Mom picked me up at Carlottaâs in the early afternoon after a meeting with a client, a Camorra soldier, who was in trouble at the local police station.
Her eyes were practically X-raying me as I got into the car, but Iâd showered for almost an hour, put on plenty of makeup to cover my sickly skin tone, and decided on a colorful dress from Carlottaâs wardrobe. I looked positively peachy.
âYou look nice,â I said, not just to appease her but because I liked Momâs business looks of fitted dresses and blazers with matching pumps. She looked so different from the easygoing Mom I knew from home.
Mom smiled slightly and waited for me to buckle up before she pulled away. âYour father isnât happy that you spent the night at Carlottaâs without a warning.â
âI called last night.â
Mom nodded. âYou did, and we appreciate that, but it still would have been nice if you decided your sleepovers in advance so Dad can make sure security is in place.â
I couldnât help but roll my eyes. âMom, I was at Carlottaâs, and her brother was there. Dad knows Diego can protect us.â
Mom nodded again, focused on traffic as she steered the BMW SUV. âStill, the sudden change of plans made him wonder if something occurred that led to the decision.â Mom stopped at a red light and slanted me a look she probably used on her clients too. Stern and X-raying. âDid anything happen at the party that I should know about?â
I didnât miss that she didnât include Dad. Mom knew that Dad, like many Made Men, could be overprotective. âWhat could have possibly happened? Everyone knows who I am, and the Unholy Trinity would have kicked anyoneâs ass.â
âLanguage,â Mom scolded gently, which I always found funny because sometimes she forgot herself and cursed badly when she drove.
âMy lifeâs horrifically uneventful, just how Dad likes it,â I said. My skin felt warm and itchy even as the lies slipped easily from my lips. I could still sense Momâs suspicion and decided to sprinkle my lie with some truth to get her off my back. âI had a couple of beers and threw up. It was really embarrassing. Carlotta had to hold my hair back, and I got some vomit on myself and her dress. I didnât want to go home like that. You know what Dad would have said.â
Mom pursed her lips. âYou shouldnât drink.â
âEveryone does, and it was just two bottles of beer, but my body simply doesnât tolerate it. Donât tell Dad about it. Heâll make a big deal of it and somehow compare the situation to what happened with Grandma as if me having a drink at a party like every teenager will lead to me becoming a drug addict.â
Grandma was Momâs weak spot. I knew she and Dad had fought because of her in the past, so I felt a tad guilty that I was using it to save my ass, but the situation was too dire.
âWe wonât tell your dad. But you have to promise me not to drink again.â
âNever again?â I joked, almost feeling like myself for a moment. Mom always made me feel better simply by being there and understanding.
âNot at parties, and not any time soon,â she said firmly.
âThanks, Mom. Iâm glad this stays a secret between us.â
A hint of guilt crossed Momâs face. âYour dad wants to protect you, so we shouldnât make it a habit to keep things from him. Itâs ingrained into every man in this world from birth.â As if I didnât know it. Even Davide was already obnoxiously protective, acting as if he were actually the older sibling.
âIâve been meaning to talk to you about something else for a while nowâ¦â
Mom pulled up our driveway. âOkayâ¦â
I waited for her to park beside Dadâs BMW limousine before I spoke again. âYou know I want to gain some experience before committing to a college degree in nursing or medicine.â
âYes, you mentioned interning with the doc,â Mom said, angling her body to give me her full attention.
I bit my lower lip and gave her a hesitant smile. âI really want to spend the summer in New York and intern with the Famiglia doc.â
Momâs face became instantly worried. âThatâs far away, Aurora, and you know peace isnât even a year old.â
âThere was peace for a long time before then, Mom, and now that Amo and Greta are married, neither Luca nor Remo will risk another war. I really want to spend some time with our family in New York. I really miss seeing my aunts and cousins. We donât have any family here, which makes me sad. I know I canât ever see Dadâs family in Chicago, but I want to be with the family weâre not at war with.â
Mom sighed. âThis is a lot to stomach. Itâs May, so youâre springing this on us late. I just worry that this decision is based on something I should know about.â
âI just feel like I need to spend some time with other people. Carlotta will visit family in Los Angeles, and I donât want to spend my summer with the Unholy Trinity or my little brother.â
Mom nodded slowly. âIâd rather you donât spend your summer with the trio either.â
If you only knewâ¦
Memories from last night popped up uninvited.
âWill you say yes to me spending the summer in New York?â I could see the hesitation in Momâs face. âI need you on my side for this. Dad wonât agree if youâre hesitant.â
âIâll give Aria a call tonight. Let me iron out things with her first. If I have a good feeling after my chat with her, youâll have to work your charm on him, and then Iâll talk to him to break down his last defenses.â
I hugged her. âThanks, Mom.â
âI have to chat with Aria first. I havenât made up my mind yet.â
I doubted Aria would say anything that would intensify Momâs hesitation. Aria wanted our family to be together. She missed Dad, and sheâd be delighted to have me with them. Now I just had to survive the weeks until I could leave. Even Mom wouldnât allow me to go to New York before my birthday in ten days.
Once home, I went to my room and didnât leave it except for dinner that evening. I could hear the sounds of laughter coming from the pool on the Falcone premises. I couldnât see it from my window, but I could imagine the trio having fun.
I pressed my lips together. Nevio probably went about his day as if nothing had happened. I sucked in a deep breath as a wave of anger mixed with deep hurt welled up in me. If this wasnât proof that Nevio didnât care about me, I didnât know.
I squared my shoulders. I was done. Once and for all. Iâd had my pity party last night and this morning. Iâd embarrassed myself enough for a life time. I would simply move on from this like Nevio had done. I wasnât going to mope around and cry my eyes out again.
I perched on the windowsill and took out my cell. Since the wedding, I had Isaâs number again so I texted her.
What are you up to this summer?
Write a few essays in preparation for my courses. And hopefully escape New Yorkâs heat and spend a few weeks in the Hamptons.
The Hamptons sound perfect. I wish I could spend the summer with you.
Do it.
I grinned.
Will you be coming alone?
Just me.
Good. Keep me updated. If you want, I can chat with my mother.
That would be great. I need all the support I can get.
Done. Weâll have the summer of our lives.
I blew out a breath. Being this over-the-top positive was a bit un-Isa-like, but maybe she needed a great summer as much as I did. Sheâd gone through some shit herself, so we could both kick each otherâs ass if we moped around.
I felt better, lighter, as if, for the first time in a while, I was the master of my own life, my happiness. Iâd been so dependent on Nevioâs emotions that Iâd felt helpless. Now that heâd broken my heart and Iâd fallen as deep as I possibly could, I could start over.
The next day, I felt marginally better. My thoughts revolved around Momâs conversation with Aria, which sheâd had after dinner last night, but she and Dad had to work early today, so they hadnât been at the breakfast table.
After a rushed breakfast to avoid Davideâs annoying questions about the party, I returned to my room to watch a few of my favorite skateboard YouTubers.
Someone knocked on my door, and my positive attitude went out the window. What if this was Nevio? I was so ready to move on, but I hadnât yet, and a confrontation with him would take a lot out of me. I didnât want to cry. I didnât want to be vulnerable in front of him.
I wanted to give him the middle finger, kick his balls, and send him away. I tried to channel this version of Aurora as I went to my door and opened it with force.
Davide raised his eyebrows. âWhy are you scowling like that?â
âBecause I want some peace and quiet, and Iâm not getting it.â
He made a face as if he couldnât be bothered with my emotions. âWhatever. Iâm heading over to the pool. Do you want to come too?â
It was sweltering, and I would have loved a splash in the pool, but there was no way I would go over to the Falconeâs today. With a little luck, Iâd avoid Nevio until Iâd hopefully leave for New York.
The splashing and laughter echoed through my window again as if to mock me.
âNo, thanks. Iâll stay in.â
âItâs 110 degrees. Youâll melt.â
âIâll turn the AC up, then.â
He shrugged and turned. âNevio asked when youâd come over, just so you know.â
My throat tightened. âYou can tell him Iâm not.â
I closed my door.
Ten minutes later, there was another knock. Gosh, what now? I stomped toward the door and ripped it open.
The floor seemed to drop out from under my feet when I spotted Nevio.
I stared up at him. I couldnât remember the last time heâd bothered coming over. Suddenly, as if reminded of what happened, I felt the soreness between my legs that Iâd successfully ignored all day. Every feeling of mortification and hurt was back.
âGo away,â I pressed out. I began to shut the door, but Nevio shoved it open with his shoulder, slipped into my room, and closed the door.
âGet out,â I said in an even tighter voice. I could feel heat behind my eyeballs, dammit. I would not cry in front of him.
Nevio was in swim trunks, but at least he had the decency to wear a T-shirt over them. If heâd showed up in my room half naked, I would have completely lost it.
âWe need to talk, Rory.â
Rory.
I didnât want him to call me Rory anymore. It had always meant something to me. Now, it meant Iâd been stupid.
âNo, we donât.â
Nevio regarded me as if he didnât understand me but wanted to. Dark shadows played under his eyes. I hoped heâd had the hangover of his life.
âIâm not leaving before weâve talked about this.â
âDo you even remember what happened?â I whispered harshly.
His expression told me he didnât. Massimo must have told him whatever heâd gathered, and this realization made everything ten times worse.
I turned around and stalked toward my window. I couldnât even look at him. He looked almost uninvolved. Maybe I should just call Dad and have him throw Nevio out. Things would be over then, but at least Iâd be spared this painful conversation.
âI donât,â he said. âListen, Rory.â
Again, Rory.
I sank my teeth into my lower lip.
âMassimo thinks we slept together. Things didnât look good when he found you and me in a room.â
This was the whole essence of our story?
âI want your version.â
I swallowed, and then it burst out of me. Everything that had happened just spewed out of me, even the part where I vomited all over the floor. I wanted him to know, and I didnât care.
He was silent for a moment, and I was glad I didnât have to see his face. His hand came down on my shoulder.
I flinched away and stumbled toward my desk. âDonât touch me!â
Not that heâd done much of that last night. What kind of pitiful first time have I had? Maybe Carlotta had a point when she wanted to wait until marriage.
âArenât you overreacting?â he asked. âIt sounds like hardly anything happened. Maybe even your hymen is still intact because I doubt I was really in all the way.â
I whirled on him.
Overreacting?
I couldnât believe he really said that. Could he even imagine how hard it was for me to face him right now?
âHardly anything happened?â I uttered in a shaky voice. âDo you really think this is about myâ¦my stupid hymen?â
His dark eyes searched mine. He ran a hand through his hair, obviously already tired of this conversation.
âListenââ
âNo, you listen!â I hissed, so fucking done with him and his inability to see the problem. âI donât want to see you again. Iâm done with you. Leave me alone, or Iâll tell my father about this.â
Nevioâs expression flickered with harshness at my threat. He nodded once, glanced down at his hands, and then his shoulders moved as if he took a deep breath. The harshness was gone when he looked back up, and the nonchalant attitude was back.
âI was the one who was non compos mentis, as Massimo would call it, and couldnât consent to anything. So I reckon I should be angry with you. I bet your dad will see it that way too.â He grinned as if this was funny. He actually . Was he this oblivious to other peopleâs emotions, this callous? Why was I even surprised?
I turned back to my desk, away from him.
For the first time in my life, rage toward Nevio blacked out my potent infatuation. I could hardly breathe from it, could feel it in the throbbing of my veins, in the hammering of my heart, in the whooshing of my ears.
I gripped the first thing I could from my desk, a heavy hole punch, whirled back around, and hurled it at Nevio. He was closer than expected. As usual, I hadnât heard him move. It flew toward his head, right at his temple. I froze, my eyes widening. His arm popped up, blocking the heavy object. It hit the underside of his arm, right below his wrist.
His face flashed with pain for a bare second, soon replaced by terrifying fury and something Iâd never seen in his eyes. Murder. Pure hunger for blood and carnage.
He took a step back, closed his eyes, and sucked in a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he was in control, and his ability to do so so easily when I could hardly maintain a subpar level of control around him made me even angrier.
I grabbed a book and flung it at him, then another. Dadâs warnings about Nevioâs lack of control flew right past me.
Nevio moved toward me, grabbed my wrist, and jerked me toward him so our chests collided.
I scowled up at him. âYou are everything bad and rotten that people warned me about. I hate you. I donât think Iâve ever hated anyone as much as I hate you,â I hissed, even as my eyes blurred with tears.
Through them, I could see Nevioâs hard face and the bitter smile. âAs you should. Finally, some common sense, Rory.â
âLet me go. I never want to talk to you again. Iâm going to New York for the summer, maybe longer. I donât want to see you.â
A hint of confusion in his eyes changed. Nevio touched my chin with his already swelling hand. I recoiled, but he didnât retreat. âYou belong in Las Vegas, and you know it.â
He released me and stepped back, then walked out of the room. I swallowed hard, fighting for composure, but then the tears burst forth and I couldnât hold them back.
I needed to leave. Iâd beg Dad on my knees if I had to, but I wouldnât stay here.
Massimo inspected my arm with intense curiosity. âThe bruising suggests a defensive injury against an object, not a limb.â
Alessio regarded me without pause. âYou let Aurora break your arm.â
âHis ulna,â Massimo corrected, still prodding my arm mercilessly.
âWhatever the fuck itâs called. The interesting facts arenât your Latin skills, but the fact that Nevio let Aurora break a bone in his body, very likely on purpose, and I bet she still looks pretty unscathed, and he doesnât even seem to be angry.â
Massimo slanted a look up at my face. âI wouldnât retaliate if a female from our family or Fabiâs family injured me for understandable reasons.â
âWhat exactly happened between you and Aurora that night? And what did you tell her today to bring out her nonexistent violent side?â Alessio asked, narrowing his eyes in that mind-reading way he sometimes had.
I bared my teeth. âNothing you need to know. We had a little argument about the details of the night.â
Alessio scoffed. âWe all know Aurora is too in love with you to speak her mind.â
I pushed to my feet. âGet off my fucking back, or Iâll unleash some of my rage on you. Auroraâs none of your business.â
âShe isnât yours either,â Massimo said.
I stalked out. I really wasnât in the mood to have them analyze me. Their track record with girls wasnât very impressive either.
I headed downstairs in search of Nino. He was more experienced when it came to treating injuries, and more importantly, he was less likely to grate on my nerves. He knew less about Aurora.
Of course, Nino repeated the same boring monologue as Massimo about my injury.
âThree weeks with a cast, and you need to rest your arm for four to six weeks.â
âItâll heal faster.â
Nino gave me a condescending look. Nobody could pull it off quite like him. âYour body is still bound to the rules of biology, even if your mind breaks the confines on occasion.â
I laughed. Nino still landed the best punches, and I didnât mean with his fists.