Chapter Eleven

Celia

I’m warned when the nurse comes to get my order for dinner Milos won’t be home, but that didn’t mean I could go without vegetables tonight. I couldn’t help smiling at the order.

I can’t stop thinking of what happened after the spanking, the things he said. What did it mean? Did he want me? What could that even look like with me two hours away from him? If Carlo found out there would be a marriage, and if there was a marriage Milos would make me come back to Chicago.

All at once I want it—him—so badly. Except it’s impossible. There is no veterinarian program within the city limits as good as what is in UIUC. Hell, the mafia wives allowed to get a degree were so few I could count them on one hand. And they only did it in the last decade. Some were allowed to take occasional classes, but usually they ended up pregnant before they were able to graduate. Once they were pregnant they were home locked behind the gates.

Getting involved with Milos would mean waving goodbye to my dream of becoming a vet. I close my eyes. I’m not ready for that. I want Milos fiercely, with a desperation I’ve never known before, but I’m not ready yet to let go of one dream for another. And I would have to be.

I guess I’m not as healed as I thought I was, because less than a half hour after I finish dinner, I slip into a restless sleep before it’s even nine o’clock.

The next morning I’m up early at eight in the morning. Need to see Milos again drives me out of my room. I make it out of my room and past Koshka’s. I realize quickly this is a wing of the house as I pass a door open to a home gym. The next door is open to what appears to be an office.

Milos’s brother Aleksander is splayed out in front of his desk on his cell phone; it sounds like he’s playing some kind of game. All that research on the Bratva included a bunch of research on Milos and his family. The moment my eyes are on him, he’s turning to find me.

“Privet, malyshka, such a pretty little thing you are.” He grins wickedly.

I can’t help it, I laugh. “You said the exact same thing the first time I met you more than a year ago. Do you not have another line?”

He might look like a younger Milos; however, he is so very different in a way I cannot even really pinpoint. His eyes are a pretty amber that I’m guessing might go gold, then again they might darken. “I do not usually need more.” He shrugs. “It is also true. You are even prettier than that day. There is something different about you.”

I shrug. “I’m not as fat. I lost almost twenty pounds.”

“Hmm, no, it is not that. You were an appealing chit even then. You are more confident, not as angry as before. These things come with time. Confidence is far more appealing than a loss of a few pounds. I see why Milos has been neglecting work and sleep for you. If I had known you were here in the house, I might have slept here too.” His dark, thick eyebrows wiggle at me.

This time the laughter won’t come. “I’m keeping Milos from work? I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“No apology needed, malyshka, it is mainly his sleep that is suffering. I would not be his second if I could not handle business in his stead.” He stands then he’s leaning against Milos’s desk. A soft thump tells me something dropped against wood. “Would you like me to wake my dear brother?”

I’m shaking my head, backing away. “No, I’ll—”

“Kotyonok, are you all right?” Milos is behind me.

His hair is wet as if he has come from a shower. I see it now, bruises are beneath his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping. I shouldn’t be here. Yesterday was a mistake, nothing could happen. It’s time to end this.

“I want to go home.” The words fly out of my mouth.

His frown is thunderous. “What?” He spots his brother. A flood of Russian comes out of him, too fast for my two semesters of Russian to understand.

Aleksander responds in a flood of Russian just as strongly.

“Stop, please stop arguing. I want to go home. I’m better. It’s time. If you don’t take me home, I’ll figure out a way to go myself. Even if that includes calling Tony Sabatini to come get me.” I turn and walk back to my room.

God, it’s not my room. I have to stop thinking like this. Stop it. I blink back the stupid tears, refusing to let them out. If Milos sees them he’ll exploit them without hesitation. I go into the closet and start packing the clothes into the luggage that appeared yesterday. It’s time.

Milos is silent, I feel his eyes on me hot and angry. “Do you have my bag? It had my computer and books?”

“I have it.” The words are tight.

“Are you going to take me home or do I have to call Tony?” I don’t look up.

“I’ll take you home.”

Milos doesn’t say another word to me. In less than twenty minutes we’re in a helicopter. I hate it. I was hoping he would drive me back, giving us more than two hours and the freedom to talk to each other.

But Milos isn’t even looking at me, let alone talking to me. I’m a bad girl being punished. It doesn’t matter, I can’t be a good girl for him because what I want is Milos and to get my veterinarian degree, and no matter what he said I can’t have both. There is no way to get everything I want.

Sergei is waiting at the tiny airport we land at. He grabs my bags that Peter hands him.

“Celia.” Milos opens the car door for me, but suddenly he’s in front of it. A hand is at my chin, drawing my eyes up to him. I hate the way I can’t fight the shiver running through me at his touch, at the heat of his hard body pressed against me. His thumb runs over my lips—they open instantly for him. “Take care of yourself, kotyonok. Your promise still holds. If you need anything you do not hesitate to call me.” Then he’s gone.

I don’t dare let myself look back as I get into Sergei’s car.

“How are you really, malyshka?” Sergei asks gently.

I’m not proud of the way I burst into tears.

***

Present Day

“Holy fucking shit,” Carina exclaims as she paces the room. She’s been doing it since I told her about the spanking. “I mean holy fucking shit, Celia. That is the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. And that’s compared to some of my manga, well not—you know what? Doesn’t matter because that was insane. I mean it’s like you two are destined to be together. He wants you! Like really wants you.”

I shake my head. “He then went more than two years without contacting me, no texts, no phone calls, not a single fucking peep from him. That isn’t a man who wants me. Once again it was me who called him. Me who called him crying about Mommy’s cancer.”

Her forehead scrunches up. “But he did come for you to help with Mommy’s cancer.”

Ashamed, I tell her what happened at his condo, unable to ever forget him telling me to leave and never come back.

She sags onto the couch. “Oh no.”

Nodding, I sigh. “Exactly, he then went on to spend the next five months with Anna Kovalenko. The guy who doesn’t do repeats and didn’t kiss was kissing her. I mean it was a closed-mouth kiss on her cheek, but still.”

A hand goes through her hair. “Maybe he like…shit. I don’t know. I’m confused.”

“It’s fine. This is a mafia marriage like I always knew I would end up in. I never told you that the reason I stopped reading the smutty manga you tried to get me to read wasn’t because of the smut. It’s because I was sure I would never get this—a marriage where I would want my husband and most importantly where he really wanted me. For years, I never allowed myself to become wishful or long for what I couldn’t have. I’m lucky that I do want Milos, it makes things easier. I think we could have a good marriage. He promised he wouldn’t cheat if…” I blush. “He promised. I’ll try, I think what’s important is he will too.”

“I guess that’s better than most of the marriages in the mafia. I’m sorry. I know you want him to love you. Maybe some day that will come. Tony Sabatini once said, love doesn’t just happen. It grows in a marriage based on trust and trying. Even with love there is work to be done.” She cups her chin in her hand.

Tony Sabatini… “Hey, do you want to go to Gillam’s for book buying and an early, or even better a later dinner?”

Gillam’s is a shopping plaza in an old-school tiny strip mall of four businesses. There’s a store that had joined two of the stores into one for anime lovers to get manga new and old, as well as a huge selection of gear. There’s a coffee shop on one side of it and a sushi place on the other. It was a place we went often. Although we never told our mom as it’s in the Rogers Park area, south of Evanston. The last neighborhood for Chicago proper on the east side, right up against Lake Michigan. And the last neighborhood to be rehabbed. We never went after dark because the one time we did we were robbed on our way back to the El.

Shrugging, she nods. “Sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re walking out to find Peter alert outside of the SUV.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“You’re taking us to Gillam’s.” I give him the address and get into the back of the SUV.

He seems to relax when I get into the SUV without arguing with him. Good.

When I direct him to park in front of the anime place, I warn him we’ll be here for at least an hour, then we’re going to go next door to the sushi place for dinner. So we’d be here for several hours.

Frowning, Peter scans the place and nods. “Okay, you have your phone?”

I hold it up. “Yep. See you in a bit.”

The minute we’re inside, Carina draws me into the store where we can’t be seen. “What’s up?”

“I need to go talk to Tony Sabatini. He knows Milos, like really knows him.”

She nods, checking her watch. “You going to his bookstore?”

Shrugging, “Yeah, I don’t know where he lives. But I know the bookstore.”

“Okay, go out the back and be quick.” She hugs me tight.

“Thanks,” I whisper, returning the hug. Hoping Milos doesn’t punish me for this by keeping me away from her.

There are several cabs waiting, the drivers sipping on coffee before they go out to accept fares. Knocking on the window of one, I ask him if he’s up for a fare and offer a twenty. He takes it and I give him the address to Tony’s bookstore.

Opening the door to the bookstore, I inhale deeply. Oh, I’m definitely coming back here. There are new books then a side room of used books. I could get lost in a place like this for hours.

An older woman with graying blonde hair is studying me.

“Hi, I’m Celia Parker. I was hoping to speak with Tony. Is he available?”

“You’re Carlo’s daughter, aren’t you?” she asks.

I nod.

“No dear, sorry, he’s not in today. Since you’re Carlo’s daughter I’m willing to point you to his home.”

A nice lady, she gives me the address and then the directions from here. It’s not far. I could walk it and if I weren’t sure Milos would figure out I was gone soon, I would. Out on the street I hail a cab and give him the address and directions.

Tony Sabatini’s house is pretty. A four-square in red brick with black trim and a black wrought-iron gate around it. Even though it’s far smaller than Carlo’s and Milos’s, it seems more welcoming, like it’s the kind of home that’s loud and filled with love. Hmm, I wonder how I’m supposed to get in. Suddenly the gate is buzzed open. I look up to see a camera pointed at the gate and give a wave as I walk through it.

I’m at the steps when Tony Sabatini opens the front door. He’s holding a baby boy who is him in miniature down to the blue eyes. My chest gives a little squeeze at how cute he is. He buries his face in Tony’s neck to hide from me.

“Celia, is everything okay? Come in.” He steps back to give me room.

His home is exactly as it seems from the outside and the kind of place I would have picked over Carlo’s or even Milos’s a dozen times over. “Yes, I needed to ask you…I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No bother at all. I told you, anything you need I’m here for you and your sister. Come in to my office. I need to keep ahold of Santino though. My wife is resting. She’s pregnant with twins and lately is tired more often than not.” He guides the way deeper into the house.

I spot an open door into a library with books lining the walls. His office is similar to the library but slightly more imposing. He gestures to a chair in front of a fire. “He’s gorgeous. I heard about the twins. Congratulations.”

Santino gives me a gummy smile. “Hi, yes, I’m talking about you. You know you’re handsome. Don’t you?”

He gurgles as he laughs.

“Would you like to hold him?” Tony asks.

“Yes, please. It’s been forever since I got to hold a baby. Thank you.” Santino is a sweet baby. He’s a confident little guy who comes to me with a laugh, although he checks to make sure Tony is nearby.

Tony sits down across from me. “You wanted to ask me…”

“What do you think of Milos, as a man, as a—I don’t know. Do you think he will be a good husband?” I sigh, as I run a hand over Santino’s head. He sighs in return and buries his head into my chest. So soft, I ache knowing I’ll have to hand him back.

Leaning back, Tony studies me. “Milos Levin is mafia so there’s always that to consider. Beyond that and most important is how he does business. With a bend to exploit, break down, or take? Or is there an attempt to find a balance of power?”

Blue eyes see my understanding. “He was willing to stop trafficking—to go against his father and grandfather. Something not to be ignored. It doesn’t matter he ended up making more money in the end with us, it took several years for that to happen. A willingness to see the error of your ways and attempt to become better is not something many men are able to do. Over the years Milos has become a better man than he was when I first met him, and I thought he was a good man from the beginning. I think he will make an excellent husband.”

Relief fills me, I run a hand over Santino’s back. I think it soothes me more than it does him. “In what ways has he changed?” I can’t help wondering aloud.

“He took to studying, he did not assume he knew it all. While his father raised him with the lessons he learned in his years of experience, there was still much they needed to learn. His father stressed brute force and strength. They did not work on building loyalty within their men. Milos saw that and he was willing to change—without ego. He studied the books Dominic read then asked him for more. Not really surprising he grew to admire Sulla the most and adopted ‘No better friend, no worse enemy’ as a personal motto.” Tony’s tone is dry.

“I promise you, Celia, if I thought he would not be good to you I never would have gone to your father with Milos’s request for you. He’s smart. It was not until Dominic discussed their negotiation I figured out what Milos truly wanted.”

“Milos came to you?” I’m confused.

He nods. “He said he knew Carlo had daughters and asked Dominic to speak with Carlo about a match. Dominic brought him to me to see how I thought Carlo would react, as he is aware Carlo speaks far more freely with me than him about Milos. Not in that Carlo respects me more than Dominic—in that he doesn’t. Carlo doesn’t want to piss off Dominic. If I thought Milos would not be good for you, I would have quashed it before it got any further. However, you will be the one who has to live with him. If you do not want this, then tell me and I will ensure it will not happen.”

I believe him. “Thank you, Tony.” I shake my head as I look down at Santino, who looks up at me with a grin. “I think I just needed to hear it from someone else.”

Blue eyes are intent on me. “Hear what from someone else?”

“That I’m not just going with what I want and ignoring red flags. I’m sure my mom thinks her relationship with Carlo isn’t the dysfunctional one it is.” I shrug.

A dark eyebrow goes up. “The way things appear from the outside is rarely how they are on the inside. I would have thought you would understand that by now.”

I’m opening my mouth to ask him what he means when an alert sounds, and he pulls his phone from his pocket. “Your fiancé is coming in very hot. Do you want to leave with him?”

Sighing, I nod. Tony gives me a smile before pressing a button on his phone. I stand and hand him back Santino. The moment I do, I miss the feel of the baby in my arms.

Tony is in front of me, opening the door to Milos. I don’t bother looking at him as I walk out onto the porch and make my way to the black SUV idling in front of Tony’s house.

I got the answer I needed. I don’t care Milos is pissed and will likely tighten the noose from here on out. Something Tony said niggles at the back of my mind, but I can’t remember what it was exactly. Whatever, it’s done.

Milos slams his door. “What the hell was that?”

Sighing, I shrug. “I needed to know if Tony thought you would be…if I was making a mistake in saying yes.”

“And?” he demands.

“I left with you, didn’t I?” I keep my eyes out the window.

Nothing else is said as I’m driven home but I have a feeling that is the last time I get to go anywhere without Peter or someone else glued to my side. It’s fine, in the end it was worth it.

***

I’d know my mom’s knock anywhere. The timidity of it is the giveaway. Also Carina doesn’t knock, just barrels in. Which is why I keep the door locked. I know Carina by her attempt to open my door, then her outrage at finding it locked.

Opening my door, I’m a little surprised my mother’s here at all. Since I went to school she basically lived full time with Carlo. From what Carina told me she was never here.

“How are you?” she mumbles.

I don’t want her in my room, so I make a movement to go with her out into the living room. She understands and backs away, going to sit on the sofa.

I shrug. “I’m fine. What is this? The what-to-expect-on-my-wedding-night talk? No need, already covered.”

With a sigh, she reaches for my hand. I pull away. She blinks fast at the move. I can’t help it. I don’t want her touching me. For years she never hugged me. She still doesn’t hug me.

I figured out not to seek her out at night when I had a nightmare or was sick. If I was lucky Carina was up and we comforted each other. It was even better when I woke up at my nonna’s house and she gave me all the hugs and care I needed.

Despite all of that, I loved my mother. I wanted her to be my mother—but she didn’t want to or couldn’t be. When Nonna died the emptiness of my mother’s love echoed around me. I never stopped trying to win her love, to be the daughter I thought she wanted me to be, so maybe she could…

It was the cancer thing that broke me. I did all the heavy lifting for her, there at all the times she needed me, holding her while she cried. And as usual, I was the one who hugged her, she still didn’t hug me. Carlo wasn’t there at all—not for any of us. Yet the minute she was healthy, she acted as if he was the one who was there for her. I loved my mother, but I didn’t like her.

And what hurts the most is I have no doubt she is aware and doesn’t care. For her, all that matters is Carlo. I can’t forgive her for the way she hurt me and my sister—sacrificing us at the altar for Carlo.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay with this. I’ve looked into Milos Levin and he’s a good man. He will make you a good husband. You will be happy with him.” Her soft green eyes are from her Scottish father, who met my Filipino grandmother while he was stationed in her country. They remind me of Carina, yet as I look into them I feel none of the love I feel for Carina—the love I used to feel for her.

“Like you give a fuck. If I hadn’t said yes you would have pushed Carina on him because it’s what Carlo wants. The quicker you can be done with us the better for the both of you. I know Milos told you to help me with the wedding, but I don’t want you to. I’ll have a wedding planner. It’s all I need and want.” I stand and make my way into my room and close the door firmly. Then like the idiot I am, I cry for all the things I wanted from my mother and never got—will never get.