Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 7

Stephanie

I had torn into Vincenzo when we arrived back to my house. This agreement was supposed to be me patching up thugs, not playing his mafia girlfriend. It felt like I was being dragged into the underbelly of the mafia world inch by inch, and I wasn’t sure how to claw myself out.

What would have happened if I had been caught with him? The FBI wouldn’t care that I had been forced into this situation or that my involvement was limited to patching up the wounded. They’d view me as complicit, an accessory to these crimes. “Guilty by association,” they’d say, with their stiff suits and stern faces.

And I’d never get to work as a doctor. My dream was to wear a white coat, not heal criminals under a shadowy canopy of secrecy. No, my dream was to save lives in the world of light, in a hospital where people cared for and respected each other.

My best friend, Jessica, had sensed my distress and, as always, tried to bring a bit of light and levity into my life. She stopped by my apartment with cookies she had baked herself, the sweet smell of chocolate and vanilla filling the room almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice. “Are you still thinking about Preston?”

“Ew, no,” I responded.

It was the truth. I was distraught when we had initially broken up, but the arrival of Vincenzo in my life had tossed Preston to the farthest corners of my mind. Jessica’s eyes widened at my dismissive response before narrowing with suspicion. She knew me better than anyone, and she could tell when I was hiding something.

“So what is it, then?”

“I’m just really busy with school,” I lied, avoiding her piercing gaze.

Jessica and I had met in undergrad, although we had different majors—mine in pre-med and hers in journalism. We bonded through late night cram sessions and conversations about future aspirations, pushing through school by consuming insane amounts of coffee. She had graduated and was now working at The New Yorker while I was still knee deep in school.

“You’re always busy with school,” she said with a hint of exasperation. “Something else is going on. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“I don’t have a look.”

“You so do! It’s like your brain is trying to solve a thousand piece puzzle while running a marathon. It’s your ‘I’m-in-over-my-head’ look.”

As much as I wanted to confide in Jessica, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the dark world I had stumbled into. She would tell me to go to the police, or worse, use my situation to write an article.

This secret was a poison, and I could feel it slowly spreading through my veins, seeping into every corner of my being. Only with this, I couldn’t cure myself.

“I swear, Jess,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “The classes are just really hard this semester. And having Preston as a lab partner is miserable.”

“See, I knew he was part of it!” Jessica’s eyes gleamed in triumph as she bit into one of her cookies, her grin spreading chocolate crumbs across her lips. “You’ve been looking at those fancy medical books for too long, Stephanie. You know you can’t lie to me.”

“Whatever,” I said, waving my hand.

I was going to ask her how her boyfriend Ted was doing when I heard the steps outside my apartment crack as someone walked up them. Oh no. They only made that noise when the behemoth mafia man I knew walked up them. Why right now, of all times?

Vincenzo knocked on my door, the force of it rattling the pictures on the wall.

“Is that your neighbor?” Jessica asked.

I knew I had to answer the door, because the last time I had ignored him, he had picked the lock and made his way in. That would be really hard to explain to Jessica.

“Uh...sort of.”

I strode towards the front door and yanked it open with all my might. The rusty hinges screeched loudly, and I half expected them to snap off completely. On the other side stood Vincenzo, looking nonchalant as ever.

“What do you need?” I hissed quietly so that Jessica couldn’t hear.

“Well, I,” he saw Jessica sitting on the sofa behind me and stopped talking. “You have a guest.”

“I do, so if you could please leave—”

“Steph, who’s that?” Jessica asked curiously. As I spent more time with Vincenzo, I noticed he attracted a lot of stares—some out of curiosity, others out of fear.

“I’m her boyfriend,” he said, before I could tell Jessica a different lie.

I was livid. Lying to Preston about that was one thing, but Jessica? She was my best friend.

He gently nudged me aside and strode into my living room with an air of arrogance that simultaneously provoked fear and respect. Jessica shot me a surprised look as Vincenzo made himself comfortable on my worn-out armchair, his size making the furniture look laughably small. I could see her eyes darting between us, shock slowly morphing into confusion and then curiosity.

“You didn’t tell me you got a new boyfriend,” she said, almost sadly. I was sure she was hurt that I was keeping this “secret” from her.

I was about to deny it all and dismiss Vincenzo with a half-hearted excuse when he beat me to it.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” Vincenzo lied. “And it was fast—I was very forward with what I wanted.”

I hadn’t seen Jessica for a little over two weeks because I had been busy with all the mafia stuff, so that timeline would check out. But I didn’t want to know how Vincenzo knew I hadn’t seen her in two weeks. He must have really done a deep dive on my life.

She side eyed me. “Well, you could have texted me about it.”

“I really am busy with school!”

“My name is Vincenzo,” he said, formally introducing himself to her.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Jessica.”

“Stephanie has told me all about you. You two met in undergrad, and...” I stopped listening as he told Jessica everything he knew about her, and there was a lot. He really did conduct extensive research on my life.

It was like I was watching a different person. The cold, somewhat indifferent Vincenzo I was used to was gone, and a charismatic, charming version had taken his place. Jessica was visibly taken by the new Vincenzo, her eyes alight with fascination as he effortlessly wove tales about our supposed relationship. His charm was undeniable. He was a chameleon, able to adapt and blend into any social situation in order to manipulate it to his advantage.

I wanted to punch him. Although I’d probably just end up hurting myself; his body was pure steel.

“That’s so cute, Steph,” Jessica said, her eyes sparkling with delight at the end of one of Vincenzo’s stories. “I love it!”

I think he had just finished telling an elaborate lie about how he had asked me to be his girlfriend.

“So cute,” I said, giving Vincenzo a deadly look.

“You two have to go on a double date with Ted and I,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together in gleeful anticipation.

“Absolutely,” Vincenzo’s persona confirmed, without missing a beat. His eyes met mine, a mocking twinkle dancing in their depths.

“Well, Vincenzo, Jessica and I were hanging out. So we can talk another—”

“No, no!” Jessica said, standing abruptly and gathering her things. “I need to head out, anyway. Ted promised we would go shopping for a new rug today.”

My futile protest fell on deaf ears as she waved us off, chattering about how she looked forward to our double date. I scowled at Vincenzo as he slammed the door shut, his mask instantly falling off.

“Glad she’s gone,” he said gruffly, his former social charm evaporating into the ether. “Fucking annoying. Do you two babble like that all the time?”

“Friendly conversations are not babbling,” I said, crossing my arms. “And I never want to see you smile again. It was unsettling.”

That was a lie. He was really handsome when he smiled, in a dangerous, alluring way that sent a thrill down my spine.

It was annoyingly attractive.

“Unsettling or not, it got the job done,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“So I take it you’ll be here for a while, then?” I said, pointing at his jacket.

“Afraid you’re stuck with me for a bit, Doc.” He picked up a cookie and held it in front of him. “Why are you eating this crap for dinner?”

“It is not crap, and it’s none of your business what I eat for dinner,” I retorted, snatching the cookie away from him and taking a big bite.

He snatched it right back. “You need to eat something healthier. We’re eating a normal dinner.”

“Ha! Last time I offered you dinner, you insulted it. As if I’d make it for you again,” I scoffed, turning away from him, my cheeks red with both annoyance and a hint of embarrassment.

“I’m ordering us Greek food, so I don’t have to deal with your cooking,” Vincenzo declared, pulling out his phone. “It’s better for both of us.”

With a few swift taps on his phone, he ordered us kebabs, salad, and pita bread through a delivery app. Then he walked over to my sofa and let out a sigh as he sat down.

“Need you to check to see how this is healing,” he said, lifting his shirt to expose the old wound I had treated for him.

Oh god, why’d he have to do that? I almost got dizzy from looking at his eight pack, each perfectly sculpted muscle only stopped from perfection by scarring from previous fights.

“Sure,” I said, my throat suddenly going dry.

He took off his shirt and I almost had a heart attack right then and there. When I had first stitched him up, I just pushed his shirt up. This was my first time seeing him completely shirtless.

There were tattoos everywhere. I had seen them separately, on his arms, neck, and the time I had to push his shirt up. This was my first time seeing everything together. They connected in an expansive network of intricate art, each symbol and image telling a different story of his past. I traced a finger along the black lines that slithered down his side, in the shape of a serpent.

“I didn’t come here to give a free show,” Vincenzo grumbled, but there was no bite to his words.

I paused my tracing, my fingers hovering over his skin. The serpent tattoo wound its way down from his ribs to the v line of his hips, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling somewhat idiotic. “I’ve just never met anyone...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish my sentence.

“Covered head to toe in tattoos, in the mafia?” he finished for me.

“Well, yes,” I admitted, averting my gaze.

“It’s fine,” he responded. “I don’t mind when you stare.”

I near passed out. Was he flirting with me? Vincenzo was so serious all the time, it was hard to tell. He was probably just messing with me, savoring my obvious discomfort. I swallowed hard, pressing my hand back to his skin—strictly business this time.

“Alright,” I murmured, slowly unwrapping the bandaged wound. “It looks good. You’ve been following instructions.”

“Obviously. I need to get back to one hundred percent as soon as possible,” he responded. “There’s a lot I can’t do with this stupid thing.”

“Well, I’m not sure how you got yourself shot. But maybe just dodge next time?” I said facetiously.

He snorted at that. “Just dodge next time, huh?”

“Or you could just not get into shootouts, but I know that would be asking for too much,” I said, wrapping his healing wound with new gauze.

“Just a little.” Vincenzo pulled me into him suddenly, taking me by surprise. His hand was firm around my waist, his touch searing through my thin blouse. His other hand came up and ran along my collarbone, brushing my nape before lightly resting on my shoulder. “But I know you’ll be here to patch me up.”

I tried to respond, but it was like my brain had short-circuited. I shouldn’t like the feeling of his hand on my skin, the possessive grip he had on my waist, the piercing gaze that was locked with mine. A dangerous man like Vincenzo was not good news, and I knew this.

But would I be able to push these feelings out of my mind?