Three weeks to go.
The countdown was on.
A weight pressed down on Andino’s shoulders as he stared at the place card that had been set in front of him alongside four different slices of cake. He was not a sweets person, really. He could do without cake, and sugar.
Not today, apparently.
Today, he had to cake test.
For his fucking wedding.
“The traditional flavors all have a nice twist, as you will all find once you begin the tasting. There’s also our signature flavor,” the baker said, leaning over the table to point at a chocolate cake that Andino was sure tasted exactly like it fucking looked. “This one here. Now, the final one … The lemon cake has a zest—”
“Lemon is disgusting for a wedding cake,” Siena said.
At the other end of the table, Kev made a noise under his throat, and tossed his oldest sister a glare. “You could at least let the woman finish speaking, Siena.”
“I could, but nobody wants lemon flavor in their wedding cake, Kev.”
“She has a point,” Andino murmured, drawing the attention to himself. He would much rather pretend like he wasn’t there at all, but here he fucking was. He might as well make the most of it. “But then again, no one thought to ask the only woman who should really get a say about it, yeah?”
All eyes turned on a quiet Ginevra sitting beside Andino. She, like him, had barely been paying attention throughout this whole charade as well. She didn’t want to be there any more than he fucking did, clearly.
Not that he blamed her.
“I don’t care,” Ginevra said.
There she be.
Ginevra did well on her good days to pretend when it came to this marriage nonsense. She put on a smile, and acted like she gave a fuck. She didn’t step out of line, or do something that might piss off her brothers’ already thin patience. She was the respectful, dutiful wife-to-be, Andino supposed.
And then there were days like this.
Days when she didn’t care to even try. She still managed to be somewhat kind to Andino and Siena, but he figured that was because they were the only ones who made an effort to look out for what she wanted or needed. Kev and Darren surely didn’t give a single fuck about Ginevra, or what she was feeling.
They’d made that clear enough.
Kev passed Ginevra the same kind of look he had given to Siena just a couple of moments earlier. The man wasn’t very good at verbal communication unless it was to tell one of his sisters or his brother an order that he wanted them to follow. Otherwise, he just glared and went on like a foolish prick.
Then again, that’s exactly what Kev was.
A fucking prick.
Well, that was too bad for Kev because this wasn’t about him. And even if the wedding would never happen—Andino was still working on that angle how he could—he didn’t think this needed to be so goddamn traumatic for Ginevra, either.
Andino gestured at his fiancée—fuck, he hated even thinking that—and shrugged. “She doesn’t care. Continue on, I guess.”
“Yes, well, okay,” the baker muttered.
Andino might have laughed at the woman’s befuddlement on any other day, but really, he just found it fucking sad. Even she could tell that this whole tasting bit was pointless. She wasn’t making a wedding cake for a couple that even wanted to get married, and it was palpable.
It made for an awkward tasting.
To say the least …
The baker waved her hands at the pieces of cake in front of everyone at the table. “Well, I will just leave you all to it. I don’t think you need me here.”
Or rather, they didn’t want her there. It was probably obvious, like everything else, frankly.
Kev grunted, and heaved his heavy body out of the chair he had been sitting in. Passing the rest of them a look, he muttered, “I think we could all take a few minutes, actually. I’ll be back—you two, fucking mind.”
He said that with a beefy finger pointed at Ginevra, and then Siena. To Andino, however, the man only gave a nod. He fucking knew better than to open his mouth and spew some kind of shit to Andino. That wouldn’t fly over well for any of them.
Had he mentioned that this tasting—like every other part of planning this goddamn sham of a wedding—had been awkward?
Because it was.
This was exactly why, even though his mother continued to ask time and time again to be allowed to help, Andino refused her. He knew Kim wanted to be involved in some way, even if she knew he wasn’t happy with this whole thing simply because it was her son, and what they all believed to be his only marriage.
He would be married.
And once.
Not to Ginevra, though.
Nonetheless, his mother didn’t need to be a part of this unholy mess. Kim was too good for that shit. He didn’t want her to put effort into something that he only intended on ruining. He wasn’t that horrible of a man to do that to his own mother.
“You up for a visit to see John soon?” Andino asked Siena the second he figured her brother was out of earshot.
It was only them, and Ginevra left in the tasting room.
“Next week?” Siena asked back.
Andino shrugged. “Maybe, or the one after. Depends on how much running I have to do for this fucking nonsense.”
Siena gave him a look. “Be nice.”
“Where was the lie, though?”
“Yeah, well …” Siena glanced at her half-sister, and then back at him. “Just because it is doesn’t mean you have to point it out. That seems cruel.”
Andino dipped his head in Ginevra’s direction. “She knows what this is, girl. God knows, she probably feels the same way. Right, Ginny?”
Ginevra glanced between Siena and Andino with a furrowed brow. Yeah, he bet that was some kind of crazy shit for her to now realize he communicated with Siena beyond this wedding nonsense. They were actually friends.
And allies.
Ginevra would learn that soon enough.
“It does seem pointless,” Ginevra finally said, still looking entirely too confused. “They’re going to pick whatever in the hell they want, anyway. What does it matter?”
Siena sighed. “Yeah, I know. Where’s Snaps? Didn’t you bring him?”
Andino made a face. “Outside with my man.”
“Why?”
“For one, because they likely would have had a fit if I tried to bring him inside. And for another reason—”
“Because he doesn’t like me,” Ginevra muttered.
Andino made a noise under his breath. “Yeah, and that.”
Siena’s brow dipped. “Really? Snaps seems to like … well, mostly everyone. Women more than men.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth?
His dog was just in a mood lately. A lot like Andino, really. He knew exactly why that was, too. Snaps was quite aware that Haven was not around, and hadn’t been for a while. About as long as the time his dog had been in this goddamn mood of his.
He was snappy—appropriate, for his name … or fucking ironic—but especially toward Ginevra. Which was just strange considering she never tried to do anything but pet him.
“He’s got some issues,” Andino said as though he were talking about a child and not an animal. “I’m handling it.”
“It’s because I’m not her, isn’t it?” Ginevra asked. “That … Haven woman.”
Silence drifted down the table with a heavy hand. Andino wished he could lie and say that wasn’t it, but he was getting really tired of lying all the time. It was a lot of work, and Ginevra basically said it anyway.
What difference did it make if he confirmed it?
“Yeah,” he murmured, “that’s a lot of the problem.”
She only nodded.
Ginevra was not stupid.
Quiet, yes.
Sly, sure.
Not stupid.
Andino planned on using that to his advantage. Glancing at Siena, he said, “We’ll talk more on the John thing when I get something worked out.”
“Sure,” Siena replied.
“Should we try the cake?” Ginevra asked.
“Why bother?” Andino shrugged one shoulder, and stood from the table. “None of us are going to actually eat it.”
Ginevra glanced up at him with a knot between her brows. “What does that mean?”
He simply gave her a smile. “You’ll find out soon enough. Just keep doing what you’re told, Ginny.”
• • •
Five days to go.
Andino’s life had been reduced to counting down the days to a wedding that shouldn’t have been agreed to in the first place. He felt like a ticking time bomb that had almost reached its time to blow, but it wasn’t coming fast enough.
He was ready to put an end to all of this.
For good.
But for now?
Andino held his arms out straight, and allowed the tailor to take yet another set of measurements. Not that the man needed it—Andino’s size hadn’t changed since his early twenties. Nonetheless, the man was particular, and demanded Andino be sized each and every time he came in to have a suit tailored.
But … at least if he was here doing this, then he didn’t need to be somewhere else handling the goddamn Calabrese brothers. That seemed like a fair trade to him. After all, he was going to have to deal with Kev and Darren more than he would ever want to soon enough.
“All right, Andino,” his old, familiar tailor said. “I think I have everything. Dante, you’re up next. And stop fucking scowling, Dante, you know I hate doing your measurements when you scowl.”
“Maybe because you keep finding inches where there are none,” Dante bitched under his breath as he pushed up from the couch.
The tailor still heard his uncle anyway. “That’s what happens as we grow older. Things shift, and move. You still look fine enough for a man your age; as your wife hasn’t left your difficult ass yet, we can all safely assume she feels the same way. Stop whining, and get up here.”
Chuckles passed around the room between the Marcello men. For a second, Andino felt comforted by the familiarity of it all. Had this been any other day … for any other event … he might not have felt the nostalgia be chased away by the heaviness of his impending fucking doom.
Dramatic?
Maybe.
Still felt true, though.
Andino took a seat between his uncle, and his grandfather as Dante stepped up beside the tailor to be measured on the small platform. His boss eyed him from the position with a softer eye than usual.
Normally, Dante surveyed Andino like he was trying to get inside his head, or size him up for what might be coming next. It often made him feel like a bug under a damn microscope, but he was becoming numb to it. This was just Dante’s way. Andino didn’t have to like it.
“What?” he eventually asked.
Dante smiled. “Nothing, just thinking, nipote.”
“Care to share with the rest of the class?”
Antony laughed beside him, and Lucian only smirked.
“You can talk if you can listen at the same time,” the tailor warned Dante, “now widen those legs for me.”
Dante widened his stance for the tailor, and shook his head at Andino. “I’m not sure if I want you to lose that attitude before you take over for me, or keep it and see where it takes you, Andi.”
Andino rested his ankle over his knee, and leaned back on the couch. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter once I’m the one calling the shots, does it?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“That’s the hardest part,” his grandfather said beside him. “Watching the one who comes after you do all the things you wish they wouldn’t. And making sure your voice doesn’t even attempt to overtake theirs in the grander scheme. I suppose that’s why bosses who have taken over after a death find themselves more comfortable than those who have the former boss constantly watching over their shoulder.”
“I don’t intend to watch over his—”
“You will and not even mean to,” Antony interjected before Dante could say more. “I did the same thing for you—why would this be different? It’s what you do or do not do, for that matter, which will make the difference in how the rest of them see Andino once he takes that position in front of them with you still remaining in the background.”
Andino could feel his uncle watching him, but he kept staring at his grandfather. Antony made a good point, and he wondered if anyone else had thought to tell Dante what he had just been told. Andino didn’t think so.
“Arms out,” the tailor said with a tap of his tape to Dante’s chest.
Dante did as he was told, but continued to stare at Andino even when he met his uncle’s gaze, too. “I suppose none of that matters anyway, does it?”
“Why is that?” Andino asked back.
“Because I will be proud of you regardless of what you do as a boss,” Dante said. “Because I am proud of the sacrifices you have made for this family, and how much you’ve stepped up to make sure everyone is protected the way they deserve to be. I will be proud of you for those things even when you do other things that I am sure I won’t agree with, Andino. And I know you think I don’t care or understand just how much you’ve sacrificed, but I do know, nipote. I wish things could have been different for you in that respect.”
Andino stared unflinchingly back at his uncle. “You have no idea, zio.”
Antony was next to get his measurements taken for any final touches on their suits that might need to be done before the wedding in a few days. Andino slipped out the shop when he had a chance, but mostly because his father kept texting his fucking phone nonstop.
Gio should have been there, but he hated going in for measurements more than even Dante did. It was almost amusing how even at his father’s age, Giovanni still didn’t give a single shit about what other people wanted.
“What, Dad?” Andino asked, putting the phone to his ear.
Gio chuckled. “You alone? Took you long enough.”
“Trying to keep Dante amused. What do you need?”
“It’s for you actually. An update.”
“On …?”
“Haven,” his father murmured.
All it took was her name being said for Andino to flinch. It was like a sharp spike suddenly drove into his chest, and left a gaping, bleeding wound behind where his heart used to be. This was so fucked up.
Why was he so fucked up?
“Is now a good time?” Gio asked when Andino stayed quiet.
“Yeah, why not?”
Lies.
It was all lies.
Gio probably knew that, too, but like the good father he was … he listened to what his son said to do, and didn’t press for more details. He’d been the one to offer to keep an eye on Haven from afar without following her to stepping in on her life. Andino’s request. Mostly, he just wanted to make sure the Calabrese idiots left her the hell alone.
Nothing else.
Not yet, anyway.
“She’s still being watched by them,” Gio said, “and yes, it is definitely the Calabrese, like you thought. They’re not approaching her at all, but they are watching her.”
“That’s a smart move on their part.”
“Andino.”
“Well,” he uttered.
Gio sighed. “She flew down to Florida this past weekend to see her parents, but came back on Monday morning. Stopped into the club to say hello, I think, but she didn’t stay. That’s the first time she’s been back there since it sold, according to the guy I talked to.”
“Huh.”
He bet that fucking sucked for her.
“The For Sale sign on the house has a sold marker,” Gio added quieter. “I take it they haven’t fully closed, though, as she’s still there even though she’s moving the rest of her things out slowly.”
Jesus.
The air was gone from his lungs, and it was painful.
She was this close to leaving.
Too fucking close.
“All right, thanks,” Andino said.
“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want.”
“She’s not gone yet. That’s what matters. There’s still time. I can still fix this once I finish with the rest. It doesn’t matter. I’ll fucking fly to Florida for all I give a damn. I can fix it.”
“I know you can, son,” Gio murmured.
His father sounded like he believed him.
Andino wasn’t even sure he believed himself.
• • •
Showtime.
Andino carefully balanced the large white box with the matching satin bow in his hands as he maneuvered through the halls of the church. He only set the box down long enough to greet his mother when she came out of her dressing room.
“Look at you,” Kim said, smiling widely. She fixed his tie—though he knew it wasn’t crooked because his father, uncles, and grandmother did the same goddamn thing earlier—and smoothed the lapels of his tux with the kind hands only a mother could have. Proud, he thought. She looked proud of him. “You’re so handsome, my boy.”
Andino smiled. “Thank you, Ma.”
“Are you ready for today?”
“More than ready.”
It wasn’t a lie.
He was ready for today.
It was the beginning of the end, so to speak.
Kim’s smile faltered for a brief second. “Really?”
Andino shrugged, and bent down to kiss his mother on her forehead. He stayed there for a few seconds, knowing this was what his mother deserved. She always wanted to make sure he was happy, and so he wanted to do the same with her.
“Really, Ma. Don’t you worry about me today. All I want is for you to enjoy the show.”
Kim raised a brow at that statement when she glanced up at her son, but Andino only winked. She patted his cheek, and said, “I better go find your father. You’ve got all of an hour before you need to be down at the altar. Got it?”
“No worries. I don’t need a reminder.”
Andino said goodbye to his mother. She went one way down the hallway, and he went the other. It took him another ten minutes before he was on the other side of the church where the bride-to-be and her family had been situated for the day.
He could hear the cheerful laughter of Kev and Darren Calabrese before he even opened the hallway door. That sound alone was enough to send Andino’s rage spiking higher—he could not despise those two men more than he did—but he tampered the emotion down. He remained a blank slate as he pulled open the door to find the brothers sharing a drink in the hallway, and clinking beer bottles.
“Andino, what are you doing down this way?” Kev asked.
Entirely too happy.
Andino lifted the box in his hands. “I thought Ginevra might like a gift.”
Darren cocked a brow. “Bad luck to see the bride—”
“I’m not superstitious, but thanks for your concern.”
The younger of the two narrowed his gaze at Andino. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have more than enough time to spend with Ginevra after the wedding, Andino.”
“And right now when I give her this gift.”
Darren didn’t look like he was willing to back down. Neither was Andino, really. Darren was smart like that where Kev, on the other hand, was a fucking idiot. Maybe he felt something wasn’t right—he would be correct—but it didn’t matter.
Andino was going to do what he was going to do whether either of them liked it or not. He didn’t need their fucking permission to give Ginevra her wedding gift.
Kev laughed, and slapped his brother on the back. “Relax, brother. This is a good day, huh? We’ve been waiting for this. Let him have a moment.” Then, to Andino, Kev added, “We’ll give you a few. Siena is helping Ginevra finish getting ready. We have to check on the other two girls, anyway.”
Andino nodded. “I appreciate it.”
Kev grinned in that way of his as he passed Andino by. This stupid fuck thought he was about to get everything he wanted. All the things his father had never been able to achieve as a Cosa Nostra boss was suddenly at the tips of Kev’s fingers, and he was craving it something bad.
Andino had news for him … it was never going to happen.
It didn’t matter.
Kev would learn soon enough.
Once the brothers were out of the hallway, Andino gave one last look over his shoulder before he headed for the bridal suite. Rapping on the door with two knuckles, he stepped back and waited for someone to open the door. No one did, but he did hear footsteps come closer to the door.
He knocked again.
“Jesus Christ, Kev,” he heard Siena snap behind the doorway, “just give her a few minutes, okay?”
Andino raised a brow. “It’s me, actually.”
“Oh.” Slowly, the door was opened. Siena popped her head through the crack, and gave Andino a look before her gaze dropped down at the box in his hands. She looked ready for the day all dressed up in her silk and chiffon pale blue gown that would match Ginevra’s other two sisters’ dresses as well. “What do you need?”
“A minute with Ginevra.” Andino smiled. “And you.”
Siena cleared her throat. “Now’s not the best—”
“I really don’t have time for this, Siena.”
“Just … give me a second, okay?”
Andino sighed. “Fine, but hurry. We’re running out of daylight.”
Not really, but he was running short on time.
Siena closed the door, and he waited. It was less than a few seconds before shouting started to filter out from behind the door. Yells, and crying.
Jesus Christ.
Andino shot a look down the hallway, and figured, he needed to get that noise under control before someone came looking to see what in the hell was going on. None of them needed that kind of problem.
Not if this was to happen the right way, anyhow.
Instead of waiting for Siena to come back to the door like she told him to, Andino opened it and slipped inside. He closed the door behind him quickly, and spun around to face whatever hell was happening inside the space.
Across the room, he found Siena trying to console a sobbing, messy Ginevra. Her makeup was ruined, and her white wedding gown had been thrown to the floor—entirely forgotten, it seemed. Or unwanted.
Yes, unwanted seemed like the better word.
“I can’t, Siena,” Ginevra rasped, trying to pull away from her half-sister. “I can’t.”
“Come on,” Siena urged. “Just breathe. It worked last time, remember? Breathe.”
Andino could have let Siena handle the situation, because by the looks and sounds of it, this wasn’t the first time Ginevra had found herself in the midst of some kind of breakdown. The woman had been hiding it well, but today was the day, he supposed.
The end of the line.
There was no hiding it, now.
Andino crossed the room quickly, and kept a hold on the gift tucked under his arm at the same time. Siena caught sight of him coming their way, and her shoulders dropped before she took a wide step away from Ginevra. Andino didn’t think about taking the place she had left.
Ginevra was in such a state that she didn’t even realize Andino was in the room until it was too late. She laid eyes on him, let out a wail, and turned on her heel to dart for the bathroom just a few steps away. She was too late.
He had his arm wrapped around her waist before she could even try to run. She barely weighed a thing—maybe one-hundred-ten pounds soaking wet, he thought. Like this, she just seemed so fucking fragile, and not at all ready for the hell her brothers wanted to put her through.
He’d known that from the beginning, though.
“Stop,” he ordered, dropped her onto a couch. “Don’t you move.”
Ginevra pushed up from the couch with her hands raised, and ready to slap him. “I don’t want to marry you! You can’t make me!”
Andino chuckled. “Good. As much as I like an angry woman, you’re not the one for me, Ginny. Now shut the fuck up, and sit the hell down if you want to leave this church as a single woman.”
Her eyes widened—still full of tears, and red-rimmed. “W-what?”
“Sit.”
She did.
Andino took the box out from under his arm, and set it on her lap. “A gift for you. Consider it your wedding gift, even if this wedding never happens. You’re to use everything you find in it, and if you follow every direction inside to the letter … there is someone outside in a black Porsche. He’s doing me a favor. You get in that car, use what I’ve given you in this box, and you stay gone until I say otherwise. Do you understand me?”
Ginevra’s gaze drifted from the box in her lap, to Andino’s face. “I don’t … Why?”
“You’re not the one for me,” he murmured. “I’m sorry it went on this long. It shouldn’t have happened to begin with.”
She untied the bow, and opened the box. Andino didn’t need to look down to know what she would find inside—paperwork and a fake identity to get her across the Canadian border. Money, and untraceable credit cards attached to said identity. New clothes, and even a sizeable church hat that would give her just enough of a different appearance to get her out of this place.
“His name is Corrado,” Andino said. “And he was told to leave by twelve-thirty whether you were in his car, or not.”
Ginevra looked up again. “Corrado?”
“Corrado Guzzi. He’s a friend, and he owed me a favor. What time is it, Ginny?”
She didn’t know.
Siena answered for her.
“Twelve-twenty.”
“Ten minutes, then,” Andino said. “You better hurry up, and make a choice.”
“That’s not enough time,” Ginevra whispered. “Kev and Darren are—”
“Busy, at the moment. And I can keep them busy for a while longer.”
“I’ll help,” Siena added. “I will, Ginny.”
Ginevra was still staring at Andino, and the tears had started falling again. “Is he nice?”
Andino laughed. “Corrado?”
“Yeah.”
“What does that matter? He’s just going to help for a while.”
“I just … I don’t know.”
“Corrado is … Corrado,” Andino settled on saying. “And he’s a hell of a lot better than what you’re facing if you stay.”
Ginevra nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Hurry up—time is running out.”
Literally.