Page 13 of His to Ruin

It’s odd to walk into my mother’s house and not find any of my family here. I’ve never lived on my own and I’ll probably never get the chance to. I don’t think I’d want to be by myself, anyway.Having grown up with five brothers, I’m used to having people around.

It’s been getting steadily quieter in the house over the past few years. Apart from Gio, my brothers have all had their own homes for a while now. They still stop by regularly to see our mother and check on me, but it’s not the same as it was when we were younger. When my brothers visit, they often bring their wives, who I’m gradually growing closer to. Gio hasn’t found a woman who’ll put up with his assholery yet, but he’s abroad right now, exploring Scotland. He won’t be coming back for the wedding. Though we’re not particularly close, I will miss him. When Gio’s around, he takes some of the heat off me. Our brothers worry about him as much as they despair over me.

Even the staff are away this evening. They’ve all gone to Connecticut to help set things up. Our housekeeper, Janetta, who runs the Westport house, is fantastic, but even she can’t handle the mammoth task of preparing for a wedding by herself. I’m not entirely alone, of course. The omnipresent guards are lurking outside and in the house next door, which Antonio bought to give them a base. None of them will come in here unless there’s an emergency. Even Dante, who is Antonio’s most trusted friend, saw me safely to the door and then left. It’s ridiculous how these brutal men act sometimes. They’re afraid that being alone with me will lead to scandal. But in the world we inhabit, reputation is everything.

As it’s rare to have the house to myself, I decide to make the most of it and watch a movie. Our home theater doesn’t get much use. None of my brothers can sit still long enough to enjoy it and my mother prefers to read.

With nobody around to complain about how I’m dressed, I decide to change into something more comfortable. I headupstairs to my bedroom. Sinking onto the super-soft mattress of my four-poster bed, I pull off my high-heeled ankle boots. They’ve been squeezing my toes unbearably all day. I strip off my jeans and silk top, then take some time to remove my makeup.

When I’ve cleaned off the last traces of foundation, I tie my hair in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I put on the yoga pants I would spend my life in if I didn’t have to keep up appearances, and a soft pink jersey camisole. Then I wander down to the kitchen in search of snacks. It’s strange. This has been my home since I was a toddler, but walking around when there’s nobody else here makes me feel like I’m doing something illicit.

After my bedroom, the kitchen is my favorite room in the house. Its dominant feature is a massive stove. There’s usually something simmering away on it, creating mouth-watering smells, but right now there’s nobody here to cook. I could order takeout, but by the time the guards have pawed through it to make sure it’s safe to give to me, it will be cold.

I rummage through the pantry, grabbing some cookies and a bag of chips. The refrigerator yields some guacamole that smells fresh and a can of soda. I take everything to the media room. Though she isn’t here, I can still hear our housekeeper’s voice telling me not to make a mess, so I carefully lay everything out on a table between two large leather armchairs. I’m about to turn on the projector and find a movie I want to watch when the intercom buzzes on the wall behind me. We have a communication system set up throughout the house to link us with the guards who provide our security.

Sighing heavily, I go to the phone and pick it up. “What is it?”

“You have a visitor, Miss Volante.” The voice belongs to Donnie Rizzo, a relatively recent recruit who got the job because he’sfriendly with my brother, Gio. He’s a capable soldier for my family’s organization, but manages not to be as big a jerk as most of Antonio’s men.

“Who is it?” I’m not expecting anyone. None of my friends would come here uninvited and a family member would just breeze in through the front door.

“Dario Maroni.”

My legs almost give way. Why would Dario come here? It’s been more than a year since I last saw him. We haven’t spoken since the night I confronted the prick about selling the photos he took of me to my brothers’ enemies. I’ve never forgiven myself for allowing him to take those pictures, and he’ll never worm his way back into my favor. I thought Dario loved me, but by the time he was finished with me, I felt anything but cherished. When I found out he was working for Joey Gallo all along, I was devastated.

Though he’s the last person I want to speak to right now, I am curious about why he’s here. If there’s a chance he’s going to cause trouble for me, I want to be prepared.

“Let him in, Donnie.”

“He’s not on the approved list.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m approving him.”

Donnie makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “I should check with the boss.”

“Don’t bother.” I rub my temples as a headache threatens to build. “Dario isn’t a security risk. He’s an old friend from school, so why don’t you check him for weapons and send him in?”

“Okay, miss, but I’ll need you to stay close to a panic button.”

“Yeah, okay.”

There are buttons all over the house that my mom and I can press if we feel threatened. Within seconds, dozens of men will swarm in and save the day because, as far as they’re concerned, I can’t defend myself. The truth is, while I would never instigate an attack on someone, I’m not completely helpless. For years now, Jimmy has given me lessons on self-defense and escaping from dangerous situations. His intention is to give me the tools to keep myself alive until help can reach me, but I like to think I could kick ass if it came down to a life-or-death situation.

I slam the receiver back into its cradle and step out into the hallway. It takes a full two minutes before the front door opens and Dario enters. Tall and broad-shouldered, he’s wearing his jet-black hair a little longer than he used to. He’s lost none of his swagger. As he walks along the corridor, he tucks his black t-shirt back into his jeans. I guess Donnie was thorough when he searched him for weapons. When he sees me, a smug grin spreads across his face.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“Heard you’re getting married. Wanted to offer my congratulations.”

He saunters toward me, arms thrown wide, as if he’s about to hug me. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to, though he gets closer than I’m comfortable with.

“Bullshit!” I fold my arms defensively across my chest. “Tell me what you really want.”

I try not to flinch as he lifts his hand to stroke my cheek. “I want to give you a wedding gift, for old time’s sake.”

“What gift?”

“Those photos we took. I can get them back for you.”

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