Infuriating was an understatement when it came to describing how I felt about Angelo. Where I felt comfort and safety with Angelo, he also pushed buttons inside me that I didn’t know I had. His all-knowing attitude and the way he spoke in riddles ground my nerves, and my tongue always seemed to bite back.

And deep down I loved it.

I’d always been complacent, seeing it as my duty to follow my father’s dreams, instead of my own. Being taught that my family should always come first, dreams second, or possibly even never. My father treated me like a child, and I’d always backed down, never wanting to argue for fear of upsetting or disrespecting him or losing everything I held so dear—dance. But here was a man that I should fear, who should scare me more than any other, and I was just casually calling him a fucking asshole?

He brought out that side of me, the side that was strong and defiant. A part of me wanted to prove to him I wasn’t this little girl he treated me like, he made me want to be someone stronger. Maybe it was because I knew he would never settle for a doormat, he wasn’t that kind of man, I could see the need for a challenge in his chocolate eyes. When I was around him my body tingled, I wanted to touch him, I wanted him to grab me and make me feel the power he possessed. I didn’t want to be the girl with daddy issues, he made me want to be a strong woman who could stand on her own. Maybe even stand beside him.

Could I be that person now that I was so broken?

I really knew nothing about Angelo’s history, except for the fact that he wasn’t actually a DePalma. I wasn’t oblivious to how this whole Mafia thing worked, I knew it was dark, dangerous and illegal, and I also knew Angelo was not a man who many would stand up against and come out alive. But I was curious, how did he get to where he was?

What made Angelo tick?

What was it that created this powerful, collected, sexy man?

I licked my lips, hoping that I would soon be able to find out. Anthony had deemed that he would be my bodyguard and protector for the near future, and after a five-hour flight, we were on our way to his apartment where I would stay with him until the danger had passed.

Excitement swirled in my belly, momentarily overtaking the feelings of loss and loathing. He made me feel things I hadn’t before. Somehow, he took away the pain and lessened the ache in my chest and right now that was all I wanted, for the pain to go away.

Stepping inside his apartment, my eyes widened. We were on the top of The Carson Villas apartment complex in the middle of Brooklyn. I’d stayed in apartments owned by the Carson family before, and they exuded nothing but luxury.

Angelo’s apartment was no exception.

Usually, I wasn’t all that impressed with expensive and overpriced homes, given that I’d grown up in them and for the most part, it was like living in a museum. Everything was beautiful, but it was all untouchable. Sophie and I were never allowed to run through the house or play inside, and God help us if we accidentally knocked something over.

I hated it with a passion.

But Angelo’s apartment was different.

The length of two entire sides of the apartment was entirely made of glass panels with the occasional concrete beam in between. The kitchen, dining room, living room, foyer and the hall, to which I assumed led down to the bedrooms was all open and spacious. But not only that, it felt… homely and comfortable.

Everything was soft white and cream shades with a smattering of color in the sofa cushions, appliances, and art that was spread sporadically around the space.

“This is… unexpected,” I managed to say finally as I took a few more steps inside. The warmth of the sun that was shining outside filtered through the windows and made me feel like I wanted to curl up on the sofa and stare out at the blue sky that was scattered with fluffy white clouds.

It was warm and inviting.

Nothing like its owner.

Angelo snorted and lifted my suitcase onto his shoulder. “I dislike clutter.”

I followed behind him as he walked down the short hall and pushed opened a door. The room was large, more like a master than a guest room. It had vast windows that opened onto the other side of the building and looked out onto the street. I didn’t mind, it was still a beautiful view. The buildings old and historical, making it feel like I’d stepped back in time even if only for a moment.

I drew my hand along the intricately embroidered comforter before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Angelo watched me with almost a curiosity in his eyes. “This is nice,” I told him quietly. “Thank you.”

A chill caused my body to shudder at his words. Even the idea of having something happen, and to think that he wouldn’t be here, honestly scared the crap out of me.

“I’ll be back in a moment, I just need to check in now that we are back,” he said with a sharp nod as he disappeared like a ghost.

I guess even though I was against this whole scenario in the first place, a part of me knew that Angelo would keep me safe, and he had such a strong presence that people would just look at him and run the other way.

After Uncle Anthony let me know that Tobia was still out there and that he most definitely was not done trying to take out his revenge on our family, I’d reminded myself of just how badly I never wanted to go through that again. I was already scarred, he had already broken me, and for the most part of every day at this point, I was silently fighting back the tears. Losing someone was difficult. Even in the times when you had the chance to prepare yourself for the situation where they might be gone, it was hard when they died suddenly. You wished that you’d just had that one more chance to say goodbye, but you knew that they at least had peace.

Sophie was torn from this world in a whirlwind of violence, hatred, and pain.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t been the only one to be destroyed by it.

I’d tried speaking to Ava on more occasion than one, thinking that maybe the two of us could get through this together, fight the demons away. She was one of my best friends, the last thing I wanted was for her to be in pain for what I realized now was my fault—or at least my family’s fault.

She should have never had to experience such a thing.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through my contacts for her name and hit call. I waiting for the ring, but instead, all I got was a tone and then a mechanical voice.

“This number has been disconnected.”

My heart sank. I’d been trying to call her for the past few days, but it had always gone to an answering machine. I’d left message after message, praying that she was doing okay, begging her to let me visit so I could hug her. Now that I knew the truth about who Tobia was, guilt swirled around me like an impending storm.

I needed to tell her, to beg for forgiveness before the press took the story and turned it into something crazier than it was.

Then again, how could it really get any crazier?

I quickly flipped through my phone again, this time finding Ava’s parents phone number and hitting dial. My knees bounced nervously and my mouth went dry as it started to ring.

“Hello?” Ava’s mom Bonnie answered in a sweet tone.

I licked my lips. “Hi Bonnie, it’s Emerson.” The words left me, I didn’t know what to say. Sorry I hurt your child? Sorry my family drama has caused you all so much pain?

There was silence for a second, followed by a soft sigh. “Emerson, how are you holding up?” Her tone was motherly and nonjudgemental, and that alone brought tears to my eyes.

“I’m trying,” I whispered, my throat clogged with emotion. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of Ava,” I paused. “I really need to know how she is.”

Bonnie cleared her throat, as if she was feeling the same way I was. I didn’t blame her. Her baby girl had been through something horrific, something I couldn’t imagine any parent would want their child to go through. “She really just wants time alone,” Bonnie answered sadly. “As much as I think you and Leah could help her through this, it’s brought back memories that…” there was a drawn out silence while I waited for her to continue, “… that have haunted her for a long time.”

Tears dripped down onto my cheeks and I sniffled. “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Emerson, I know this wasn’t your fault. Ava is just in a bad place right now. And when she gets like this… you can’t force yourself back in. You have to let her come to you,” Bonnie told me softly. “Give her time. She isn’t in a good headspace right now, so it’s best to just let it be for a while.”

I wanted to argue and tell her that I couldn’t do that. I loved Ava. How was I meant to sit back and let her suffer alone?

“I need to go, I’m sorry Emerson. I’ll have her call you when she’s feeling better,” Bonnie offered in a hurry before she said a quick goodbye and hung up.

My chest ached.

I hated this.

I’d lost a sister.

My best friend was alone and falling to pieces, and she didn’t want anything to do with me. I felt like I was sinking. Guilt, anger, devastation all piling on top of me, one after the other. I didn’t want to prove Tobia right and let this eat me up from the inside, I really wanted to fight it, but I knew he was winning.

“Stop it,” Angelo growled, and my head snapped to where he was once again standing by the door, watching me, his eyes narrowed. “You’re letting him get inside your head, I can see it.”

“And how am I meant to stop? I can’t just forget what’s happened,” I protested, my fingers gripping the blanket beneath me.

“Do you know the best part about being broken, Emerson?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest and propping his shoulder against the doorframe. His suit was ruffled from our long flight, and I had no doubt that I looked like I’d been on a three-day bender with no sleep, and only surviving on the fumes of the alcohol on my breath.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, I shook my head.

“You get to put yourself back together in any way that you like. You can find the pieces, create something new, something beautiful, something you never imagined possible before.” The silky tone of his voice empowered me.

“You seem to know what you’re talking about,” I murmured, turning my body to face him, hoping to catch some kind of emotion, some kind of story or hint about who this man was. “How are you so sure?”

“Because you aren’t the only one who’s been broken,” he answered softly, his features softening in a way I’d never seen before. My eyes widened as I watched a look of empathy come across his face, as though he really felt my pain, that he knew what I was going through and that he’d do whatever humanly possible in order to pull me through it.

Within a flash though, it was gone. The deep, prominent scowl was back, but a part of me had already warmed. I’d seen the mask fall.

“Would it kill you to actually smile occasionally?” I asked without really considering the question first.

There was a twitch in his cheek, but that was the only answer I got before he turned and walked straight out the door. I scrubbed at my face, looking over and spotting a rather inviting ensuite bathroom. As much as the idea of chasing after Angelo and bugging the hell out of him seemed appealing, a hot scolding shower to wash off the filth of the past few days was so much more enticing.

Angelo could wait.

I had some scum to scrub away, and a puzzle to begin piecing back together.

One piece at a time.