“JOHNATHAN.”
Siena didn’t miss how John subtly winced when she used his full name with a tone as sharp as glass.
Good.
He’d slept with her, and then fucked off like a coward before she could even wake up the next morning. All she got after that from him was nothing but radio silence. For three whole months. Who did that kind of thing to people?
This man, apparently.
She had done well trying to let go of that anger and hurt over the last while, but fuck him because now it was bubbling up all over again. At just the sight of him, looking so damn good in a fitted suit and a half grin, she was pissed. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. All tall, dark, and handsome without even trying.
He probably didn’t even know what he had done to her, and how much it stung. Maybe she was just one of many.
Siena resolved herself never to let it happen again. She attempted to move past Johnathan, but he stood too close to a table on one side, and people were eating at another table on his right. She had to slide in beside him, which only made her rub against him. His familiar spicy scent—like sex, man, and deliciousness—filled her lungs with one breath.
Fuck.
“Siena, wait,” Johnathan said.
His hand came up to touch her shoulder. She stiffened; instantly frozen in place like a statue by his gentle fingertips sliding along the line of her shoulder. His touch grazed the exposed patch of skin where the neckline of her dress was open, and a shiver raced over her flesh.
Fuck.
Again.
Siena looked up at him, and all she saw was dark hazel staring back. “What?”
Her one word came out a hell of a lot quieter than she intended it to. She wished it had been that same sharp tone she first greeted him with.
No, instead he got her breathy and confused question.
Jesus Christ.
“Do you have a minute?” Johnathan asked.
Siena hardened her jaw, and schooled her features. “Not particularly.”
And not for you.
“After work, then? I assume that’s what you’re doing.”
He assumed right, but that didn’t mean she was giving in. Or that she was going to make time for him.
“I’m kind of busy,” she told him.
Johnathan nodded once. “Yeah, me, too.”
“I bet.”
He winced again.
Her sharp tone had found itself again.
Siena could see her father sitting at the bar with her brother. She was stuck between wondering why her father was even at the restaurant—he rarely showed up when she worked at one of her brother’s places—and the fact that both men were very obviously staring. They made no effort to hide it.
Matteo and Darren had their gazes glued on Siena and Johnathan like they had found the most interesting show, and couldn’t tear their eyes away.
It was unsettling.
She went back to Johnathan.
“Listen, Johnathan,” she said, falling back to his full name, “I really am busy, and I have to get to work if I plan on getting out of here before dark.”
Johnathan didn’t look like he wanted to move at all. In fact, the two of them stayed locked in a staring contest, and his fingertips grazed her throat momentarily before he dropped his hand altogether. She thought there was something new to be seen in his eyes—usually she found a lost, wild glint there. Now, she saw something else.
A silent request, maybe.
A demand, possibly.
Siena didn’t know.
She had learned through three months of silence that she really couldn’t afford to find out much about Johnathan at all. Not when things like her feelings were in play, and he didn’t seem to mind hurting them.
A weak woman she was not.
He would not make her one.
Still, Johnathan didn’t move. He didn’t say anything, either, but she could see he wanted to. He was holding back—maybe for himself, or for her. She didn’t know, and she didn’t really care, either.
“Excuse me,” she said.
It came out like a whisper this time.
Soft, unsure, and barely there at all.
Johnathan still heard it because he finally stepped aside a little more to let her pass. Behind her, she heard him say, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Siena.”
Doubtful.
She didn’t answer him back, though.
She didn’t even look over her shoulder.
Siena made a left before the bar to head for the back offices. Books to scrub and cook, after all. Her work never ended, and her life only seemed to revolve around what business her father or brothers needed her to do next.
Matteo calling her name stopped her. “Come sit with me, Siena.”
She glanced at her father, and then at Darren who pushed off the stool behind him. The two men shared a quiet word as she made her way over. Darren left their father’s side just as Siena came to stand beside Matteo.
“Pinot Noir—the dark red,” Matteo told the man behind the bar. He looked to her. “That’s the one you like, isn’t it?”
“Usually,” Siena said. “Not when I’m working, though.”
It was not good to mix alcohol and numbers. Especially not when those numbers were fraudulent, but had to look better than real when the IRS looked at them.
Matteo laughed. “Oh, take a break once in a while, Siena. It’s good for the soul. You can’t work all the time.”
What?
She only worked as much as she did because that’s all they wanted her to do. They didn’t give her any choice.
Siena said none of that, and instead, took the glass of red wine when the bartender offered it. She took one small sip, but kept her nose down in the glass as she swallowed. It gave her the chance to smell the wine, and ignore her father at the same time.
Heady fruits and the sting of alcohol filled her lungs, and coated her tongue. She wasn’t a big drinker to begin with, but wine was the only thing she could stand to imbibe when she had to.
Red wine, specifically.
“Siena,” Matteo murmured.
Damn.
“Yeah, Dad?”
She looked at him, but he was staring back across the restaurant. At the same exact spot where she had been standing with Johnathan only moments before. He was no longer there, or inside the restaurant at all, it seemed.
Thank God for small miracles.
Her heart was already a mess.
“Do you care to tell me what that was about between you and Johnathan Marcello?” Matteo asked.
“Not particularly.”
“I’m sorry.” Matteo chuckled. “I posed that question like you had a choice—you don’t, Siena. Start talking.”
“It’s nothing, Dad.”
“Is, or was nothing?”
“Both,” she returned, and then took a much larger drink of wine. “There’s nothing to tell. We met up a couple of times randomly on the street around where I get my books, and once on the city bus.”
“And that’s all?” Matteo pressed.
No.
She was not about to tell him that she slept with Johnathan. He was her father, not a fucking friend. The only reason she got away with occasionally having a boyfriend was because Matteo needed to keep Siena happy to a certain extent.
He needed her work with numbers. He needed her bookkeeping skills, and her understanding of how to cook his fucking books. A little bit of freedom in this life could go a long damn way.
Or so she had learned …
“Yeah, that’s all,” she said, shrugging.
“He looked very uncomfortable when you wouldn’t indulge his conversation,” her father added after a moment.
“Perhaps that was because I didn’t want to talk to him, Dad.”
Siena knew that wasn’t the right thing to say, but she hadn’t been able to hold it back. Maybe if she got that out of the way, her father would back down on whatever he was trying to get at.
Unlikely.
“You know how I expect you to act around other men in this life, Siena. You’re to treat them with the respect you give me, or your brothers. Should you run in to Johnathan again, I expect you to be your pleasant, sweet self. The good girl I know you can be, huh?”
Her father cupped her cheek, and patted it gently. A wave of bitter irritation swelled at the action.
She shoved it deep down.
What else could she do?
“I’ll try, Dad,” she said, offering nothing else.
Matteo smiled. “There is no trying. Not in this circumstance.”
“All right.”
The words felt like glass in her mouth.
Matteo chuckled deeply. “Oh, and we’re having a dinner next week. I expect you to be there.”
Even better …
• • •
“Dad made this seem like it was supposed to be a big dinner,” Siena said as she eyed the placements on the table. There were only six. Just enough for her parents, brothers, her, and one other person. “This isn’t a big dinner at all, Ma.”
Coraline rolled her eyes. “I think he means it’s supposed to be an important dinner—a big deal, if you will.”
“Why?”
Her mother didn’t answer, but Siena’s attention was distracted by her father and brothers roaring through the dining room. Their laughter carried through the space, and then followed them into the hall. The laughter echoed back, and muffled as the men headed into another room.
Siena turned back to her mother. “Again, why is this a big deal?”
And why the hell did she have to be there for it?
Coraline finished placing the cloth napkins on top of the plates, and gave Siena a look that scolded her. The kind of look she used to give her as a child when Siena was being too loud or whatever else.
“You know how this works—you’re not new to this life, Siena,” her mother said. “You don’t get to ask questions. You follow the rules, and nothing else. Now, go find something to do, and get out of my hair.”
Yep.
Just like a child.
Frankly, Siena didn’t mind this time. It gave her the chance to get away from her mother who just kept redoing every little thing that Siena set out on the table, anyway.
She headed for the back of the house, and slipped in the sunroom. The space was fully enclosed, but had large windows that overlooked the backyard, and a door to exit out of should someone want to go outside. It was heated in the winter, and the potted plants in all the corners and on shelves gave the space an earthy smell.
Next to her old bedroom, this had been her most favorite space in the Calabrese family home. Barely anyone used the sunroom, except her mother to water the plants twice a week. Siena was almost always guaranteed some form of privacy here.
She sunk in one of the wicker chairs, and overlooked the brownstone’s small, fenced in backyard. A recent storm had dropped a good half of a foot of snow on top of what little bit they already had. Now, covered in a heavy fresh sheet of pristine, sparkling white snow, it looked peaceful.
And cold.
Christmas was over now that it was a week into January, and all the decorations that usually warmed the place had long been taken down. The tree was gone, like everything else. Her mother had never liked to leave anything up for longer than she had to when it came to the holidays.
It was a good thing her mother hadn’t been to her apartment in well over a month. Siena still hadn’t taken her Christmas decorations down—what little bit she put out. Even the small five-foot-high fake tree was still lit up with the gold star twinkling on top in her living room.
Coraline would be aghast.
Maybe that’s why Siena kept it up.
Who knew?
Siena wasn’t sure how long she stayed hidden in the sunroom. Long enough that she wondered if maybe she had missed the dinner altogether, and someone forgot she was even there. It was unlikely, but she could still hope.
Her hope was for nothing.
“There you are,” came a voice from the doorway.
Siena found her oldest brother standing there. Kev looked her over, and then peered around the room.
“You weren’t playing with the plants or something, right?” he asked. “Dad won’t be happy if you mess your dress, or whatever.”
Siena scowled. “First, I’m twenty-five, not a toddler. Try to speak to me like an adult, and I’ll remember not to use big words for you when I respond. Second, what do you want?”
“Time for dinner.”
She waved a hand. “Yeah, I’ll be right behind you.”
“Siena, you could try to be pleasant tonight.”
“No, what I could have done tonight, Kev, was stay at home on my couch under a blanket and watched the newest episode of my favorite show. Instead, I am here. Dressed and prettied up to show off Dad’s beautiful family for whoever he’s putting this show on for.”
“And we’re so awful, right?”
He flashed her a grin.
She smiled right back.
“Something like that,” Siena said.
Kev sobered momentarily. “Seriously, what’s up with you?”
“I don’t know. Nothing in particular at the moment.”
“But still something. I know how women work. You all say nothing is wrong, but in reality, you’re stewing in some kind of shit inside your crazy heads.”
And that, everybody, is one of many reasons why Kev can’t keep a woman.
Siena didn’t say that out loud.
But it didn’t make it any less true.
“You going to tell me what’s wrong, or what?” he asked. “Because I don’t have all day, and they’re waiting for us at the table.”
She shrugged. “Don’t you ever get tired of putting on airs for Dad and his people?”
Kev cocked a brow. “Siena, I am one of his people.”
Yeah, shit.
She hadn’t thought of that, but she should have. Her brothers never understood why she didn’t enjoy being the child of a mafia boss the same way they did. Kev and Darren were revered as sons and made men, while she was the toss-away girl.
This conversation was going nowhere.
And fast.
Standing from the chair, Siena brushed down her skirt. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
“Smile,” Kev said as she left the sunroom.
Siena flipped her brother off over her shoulder instead. How’s that for a smile?
It only took a minute or two for them to get back to the dining room. Siena heard his voice echoing out from the space before she even stood in the entryway.
“Whiskey is fine,” he said.
His voice came out dark and rich.
Like honey.
Fuck.
Siena’s gaze drifted to where Johnathan Marcello stood beside her father and Darren at the small wet bar against the far wall. His stare found hers as Matteo passed him a three-fingered glass of whiskey.
He doesn’t even drink.
Or, that’s what he told her.
Siena was stuck between staring at Johnathan in his black on black suit, and wondering why in the hell nobody had thought to tell her he was the guest tonight. She felt tricked somehow, but she didn’t know why.
After all, her father and brothers didn’t actually know she had history with Johnathan. Or … what one might consider to be a history.
Nonetheless, it was sure to be an awkward fucking dinner.
Johnathan still hadn’t taken his gaze off Siena. Kev passed her in the doorway, however, and that allowed her to break the staring contest for a moment.
She took the chance to grab her chair at the table, and sit down. Fixing the napkin over her lap, she ignored the conversation happening between the men of her family and Johnathan. Soon, her mother was coming out of the kitchen with dishes in hand. She thought to help her mom, but Coraline was quick to tell her to stay put.
It was only once the table was full and wine had been poured that the men finally joined Siena and her mother at the table. Like always, Matteo sat at the head of the table, while her mother sat on the end. Darren sat beside Siena, while Johnathan sat directly across from her, and Kev sat at his left.
Every single time she looked up after grace had been said, he was right there. Looking at her. Talking to someone else, but passing her glances. Never calling her out directly for conversation, but still managing to get someone else to pull her in to it every once in a while.
Before Siena knew it, half of her plate was gone, and she had downed three glasses of a white wine that tasted like rotten grapes and old vodka.
The buzz was just enough to keep her from letting the growing butterflies in her stomach take over completely. Barely …
“Siena,” her father said, “have we ever told you that Johnathan is connected to our family’s history?”
She peeked up from her plate, and her gaze darted between a suddenly frozen Johnathan, and her grinning father.
Something in Johnathan’s stiff as hell posture told her he was very uncomfortable. He picked up that whiskey glass he had barely touched, and tipped it up to his lips. Still, when he sat the glass back down to the table, the liquid level was still at the same spot.
He hadn’t sipped on even a drop.
“No,” she finally said quietly.
Matteo’s grin grew wider. “His great-grandfather was once the boss of the Calabrese—”
“Grovatti,” Johnathan interjected with a dull tone. “Then, it was called the Grovatti family.”
“My mistake, John. You’re right, but it’s been our family for so long now that it’s easy to forget.”
Johnathan’s grip on the steak knife in his hand tightened until his knuckles whitened. Siena again glanced between her seemingly oblivious father, and a very irritated Johnathan.
What was happening?
“Nonetheless,” Matteo said, “Siena, your grandfather Carl took over after Johnathan’s great-grandfather passed on. And that is how this organization came to be.”
The silence that passed over the table felt thick with something Siena didn’t really understand. Haughtiness from one side, she thought, and pain from the man across from her.
Johnathan hid it well, but for some reason, she could see it.
In his eyes.
There, he was hurting.
Siena downed what was left of her fourth glass of wine because she didn’t know what the hell else to do. The bitter, sour flavor stuck to her teeth and tongue, but it was better than talking.
Awkward was not a good enough word for this dinner.
“I never did understand why Johnathan Grovatti’s bastard son changed names after his father was killed,” Darren said from beside her. “Lucian, I mean.”
Johnathan’s gaze darkened with a barely hidden hate as he looked at Darren. “My father was adopted by Antony and Cecelia Marcello. That’s why he took their surname.”
“Even if he was birthed by a goomah, he was still a Grovatti.”
Johnathan flashed a smile—cold and sharp in a blink. “We certainly are, and don’t you forget it, either.”
• • •
Siena hid in the sunroom the very second she was able to get away from the dinner table without earning herself a glare from her father. No one seemed to notice when she left, thankfully.
She toyed with the velvety leaves on one of the corner plants as she ran over the things that had been said at the dinner.
It still felt like a set up.
She still couldn’t prove that it was.
“The information that your father neglected to mention was that your grandfather killed my great-grandfather.”
Siena stiffened at Johnathan’s voice, and then stood straight up. She spun on her heels, and found him leaning in the doorway of the sunroom.
“How did you know I was back here?” she asked.
He shrugged, and swirled the still-full glass of whiskey in his hand. “I skipped out on them by saying I had to use the bathroom. Apparently there’s none on the bottom floor of this brownstone, so I’m going to pretend like I got lost.”
Siena swallowed hard. “But you came looking for me.”
Johnathan flashed a warm smile, and his hazel eyes drifted over her, unashamed. “Yep.”
She refused to let this man in again. She would not let her walls down for him after the stunt he pulled on her.
Siena brought her cold demeanor out to play again. “Did I not make myself clear at the restaurant, or what?”
Johnathan looked down at the glass of whiskey, and then stretched his arm out to dump the contents in a potted plant on a shelf. “Shame to waste liquor and all, but I don’t drink even for a boss.”
“You could have refused.”
His gaze cut back to her. “Made men cannot refuse any boss. I would not be here tonight, if I could.”
Oh.
She heard what he didn’t say.
“Was that the truth?” she dared to ask. “About my grandfather and your great-grandfather?”
Johnathan’s lips curled at the edge—a sneer that roughened his handsome face, and gave her the answer before he even spoke it out loud. “Every bit of it, yeah.”
“Huh.”
“That’s what you have to say?”
“What would you want me to say?” she countered.
Johnathan tipped his head back, and that intense gaze of his stabbed in to her with reckless intent. Like he had caught something he really liked in his sights, and he was ready to snatch it up.
It just happened to be her in his line of vision.
Fuck.
“I don’t expect anything from you, Siena Calabrese,” Johnathan said. “But I hoped you might let me say a few things.”
“Like what?”
She knew better than to ask.
She wished she could take it back instantly.
The words were still out there.
Johnathan’s throat bobbed as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips. “What happened a few months ago, for starters.”
“Nope,” she said.
Just like that, she was done.
Siena moved to push past him in the doorway and head back to where her family was, but Johnathan grabbed her wrist, and yanked her back. “Wait a damn minute, donna.”
In a blink, she was spun around and facing him. Dark hazel, and sharp lines clouded her vision. The hardness of his body fit perfectly against the softness of hers.
All she could see was him.
All she could smell was him.
It was bad, intoxicating, and addicting all at the same time.
“Just … wait a minute,” he murmured softer.
“You don’t deserve even a second,” she replied, trying to level her tone.
“Maybe not, but will you give me one?”
“Why, so we can fuck again, and you can run off one more time? You didn’t even leave me a note, or your number. I don’t know if you expected me to chase you like this was some kind of game, John, but I don’t run after any man. Ever.”
He didn’t even blink.
He barely moved.
She yanked her wrist out of his grasp, and took a step back. “So, no, I don’t really want to hear anything you have to say.”
Siena turned her back to Johnathan, and then quickly disappeared down the hallway. She grabbed her coat and bag from the hallway closet, and then headed for the dining room. Only one of her brothers was still there, and he was pouring yet another drink, it seemed.
Darren, that was.
“Let Dad know I’m leaving,” Siena said as she dug through the bag for her keys. “I have work to do early tomorrow.”
Darren snatched the keys out of her hands the second she pulled them from the purse. “Hell no. You’ve been drinking. You can’t drive.”
Siena glared at her brother, but didn’t try to get the keys back. He towered over her, and she wasn’t going to jump for the fucking things like a child. “Then call me a cab, or get Kev to drive me home. He barely drank anything at all.”
“We’re not your fucking chauffeurs, Siena.”
Ouch.
Because she remembered more than one occasion when she had taken them home after dinners due to drinking.
The bastards.
“Listen, Dad mentioned you should probably stay the night anyway since you’re supposed to be working with him tomorrow at the new dealership or something. You can just follow him in the morning since you don’t know where it is.”
Siena’s irritation grew tendrils inside her heart and squeezed tight enough to kill her. “I want to go home.”
Darren shrugged. “Too bad, I guess you’re staying.”