Page 8 of The Tempted

Chapter Three

Note to self—partying all night with your boyfriend the night before you have to drive out to North Jersey to apply make-up on a crazy bride and her twelve bridesmaids is not a good idea. Actually, it’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever had because now I’m running on no sleep and have to sit through Sunday dinner with my parents. Usually, I look forward to Sunday’s. Mom goes all out on Sunday’s because it’s the only day of the week dad makes sure “business” doesn’t come first. You know there are no shakedowns or illegal gambling just some good old-fashioned family time at the Pastore house. You should know that I’m rolling my heavily lined eyes as I say this.

I don’t want to come off as if my family and I aren’t tight or that I don’t adore my father because that isn’t the case. I resent my father’s choices sometimes. You see it’s not easy growing up having your father’s picture plastered on the front page of the newspaper time after time. I was ten years old when I learned my father was the head of an organized crime family. On Career Day at school, I told everyone he was a business owner. Yeah, the joke was on me. I probably would still think he was just a simple business owner of a few nightclubs had it not been for Mikey’s dad Uncle Val dying so brutally. After Val died, the cat was out of the bag. There was no denying who my father was.

My teenage years were extremely difficult. On top of the normal angst a teenage girl goes through I had to deal with the backlash of who my father was. It was hard to make friends because most people my age only wanted to be friends with me out of fear. “Be nice to the gangster's daughter you never know when we might need to call in a favor.” Forget about having a boyfriend. There were two kinds of guys I attracted. First, there were the ones that scared easily. They would pick me up for a date and if my dad or one of his goons looked at them funny that was that they ran for the hills. The second was the guys who dated me because they thought my father was Jesus Christ reincarnated. They worshiped him and figured dating daddy’s little girl gave them a foot in the door when it came to the glamorous life of the mob. Stupid fuckers what’s glamorous about the Fed’s raiding your house on Christmas morning? Or maybe the glamor part is when your dad’s best friend is killed and then the only true friend you and your sister ever had moves away because his mom can’t bear the sight of our family. Yeah, so fucking glamorous.

Even now at twenty years old, I find it hard to let people into my life. I want people to see me for me, not for who my father is. That’s why I’m lucky I met Rico. He loves me for who I am and not for what my father might someday do for him. To be honest Rico doesn’t even seem to care who my father is. I think that’s the most attractive quality about him. He’s not intimidated by Victor Pastore, not in the least. He’s a keeper in my book.

“Mom, I’m home!” I shouted as I entered the house. I kicked the door shut with the heel of my boot as I wheeled my traveling makeup case inside. I leaned it against the wall deciding to take it upstairs to my bedroom when I can feel my toes again. Another not so smart idea was wearing leather stiletto boots when it snows. My pinky toe may actually be frost bitten.

“We’re in here,” my sister called from the living room. Her voice sounding nasal as if she had been crying. I shook my head as I took my jacket off. I hated that my sister was in a fucked-up relationship if one would even consider what they have a relationship. Adrianna’s ex-boyfriend Vinny is a douche bag. I will admit he had us all fooled for a while thinking he was a good guy. My parents, who are pretty old school even, accepted my sister’s unplanned pregnancy with open arms. It probably helped that Vinny promised my dad, he’d marry Adrianna once he passed his Series Seven. Yeah, big boy was studying to be a stockbroker only he got a little too acquainted with the nose candy and instead of becoming a licensed broker, he became a junkie whose biggest accomplishment is his stints in and out of rehab. The low-life isn’t even a father to my adorable nephew Luca. I wonder what the dick head did this time.

The first thing I noticed was that Adrianna wasn’t the only one crying our mom was too. I felt my pulse quicken as I looked back and forth between their grief-stricken faces. That’s another downfall to your father being a mobster. There is always that possibility that someone will clip him. Let’s be honest, my father is walking around with a big target on his back, which is attached to a pretty fat paycheck to whoever it is that finally takes him down. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to…,” my voice trailed off and I couldn’t continue with my question.

“It’s not daddy,” Adrianna said softly, taking a deep breath. “Sit down Nikki.”

I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding and slip into the oversized armchair across from them.

“Daddy is on his way home,” my sister said. I watched her look at my mother for a moment before her eyes found mine again. “He went to see Michael.”

I looked at her confused as to why this would be sad news. It’s been years since we’ve seen Mikey. I can’t help the excitement that filters through my body at the mere mention of his name. I’ve missed him and tried to understand why he and Maryann shoved us out of their lives, but I can’t deny that I missed him. How great would it be if he finally came around and reached out to dad? A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

“Nikki sweetie, it’s not what you think,” my mother said sadly before looking down at the tissue she was twisting nervously in her hand. She lifted her head and looked at me with despair in her eyes. “There was a horrible accident and Maryann…well she didn’t make it,” she said her voice catching.

I stared at my mom in shock for a moment and then it dawns on me that Mikey is suffering the loss of another parent. My eyes instantly filled with fresh tears as I put myself in his shoes for a moment. Even though it’s a strong possibility given the line of work, my dad is involved in it still tears me up at the mere thought of losing one of my parents let alone both.

“Oh my God, how is he? How’s Mikey?” I asked through my tears. My heart broke for him. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen him in ten years or that he hadn’t kept in touch when he promised that he would. I watched him mourn his dad all those years ago and couldn’t imagine him having to endure that pain all over again this time losing his mom. Life wasn’t fair, in fact, it was sometimes cruel.

“Daddy’s bringing him home. They’re flying the body here in the morning and the service will be Wednesday,” Adrianna said.

I nodded, thinking that at least he won’t be alone. We’ll be there for him.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” I heard my mom say just before the front door opened. We turned around and watched my dad and Jimmy walk inside. Immediately the three of us Pastore women stood to our feet seeking out Mikey but Jimmy closed the door behind him. My shoulders slumped, and I looked up at my dad expectantly.

“Where is Michael?” Mom asked.

My father looked around his eyes locking with each of us briefly before he answered. “He’ll be here any minute. He’s driving with Anthony.”

“How is he doing?” I asked quickly.

“He was doing a pretty little thing when we got there, Jimmy said from behind my dad. My father looked over his shoulder shooting Jimmy a deadly glare sending him cowering back into the hallway. My father turned back around and looked at me.

“He’s not doing too well,” he lifted his gaze to meet my mom’s eyes. “Drinking a lot,” he shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know how I can help him. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Victor. He’s just hurting and to be fair, there is a lot of unresolved issues on top of all this,” my mother alleged, laying a soothing hand on his shoulder. I looked at my sister and wondered if she knows what the hell my mother’s talking about. She and Mikey were even closer than I was with him. Since they were the same age they had a lot more in common, especially the fact that they both considered me a tag along. What they both don’t know is that I was completely jealous of my sister. Everyone joked around that she would wind up with Mikey and she probably would’ve had he not moved. The idea of her and Mikey drove me crazy of course that was because at ten years old I had the biggest crush on Mikey Valente. Too bad all he ever saw me as was a little girl who followed him and my sister everywhere begging them to include me in whatever it was they were doing.

I was startled from my thoughts when I heard the alarm beep three times outside the house. It’s a quirky thing that Anthony did every time he got out of his car. He hit the locks on whatever car he was driving three times. I’ll never get why he does it, but it’s his trademark and the signal that he’s arrived. Maybe he feels the need to always make his presence known who knows.

It dawned on me then that Mikey is with him and I am about to see him for the first time in ten years. I don’t know why I was suddenly nervous. It’s just MikeymyMikey. I shook my head, dismissing my silly thoughts. He just lost his mother he’s going to be distraught this isn’t some happy reunion.

A knock sounded on the door and Jimmy made himself useful by opening it. I saw Anthony step inside first. The big lug took up most of the doorway so it wasn’t until Anthony walked into the living room that I was able to see the man who walked in behind him. He lifted his head and his eyes wandered the room slowly. I heard my mother gasp from behind me and I knew it was taking all the restraint in the world for her not to run and throw her arms around him. He tipped his head, his face softening as he acknowledged my sister. He barely looked at my father and when he did, I swore he snarled, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. Then his gaze landed on mine and something flashed in his chocolate brown eyes. I stared at him, hoping that my mouth wasn’t hanging open because the man before me is nothing like that teenage boy that left ten years ago. The man before me is lethal to my system because I’m not sure I’m breathing as he holds me captive with just his stare. This little mob princess is royally fucked.

I snapped out of my trance when my sister brushed passed me wrapping her arms around him. I watched him return the embrace, closing his eyes as he relished in the comfort she provided.

“I’m so sorry Michael,” my sister whispered, sounding all sorts of emotional. I frowned unable to find any words or gestures of comfort. Granted, I thought about hugging him, but I was too stunned by his good looks to make a damn move. Now he was being cuddled by my sister and my mother who had joined their embrace. I felt out of place as if I was invading a private moment between the three of them, which was bizarre. I needed a distraction because I was staring at him actually I was ogling him.

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