Borrowed Bride: Chapter 25

“Mamma,” Freya whines, yawning widely as tears cling to her lashes. “I don’t wanna!”

“I know sweetie, I know. I’m sorry, but we have to, okay? So choose which stuffie you want to take with you or I will.” I do my best to soothe her but being woken up this late has her in an understandably cranky mood, and my heart aches to see her so distressed.

Fawn stands nearby, busy on her phone as I wrestle Freya into some clothes and then set her down. “Do you want the pig? The hen? How about Mr. Hippo?”

Freya sobs softly and stretches out her hands for the hippo, then she clutches it to her chest. Having her a little calmer gives me the peace of mind I need to tear through the drawers and deposit as many clothes as I can into the suitcases. I don’t care about my own clothes, only Freya’s.

“This makes no sense,” I mutter as I drag clothes from their neatly folded home. “Why would Dante keep me here for so long if he wasn’t keeping me safe? If he was as cruel and as twisted as to …” I trail off and glance at Fawn who regards me cooly.

I’m still shocked to my core at her revelation, and it throws everything into doubt. Everything I thought I knew about Marco and his family, everything he did to convince me that he was helping those women and not hurting them. The truth, it seems, is to remain clouded and out of reach.

I pack clothing, underwear, and everything else I can think of into the small suitcase, and by the time I close it, Fawn has moved to play with Freya. An unexpected warmth blooms across her narrow features as she does so.

“Marco thinks I’m dead. And all this time, I thought he was dead. I don’t understand.” Dragging one hand through my hair, I pull at the roots and try to ground myself with the flare of pain. “That’s why he’s tearing up the city, isn’t it?”

Fawn nods. “He’s clever. Has people doing his dirty work for him. I thought if I shadowed Leonardo for a while, Marco would appear and I could kill him but no such luck yet.”

“Fawn,” I warn. “I may be completely lost in all of this but I’m still like 80 percent sure you would be killing an innocent man. Or at least, innocent of what you think he did to you.”

The warmth on Fawn’s face vanishes and she stands abruptly. “You really want to have that discussion now?”

“No, I—I just mean that there’s more to this than we both realize. I think.” My hands take another path through my hair. “Fuck, how did I get caught up in this insanity just from picking a pocket?”

“That’s not important. Are you packed? We have to leave now.” Just as she finishes, a soft ding rings through the apartment and we both freeze.

I stare at Fawn with wide eyes. “The elevator.”

She presses a long finger against her lips, pulls a long blade from her pants and slips from the room. I run to Freya and scoop her up into my arms, along with the pillow, then retreat to the farthest corner of the room.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on but someone else turning up this late at night can’t be good. I’m defenseless, but I will protect Freya with everything I have.

Silence fills the air and it’s almost suffocating. My heart pounds painfully against my ribs and it’s all I can hear other than Freya’s sniffles. Then the sounds of grunts and something heavy falling in the hallway drifts through the door.

Then, more silence.

I kiss the top of Freya’s head, smoothing her hair down repeatedly while I stare at the door, terrified of who might walk through. What if it’s not Fawn?

What if it’s Dante?

The hinge creaks as the door slides open and my heart punches against my throat, then Fawn’s head pokes through. “Come on,” she demands as I breathe a gigantic sigh of relief. “We’ve lingered too long already.”

I’m on my feet instantly and I hurry after her, cradling Freya while Fawn takes my suitcase. Out in the hall, the moment I glimpse blood I hide Freya’s face against my chest.

“Don’t look,” I whisper, stepping over the two bodies in the hallway. “Don’t look, sweetie. That’s it.”

She remains innocent all the way to the elevator, and I refuse to let her look until the doors have closed. The control panel on the inside is hanging off the wall by a few wires and I glance at Fawn.

“Your handiwork, I take it?”

She shrugs. “Fingerprint scanners are too easy.”

As the elevator rushes down, my stomach twists into knots. I have been here for so long that stepping outside feels alien. Like I’m doing something wrong or spitting on Dante’s kindness.

His kindness has grown sour with Fawn’s revelation.

“Come on.” The doors open and Fawn steps out, then she holds out a hand for me to follow. “You have to trust me, Gianna. If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done that upstairs?”

Stepping out of the elevator into the crisp night air. The very edges of the skyline begin to turn pink, teasing the early sunrise as emergency sirens screech through the air.

I haven’t been outside in so long.

The city stinks, and I wrinkle my nose.

“You’re right,” I reply, adjusting Freya against my hip. “You’re right.”

Fawn nods, then she leads me to a silver car that’s parked nearby. My heart continues to race as I constantly have to evaluate how safe each of these decisions is for my daughter, but all of that screeches to a halt when I spot Cherry in the driver’s seat.

I haven’t seen her since that fateful night at the hospital and my eyes widen.

“Trust me,” is all Fawn says as she opens the rear door for me. “Please?”

Once again, I find myself with no real choice to make. Going back isn’t an option because I have to assume Dante sent those guards. And sending them tonight, on the same night that Fawn appears? That’s one hell of a coincidence.

“Just so you know,” I mutter, sliding into the car and having to keep Freya in my lap since there is no car seat. “I will never forgive you, Cherry, for what you did to Tara.”

“Six years is a long time to hold a grudge,” Cherry replies, popping some gum as Fawn slides into the car. “You’ll change your tune real soon pumpkin.”

The sliver of time before late night becomes early morning is an odd time to be awake. The streets are quiet except for emergency vehicles and a few people driving home, and Cherry takes multiple back streets and alleys on our way to our destination.

Which turns out to be an old, run-down building on the outskirts of the city. As I climb out of the car with a sleeping Freya in my arms, I glance behind me to the hill that arches down to the city below. It looks so beautiful this high up. It’s difficult to believe so much of my pain has existed in there.

Fawn leads me inside and shows me a room to put Freya to bed. She’s so tired that she doesn’t even wake up as she changes from my arms to bed, and I kiss her forehead repeatedly. Then, I follow Fawn to a rundown kitchen.

Despite the peeling paint, faded tiles, chipped countertops, and windows stained with age, there are warm signs of life here. Dishes in the sink, magnets on the fridge, a pot bubbling on the stove and the scent of coffee in the air.

“I’d offer coffee,” Fawn says. “But you’re going to need something stronger.”

“Why?” I ask as Fawn unscrews a bottle of vodka and fills a glass she takes from the drying rack. She slides it toward me and then tilts her head, indicating behind me.

I turn around.

“Tara?!”

Tara, looking every bit like the girl I remember and yet somehow more beautiful, stands in the doorway with a bright smile on her face. “Hey, Gianna. It’s so good to see you.”

I throw my arms around her and drag her into a tight hug, and then the wall breaks. The last thread of my sanity that’s been focused on keeping Freya safe, snaps at the sight of a true friend, and I sob on her shoulder as I clutch at her.

“I can’t believe it,” I wail. “I can’t believe you’re here, I can’t believe you’re really here!”

Tara hugs me back just as tightly and guides me back toward the chair Fawn pulls out for me. We sit, and Tara laughs softly.

“I’m here,” she says. “I’m more amazed that you are.”

“I’m not dead!” I say as we part, and tissues appear in my hands. “I’m not dead.”

“No,” Tara says warmly. “You’re not.”

“Are you okay? I saw that bitch, Cherry, and I was so mad that I—” It’s then I realize where the tissues came from. Cherry stands in the doorway and snorts.

“You did nothing,” Cherry says.

I glare at her through tear-soaked lashes. “Yeah, but I’ve planned it.”

“Hey.” Tara takes my hand, drawing my attention back to her. “Cherry and I are good.”

“What? How can you say that after what she did to you? Seeing you in that hospital because of me broke my heart.”

“I know,” Tara soothes. “But we’ve had a long time to work out our differences.” She glances at Cherry with a warm smile.

“Five years,” Cherry says.

“Five years,” I repeat. Turning to face the table, I take the vodka that Fawn prepared for me and down it in one gulp, wincing as the burn tears down my throat. Screwing up my eyes, I focus on the pain as Cherry excuses herself and Tara squeezes my thigh.

“Okay,” I say hoarsely as the burn fades. Opening my eyes, I look at Fawn. “You have to tell me what’s really going on. I’m tired of being in the dark.”

Fawn sighs. “Okay.” She pours me another drink, and then begins to explain.

“After your death, the Mafia world fell apart. Both families thought the other was responsible for your death, so they’ve been tearing the city apart trying to kill each other.”

“For five years?” I croak. “They haven’t stopped?”

“You’ve seen the news,” Tara snorts. “They’re both like cockroaches.”

“Anyway,” Fawn continues. “After I got out of hospital, Dante was keeping Marco on a short leash. I couldn’t get near him to kill him, and it was pissing me off. That, and I never trusted Dante because he raped me, so I’ve been keeping an eye on him for years. Partly for revenge and partly because I wanted to stop other women from getting sucked up like I did. Like you almost did.”

She briefly closes her eyes, and I try to dry my tears but they just keep coming.

“About six months ago, I noticed he started sneaking away to meetings with members of a third family, the Ricci’s. They were the small family who were actually behind Dante’s kidnapping that forced Marco to rescue him. Only it wasn’t a kidnapping, it was a meeting. Back then, I suspect they were hoping to kill Marco, but he was so hell-bent on finding you that he was just too good.” Fawn rolls her eyes. “So, while Leo and Marco rip each other apart, they’re destroying the two largest families, leaving space for a smaller one to sweep in and pick up the pieces. To me, it looks like Dante has a plan. He’s letting Marco and Leo kill each other so that the Ricci’s can come out on top, then Dante will join them likely by marrying their heir, Tianna, and becoming top dog once again.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe out. After a few seconds, I take the next glass and drink a few mouthfuls. “Why doesn’t he just kill Marco then if he wants power back so badly?”

“Killing one and leaving the other wouldn’t give the Ricci’s the smooth entrance to power that they clearly want. They’re banking on Marco and Leo draining themselves and killing each other,” Tara explains.

I clutch at her hand, giving her a watery smile. “Look at you,” I whisper. “You’ve grown so much.”

“So have you,” Tara murmurs. “I saw Freya, she’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Fawn clears her throat sharply. “One thing I do know is that we don’t want the Ricci’s to fill any kind of hole left by the other two, because they are involved in sex trafficking. Their previous don was someone I killed several years ago because of that, and clearly, they haven’t learned from their crimes.”

“But Marco,” I say softly and my heart clenches at the thought of him. “You have to believe me, he really did help those women. The people I called were all real, and I don’t know if there was something else going on or if he was oblivious to something, but I looked into his eyes. I truly believe he thinks he helped those people. And he was stunned to learn you were alive. So …”

Maybe my heart is blinding me to the truth, but of all the awful things Marco has been accused of, I can’t believe he’s a sex trafficker. Not my Marco.

Even now, the flames of love haven’t died down. Mourning him did nothing to quell those feelings and now learning that he’s alive has ignited them like a bonfire.

Fawn drums her fingers on the table. “Given … what you have told me,” she says tightly. “I’m inclined to believe there is something I am missing.”

“I need to talk to him.” I press both hands flat against the table. “If you can get me to him then maybe I can⁠—”

“Fawn!” Cherry bursts through the door, cutting me off with a yelp. “The girl we had on Leo just called. Marco raided him at that club, the Newt, downtown and when they were both inside, it exploded!”

Fawn is on her feet as fast as my heart jumps painfully in my chest.

“They’re on their way to hospital,” Cherry finishes.

“It’s the Ricci’s,” Fawn mutters. “It’s gotta be. They’ll never make it. We need to hijack those ambulances!”