Page 5 of His Dark Vendetta

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—” Anna’s shoulders deflated, and she stared at me blank-faced, the way she did when she couldn’t find her words.

“You don’t need to be sorry. The past couple of months have been a lot.”

I could barely cope with what happened—nerves on edge, stomach on the offensive—and I spent the first eighteen years of my life around that type of bullshit. Granted, I’d removed myself from Boston and any association with the Shaughnessys for nearly twenty-five years, but that didn’t mean life in a mob family wasn’t familiar.

“Anyway…” I said, eager to change the subject. I raised my eyebrows and sipped my drink.

“Anyway,” Anna continued, “a month was a long time to be away. I hope Sophie behaved herself.”

“She’s a lover. I’m going to miss having her around. Even if she woke me up every morning screaming for food.”

Anna smiled the exasperated smile of a cat-mom.

“It was fine,” I said. “Made me want to get one.”

“You should!”

I huffed. “Girl, I can barely take care of myself.”

She chuckled. “You’re the General Manager of Boston’s most exclusive resort. I’d say you’re doing just fine.”

I frowned. “About that…”

I set my martini down, folded my arms atop the stone floor between the two mineral baths, and rested my chin on the backs of my hands. Anna sat up and faced me, leaning against the edge of her bath.

“What happened at Vesuvio…” I started.

She looked away and reached for a necklace that wasn’t there. She was still struggling. I didn’t blame her.

The illegal, after-hours gambling hall on the second floor of Marco’s nightclub Vesuvio had been raided, and in our mad dash to escape, Anna was hit by a car and almost died. To make matters worse, the entire charade had been orchestrated by Luca to frame my family and get Marco to move against the Irish.

My cousin Ciarán had been furious, ready to retaliate. He called the Italians a menace, one his father should have put to rest decades ago. He told me if I was smart, I’d help him, refusing to acknowledge the glaring truth—the Shaughnessys were as much of a menace as the Valenzanos or DeVitas. I walked him back, assuring him that Marco knew he hadn’t sanctioned the raid.

I’d never betray Marco or let Ciarán hurt any of the DeVitas if it was in my power to prevent it. They’d been more of a family to me than any of the Shaughnessys.

“When Marco brought me on, he didn’t just hire me, he treated me like one of his own. And after everything you and I have been through, you’re more than a friend, Anna. You’re family, and I don’t use that word lightly.”

I reached out and squeezed her hand, knowing what I was about to say would probably send her into a fit of sweaty palms and stuttering.

“You asked me once how I knew so much about this world. I’m sure Marco filled you in. I’m a Shaughnessy. On my mother’s side. I trust you not to share that information with anyone.” She swallowed and gave me a slight nod. “I left Boston when I was eighteen to get away from them. I only came back two years ago to take care of my parents. I don’t want to be a part of this world, and I’ve spent my entire adult life making sure I’m never in a situation where I have to live like that again.”

I swallowed the thickness creeping up my throat. It rose any time I was reminded of what growing up in the Irish mob had done to me, the damage that could never be repaired.

“I didn’t figure out Marco was connected for more than a year after I started at Terme. When I finally put it together, Terme seemed so separate from all that, like Marco couldn’t possibly be involved.”

Looking back now, I think I knew. The signs had been there, but I’d willfully ignored the evidence right under my nose. My parents needed me. What else could I do but rationalize away the truth?

“He did so much for me, giving me a chance in such a prominent position, accommodating my needs. So I chose to believe he was less involved than he was. But then Vesuvio happened. And Luca…”

Anna lowered her eyes.

“I’ve worked too hard building a life that isn’t tied to the Shaughnessys. I clawed my way into this position, and I won’t let my career be destroyed by my family. I need to find a new job away from all of this. I’m leaving Terme di Boston.”

“What? No!” Her eyes widened, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

“I’m taking the next two weeks off for interviews. I filed the vacation request while you were in Italy. But no one knows why, not even Marco.”

She swallowed, and I gave her the moment she needed to collect her thoughts. She’d argue that Marco would shield me from my family and his, that he would never allow Mafia matters to impact me. But they already had. I’d lucked out that night at Vesuvio, walking away unscathed. Next time, I might not be so lucky.

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