Page 54 of Sins of the Orchid
He started walking towards me, his stride confident. Was he part of the Colombian Carrera Cartel? Or was his last name just a coincidence? It was a fairly common last name, though I had to admit, he looked fierce and scary.
“Miss Bennetti,” he greeted me. I had only met him once at The Orchid. The same night I got my first kiss and my first rejection.
“Mr. Carrera.”
“Please call me Gabriel.”
It wasn’t like I would see him around a lot to call him by his first name.
“Amore.”
“How is Italy?” I cocked my eyebrow. Maybe he knew a bit too much. He must have read my thoughts. “Adriano said you are studying in Italy.”
Ah.
“I love Italy,” I answered. “So, you work with Adriano and Santi?”
“When necessary. Yes.” My brows knitted at his cryptic answer. “Santi and I have common goals.”
Sensing he wouldn’t elaborate, I glanced away from him and spotted Santi’s zia rushing towards the kitchen.
“It was nice seeing you,” I said, glancing at Gabriel. “Excuse me.”
Pushing off the wall, I strode after her.
“Can I help you?” I offered. She whirled around and I spotted tears glistening in her eyes.
She swallowed and nodded. I followed after her and helped her in the kitchen for the rest of the afternoon. Renzo hung around the kitchen too, though I wasn’t sure if it was because he wasn’t in the mood for company or just wanted food.
“Thank you for your help, Amore.” Santi’s Aunt Giulia smiled, though it was a slightly sad smile. I’ve seen her only once before, the day I met the Russo men. She was Mr. Russo’s sister-in-law, but I rarely went around the Russo extended family.
Her silver white hair fell down her back in cascades. She was still very beautiful but unlike most Italian families, she had beautiful, shattering blue eyes.
“No problem,” I told her, tucking my hands into my dress. “Do you need anything else?”
She shook her head, and I offered a smile. “I’ll go find a corner and hide then.”
She chuckled. “That’s a good idea. I will do the same in a few minutes.”
I nodded and went through the house. The place was huge, very beautiful, but too big for a bachelor. I wondered why Mr. Russo moved to the city after his wife died. The words he told me when he admitted that it was my mother that caused the wedge between the Russo and Bennetti family made me think that maybe he didn’t love his wife. Or maybe made men were just unfaithful by default. Would Santi be unfaithful to his wife?
A sharp pain pierced through my chest thinking about Santi with another woman. I didn’t like to think of him marrying. I was stupid to even think any thoughts about it. With his looks, Santi had a trail of heartbroken women behind him. Santi Russo was none of my business and the best self-preservation was to stay clear of him, so I pushed all the thoughts about Santi and his women away.
Besides, I knew marrying a made man wasn’t in my cards. Not if I wanted to keep the Regalè Empire going, and I promised Grandma that I would. Like my grandmother always said, I wasn’t born in the world of the mafia, and I wouldn’t die in it. She always said that she never had the intention of having Mom nor me involved in the underworld side of her business.
Most people had left by now and the house had quieted down. Dad, Uncle Vincent, and my brother left after speaking to Adriano. He promised them either he or Santi would bring me home. It better be Adriano, and I told him as much. Nobody knew about that kiss Santi and I shared but being alone with him was out of the question.
Curiosity and the need to be alone had me climbing the luxury marble steps up to the second floor. Once there, my footsteps were silenced by the plush carpeting as I roamed down the corridor. The house seemed cold, which I guess made sense since nobody lived here on a regular basis.
A door at the end of the corridor was wide open and I strode to it, peeking inside.
A beautiful, large library with warm tones and a marble fireplace stretched in front of me. Dusk had darkened the room, the rising moon throwing off the only light coming through the windows and casting shadows throughout it. Slowly walking through the room, I let my fingers sweep over the wooden furniture. Everything was clean and pristine.
Even in the dark, I could see the beautiful books stacked from top to bottom in the bookcases. The bookcases spanned every inch of the room except for the window at the back of the room where a leather lounge chair sat.
It smelled like leather and old books here, kind of like George’s old library. I used to spend so many hours in his library, playing by the fireplace while he worked on his research papers or planned our next adventure.
Flicking on the desk lamp, the ghosts of the past faded away and an amber glow cast soft shadows through the room.
