Chapter 18: New York City

HAYLEY

Hayley fidgeted with her top as she waited for Luca to pick her up, to “show her New York.” Was he trying to give her a reason to stay? Did she need a reason?

It was 10 a.m. on the dot when she heard a knock on her apartment door. She knew it was him, but she grabbed her jacket before answering it.

He was wearing another one of his expensive suits. Did he own anything else?

She smiled at him. “Hello.”

He looked her up and down, and then grinned. “Ciao, bella.” She blushed slightly and brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Why did he have this effect on her? And how did he manage to make her feel like a teenager rather than the strong woman she believed herself to be?

“Ready to go?” he asked, helping her put on her jacket. Now that it was mid-October, the air was getting a lot cooler.

“Yep,” she replied, then followed Luca down the stairs and out onto the street.

Nic smiled at Hayley as Luca opened the door and let her get in first, then drove them to an Italian café where they drank expensive coffee and talked.

Apart from the suit, Luca was more casual than she’d ever seen him while they spoke. They discussed little topics—favorite music styles, favorite seasons—and nothing in particular, just letting the conversation flow.

Afterward, they strolled through the park, admiring the leaves that had begun to change to their warm autumn colors—reds, golds, and oranges.

“Do you miss England?” he asked as he took her hand.

Did she miss it? That was a tough question. There was nothing left for her there—her dad lived in Russia, her grandma was dead, and the man she’d loved was long gone.

“I miss the life I had there,” she replied honestly as she walked, holding Luca’s hand. It felt strange yet comforting. “I miss the friends I once had, my home…”

“And what about Paris? Do you miss that as well?”

She sighed. “Paris was never home. It was just a place to hide from my dad, a place that kept me safe. Adrien and the girls there were fantastic friends, but I wasn’t a huge fan of Paris as a city.”

“What about New York?” he asked.

“New York is much like Paris—busy, but safe.” She sighed again. “I suppose home is where the heart is, and my heart hasn’t made up its mind.”

“The guy you were with, did he have your heart?”

“He did once. But he’s long gone now. He left England after he left me. No goodbye, just the pain he inflicted.”

Hayley had no idea why she was being so open. Maybe it was because Luca was letting down his own guard. What mobster just takes a girl out for a day in New York?

Luca looked like he was about to ask another question, but his mobile distracted him. He pulled it out and read a text. “Damn, I forgot I have somewhere to be. That was Isabella, Frankie’s little sister. Do you want to go to a birthday party?”

She just nodded. Anything for more time with Luca.

***

The Altera’s restaurant was the stereotypical Italian place, with red-and-white checked tablecloths and wine bottles with candlesticks in them.

On the wall were old photos of members of the huge Altera family, alongside black-and-white photographs of New York and Italy.

Frankie’s family was huge. He had four sisters, but only three were here: Isabella, Mia, and Sofia. He also had an abundance of cousins—Hayley remembered somebody saying there were twenty-two of them!

His dad was a demonstrative Italian man named Salvatore, or Sal as everyone called him, and his mum was a petite woman named Maria who loved to fuss over everybody.

It was obvious Frankie loved his family, and they loved him. His older cousins liked to tease him, but the younger boys clearly looked up to him.

Luca seemed amazingly comfortable in the Altera family, and when he laughed alongside the older cousins as they picked on Frankie, Frankie took it in stride.

Nic had also joined the party, talking to the older men, Frankie’s uncles. They all fit together like some sort of jigsaw puzzle.

Hayley sat with Isabella, Sofia, Mia, and some of the girl cousins, and they mainly talked about men, films, and other casual subjects as they passed the bottles of Italian wine around.

Sofia, whose twin, Elena, was away at college, was only nineteen, but attached to her hip was a young boy named Samuel, about three years old, who was her son.

Hayley learned Sofia had gotten pregnant by a man who was several years older than she. She’d believed he loved her at the time.

After Sofia had enjoyed more wine, she confessed to Hayley that Sam’s father was an enemy of Frankie’s and had got with her just to prove he could, and then had run away when she told him she was pregnant.

She proudly admitted to Hayley that Frankie was like a father to Sam, helping financially and doing the things his father should be doing.

The music stopped suddenly, and Sal cleared his throat loudly. “Everyone, it’s time to wish happy birthday to the birthday boys! It’s not every day you turn twenty-nine. You boys are nearly old—”

Maria shouted out something in Italian, and her words made everyone roar with laughter.

“Non ancora, Mamma! Sono troppo occupato per quello,” Frankie replied, which made all the men chuckle and his mother frown.

“What did your mum say?” Hayley asked the oldest Altera sister, Isabella.

“She says they should be married by now, with babies. But Frankie says he’s too busy for that.”

“Calmati, si sposerà,” Sal said, laughing at his wife. “He will get married in his own time. Now, back to Frankie and Luca!”

Hayley was surprised when Luca went over to stand beside Frankie—she hadn’t realized that it was also Luca’s birthday today. Why hadn’t he said anything?

Maria walked over and kissed each of them on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, boys, hope life treats you well!” Sal raised his glass. “To the birthday boys, Frankie and Luca,” he said, and everyone replied and clinked their glasses.

The live music started up again, and people began to grab partners and dance.

“Do you dance, Hayley?” Sofia asked, Little Sam on her lap, eating food from the buffet. Maria had put out so much it looked like she was trying to feed the entire city of New York.

Hayley laughed and took a sip of her wine. “I used to. I was a national ballroom champion.” She hadn’t said that out loud in years. “I did it all—cha-cha, waltz, you name it.”

Sofia’s eyes lit up, and she scanned the room before shouting out, “Papà! Hayley era una ballerina della sala da ballo. You should dance with her!”

Sal nodded and walked across the room to them, then held out his hand to Hayley. She could hear the distinctive beat of a cha-cha being played.

“Can I have this dance, bella?”

She wasn’t sure if she should—she’d been drinking. But it was a party after all, so she took the elder Altera’s hand, and he guided her to the dance floor.

LUCA

Luca looked up at the sound of Sofia’s voice—what the hell was she going on about, was she drunk?—then saw Sal lead Hayley to the makeshift dance floor.

Sal and Maria were once professional ballroom and Latin dancers in their younger years. And so, it would appear, was Hayley.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was nimble, light, and energetic, and her face was lit up with pure joy.

The other couples had left the dance floor, and they were clapping to the beat, cheering Sal on as he spun, twisted, and danced with the young woman.

Maria came up beside him. “She’s a beauty, Luca. I hope she’s a keeper,” she said in a low voice, watching her husband dance with Hayley.

When the music ended, Hayley curtsied to the audience, and Sal lightly kissed the back of her hand. Another lively piece began, and Luca took Maria’s arm and walked over to them.

“Lei è un diamante, Luca,” Sal said. “Don’t let her go, or you’ll miss her sparkle.” He then took his wife’s hand, and they joined the other couples dancing.

Luca grabbed Hayley and pulled her toward him, then joined in the dancing.

Sal and Maria were right; Hayley was something unique, something he’d never encountered before.

“You never told me you were a ballroom dancer,” he murmured as he held her close, and she looked up at him and grinned.

“You never told me it was your birthday. Happy birthday, Luca.”

He gazed into her bright blue eyes. “Thank you,” he said, then twirled her under his arm, and when he brought her back into him, she let out a joyful laugh that made something tighten in his chest.

When the music came to an end, Frankie was standing there.

“Sorry, Luca, it’s my birthday too, and I want a turn.” He winked at Hayley as another fast-paced piece of music began and stepped between her and Luca. “Addio, Capo.”

Luca watched as his friend danced away with his woman. If it wasn’t Frankie’s birthday, he’d never have allowed it.

***

Luca took a sip of his whiskey. He was sitting at a table with Hayley, who’d danced most of the night and looked exhausted.

Everyone was getting merry with the drink, and when Sal began singing a song in Italian, a boisterous Frankie joined in, along with some of his drunk cousins.

Luca hadn’t had nearly as much to drink as Frankie.

“I’ve had a great night,” Hayley confessed.

“I’m glad.”

“Frankie’s family is lovely,” she said, glancing around the room at all the people still dancing and singing, and Luca nodded.

“They’re amazing people. They’ve always been good to me.”

Luca and Frankie had been friends since elementary school, and the Alteras had always been there for him when he needed a family. He’d spent many Christmases, birthdays, and other holidays right here.

Frankie had been a rebel kid, getting into all sorts of trouble until Luca’s uncle offered him work. And before long he was just like Nic, always at Luca’s side.

“His sisters seem like nice girls,” Hayley said as she sipped from her glass. “Sofia’s story is heartbreaking.”

Luca nodded as he looked at the little boy who was now asleep on Sofia’s lap, a little boy with the blood of an enemy family running through his veins.

“She says Frankie looks out for Sam.”

Luca turned and caught Hayley’s innocent eyes with his dark ones. “Frankie looks out for his entire family.

“Elena is in college because of his money. Mia has a salon because of Frankie, and his family’s restaurant is thriving because of Frankie’s Marcello ties.”

Luca watched Frankie take Sam from his sister and carry him out of the restaurant, presumably to bed. “He loves his family.”

Would Hayley think less of Luca and Frankie if she knew that little Samuel would never know his father—not because he walked away from him, but because he was murdered?

Frankie wouldn’t let his sister marry any Borroni scum, but especially not a second cousin of Lorenzo Borroni.

Luca had hated the idea of killing Samuel’s father, as did Frankie, but it was the only way Borroni wouldn’t be part of their family. Sofia had to believe the asshole had just left her.

Thankfully, she had her brother to look out for her and Samuel.

Nic sat down beside him just as Hayley was whisked away for another dance by one of Frankie’s older cousins. Luca stared after them. All night he’d had to endure other men dancing with his woman.

“Luca.”

He turned as Frankie sat down next to Nic and lit a cigarette.

“Three of Borroni’s men are outside, in the alley behind the restaurant,” Nic said in a low voice. “They want to talk to you. They said they’ll come in if they have to.”

Luca glanced at Hayley. He had to remain calm; panicking would only cause an incident. So, with a nod, he stood up. Nic and Frankie did likewise.

Frankie nodded at his two oldest cousins, Angelo and Daniel, to follow them out. They were Marcello men and worked as heavies—which meant they collected the money and broke bones if necessary.

Angelo was also a Phoenix man—one of Luca’s most loyal, fierce, and trustworthy soldiers.

Luca walked outside with Nic and Frankie on either side and Angelo and Daniel behind. Three men were waiting there, and Luca recognized their leader as Vitali, Lorenzo’s second-in-command.

Vitali smirked as he blew out some smoke. “My boss sends you a birthday present.”

He snapped his fingers, and one of the other men placed a wrapped gift box on the ground between the two groups.

“He also says he’s coming for you.”

Luca laughed at Vitali’s threat, but Vitali didn’t laugh; he just turned to go.

“Tell him I’m waiting!” Luca called out across the back alley of the restaurant.

Vitali laughed then, but he just continued walking to a waiting car, followed by the two others.

Luca and his men stood there in silence, looking at the box. It could be anything—including a bomb. Anything was possible with Lorenzo.

Nic finally approached the gift box and carefully opened the lid. He paused for a second before looking back at Luca and shaking his head. Luca and Frankie walked over, and Luca recognized the head straightaway.

“Deano, goddammit!” Luca said through his teeth before Nic put the lid back on the offending box.

Deano was one of Luca’s informants, a man he’d planted within the Borroni camp. He’d been betrayed, and now he was dead.

“Get rid of it,” he said to Nic, who was the soberest of the lot. “And inform his fiancée. Make sure she’s secure and financially okay.”

***

When Luca and Frankie reentered the party, Hayley was laughing with Sal and Maria. She seemed unaware that he’d even left—or if she’d noticed, maybe she assumed he and his friends were drinking somewhere or having a cigar.

Frankie walked over to join a game of cards, and Luca texted Ric to pick him up, then approached Hayley, taking her gently by the waist.

“Thank you so much for making me feel welcome,” she said to Sal and Maria, who said they were delighted to meet her.

Luca was warned, in Italian, not to be a stranger and to look after Hayley.

During the car ride to her apartment, it was easy for him to forget about the visit from Borroni’s men. He held Hayley close to him, and they laughed and talked together about the party and the Altera family.

When he walked her to the door, she sighed and turned to him. “I don’t have a birthday present for you.”

He smiled and shrugged.

She stepped up to him and put her hand on his cheek, then put her mouth on his. He pulled her in even closer, but she gently pulled away.

“But I can change that,” she said, raising an eyebrow, and he grinned like a naughty boy.

“Come inside.” She unlocked the door and swung it open. “My roommates are at work.”

He picked her up, kicking the door shut behind him, and carried her to her room, where they tore off each other’s clothes and tumbled naked onto her bed.

He wanted her—craved her—and he wanted to give her the best of everything. And he could tell she wanted him in return. Gangster or not, she still wanted him.