Dating the Don (Savage Crime Lords #1)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MAEVE

O n some level, I suppose that I should be grateful to him for turning my fear into anger.

Anger is something that I’m much more comfortable with. It’s familiar.

My mother always joked that I got it from my father because she was always cool as a cucumber.

My father.

The elusive, mysterious other half of my genetic code.

I don’t want to think about my mother having lied to me. She can’t have been wrapped up in all of his mob business. She just can’t, it’s not possible. I won’t allow that to even be a possibility. She was a seamstress, she was bright and bubbly and always happy. She couldn’t be married to some scary mobster.

I storm up the main stairs toward Cristiano’s bedroom without pausing. It doesn’t occur to me that I shouldn’t. He might try to follow me. It’s only when I’m standing outside of the door that I’ve already started to consider my own that I pause. I can’t very well keep him out of his own room. My old room has already been cleared out and turned into yet another guest room.

I wrench my heels off of my feet and leave them on the floor. Then, I turn and head toward Ada’s room. She’s got to be feeling just as shaken up as I am. Honestly, I need her. I need somebody to talk to.

I make it about halfway there when Annalisa steps out in front of me. The motion is so fluid and sudden, it’s like she materialized out of the shadows. She leans a shoulder against the closest wall and holds a glass of red wine in her hand. From the slightly unfixed glaze in her eyes, I would guess it’s hardly her first.

“I was wondering when you two would show up.”

I don’t have the energy for her right now. Right now, she's the last thing I need. Especially now that she's made up her mind about disliking me. I haven’t even washed the ash out of my hair. I need out of this dress and into something clean and time to get used to the burning in my lungs. I simply want to take a shower, get into bed with Ada, and cry all night long. I need to feel like myself again.

“I can’t do this tonight, Annalisa,” I say, resuming my walk.

Of course, she doesn't let me go that easily. “I’m speaking to you.”

“And I told you, I can’t do this. I don’t know if you know, or if you just don’t care, but I’ve had a hell of a hard night so far.”

She lets me stagger a few more steps down the hall before speaking again. “Don’t you want to know who tried to kidnap you?”

“You weren’t even there, what do you know of it!” I say without turning. I want to summon anger. I want to rage and scream at her, but I’m just too tired. My mind won’t stop spinning and I can’t seem to make it settle, no matter how hard I try.

“Just because I was not physically present, doesn’t mean I didn’t have eyes there, watching everything. A good mafia wife knows that knowledge is just as powerful as any other tactical move. Secrets are worth more than gold, my dear. You would know that if you had any business stepping into the role that you’ve so selfishly chosen for yourself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know who that man is,” Annalisa drawls and takes another long sip of her wine. “I could also tell you the truth about your father if you want me to.”

She’s got to be drunk.

I don’t want to play her games. My heart hurts. My head is pounding. I am not sure that whatever knowledge she might or might not have will help me in any way, shape, or form. I don’t know if I can trust anything that she says.

My gut instinct is to tell her I don’t want to play. The surest way to lose is to ask her for information. If secrets are her currency, like she’s saying, then she’s not going to be offering them to me for free and I have nothing to pay with. She’s going to ask me to leave Cristiano again, isn’t she? I can’t do that. No matter how angry I am with him. We have a deal.

As if summoned, Cristiano emerges at the far end of the corridor. He looks as though he has finally decided to pursue me. Flattering, but pointless. I doubt I'll have the energy to speak with him tonight. Not when I still need to sort through so much. I thought he would be upset with me for running away from him the way I had, yet all I see in him is worry. I'm not sure how to handle that.

His expression softens as we make eye contact, and he takes a half step toward me. His hand lifts, like he wants to touch me but distance prevents it.

Something in my chest aches for him.

He’s only trying to help, I know that. I don’t like it, but I know that it’s true. He’s only trying to explore every option available to him.

If my mother did lie, then it had to be for a good reason because she was a good person. She wouldn’t keep me from a loving father no matter what she felt for the man. If she lied, then my father is a bad person. There’s no other possibility.

What if Annalisa really knows about him? I owe it to myself to stand here and listen to it. No matter how much it hurts. If she demands a price, then I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Cristiano, seeing that I’m done running, comes to join me. His hand is warm and comforting as it finds mine. Annalisa rolls her eyes at the casual intimacy and turns to head toward her rooms again. We follow behind her silently.

Why now?

Why wait to tell me now if she knew who my father was this whole time? Why keep it a secret? If he had been successful in kidnapping me, would her truths have prevented such things?

“Cristiano, I suppose by now you’ve realized that Callum Sullivan is alive,” she sighs heavily and sinks into her chaise lounge. I know that she makes a dramatic show of being air headed, while she really always sees far more than anybody gives her credit for. I used to admire her for it.

“Yes, I suspected that,” Cristiano answers guiltily and my focus snaps to him. Callum? Is that who they think my father is? Why didn’t he tell me?!

Oh… because I yelled at him maybe.

Annalisa nods toward the glass of wine on the table with a knowing look. “You might wish for some to settle your nerves, dear.”

I used to think it was so charming whenever she called me thus, now it feels almost insulting.

Neither Cristiano nor I go for the wine.

“Suit yourself,” Annalisa shrugs. “Where to begin? I suppose at the beginning, right? Isn’t that what they all say?”

I don’t like the way she smirks at me. It almost feels… victorious. Though, for the life of me, I cannot guess what she believes she’s getting out of all of this. There’s nothing for her to gain, not that I know of anyway.

“When your mother arrived here, she was not in good shape. I know that you won’t like to hear these things about her, but she was beaten to the point that every doctor I took her to was afraid that she would miscarry you. She was merely weeks from delivery. But by some miracle or the grace of God, you survived. I don’t want to say that it was because of pity for her that I took her in, a dejected wife from a rival mob, but there was a fire in her eyes that I have always seen inside of myself. Though, maybe not as much now that I’ve lost my husband.”

Silence falls over the room for a long moment. Nobody rushes to fill the absence of sound.

“She was running from her husband. One look at her and it was beyond obvious why. We hid her here, it was not her fault she had ended up in the situation she had found herself in. Any time that I asked how a woman like her could…” Annalisa trails off and waves her hand dismissively. “Anyway, she would only say that Callum was not always like that. That something changed him but she never said specifically what. It seemed to be too much of an open wound for her, so I never pressed further. In exchange for her shelter, she provided us with valuable intel on the Doyle clan. Invaluable secrets that have helped us in many ways. I suppose that it comes as no surprise her only asking price was that you be cared for and kept safe.”

Cristiano straightens. “Something I jeopardized by asking her to marry me.”

Annalisa nods somberly.

“You put a target on her back, son. I meant it when I said that she was dangerous. Not for herself, but for who she is, her bloodline. Harboring her here is effectively an act of war itself. The Doyles… Sullivan, are going to treat her as stolen property. Any treaty lines that might have existed before… you’ve broken them all,” Annalisa confirms grimly.

Cristiano looks pale. I squeeze his hand, hoping to comfort him but I can’t tell if it helps or not. “How did they even find out that she was here? How did they figure out that she was Sullivan’s daughter?”

“That is the very question that I’ve been looking for an answer for myself,” Annalisa wiggles her bejeweled fingers in the direction of the wine bottle, and Cristiano refills her cup. “As you know, my friends and I meet for tea every Wednesday.”

Cristiano’s chin dips into a nod.

Though it's such a subtle gesture, time seems to stop for a split second. Is that the life he envisions for me? Book clubs or wine nights, getting together for tea and conversing with other mafia women while he isout and about in the real world? A spoilt, pampered doll? I don’t know if I can live that life. Is that what he expects from me? Or is thatjust what Annalisa chose? I try to picture her life before children for a moment, perhaps for the first time. What was she like when she was younger? What am I willing to give up for this life? This ruse?

It doesn’t really feel like much of a ruse as I sit here with Cristiano’s hand in mine.

I know the answer without even having to think about it.

I don’t know, however, if I’m ready to face all that my answer implies.

“It has been no secret that Hugh’s been looking for a wife for his son for some time now. I began to wonder and suspect that Sullivan might have offered up his daughter not long after the engagement party was announced to the men. I don’t know if he just has excellent sources, if we have a rat, or if maybe he’s been watching her from the wings for years. I thought that maybe she would be safe since it was you that she was engaged to. It is why I wanted you two to at least keep things private,” Annalisa continues. “Though, after the attack earlier tonight, all of my suspicions have been confirmed. I think the most likely option is that Sullivan has been silently watching his daughter grow for years, waiting for the perfect moment. Now, not only can he snatch her back for his own benefit, but knowing you love her? It's an added incentive.”

I turn to look at Cristiano. He’s not meeting my gaze. In fact, he seems to be looking straight through his mother to the far wall. I can practically hear all of the gears whirring around inside of his head. The alarm he’s feeling matches my own, he’s wearing it plainly enough on his face.

It must be as much of a shock to him as to me… right?