Now

Evan

“ARE YOU GIANNA MARI?”

She stops abruptly and her eyes narrow, studying me from top to toe. Finally, her eyes meet mine.

“Who wants to know?”

Her tone is cautious as she pulls her school books up to cover her chest, her arms crossing over them defensively.

“I’m Evan Hart.” I extend my hand.

She eyes my hand warily like I have leprosy or something, and she doesn’t move to take it.

“Who’s Evan Hart?”

Her dark eyes are shuttered, and in between glances at me she’s scanning everything around her, very much like her grandmother did. Is it a by-product of growing up in the mob? It’s reminiscent of what we do in my line of work, always being aware of your surroundings, alert to potential threats.

A light breeze brushes her shoulder-length hair into her face. Pushing her locks out of the way, she nibbles on her bottom lip.

“That’s what I’d like to tell you. Can we talk?”

“I don’t know you. I don’t talk to strangers; a girl could get into trouble doing that. So, no.”

She turns to leave.

“Wait.”

I stride after her, easily falling into step beside her. I feel like a giant alongside her. To my six foot three inches, she’s at least a foot less.

For every one of my steps, it’s about three or four of hers. Now, up close, it’s clear that she shares similarities with me, but she looks a lot like her mother. Renata was a beautiful woman with a bright smile and big doe eyes. While I haven’t seen Anna’s smile, she’s got her mother’s eyes, and she’s definitely a looker.

In the short distance we walk, several punks have checked her out. My inclination is to warn them, to make them take their eyes off her, but something tells me that wouldn’t go over too well as far as first impressions go.

It amazes me how readily I’ve accepted the brother role, and I don’t even know this girl. All the shit my father did has tainted all the wonderful childhood memories I have, but discovering I have a sister and the possibility of getting to know Anna is the silver lining in all this.

She’s the only family I have left—well, that’s not true. Carys is my family and so are Ry and the rest of them, but Anna is the last connection I have to blood. I didn’t realize I cared about that until now.

“I saw a coffee shop just a block down the street, we could go there?”

Looking left then right down the street and then back at me, she finally nods and says, “Fine.”

She turns on her heel and we walk in silence for a bit, until I can no longer keep my curiosity at bay.

“Your given name is Gianna, but you go by Anna. How come?”

Halting, her head tilts back as she guardedly observes me. Her eyes assess and contemplate while she wrinkles her brow and bites her bottom lip.

“My name’s Anna,” she says stiffly.

“Okay, but you were born Gianna Mari, right? And your mother was Renata Mari, and Paola is your grandmother?”

She hastily stops, ramrod straight, her arms further tightening around her books as her gaze sharpens and her lips form a thin, tight line.

“Who are you?” she asks pointedly.

“I’m trying to tell you.” Sensing her unease and wanting to put her fears to rest, I say, “Let’s go inside to talk. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” she scoffs defensively, although everything about her screams anxiety.

I hold the door for her and we enter the coffee shop, the very one I first saw her in nearly two weeks ago. The place is busy with a mix of college students and professionals hanging out and waiting for their drinks.

There’s a vacant table by the door. I’d have preferred somewhere more discreet, but knew it wasn’t possible. She likely wouldn’t have agreed to it and her entourage, Mari’s men, who are looking on with interest, wouldn’t have let it happen anyway.

This meeting will be reported back to her grandfather, and in time he’ll figure out who I am. It couldn’t be avoided, and I’m prepared to face him.

“Do you want anything?”

“No, can we just get this over with?” Her unease paints her tight expression. “You wanted to talk to me, so talk.”

“Fair enough,” I say, sitting across from her. “There’s really no easy way to say this. What do you know about your father?”

Pursing her lips into a frown, she pushes the chair back from the table. Her body language is closed off and uncertain. “I don’t know anything. Why?”

“Okay, this isn’t how I wanted to do this, but this is my only chance. I’m your brother.”

“What?”

“Your father is Ciaran Hart.”

“And you know this how? Why should I even believe you?”

“I found out not too long ago and had all the same thoughts and questions. It was your grandmother, Paola, who told me.”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her mouth slightly open as her eyes search mine skeptically, perhaps looking for the truth or some sign of a motive.

“She reached out to me to tell me who you are.”

“Why would she do this? You keep calling her my grandmother, but she’s never been anything to me. She’s not my grandmother. I have no clue why she’d say something like this to you. It’s likely some plan and I want nothing to do with it.”

She gathers her books with the intention of leaving and I gently grab her wrist. I hope I can get her to stay.

“Let go of me.” Her voice is soft and shaky, not nearly as firm as she intends it to be.

She’s putting on a brave front, but I sense she’s lived a sheltered life. From what Coop’s gathered, her aunt was her only human contact. I’m not sure how comfortable she is in public. Her unease may be due to a combination of me, our conversation, and the fact that she’s out in public.

I recall the last time I saw her here, when she very much tried to be invisible. Perhaps she knows she’s a target or of interest to her grandfather? Perhaps she feels if she’s small and insignificant, he’ll leave her alone? Unfortunately, there’s no chance of that.

“I know you’re confused and I don’t know your story or your relationship with Paola, but her story checks out and it makes sense. We can do a DNA test if you want, so that we’re both one hundred percent sure.”

I never set out to suggest a test, although I usually would have one done to make sure. Strangely, in this case—and I don’t know why—I believe she’s my sister. I don’t need science to tell me so.

Also, knowing what I now know about my father, this fits. He destroyed enough lives that adding two more—Renata Mari and their child—isn’t that far of a stretch.

“You’d do that?” She’s now interested, sitting back down and facing me head on.

“Yes. Anna, I know you’re my sister, but if you need proof, I’ll get it. More importantly, Paola fears for your safety. That’s why she came to me.”

“What? She’s worried about me?” She’s incredulous.

“With your aunt dying”—her lips slightly tremble at the reality of her aunt’s death—“and you having no one else to care for you, she feels you’re vulnerable, that your—”

“I’m twenty-four, an adult,” she fires back. “She’s worried about Franco, isn’t she?”

“Yes. You may be an adult, but you have no freedom.”

She swallows with difficulty. I’ve hit a nerve.

“What can you do about it?”

“I want to help, to take you away from this situation. You’re my sister and I’m not going to walk away from helping you.”

“Half-sister, if it’s even true.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“This is insane.” She shakes her head in bafflement. “So, what’s next?”

“I’d like to get to know you, spend time with you, understand your situation, if that’s okay with you.”

“My situation? You make it sound like I’m in jail or something. It’s nothing like that. Sure, I’ve been shunned and neglected by my mother’s family, but I’m fine without them.” Her tone is bitter, belying her words. “Zia is dying and I don’t know what I should do. She’s told me she’s left everything to me. I’m like a daughter to her, and she’s the only mother I’ve ever known.”

Her voice breaks as she drops her chin down to her chest. Her dark hair curtains her face as she shakes gently.

“Anna.” I try to soothe her as I reach for her delicate hand. “We both know who your grandfather is. Your grandmother thinks he has plans for you, plans that won’t take your wishes into consideration.”

“She said that?” Her head snaps up as she pulls her feet up onto the chair and curls in on herself, appearing tinier, if possible.

“Yes.”

Letting out a jagged breath, she clears her throat. “I thought I was out of sight. I haven’t seen him in over a year and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen that man in my entire life. There may have been more when I was younger, but I don’t remember them. Recently, when he’s visited Zia, he’s made it clear that I am not to be seen.”

“That may be, Anna, but he’s very aware of you and likely cares for his own reasons. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have men watching you.”

“You know about that?” Nodding, I urge her to continue. “I’ve listened even though I’ve been out of sight. I’m potentially useful to him. Women are bargaining chips, to be used in business arrangements and partnerships. I guess that’s what Paola means, then. He has plans to marry me off for his gain.” Her tone is resigned.

“I don’t want that for you.”

“Neither do I,” she whispers. “But what can you do?”

“I can get you out of this, somehow.”

“How? Kill Franco?” she hisses. “You’re going up against the mafia? If so, you’re crazy. You can’t win. If he has plans for me, then that’s it. I’ve never had a say in my life.”

“I haven’t figured out that part yet. I’ve got my best guys on it and we’re trying to think of a solution for how to make that bastard happy and get you out of his clutches. We’ll come up with something.”

I’m reassuring her as much as myself because we’re not even close to a viable option. While I would have preferred waiting until we had something, I couldn’t risk waiting any longer. Tina is days away from passing and who knows if that’s the trigger, if her death will prompt him to make his move.

“Evan, you seem like a really nice guy and I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I don’t see a solution.”

“There has to be.”

§

Carys

RINSING THE LAST OF the dishes, I give it to Ry and sigh with relief. Raising my hands above my head, I stretch in hopes of working out the twitch in my back. Big, warm hands slide across my stomach, causing me to jump in surprise.

“Evan, you came.” Whirling around to face him, I wrap my arms around his neck. “I was getting worried because you said you’d be here for dinner.”

“Sorry, Sweetness.” His lips crash onto mine, his tongue filling my mouth as he tastes me thoroughly. All my anxiety, every bit of concern and trepidation I had, vanishes with his kiss.

“Get a room,” Ry says as he stacks the dish in the cupboard. “I want you guys together, but I don’t want to see it.”

“Shut up, dude,” Evan growls. “Get out.”

My brother laughs, sauntering out of the kitchen as I sag into Evan’s arms, content to stay here. We’re in a really good place, spending as much time with each other as possible. We’re not really getting reacquainted because I could never not know him, but we’re just taking things slow.

He has tried a few times to get me to move in with him. He refuses to move back into the townhouse without me, and in the meantime, he’s living in a dingy apartment a few blocks over from the bar.

At some point, we will move in together. It’s inevitable and what I want, but I don’t want to rush things. I’m still trying to get Greg out of my life. While we’ve been apart over six weeks now, he keeps finding excuses for not coming to get his things.

“How’d it go with Anna?”

“Good,” he murmurs into the top of my head. “She’s fragile, but not, if that makes any sense. She’s not worldly, but she’s astute and is fully aware about what we’re dealing with. We need to figure out how to get her out of there.”

Tilting back, I look up at him, and I see concern masking his face. My hand tenderly skitters across his dark five o’clock shadow.

“We will. If anyone can get her out of there, it’s you.”

A smile slowly emerges as a loving twinkle settles in his gaze. Tugging me closer, he plants a brief, hot kiss on me as his hands grab my bottom, lifting me so I connect with his hard length, and then he squeezes.

“I want you.” His husky voice is low and blistering.

With a low moan, I wiggle in his hold, taunting both of us. “Soon. We can leave shortly. You coming back to my place?”

“Absolutely.” With the corners of his lips curved up, his gaze lingers on my chest. There’s a gleam in his eyes that makes my stomach tighten with desire. “My mouth has a date with your pussy.”