CHAPTER 5
After Enrico left his card on her desk, Kate laid her head down in the circle of her arms. She wanted to weep. Or scream. Vince was a killer. A cold-blooded killer. And if she didn’t play this right, she could be his next victim.
But losing her head wouldn’t help. She took a deep breath. At least she knew where she stood. She had enough cash to see her through a few weeks. Once she knew where she was staying, her parents could wire her some more.
Enrico’s offer seemed sincere; she was more than a little tempted to take it. But he’d been married to a mobster’s daughter; he’d participated in Carlo’s business. Enrico could be as dirty as the Andrettis, only with a finer veneer on top.
A shoe scuffed the floor, making her start. Kate looked up as Vince stepped into her office. His cheeks reddened and his eyes narrowed as anger crawled over his face. Her pulse skittered like a frightened mouse. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I waited until he left.” He paused, breathing fast. “What do you think, I’m fucking stupid?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Lucchesi.” Vince leaned across the desk. “How many times have you opened your legs for him?”
Kate’s skin heated at the accusation. He might be a Mafioso, but she didn’t have to put up with this. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“No. You have a lot of nerve. I saw the two of you. No man like Lucchesi just looks at a woman he wants. And you acted like a perfect little puttana too, playing that game so I’d have to leave. So you could be with him.”
“You’re calling me a whore?” For some reason, the word hurt.
“It fits.” Vince’s fingers opened and closed on her desk, his knuckles turning white when his hands clenched into fists.
Seeing his near loss of control, she rose, her body trembling, a chill racing up her spine. She struggled to keep her voice even. “It’s over, Vince. I don’t have to take this from you.”
He lunged, grabbing her by the hair, and yanked her halfway across the desk, sending her papers and laptop flying. She heard the computer hit the floor and break. He mashed her cheek flat against the wood, then pulled her head up, forcing her to look at him. “You’re my wife, and I’ll call you whatever I want. You’re a whore. A dirty, fucking, whore.” He spat the words at her, his voice low and menacing. For the second time that day, he backhanded her, sending her sprawling into the chair.
Kate’s eyes flooded from the pain in her lip and jaw. Her face throbbed and stung from the slap, her scalp burned as if he’d pulled out a fistful of hair. She tried to gulp down air, but her throat felt too tight. Get up, run, damn it! Her muscles shook, her heart thrashed in her chest, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Couldn’t run.
Vince stalked around the desk. Finally she regained control of her body and launched herself out of the chair, but he slammed her back into it, trapping her. “I’ll see you dead before I see you with a Lucchesi.”
Enrico had nearly reached Kate’s office when the sound of her husband’s raised voice turned his blood to ice. He threw the door open, heard the click of Andretti opening a switchblade. The man bent over Kate, the knife gleaming.
As Andretti’s head turned toward him, Enrico sprang for his knife hand. Capturing the man’s wrist, he crushed the bones, grinding them together. Andretti grunted with pain and lost his grip on the blade, the stiletto clattering to the tiles between them. Throwing his body into Enrico’s, Andretti sent them sprawling to the floor.
Andretti landed on top. The impact jarred through Enrico and he struggled for air. Andretti’s meaty fist hurtled toward his face. He eluded the blow and grabbed Andretti’s left forearm, digging his fingers into hard cords of muscle. They were well-matched, but Enrico had the advantage when it came to weight and height. Straining hard, he finally flipped Andretti onto his back and held him flat, both of them panting with exertion. His voice came out rough when he spoke to Kate. “Get the knife.”
“Don’t you fucking help him!”
Kate picked up the shining blade, then clicked it shut and closed her fist around the knife’s pearl handle, her body shaking. She looked at Enrico with wide eyes.
“Now call my guard, Ruggero.”
“Fucking cunt!”
Kate stepped into the hall. While she was calling Ruggero’s name, Enrico looked down at Andretti. “You will never speak to her or touch her again.”
“You make me fucking sick. Sniffing around another guy’s wife.”
Enrico’s cheeks burned. It was true. But it didn’t excuse Andretti’s behavior. “Take your anger out on me, not her.”
“With pleasure, buddy.” Andretti bucked against Enrico and tried to wrench his arms free. “Let me the fuck up.”
Enrico stared at Andretti until the man looked away. Then he slowly let him go and stood, watching him. Andretti rose from the floor smoothly, appearing little affected by their struggle. He straightened his jacket and dusted off his trousers. Then he stepped close, his face darkening. “I ain’t forgetting this, Lucchesi.” He spat at Enrico’s face. Enrico dodged, but some of the spittle found its mark and ran down his cheek. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.
Antonio and Ruggero burst in and trained their guns on Andretti. Ruggero’s face grew stern as he sighted along the barrel. Enrico’s heart seized. Ruggero was about to pull the trigger. Killing Andretti in front of Kate would ruin everything. “No!” Enrico held up his hand for emphasis and stepped into Ruggero’s line of sight. “No,” he repeated. Ruggero looked at him questioningly. “This is a misunderstanding.”
Andretti snorted. “I didn’t misunderstand you wanting to fuck my wife.” He took a step in Kate’s direction, and she jumped away from him, her back hitting the wall.
“Stay away from her.” Enrico made his voice a low commanding rumble, the tone he’d use with a snarling dog.
Andretti whipped back to look at him. “Fine. She’s your fucking puttana now. I don’t want her no more.” Then he turned to Kate again, his eyes blazing. “This ain’t over, bitch,” he said, then left the room.
“Make sure he’s gone this time,” Enrico said to Ruggero, putting his anger into it.
Ruggero followed Andretti, and Antonio stepped out into the hall, taking a position to the left of the doorway.
Enrico turned to Kate. She was shivering and hugging herself. When he moved toward her, she flinched. “Kate,” he said, his voice as soft as he could make it. “Are you injured?”
She took a breath that sounded more like a sob. He eased toward her, even though she shook her head, backing up along the wall away from him until she reached the file cabinet in the left corner. Stopping there, she sank to the floor, her arms still crossed over her torso. He stopped a foot or so away and crouched down. He refrained from touching her, trying to use his voice to calm her. “He is gone. Ruggero will make sure.”
She continued shaking her head, and he edged closer. “Everything is okay.”
“How is my husband almost killing me okay?” she cried, her voice thick.
Enrico took a deep breath and reached out for her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I will keep you safe. I promise.”
Kate burst into tears, and he pulled her into his arms. She sobbed against him, her body racked with one great shudder after another. Her safety had been ripped away, and by the one person who should have been protecting her. Her husband. Anger welled up in Enrico anew, a molten bolt of iron in his chest. The man was a prick of the first order. He swallowed hard. Dio mio, what Andretti might have done if Enrico had arrived only a few seconds later.
And it was all his fault.
He waited for Kate’s sobs to subside before letting her go. She walked to her desk, groping for the tissue box on the edge, the only thing still on it. Her plant was lying on the floor, the pot smashed, the dirt scattered. She stared at the mess, her lower lip quivering. Then she inhaled deeply and straightened her shoulders. Drying her eyes, she surveyed the wreckage of her office for a few moments before she started gathering her papers.
Enrico picked up her laptop. The case was cracked and so was the screen. “I will make sure this is replaced straight away.”
She looked up at him from where she was kneeling. “Do you really think I’ll be able to come back to work here?”
He frowned. “Probably not. At least not for a while.” He set the damaged laptop on her desk and then leaned against it, crossing his arms. “You should stay with me until this matter is settled.”
She paused in her work, her arms full of file folders and papers. “I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to settle things with him.”
Enrico blew out a breath. “We both have an enemy in the Andretti family. I may be able to negotiate a truce with Carlo, one that covers you as well.” He paused. “What is the alternative for you? A life of running from place to place, looking over your shoulder, hoping Vincenzo has not found you?”
She looked away, shaking her head. “Maybe he’ll eventually forget about me.”
“He thinks you have put the horns on him. He will not forget that.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
He made the gesture for her, folding down all his fingers but the index and the pinky. “He thinks you have made him a cuckold.”
“But I haven’t done anything! Can’t he see that?”
“He is past reason. Giving a man the horns is the worst possible insult to his honor.”
“Then he shouldn’t mind giving me a divorce.”
She truly did not understand. “Kate, you cannot divorce the Mafia.”
She blanched. “I have to try. I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”
“I cannot let you do that, and I cannot leave you alone.”
“I refuse to let other people fight my battles.”
“What you want is irrelevant. All that matters is what you need, and that is protection. Protection that I can provide.” Dio, he sounded like the worst sort of pushy bastard. But he had to get through to her somehow.
She stared at him, irritation riding high on her face. “What are you going to do? Kidnap me?”
“If I have to.” He took a breath and softened his tone. “I am not speaking in jest. Your life is in danger. And I will not stand by and see you killed.” He met her eyes. “I will not allow it.”
“And I will not be ordered around.”
He sighed, unhappy about what he had to do. “Do you have a mirror?”
“In my purse. Why?”
“Give it to me, please.” She got her purse and gave him a compact. He opened it and held it up to her face, reflecting the bruises, the swollen lip, back at her. “Take a look, Kate. Do you think the man who did this to you will ever see reason?”
Her eyes glittered with tears. She took the mirror from his hand.
“I am only concerned with your safety.” He paused, as she stared blankly at her reflection. “You must come with me.”
She took a hitching breath, then blew it out. “You certainly don’t give a girl a lot of options.”
She’d finally heard him. A smile twitched across his lips. “What is that saying you Americans have? It is my way or the highway?”
She laughed, a little too loud, and stood, clutching papers to her chest. “I’m telling you now, Enrico, that it’s my way or the highway, not yours.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “I never had any doubt.”
She set the pile on her desk, starting to sort the papers into neat stacks. He put a hand on her forearm. “That can wait. Or you can take it with you. I can get you a new laptop so you can work from my home, if you want.”
“I’d like that. I’m going to need something to occupy my mind.”
“So you will come with me then?” Grazie a Dio.
“You made your point. I’m stubborn, but I’m not a fool.”
“That makes two of us.” Though in his case, he wasn’t sure about the fool part.
As they were getting in the car, Ruggero caught Enrico’s eye. He leaned close and murmured, “I’ve never known a Lucchesi who didn’t get what he wanted.”
“I assure you, this isn’t how I wanted to get it.” When Ruggero turned to leave, Enrico caught his sleeve. “We need to talk later.”
Ruggero nodded. “I expect my punishment to be severe.”
“It will be,” Enrico said, though he wasn’t sure of his course. Losing Ruggero, when he needed him most of all? Unacceptable. Though neither could he accept such a serious lapse.
They settled themselves in the car, Ruggero up front with Pino. Antonio rode in the other car with Claudio and Santino. Kate huddled against the door, cradling the plastic bag that held her plant in her lap. When Enrico reached for her hand, she allowed him to hold it only briefly.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I hate this. I really hate this.”
“By ‘this’ you mean?”
She gestured around them. “The guards. The need for them. The fact that I can’t go home to my husband or my parents. The fact that my husband is trying to hunt me down, that I’m relying on the kindness of a relative stranger.” She took a breath. “Sorry, I’m ranting.”
Enrico nodded. “You are upset. I would be too, in your position.”
“You are in my position.”
“Carlo Andretti has wanted me dead for most of my life. I suppose I have grown used to the idea.”
“You’re awfully blasé about it.”
“I assure you, I am anything but blasé when it comes to Carlo. At the same time, I cannot let him rattle me.”
“So you think I’m overreacting?”
Madonna. She was touchy. “No, I think you are reacting exactly how one would expect.” He stroked her hand. “There is nothing wrong with being frightened.”
She made a small sound. Would she start crying again? But she swallowed it down and hastily wiped her eyes, looking out the window. “So I’m finally going to see the famed Lucchesi estate.”
“I do not know how famous it is. But I think you will like staying there.”
“Whenever I tell anyone where I work, they always ask if I’ve seen your place.”
“When my father moved the family here, he wanted to establish a worthy home for generations of Lucchesis. He gave the villa to me as a wedding gift.”
“Where did your family come from?”
Merda. “Calabria.”
She raised an eyebrow. “And you told me you weren’t part of the ’Ndrangheta.”
“Not all Calabrians belong to the ’Ndrangheta.”
“Just most of them?”
He nodded, wanting to change the subject. “How did you meet your husband?”
“At a party in New Jersey. He knew my cousins. They thought he was a good guy.” She snorted. “So did I.”
“I am sure he has some good qualities. He must care for you a great deal to be this upset.”
“Are you saying I should be happy he wants to kill me?”
“In a way, I suppose.”
She shook her head. “Are all Italians so screwed up?”
He laughed. “The stereotypes are not entirely inaccurate. We are a passionate people.”
“I hope you’re not saying his behavior was justified.”
“Not at all. Just… not unexpected. Southern Italian men in particular are rather possessive and mindful of slights to their honor.”
“And you—do you consider yourself southern or northern?”
“Southern by blood, but northern by temperament. I was raised here. My father is disappointed I am not more like him.”
Kate looked at him, her eyes soft. “I’m surprised he would feel that way.”
Enrico shrugged. “He has his reasons.” He stared out the window. “Perhaps I would not be in this situation if I were more like him.”
“How do you mean?”
“If I had been more prudent, more careful about some of my choices….” He trailed off. That wasn’t really true, except for the decision he’d made today about Kate. And it was his father who’d gotten him in trouble in the first place, his father who’d made the decisions that had bound Enrico to the Andretti family. But he couldn’t fault his father. He’d probably have made the same choices.
“What are you thinking about?” Kate asked.
Enrico gave her a wan smile. “My father.”
“You love him.”
His throat tightened. “Very much.” He rubbed at his eyes and swallowed hard. “He is a remarkable man. We do not always agree, but we both know family is the most important thing.”
Kate smiled. “I get the sense you are more like him than you know.”
Enrico looked at her carefully. “Was that a compliment?”
“I hope so.”
He smiled. “I am glad you no longer seem to feel I have kidnapped you.”
“Oh, I’m not happy about any of this. But… I’m grateful you offered to help me.” She glanced at him, then her eyes darted away. “I feel I can trust you.”
Warmth radiated in his chest, as if the sun had just come out. He touched her hand lightly, his fingers barely lingering over hers. “You can.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, then she turned to him. “Does your father live near here?”
Enrico hesitated before forcing himself to admit what he didn’t want anyone to know. “I do not know where he is, and he does not want me to know. I have not spoken to him in some time.” He heard the wistful tone in his voice and tried to make it more neutral. “He had a heart attack when I was twenty-nine. I took over the family business then. It has been difficult for him since… the accident.”
“What accident?”
He hated lying to her again, but what else could he do? “My mother and brothers were killed in a car crash when I was sixteen. It nearly killed my father. He has not been the same since.”
“I suspect you haven’t either.” She gave him a concerned look and touched his hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how devastating that was.”
Her somber tone, the slight quaver in her voice, took him back to that time-stopping moment of disbelief, when he’d first heard of their deaths. And then to the moment after that, when he’d first believed and the weight of the loss had threatened to crush him. He closed his eyes for a second, the ache in his chest nearly overwhelming. His family, Antonella… there’d been too many deaths. He cleared his throat and opened his eyes, but had to look at the ceiling of the car instead of her. “Thank you.” He paused, then said, “I wish you could meet my father.”
“You have no way of finding him?”
“He wants to be alone, and I am trying to respect that. He has earned his peace.” Dio only knew if he had found any.
They were silent as the car turned down a gravel drive, rounded a copse of trees, and Enrico’s home suddenly appeared before them.
“You seriously live here?” Kate asked as they pulled up before a huge palazzo on the lake. He’d called it a villa, but that was far too modest a word for a structure that rose three stories and looked like it could house at least a hundred people. Stretching above them in the honeyed light of early sunset, the ivory edifice seemed clad in molten gold.
Enrico looked up at the many windows and balconies facing them and smiled. “Welcome to my home.”
He escorted her inside the foyer, which opened into a soaring space that extended up two stories. She’d never been in a private home so grand, not even when she’d dated the doctor who had a place in the Hamptons. Two spiral staircases, which led to the separate wings of the house, curved upwards on each side. Marble was everywhere—on the floor, on the columns, even on the walls as decorative moldings. Her steps echoed as she turned around, trying to absorb what she was seeing. Old masters hung here and there, and sumptuous fabrics and finishes shone from various surfaces. The dark wood furniture was heavy and antique. Taken as a whole, Enrico’s “villa” made her parents’ home in upstate New York look like a shack.
Kate looked at Enrico. Who is he, really? “Looks like you crushed more than a few competitors to get all this.”
Enrico shrugged. “It is mostly my father’s doing.”
“You can’t maintain all this without a lot of cash.”
Enrico surveyed her for a moment. After an uncomfortable silence, he spoke. “Would you care for a tour?” His tone was neutral, as if they both hadn’t been less than polite.
“I would love it.” She let his coolness slide by unremarked.
Kate followed him through a series of rooms on the first floor—a sitting room, a media room, a dining room, his study, a solarium, and so on—and then he took her up the stairs to her room on the second floor.
He opened a door midway down the hall, and they stepped inside an opulent suite. The room looked like something out of a museum. Steel-blue silk brocade covered the walls, and a king-size canopy bed stood at one end, yards of space around it. Heavy midnight-blue velvet curtains framed the two windows, which overlooked a garden and a large swimming pool. A delicate upholstered love seat and two chairs in silver damask curved around a fireplace opposite the bed. All the wood in the room was a dark, richly burnished mahogany that gleamed under the lights. She was afraid to touch anything.
A maid materialized out of nowhere and stepped inside, bowing her head to them. “This is Maddalena,” Enrico said. “She will take care of your room and anything else you need. Just press this button on the wall.” He tapped a finger beside a small round black button above the light switch. He pointed to his left at two doors. “The closet and a full bath are through there. Please make yourself at home. Shall we meet downstairs in my study in an hour?”
Maddalena bowed and left, and Enrico was about to follow her when Kate said, “I hate to bother you further, but I have only these clothes….” She gestured to herself.
His eyes swept up and down her body, and she blushed at the scrutiny. When he looked into her eyes, a smile crept across his face. “I believe there are some clothes here that may fit you.”
“Will your wife mind?”
Enrico shook his head. “As I said earlier, she is dead.”
“But didn’t you remarry? You’re wearing a ring.”
He looked at the simple gold band. “I cannot take it off.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?”
He froze, and she apologized, blushing deeply. Idiot, idiot, idiot. “I’m sorry, Enrico, that was uncalled for.”
He stared at the carpet. “When you have lost a spouse you loved, then you will know how true that is.” He looked at her then and gestured at her left hand. “And you? Do you still love your husband?”
Kate looked at the wedding and engagement bands on her ring finger. A mix of emotions closed up her throat. She’d entirely forgotten about the rings, but she’d be damned if she’d wear them for one second longer. Yanking at them, she found they wouldn’t budge, and she cursed under her breath. By the time she finally wrenched the rings off and tossed them on the carpet, she was close to tears. One of the rings bounced up and hit the wall, landing near Enrico’s shoe. He bent down to pick it up.
“Leave it,” she said, her voice thick.
He looked at her questioningly. “It is an expensive ring.”
“I don’t want it.” Her chest heaved with the effort not to cry. “I don’t want anything that reminds me of him.”
He bent down and retrieved both rings. “Would you like me to sell these for you? I know you could use the money.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak over the lump in her throat. The softness of his tone only compounded it. How could he want to help her after what she’d said? Can’t or don’t want to? What a bitch she was.
He pocketed the rings, then turned and left. She followed him into the hall and stared after him, her face burning crimson. “Enrico.” She raised her voice to just below a shout. He paused and half-turned. “I’m so sorry,” she said, advancing toward him.
He nodded curtly, then turned and resumed walking. She faltered and stopped. Damn it. She hadn’t handled that well at all.
Enrico burned as he continued down the hall. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring her here. Maybe she wasn’t who he thought she was…. He took a deep breath. Actually, she was exactly who he thought she was. Intelligent, direct, and assertive. Her question had hurt because it was so on the mark. He’d been acting like Toni had an impossible to break hold on him when it was the other way around. He didn’t want to let go of her. If she were still here, she’d have told him to quit wallowing and move on with his life. Hadn’t she said as much at the end? That he had to let her go?
He reached the end of the hall and stepped inside his suite, closing the door behind him, shutting Kate out, shutting all of it out. He leaned against the heavy wood for a moment, absorbing the hush of his room. Then, before his nerve failed him, he crossed over to the double walk-in closets and opened the one that had been Antonella’s.
All her clothes were still in their places. The dresses, the slacks, the satiny blouses she liked to wear. The rows of designer shoes and handbags. He inhaled deeply, picking up the scent of finely tanned leather, and underneath it, the freesia and jasmine of her perfume. The carefully sealed hole in his chest burst open, piercing him with an ache that reached up into his throat and threatened to strangle him. Toni. He closed his eyes, reaching out and burying his hand in the deep brown fur of her sable coat. When had she worn it last? Winter, two years ago, in the garden. Before they knew she was ill. She’d kissed him in that coat, her lush body pressed against his, buried under that softness, that warmth. How he’d wanted her.
He opened his eyes and let go of the coat, then released a shuddering breath. Clothes for Kate. He had to focus. He picked out a black flowing skirt, a pair of charcoal trousers, and a couple blouses. A swimsuit. Things he didn’t particularly remember Antonella wearing. He added a red slip, one that still had a tag on it, to the pile. Something Kate could sleep in. He opened drawers, found an unopened package of lacy black underwear to add to the stack. That was enough for now. He’d get Kate her own clothes in a few days.
He closed the closet behind him, then marched back down the hall and knocked on her door. She opened it and looked at him bashfully. “Enrico, I didn’t mean—”
“You did mean it.” He stared at her for a second. “And you are right, it is time to let her go. Here,” he said, thrusting the clothes at her. “We will get you something else soon.”
She gathered the clothes from his arms. “I’m sorry.”
“Do not be.” He rubbed his chin, letting out his breath on a sigh. “I am not a child. I cannot keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” she asked softly.
He took a steadying breath. “Acting like she is coming back.”
“Oh.” Kate looked down at the clothes, then up at him. “Do you need help going through her things?”
He wasn’t ready for that. “No. I will take care of it myself.”
“How long were you married?”
“Twenty-five years.”
He could see the wheels spinning in her head as she calculated his age. He helped her. “I am forty-four.”
“You don’t look it. I thought you were about thirty-five.”
He smiled. “I do not smoke. That helps.”
After a brief silence, she said, “May I ask—how long has it been since your wife died?”
“A year ago today.” Pain stabbed through him, but he forced himself not to let it show. He didn’t want to break down in front of her. Or anyone.
Jesus! A year ago today? She was the Queen Bitch of Bitchdom. “Oh God, I was so awful to you—”
“You were right.”
“But rude.” She could barely look at him. He said nothing. “Forgive me?” She raised her eyebrows in a silent plea.
“I already have.”
Relief flooded her body. “It’s a good thing you don’t hold a grudge.”
“I have a long memory.” His tone softened. “But only when I want to.”
“I’ll strive to remain on your good side then.”
He leaned against the doorjamb and looked down at her. “I doubt you could ever fall out of my favor.” When she met his eyes, he looked away, a rush of blood darkening his cheeks.
“Enrico, I don’t want to seem… ungrateful, but….” She let her voice trail off.
“I expect nothing from you. Nothing at all.” He paused. “I enjoy your company. There is no harm in showing my appreciation, yes?”
She smiled. “I enjoy yours as well.”
“Then I hope this whole situation shall not be such an ordeal.”
She sighed at the reminder. “What if you can’t persuade Vince to leave me be? What am I going to do?”
He looked at her, his eyes heavy with meaning. “I will resolve this for you. If it is the last thing I do, I will see you safe.”
The certainty on his face was heartening. “I believe you.”
“Good. Now freshen up and we will meet for dinner in an hour, yes?”
She nodded, feeling better than she had all day. If Vince was the villain in disguise, maybe Enrico was the knight in shining armor. Even if that armor had a touch of tarnish.
Of course, that would make her the damsel in distress. Kate gritted her teeth. She hated being dependent. But she was in way over her head.
She was in so deep, she’d be lucky if she didn’t drown.