raspy.
I pull her in tight one last time before kissing her forehead and letting her brother take her away from me. My heart pounds harshly in my ears, like it’s begging me to keep her close.
“Wait,” she says, stopping Micah and looking back at me. “Let this die down for a few weeks, and I’ll text you.” A weak smile spreads across her beautiful features, and it has my stomach twisting, already missing her. “Until then, I’ll be talking to the moon every night.”
The penetrating stare her brother gives me keeps me silent. Her messages will go unanswered. There is no other choice. Dread blankets me, more suffocating than I could have prepared for.
As soon as the door closes behind them, I pick up the phone and call my brother, ready to expedite our plan into motion before I fall apart.
She may end up with Giovanni’s last name, but a piece of her will always belong to me.
One
Three Years Later
Junior’s arm wraps around my side as he pulls me in close. My face remains stoic, void of any emotion, when he places his lips on top of my head in a whisper of a kiss.
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, just waiting for me to break. That won’t be happening. No, I’ll leave that to the swarms of people who have come to say goodbye. Instead, I remain staring angrily as the casket gets lowered into the earth. Anger is the only emotion I experience these days.
With each shared condolence, my disdain grows. Who are all these fucking people? Why is it that funerals dredge up the most unfamiliar faces, and the ones you want surrounding you are nowhere to be found?
How is this my life?
Peering out amongst the sea of unknown faces, I spot Lottie and Greyson. She gives me a small smile as she mouthslove you, Bitty. I muster up a genuine smile in return, only for her. The sight of my best friend’s fiancé standing besideher shouldn’t feel like a stab to the chest, but it does. The blood pumping through his veins is shared with the man who will forever hold the pieces of my broken heart.
The long line of people wishing to extend their condolences brings back my attention. My mother dutifully shakes everyone's hand, pushing through the pain that’s written all over her face. She hugs those she recognizes, while I nod and give them a polite smile. Judging by the amount of people, it appears Vincent Castrovinci was well-liked within the Santini crime family.
Although my father was made Capo before his passing, I’m no fool to believe this is all for him. It's more so because of the man standing by my side, whose own father died a few years ago in a similar scenario. A meeting gone wrong, they called it, leaving Junior to step into the role of boss of the Santini crime family. Although Gio’s death didn’t come as much of a shock because he was hated by many, unlike my father.
“Mrs. Santini, I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was a good man. Please let me know if you need anything,” a man around the age of my father says while stopping in front of me and Junior.
“Thank you,” I say, and the man whispers something to Junior, causing him to step away for a moment. Joey, Junior’s underboss, comes to stand beside me. I scrunch my nose when his overbearing cologne wafts my way. Of course I'm not to be left unsupervised, not even for a minute; my life is no longer my own. The only time I don’t have someone trailing me is when I'm within the confines of the well-guarded Santini compound.
“How much longer you think this shit will last?” Joey asks with an exhale of his cigarette. I don’t bother answering him, because who the fuck asks that.
“Hello… I'm talking to you, princess,” he growls, a little too close to my ear.