Page 11 of Bound By A Promise
“What if I chose to not live in either world?”
She pressed her lips together. “After last night, I’m happy that you get to live.”
Mama was right. I survived what I might not have survived. Leaning my head back against the soft leather seat, I made myself a promise. Whether it was a higher being, Miguel, my brother, others in the cartel, or all the above, I was alive. I wasn’t going to waste my life living the way of my mother or sister. The last thing I wanted to do was live in a world without choices. I’d been given a second chance, and I would take it.
By the time we landed, we’d changed time zones, arriving in Kansas City midmorning.
A man named Giovanni waited with a car on the tarmac, ready to drive the four of us to Catalina’s home. He greeted Dante as Miguel saw to our luggage.
Once again, Dante took the front passenger seat. This time, I sat between Miguel and Mama in the back seat. Staring at the back of Dante’s head, I thought about seeing him for the first time at Cat’s wedding. Of course, I noticed him. I was paired with him—best man and maid of honor. If I were honest, during her wedding I was intimidated by both of the Lucianomen—make that all of the Luciano Mafia men. They were tall, muscular, and undeniably handsome.
It wasn’t until I visited Cat last summer that I was able to talk to Dario and Dante and get to know them in a less formal setting. I had no doubt that Cat and Dario would make their marriage work. The telltale signs were everywhere. During that visit, it was Dante who surprised me. By association, I knew he was a dangerous man; however, in reality, he was fun and talkative in a way that was the polar opposite of his older brother.
Before Aléjandro and Mia’s wedding, I’d almost talked myself into asking Dante to dance. And then I saw him at the wedding. He was even more handsome than I’d remembered. Yet the fun man I’d met in Kansas City was gone. Dante’s expression was dangerously beautiful and cold in a way that reminded me of his brother. While I watched him, I didn’t think he noticed I was present. I could say the same about now.
He saw me as a child—a little girl. The way I felt around him wasn’t love or even lust. It was probably the reemergence of the earlier intimidation. Surely, if I told my sister about my almost-crush on her brother-in-law, she’d probably tell me he was too old for me or worse, laugh.
My thoughts centered back to my sister as Giovanni pulled the car into an underground parking garage that I remembered from my last visit. I reached for my mother’s hand. “We’re almost there.”
With the five of us and our luggage aboard the private elevator, we soared up to the top of the building, the penthouse. Dante, Giovanni, and Miguel took up more than their share of space as we stood facing the doors. As soon as they opened, I saw my sister.
“You’re here,” she said, practically bouncing as she opened her arms wide.
Chapter
Four
Dante
One deep breath was all it would take to bring my body in contact with Camila. My new favorite scent, that of cinnamon, was already invading my senses. While I’d done my best to keep my distance on the plane, now she was close enough that I could inhale her scent, sweet and cinnamon with the tempting aroma of innocence. Dario would say my thoughts were inappropriate. They were, and if I lingered in this position much longer, they would become even more inappropriate. The issue was that ever since I first heard of the invasion, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Camila was my first thought. Her safety. Her youth. Her beauty. Her standing within the cartel. I’d seen too many injustices in all my years on earth to not understand the horrible fate that could have awaited her.
My thoughts went back to hours earlier.
Throwing on a pair of blue jeans and t-shirt, I hurried to my rental car and sped through the dark San Diego streets until I reached the Ruizes’ home. By the time I arrived, the groundswere swarming with cartel soldiers. It took a call from Andrés to convince the men at the gate to allow me entry. I gritted my teeth at the sight of the spilled blood on the pool deck and within their home.
The same fucking home where less than forty-eight hours ago, there had been a festive wedding. The Ruiz house staff was busy bleaching and cleaning away the evidence as I was taken upstairs to Andrés’s home office.
When the door opened, I was met with a multitude of dark stares. After raising my hands, I pulled the revolver from my holster and made a show of laying it on Andrés’s desk. The one rule my brother made clear when he called was not to do anything to upset the alliance.
By the palpable friction in the room, I wasn’t feeling welcomed.
“I’m here to help.”
Andrés appeared older than he had at Mia’s wedding as he stood and offered me his hand. “Gracias.”
“Tell me what the famiglia can do to help you.”
The elevator doors opened to my sister-in-law. Valentina and Camila rushed forward. I didn’t say a word, nodding to Catalina as I made my way toward Dario’s office, the capo dei capi—boss of bosses—of the Kansas City Mafia.
Dario had that title for almost a year. Upon our father’s death, he’d taken the position he’d been born to hold.
Change wasn’t easy under any circumstances; however, our father’s indecisiveness preceding his death didn’t facilitate an easy transfer of power. Father had said he would step down as capo as soon as Dario wed. He didn’t.
A bullet from Alesia Moretti, father’s mistress, accelerated Dario’s rise to power. Our father was no longer our concern. Currently and permanently, Vincent Luciano would preside overthe devil’s angels, quite possibly vying for the top job against Satan himself.
As with such a transition, there were members of the outfit who weren’t pleased that Dario assumed the role he’d been promised. At the time of our father’s demise, my brother was only thirty-six years old. Many with more wrinkles and gray hair thought the position should have gone to one of our father’s brothers.
Dario and I worked tirelessly to create a cohesive outfit. Tolerance for disloyalty was nonexistent. The former soldiers, capos, and associates would work with Dario Luciano, or their terms of service would be permanently severed.