Unforgivable Ties

Chapter 11

Stephanie

I had my laptop and school books sprawled out on the desk in the living room. Currently, I was taking a break from reading about urinalysis to look for a new apartment, but it was a bit disheartening. All the prices were astronomical in New York City, each listing more outrageous than the last.

Fortunately, now that Vincenzo was paying my tuition, I had more wiggle room to spend on rent. Even though the apartments were laughably small, I wouldn’t have to live on the outskirts of the city in the rundown type of apartment like before.

I had compiled a list that I was going to look at tomorrow. They were carefully mapped out, so I could check all four out within the day and still have the rest of my afternoon to myself.

“What are you doing?” Vincenzo asked, magically appearing from behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. The man was giant, but made no sound when he moved around the apartment. It was probably a skill he gained from years of doing shady shit for the mafia.

“Looking for a new apartment,” I said, turning to face him.

“Why?”

Why? I had made it obvious I wasn’t going to stay with him. I couldn’t just live in one of the nicest buildings in town and not pay rent.

“This is temporary,” I reminded him. “I need to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“You don’t take up that much space. I forget you’re here sometimes,” he said nonchalantly. “Why don’t you just stay?”

“I can’t do that,” I sputtered, feeling a surge of heat rise to my cheeks. His nonchalant suggestion was as confusing as it was unexpected. “I’m basically just freeloading in your house.”

He shrugged and leaned back against the wall, all casual indifference. His dark, liquid gaze studied me. “What am I going to do with all the empty rooms, anyways?”

“I don’t know. It’s your apartment.”

“And, it’s cleaner than it ever has been with you around,” Vincenzo added, casting a glance around the spotless living room.

“Well...”

Jessica’s words popped back into my mind. That’s how it starts. Just like a tiny seed, one thing leads to another.

“Can I pay rent?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting him to think I was taking advantage of the situation.

“Do you really think I need you to? I wouldn’t even notice it,” he said, running his hand through his long hair. He had recently taken a shower, and hadn’t had the chance to put it up yet, the dark locks instead cascading down his back.

“How does the mafia pay so well, anyways?” I asked,

“Another one of those things you don’t want to know about, Doc.”

I wasn’t even sure why he wanted me here. Based on previous conversations, Vincenzo was adamant about not keeping close relationships with women. He used them once and then tossed them away as easily as yesterday’s newspaper. Why was I the exception?

My heart dropped when I realized he just saw me as a friend. If you could even call us that. He probably saw me more like a pet, a random stray he picked up on the streets and was taking care of.

“Ok,” I said hesitantly. “But like, give me a chore list, or something. I want to earn my keep.”

This would be a bad idea. It was already a bad idea that I wanted to sleep with a member of the mafia and probably had a crush on him. But agreeing to live in his apartment, to share a space with him, to breathe the same air morning, noon, and night? This was opening the floodgates for potential disasters.

“Sure thing,” he responded.

My phone lit up, Jessica’s name on the screen. She had been hounding me and Vincenzo to go on a double date with her and Ted for weeks. I had always found some excuse to get out of it, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do it.

“I agreed to it when I talked to her, didn’t I?” Vincenzo said, reading the text over my shoulder.

“Well yeah, but you had a fake personality on. You were being,” I paused, remembering how terrifyingly good his acting had been. “Friendly.”

“I fucking hate that shit,” he grumbled, running a hand over his face as if to scrub away the very memory of the act. “But I said yes to your friend. Tell her we’re coming.”

I was confused. I thought he had said that to her to get her to leave, and that all memories of the interaction would be forgotten after he had closed the door. And, even if he had remembered, that it was an obvious lie and there was no way he would go.

“You don’t have to do that,” I murmured, not meeting his gaze. The thought of Vincenzo pretending to be someone he wasn’t for my sake unsettled me. It seemed too personal, too close.

“She thinks I’m your boyfriend, remember?” he responded. “And I have nothing better to do tonight.”

“No shootouts to get into, or drug deals to make?” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

He chuckled, a low rumble that resonated in his chest, and my heart physically ached in response. He did it so rarely. I wished he’d laugh for me more often.

“I get every third Saturday off,” he joked, a playful glint in his eyes. “So tell her we’re coming.”

“Ok...you know we’re going to a club after, right?” I said skeptically. “You don’t strike me as a dancer.”

“Hm, guess you’ll find out.”

I texted Jessica back and told her yes, the two of us would go that night. As I hit send, a rush of worry washed over me. A night that was supposed to be fun was just going to give me anxiety all evening.

It wasn’t just that Vincenzo was not a “fun” person by traditional standards. He was intimidating, with tattoos and a glare that could send a grown man running. But hopefully, his charming facade could last all night.

I worried about it the rest of the day, up until the two of us were approaching the restaurant. It would be harder to fool Jessica and Ted at dinner than it would be in the loud, overcrowded club.

I glanced at Vincenzo as we walked into the restaurant. He always looked handsome, but tonight he had dialed it up ten notches. The tousled ponytail he normally wore his hair in was slicked back, showing off his strong jawline. He wore a crisp, black suit that fit him perfectly, enhancing his broad shoulders and tapering down to his waist. The entire image was completed by a red tie, a standout splash of color against the black ensemble.

I was so busy checking him out that I didn’t notice the rug was raised, and I tripped over it. My hands instinctively went forward to brace my fall, but before I fell to the ground, Vincenzo’s arm wrapped around my waist.

“Careful,” he said. He left his arm wrapped around it as he led me to the table where Jessica and Ted were already seated. His touch was warm, firm, and strangely comforting, easing some of my pent-up anxiety.

“Hey!” Jessica said excitedly, shooting up from her seat to greet us.

“Hey,” I said, giving her a hug.

“Good to see you again,” Vincenzo said as he pulled my seat out for me.

“Nice to meet you, man,” Ted said, extending his hand across the table. “I’m Jessica’s boyfriend, Ted.”

Vincenzo accepted the gesture, his grip firm and his gaze steady as he responded, “Nice to meet you too, Ted.”

And just like that, Vincenzo flipped on his fake, charming persona. I should like him better like this. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it, every word smoothed over with a veneer of sincerity. He told jokes, laughed in the right places, and kept the conversation flowing effortlessly.

But I found myself more drawn to who he truly was—a gruff, no-nonsense man who worked in the mafia. Despite his tough exterior, he always took care of me in his own way. It was the Vincenzo who caught me just before I stumbled and fell in front of everyone, his powerful arms wrapped securely around me, that I preferred.

“What do you do for work, Vincenzo?” Jessica asked.

My stomach lurched. There was no way he’d tell them he worked in the mafia, but he didn’t hesitate before replying.

“Financial consulting,” he said smoothly, his expression calm and composed.

“Oh, cool,” she said, not pressing any further.

Most people weren’t interested in financial things. It was a great cover story and, smartly enough, boring enough to ward off any more inquiries. Even Ted simply nodded along, his attention already glazing over. I chewed on my bottom lip, watching them all interact.

“What’re you getting?” Vincenzo leaned over and murmured in my ear.

“Grilled sea bass, I think. You?”

“Haven’t decided,” he replied, his breath warm against my skin. I felt a slight shiver slip down my spine despite the crowded room around us.

The server came over, a young man with a wide smile. Vincenzo ordered a bottle of red wine for the table and a steak for himself, while I confirmed my order. Jessica and Ted placed their orders, too.

“How did you two meet?” Ted asked us, his eyes flicking between Vincenzo and me curiously.

Somehow, Vincenzo remembered the lie he had fed Jessica the day they had met.

“Well, I do consulting work for one of the directors at her school, and had to run to her campus that day,” he started, his charm turned on to the maximum. “After, it was pouring rain and I had forgotten an umbrella. Stephanie offered to share.”

He rested his hand on my knee, as if this was a real relationship. It felt so natural against my bare skin; like it should always be placed there. I felt a warm flush creep up my neck and settle on my cheeks.

“And I couldn’t leave without getting her number,” Vincenzo finished.

Ted laughed, the sound echoing across the room and drawing the attention of the other diners. “That sounds like a movie,” he said, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. “Doesn’t it, Jessica?”

“It really does!” she responded, going starry eyed. “It’s so romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” I said, my voice an octave higher than usual. I felt Vincenzo’s thumb trace small circles on my knee, a comforting gesture that did nothing to ease my nerves.

After Ted and Jessica shared their own meeting story—a chance encounter at a farmer’s market—the conversation shifted to other topics.

Soon enough, our food came and we all ate. The grilled sea bass was delicious, cooked to perfection with a buttery lemon sauce that practically melted in my mouth. Vincenzo seemed to enjoy his steak, cutting into it with vigor and complimenting the chef.

“Do you want to try?” he asked.

As his “girlfriend,” it would probably look weird if I declined.

“Sure,” I said, picking up my fork and knife to cut myself a piece.

“Here,” he said, holding out his fork.

He had already cut a piece for me. I turned bright red as he fed me the steak from his own fork, the intimacy of the act causing a ripple of embarrassment. I accepted it, though, for the sake of our performance.

“It’s delicious,” I managed to say, maintaining eye contact with him. His gaze was soft, his eyes twinkling with a mild amusement that made me want to crawl under the table.

We finished up dinner and paid the bill. This was only the beginning of our night; the real fun was still to come.

“The club is just right across the street,” Jessica said, pointing at the neon sign visible from the restaurant window.

“Perfect,” Vincenzo replied, rising from his chair and extending a hand to help me up.

We got to the club and the pulsating beat of the music, previously muffled as we approached from outside, hit us like a physical force. The multicolored lights pulsed along to the rhythm, lighting up people’s faces in blues and purples before plunging them back into darkness.

“Oh, yeah!” Jessica said to us excitedly, before grabbing Ted’s hand. “Let’s go!”

She was a huge partier in undergrad. Now that she was an adult, she had toned it down, but there was still a side of her that longed to get drunk and dance on tabletops. I watched the couple disappear into the crowd.

“We can just sit at the bar,” I said to Vincenzo. “You don’t have to dance.”

“Who said I didn’t want to dance?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Before I could reply, he had already taken my hand and was leading us towards the dance floor, weaving skillfully through the mass of people. The whole place was a riot of colors and noise, a seemingly chaotic mix of flying limbs, spilled drinks, and pounding music that somehow fell just short of anarchy.

He tugged me along until we were at the heart of the dance floor, bodies pressed against each other in the pulsating rhythm of the music. My stomach twisted with a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he placed a hand on my waist, pulling me closer. I hadn’t gone clubbing since undergrad—Hopefully my dancing skills weren’t too rusty.

Half instinctively and half following his lead, I moved with him. His hands ran up and down my sides as we swayed together, the rhythm of the music pulsating through our bodies. His touch was gentle, yet firm, as if he knew exactly where to guide me.

My hands wrapped around his neck and I leaned into him, feeling the warm solidity of his body against mine. The world seemed to fade as I got lost in the moment, his scent, and the resounding music.

Vincenzo leaned down and pressed his lips against the shell of my ear. “You’re a good dancer.”

He didn’t move after speaking, letting his breath fan against the sensitive skin of my neck as the pounding bass vibrated through us. Instead, he continued his descent, teasingly running his lips against the sensitive skin of neck until he reached my collar bone.

I gasped at the contact and pulled him closer still. My own hands explored his chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath his shirt. His movements were slow, purposeful—a tease that drew me in and left me craving more.

Vincenzo pulled back from my neck and rested his forehead against mine, still swaying our hips to the beat of the music. His eyes were a tempest, swirling with a mix of desire and something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. His nose brushed against mine, and I realized he was hovering his lips dangerously close to my own.

I could feel his hot breath as he leaned in to close the millimeter gap that was left between our lips. Suddenly, the music glitched and the club filled with an ear splitting static. I pulled back and covered my ears as the noise echoed around the room. The dancers stilled, their joyous expressions replaced by confusion and annoyance.

“Sorry about that, folks,” the DJ said, finally getting the noise under control. “Let’s pick up where we left off!”

The beat of the music starting thumping again, but for Vincenzo and I, the moment was lost.

“L-let’s get a drink,” I said, whirling away from him and walking towards the bar.