Page 31 of Sins of the Orchid
I frowned. This was getting more bizarre by the minute. Santi didn't seem surprised by his father’s admission.
“But weren’t you married?”
“Ah, Amore. You have a lot to learn about this world. Your mother was forbidden to both of us, but with unparalleled beauty and connections that we wanted to capitalize on, it made us both act reckless.” Why did his words hit me wrong? It was the first thing that made me not like him, and by the look on his face, I could tell he knew it. I blew an unruly curl out of my face. “I didn’t say it was right. Maybe one day you’ll understand.”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I’d much rather be scrutinized by Santi for my driving and argue with him about my kiddo title than discuss my mother and two men that seemed to have an infatuation with her all those years ago.
I turned my head and locked eyes with Santi. In his dark gaze, I found my calm and safety.
“My reflexes are not good, and it makes my driving bad,” I said. I swallowed hard, hoping both men would allow me this subject change. I wasn’t ready to hear more about Mr. Russo and my mother. A blush colored my cheeks, whether it was due to my admission at my poor driving, or that I wasn’t ready to hear more, I wasn’t sure.
“What’s wrong with your reflexes?” Santi asked, his soft tone washing over me like the comfort of the warm southern sun. I wanted to soak up his warmth and keep it with me forever.
There were so many secrets around me. They started unraveling the day Mom and I set foot in South America, and they questioned her about who Grandpa left in charge of the Perèz Cartel. Something about a broken vow. I didn’t even know he was head of the Perèz Cartel. Jesus Christ! We ran a fashion empire, not a criminal empire. Everyone kept me in the dark, sheltering me from the past. Instead of helping, it left me blind and vulnerable. It left me to make a fatal decision. Now Mom was dead, and I was the only one left. I wasn’t only heiress to the Regalè fashion empire but also to the Venezuelan Perèz Cartel. Except, I wanted nothing to do with it.
Mr. Russo’s comment about Mom’s connections confirmed that Dad knew my heritage. Both dons did. Yet, nobody bothered to explain it to me. My bodyguard, DeAngelo, was the only one that believed leaving me clueless made me vulnerable. I agreed. DeAngelo’s family was part of the Colombian Cartel that rescued me from the jungle five years ago.
I wanted to talk about it with Santi so bad. He lived and breathed this stuff. He could help me do it safely and successfully. After all, he had cleaned out New York City of his enemies. But I didn’t dare to ask him for help with this. I knew he was ruthless when it came to hunting his enemies, but he also had certain notions about responsibilities of women versus men. And I couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t try to use me for my connections to the cartel.
I refused to be used. I had a promise to keep, and it was important to me that I succeed. No, I couldn’t risk telling Santi. While he didn’t mind keeping my outings from my father, he wouldn’t keep something like that from him.
“Amore, what’s wrong with your reflexes?” he repeated.
I shrugged, acting nonchalant while every fiber of me screamed against the silence and the secrets. “The instructor said I keep getting sidetracked.”
“Maybe you should hold off driving and let your Uncle Vincent drive you? After all, he’ll be with you in Italy.” Santino’s suggestion made sense, but it pissed me off, and he read it in my eyes. He just chuckled, unperturbed. “You wouldn’t want to cause an accident, would you?”
I flinched with an old memory that flashed in my mind.
“You’ll get in trouble and cause an international incident. Stay put and no jungle trotting in a hunt for the orchids.” My mother’s voice was a clear command. There wasn’t much she forbade me, but this one she was adamant about. I should have listened. Curiosity was my downfall. And George’s too. He came up to me and assured me it would be fine. So, we snuck out and went trekking through the jungle.
The most beautiful, delicate, and exotic orchids grew in that area of Colombia. I wanted to see them firsthand so I could use them for a new dress I was drawing. The flower grew on trees, and a local told me there were many orchids of different colors growing there. It was the only spot in the world that they grew. They were almost extinct, but she told me close to the Venezuelian border, only ten miles from our current location, you could find an abundance of them.
I quickly pushed the memory away and caught Santi’s eyes on me. He noticed too much, everything. His dark eyes drilled into me, as if he could see into my mind.
“I’m back, baby.” Adriano came back at that moment grinning widely, and I tore my gaze away from his hot, older brother.
He wore his standard jeans, hugging his legs, and a white t-shirt that accentuated his build, a helmet in his hands. He was good looking and there were plenty of girls fawning over him. I was quite content being his best friend. Crushing after one Russo was bad enough.
“Got the helmet, I see.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Jerk.”
He brought his other hand forward. “I brought one for you too,” he joked, and my cheeks flushed.
“Double jerk,” I spat. “For that, I’ll be sure to scrape your side of the car.”
“We’ll see you at your birthday party, Amore,” Mr. Russo said, interrupting our dispute. Since I moved to New York, Dad always threw a birthday party for me, and the Russos were always invited. So was my grandmother, very reluctantly.
“See you, Mr. Russo,” I said as Adriano pulled me along. “Santino.” I tilted my head and headed out the door into the warm spring day.
More than likely, I wouldn’t see Santi for another few months. He hadn’t been to my birthday party in several years.
CHAPTER8
Santino
Considering Adriano and Amore were joined at the hip, I didn’t see Amore often. I had my own place, and somehow we kept hitting up Pà’s house at different times. But each time we crossed paths she had grown another few inches.
It made me feel like a perv seeing her dressed in that school uniform. Did her father let her walk out of the house like that? It was clear her uniform was a lot shorter than school code. I had plenty of girls in my high school years to know how they pushed the dress code limits.
