ANTONIO

I can barely breathe as Lauren descends the grand staircase in the foyer of my sister’s house just before the guests arrive. The black dress I had hand-delivered from Versace this afternoon looks like it was made for her. The silk hugs her body, draping into a pool near her feet. Her hand glides down the railing as she takes the steps slowly and keeps her eyes on me without breaking contact.

“You’re one lucky bastard,” Stefano says at my side.

“I know,” I tell him as she reaches the bottom of the stairs, and I step away from him.

She places her hand in mine and smiles. “This dress is beautiful.”

“The dress is only beautiful because of how you wear it.”

She can make anything look spectacular. Even when she wears my oversized dress shirts, she could stop traffic with her beauty.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask, ushering her toward the dining room just as the first guests arrive.

“Please.” She dips her head in a small curtsy.

“The event is formal, but I most certainly am not. This night is to celebrate my mother, but I assure you there will be more fun than seriousness.”

When we enter the dining room, Enzo and Catarina are already standing near the bar, pouring drinks.

“What can I get you two?” Enzo asks.

“Dirty martini for Lauren, and I’ll take whatever you’re having.”

“Whiskey?”

“Works for me.”

Catarina walks toward Lauren, eyeing her dress. “God, that dress is a showstopper.” She grabs Lauren’s arms and helps her spin around. “Gucci?”

“Versace.” Lauren laughs, twirling around again like a princess.

“Aren’t his dresses divine?”

“The best. Yours is so beautiful too.”

Catarina touches the bodice of her pearl-beaded gown and sighs. “It’s beautiful, but breathing in it is almost impossible.”

“Where are Vi and Flavia?” Stefano asks as he joins us.

“Still getting ready,” I tell him as I reach for the glass of whiskey Enzo has poured.

My sisters, all three of them, have always been high-maintenance. Not one of them can get ready in a hurry. They spend hours painting on their faces with gobs of too much makeup and even more time doing their hair. I could never be a woman. So much of their lives are wasted. Lauren is the direct opposite of my sisters. She makes looking beautiful seem effortless.

“Those two are impossible,” he mumbles and grabs a glass and the Cognac, pouring himself a glass.

“Will Marcus be here?” Stefano asks Catarina.

“He’s away on business. He couldn’t get out of it even though he tried.”

Marcus, Catarina’s husband, is an architect at one of the biggest firms in Italy. He’s been working on a project in Dubai for nearly a year, and once it’s complete, the building will be the tallest in the world.

Although Marcus wasn’t my first choice to be my sister’s husband, he’s always treated her with kindness and respect. He could’ve sat on his ass, using her trust fund instead of working to make a name for himself in his line of work.

“Is the project almost done?” Stefano asks.

“What does he do?” Lauren asks quietly at my side as Catarina answers Stefano’s question.

“He’s an architect.”

Violetta and Flavia enter the room, arm in arm and laughing like schoolgirls. Being the youngest children, their behavior was always excused as youth. I miss the days of laughing over the most frivolous things. With age comes complication, but Lauren seems to be changing that quickly.

Flavia clears her throat and tries to regain her composure. “Are you two up to no good?” I ask.

“Angelo just walked in the door and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Vi’s dress.”

“Angelo is…?” Lauren asks.

“Angelo is my ex-boyfriend,” Violetta says as she walks toward the bar, probably needing a drink as much as the rest of us. “Our parents have been lifelong friends.”

“Vi broke his heart.” Flavia hands Vi a glass before grabbing a bottle of champagne. “He’s a pompous ass too. So, don’t anyone say poor Angelo.”

Vi has never brought home a man who wasn’t a pompous ass. Each one is a bigger dick than the last. I fear for my sister’s future. She’ll never settle down if she doesn’t start picking her mates better, but she assures me her main goal in life is fun and not marriage.

With her traveling the world with her band, she’s fully immersed herself in the punk-rocker lifestyle. The little girl with the bows in her hair who would sit in front of the piano is gone and has been replaced by a fierce female and bandleader for one of the biggest indie punk bands in Europe.

“Do not sleep with him tonight,” Flavia warns Vi with an icy glare. “It wouldn’t be nice.”

Vi admires her nails and gives Flavia a devilish grin. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

Stefano sets his glass down on the bar and raises his hands in defeat. “I can’t listen to this.”

“Stop being so old-fashioned, Stefano.” Vi slides in front of him before he has a chance to storm out and places her hands on his chest. “If I were a man talking this way about a woman, you’d be perfectly okay with it.”

Stefano’s eyes narrow as he gazes down at our little sister. I can see the storm raging inside of him as she taunts him.

“Why don’t you praise me for my forward-thinking?” She grins.

“You still have the Forte name, Vi. You represent our family and shouldn’t be whoring yourself around.”

Vi staggers backward. Oh, shit. I don’t know if I’m more scared for her or Stefano. Someone isn’t getting out of this unscathed.

The shock of his words doesn’t last long as she lunges forward and pokes him square in the chest. “Listen, big brother,” she says quietly as the storm inside her grows. “At least I don’t kill people.”

I pull Lauren to my side as I take a few steps away. I’ve been in the middle of their fights, and typically more than one piece of pottery resting nearby ends up hurtling through the air.

“Did she just say that?” Lauren whispers in my ear, watching them in horror.

Stefano’s eyes widen, but he stands his ground. “I have never killed anyone, little sister.”

Technically, he’s not lying. From everything Stefano has told me, he’s never killed someone with his bare hands. Through the years, he has issued orders to his underlings that have led to the deaths of more than a dozen people that I know of, but I’m sure there are even more that I don’t know about.

Vi’s face scrunches up as she moves closer, getting in Stefano’s face. “Maybe you haven’t, but your men did.”

Gone is the picture-perfect family that Lauren has seen for the last day, and now the ugly side of the Forte family has reared its head.

“You’re the one who brings shame upon this family. Almost every day there’s an article about some illegal activity with your name somewhere in the text. Who’s the one who brings more shame to Papa’s name?”

“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. I’ve broken no laws.”

When Vi was younger, she believed his lies. She used to follow him around like a lost puppy, wanting his attention. That was until the kids at school started calling her a killer and left clippings from articles with Stefano’s name on her desk.

“Neither have I. And for the record…” She gets closer, more in his face. “If we compare notches, I’m sure yours still beat mine. You’re a whore too, Stefano, and a criminal.”

Mamma clears her throat, standing in the doorway of the dining room looking nothing less than murderous.

“Oh, shit,” Lauren whispers and grabs my hand.

Oh, shit, indeed. It has been a long time since my mother has witnessed a showdown between these two and doing it on her birthday in front of guests is a no-no. There is going to be hell to pay, but for once, I’m not the center of attention.

LAUREN

“Let’s step out on the veranda. Shall we?” Antonio says, moving toward the guests standing at his mother’s side. “Who would like a drink?”

I follow him, clutching his hand as we make our way toward the doors. Passing by Vi, I give her a quick glance. I empathize with the double standard she lives with every day. I don’t have to deal with my brothers’ ideas of how I should behave, but being in a corporate world that is mostly dominated by men, I’m held to a different standard too.

“Lauren, this is Mrs. Moretti,” Antonio says, bowing his head slightly at the older woman. “She’s one of my mother’s oldest friends.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to see my dear Antonio has found a beautiful woman to be at his side.”

“She’s more than a pretty face, Simona. She’s the head of a very impressive company in America.”

Simona purses her lips as her eyes travel up the length of my body, appraising me. “A powerful woman. I wouldn’t have picked you to fall in love with beauty and brains, Antonio.”

I’m not sure if her comment is a dig or a compliment, but I brush it off and decide she’s being nice even if she isn’t.

“How’s your husband?” Antonio pulls me into his side, probably sensing my agitation.

But I wouldn’t do anything to embarrass him or his family after they’ve shown me so much kindness. I think Vi and Stefano made enough of a spectacle already that his mother deserves a little peace and quiet for the rest of the party anyway.

“He’s quite well. He asks about you all the time.”

Catarina pulls me away from Antonio and loops her arm with mine. She doesn’t say anything until we’re near the edge of the veranda overlooking the lake and far away from Simona. “God, that woman is beyond boring and wretched.”

“Thanks for the rescue.”

“We look out for each other. Even Stefano and Vi. Their relationship has always been tense.”

“Always?”

“Always.” She turns, looking over her shoulder toward the dining room where finds Vi, Stefano, and their mother.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about your English. The entire family speaks it so well. Where did you learn?”

“My parents thought it was important for each of us to learn English. They hired a private tutor to teach us. Every summer from the time we were little, we were only allowed to speak English in the house. When we were told you were coming, we were excited because many of us never get to use it unless we’re traveling.”

“Whoever taught you did a wonderful job. I wish I knew Italian.”

“Stick around this family long enough, and you’ll at least learn the bad words.”

“I hope this isn’t my last trip here. Your home is so lovely, and you’ve been very gracious to let us stay.”

A waiter walks by, and Catarina grabs two glasses of champagne off his tray, setting one down in front of me. I hadn’t even noticed that I had polished off my martini and I was carrying around an empty glass.

“Drink it. You’re going to need all the liquor you can to get through this evening.”

“Is it that bad?” I ask, lifting the champagne to my lips.

She touches my hand, tipping my glass. “Drink faster because my mother’s friends are a bunch of stuffy, pretentious women who haven’t had a stiff dick in years.”

I almost spit the champagne in her face when I start to laugh. Catarina’s just like her brother with her quick wit and mannerisms. She has his light blue eyes and the same shade of brown hair, but she is thinner and a good five inches shorter.

“You make them sound horrible.”

“My mother is the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet, but her friends are old, catty Italians who like to brag about their wealth while snubbing their noses at everyone else. I have the biggest house around the lake, yet they all treat me like I don’t belong.”

God, they do sound awful. I chug the glass of bubbly wine, polishing it off quickly based on her account.

“Why is your mother friends with these women?”

Catarina shrugs. “They belong to the same philanthropic organization.”

“Well, at least they do some good with their lives.”

Catarina cackles and holds her stomach. “It’s just another way for them to outdo each other. It has nothing to do with helping people except for my mother.” Her eyes widen as she looks over my shoulder at the guests piling onto the veranda in hordes. “Puttana.”

I’ve lived in Chicago long enough and eaten in enough restaurants in Little Italy to be able to translate that word without any help. My eyes follow hers, landing on a stunning blond woman in a red dress.

“Who’s that?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off her.

“That’s Camilla and it’s a long story, but isn’t mine to tell. I’m going to grab us another drink.”

“Okay,” I mutter.

Camilla, the puttana in the red dress, gives Antonio a sly smile as she stalks toward him. “Antonio,” she says, holding out her hand and continuing to speak in Italian.

Antonio glances down, but he doesn’t touch her even though she lets her hand linger in the air between them for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Even though I can’t understand what they’re saying to each other, I can read his body language perfectly. While she wants him—it’s clear by the way she keeps touching his arm—he has done nothing but constantly try to evade her forwardness.

“I’ll handle this,” Catarina says, handing me two glasses of champagne before striding toward Antonio. The girl has style, and I like her attitude. Catarina isn't afraid of anything or anyone, especially the puttana.

“Camilla, it’s so wonderful you could make it,” Catarina says as she kisses Camilla on the cheeks. “I didn’t think they’d give you a weekend pass for such a small event.”

Weekend pass?

Camilla’s face drains of color as she pulls away from Catarina. “Is your husband still out of the country on business, or is that what he tells you to get away from you?”

Camilla laughs, and so does Catarina. It’s so bizarre, but I can’t stop staring at the odd display of friendly hatred being spewed back and forth.

“Want to get out of here?” Antonio asks, and I jump. I had been so transfixed by his sister and Camilla, I hadn’t seen him walking toward me.

“Who is that?” I ask as he takes my arm and ushers me down the stairs toward the backyard.

“No one.”

I stop walking and give him an “I don’t believe you” look as I cross my arms in front of my chest.

He runs his fingers through his soft brown hair and glances down at the ground, kicking at the grass with his perfectly shined black shoes. “Camilla and I had a very brief and fiery past.”

He hasn’t said anything I didn’t already know. It was evident from their behavior that they knew each other intimately. I step away from him, wandering toward the bench that I sat on with his mother near the edge of the water.

“Lauren, wait.” He jogs after me, grabbing on to my arm before I reach the bench and stopping me. “I shouldn’t have been so vague about Camilla. We dated, but it was only a few times when we were in college.”

“We’ve all dated, Antonio. You seem to be leaving something out.”

The caginess in his response leaves me feeling uneasy.

“When I told her that I didn’t want to see her anymore, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“So she stalked you?”

“Not exactly.” He glances up toward the sky and sighs. “Camilla tried to commit suicide when I broke up with her. Unbeknownst to me, Stefano decided to pass himself off as me and visited her in the hospital. He led her on and used her. It was all sick and twisted, but that’s Stefano.”

“Wow. He’s a piece of work.”

“We were young and foolish, but I’ve never gotten over the shame of Camilla trying to take her own life after we broke up, and then what Stefano did. When she found out, she came unglued, and her family had her committed to a mental institution for a few years.”

I’m horrified and a little shocked by the admission. I don’t know who I feel worse for, Antonio or Camilla.

“After she tried to kill herself, I never allowed myself to get close to anyone. I never wanted to be put in that situation again.”

I reach out and touch his face, cradling his cheek in my palm. “What she did is not your fault and neither is Stefano’s behavior. Did you lead her on?”

“No.” He smiles somberly. “But I did nothing when I found out what Stefano had done. I should’ve stopped his games, but I didn’t want to get involved with her again. I let my mother handle it, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“We all make mistakes, Antonio. As long as you learned something from the experience.”

“I don’t know if I learned anything useful besides not trusting my brother. What makes it worse is that Camilla ended up pregnant with Stefano’s child.”

I cover my mouth with my hand and gasp. “What happened?”

“When she found out that it wasn’t me, she went into hysterics. She lost the baby and then ended up in the mental ward for longer than she probably should have.”

“Again, it wasn’t your fault. She knew about Stefano, didn’t she?” He nods, but I haven’t eased his pain. “I’ve only been around him for a short while, but I’d never confuse the two of you. Maybe she knew the entire time. Sometimes living with a replacement, especially one that’s a dead ringer like Stefano, is easier than being alone and missing the person we love. Maybe she didn’t allow herself to believe what she knew was true until the walls came crashing down.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “You’re wise beyond your years, Lauren.”

“It’s easy when I haven’t walked in your shoes. I don’t know what I would’ve done in the same circumstances, but it’s time to let the past go, along with the regrets that follow you around like a dark cloud.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please join us in the dining room,” a voice, which sounds like Stefano, says on the veranda above us.

I sigh and rest my head against his shoulder, wishing we could stay along the shore with the spring breeze of Lake Como licking across our skin.

“Let’s sing happy birthday and sneak away afterward. I want to show you something.” He grabs my hand, taking bigger strides than I can manage in my high heels on the grass. When I move too slowly, he lifts me into his arms and takes the stairs two at a time.

As soon as his feet touch the veranda, he lowers me down, but he presses my body against his until we’re face-to-face. “I want to show you something I’ve never shared with anyone, not even Stefano.”

Now the man’s piqued my curiosity. It’s my turn to grab his hand and pull him toward the dining room. I’ve had about as much party as I can take for one evening, and I’ll do anything and go anywhere to keep him away from Camilla.