Good Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (13 page)

“
Y
ou look beautiful
, baby,” Kane says, and then kisses the crook of my neck. “But I think you need a little something extra.” I turn in his arms, and stand on my tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips. He grins at me as he reaches in his back pocket.

My heart sputters in my chest. Could it possibly be a ring? No. I shove down that hope even though it’s clawing its way up my chest. These last two weeks have been a dream come true. We have a cute little apartment I’m making into a home. I just got accepted into the university. All the little things on my wishlist are getting checked off.

And it’s all because of Kane. He’s my everything, and I feel like he loves me. I feel like we’re meant to be together. The doubt I had seems to dim each day. Most of the time I think we’re perfectly happy, perfectly fit for one another. I almost feel whole with him.

But a ring?

He’d be committing his life to me.
To a liar.
The dark voice that’s gone quiet for so long speaks up, and depression shatters the fantasy in my head.

“These.” He opens the box to reveal a pair of drop dangle sapphire earrings. “I think they’d really bring out your eyes.” My heart slows, and my world seems to stop. They’re beautiful. He gently pries one from the box and I quickly hold out my hand, waiting with bated breath.

I put them on one at a time and then face myself in the mirror. The silver boatneck dress I’m wearing clings to my curves. It sparkles in the mirror. My skin looks radiant. I’ve certainly gained weight. My hand rests on my lower tummy. Maybe a little too much weight. I clear my throat as Kane’s eyes catch mine in the mirror.

Déjà vu hits me. I remember what I looked like that day. My eyes drift to my neck, where the collar used to be. Where Kane’s collar was that day. I look to the small jewelry box on top of the dresser. He thinks I threw it away, but I didn’t. I don’t want to. It reminds me of that day and who I really am. I feel the blood drain from my face as the day plays fast-forward before my eyes.

“Do you like them?”

“I love them.” I force out a peppy voice and try to show him my sincerest gratitude.

I feel like a fraud. I don’t know what I’ve been doing all these days playing house with Kane. That’s what it feels like now that I’m reminded who I am. It’s fake. It’s all pretend.

I close my eyes and try to will away the feelings, but instead I see a flash of his face. My eyes open quickly and I instantly catch Kane’s questioning expression in the mirror.

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah.” I force a casual smile onto my face and then look back in the mirror. My fingers touch the sapphires and I watch as they sparkle in the mirror. They’re beautiful.

But I don’t deserve them.

* * *

W
hite tablecloths cover every table
. Some have pale pink overlays, while others have a soft lavender. There are at least 20 tables in the hall, although most are empty now. Most guests are on the dance floor, leaving the tables empty. My ass has remained firmly in this chair ever since Kane sat me down. I don’t know anyone here. He at least knows a handful of the men.

It’s Vince’s uncle’s godson’s wedding. So, no one I fucking know. The only people I do recognize are the few from a time in my life I’m doing my best to forget. I loved how Kane put his arm around me during dinner. He made me feel more welcomed, and more comfortable. But I still couldn’t manage to contribute to the conversation.

Becca and Dom have a newborn, a son. I love babies, but I couldn’t speak up. Elle is pregnant now and she looks so beautiful, but I didn’t even compliment her.

This wedding is just like every other wedding. Only every wedding I’ve ever gone to in the past was for family.

I remember the last wedding I went to with my family. I went with my mother, father, and sister. We were the first table. Naturally. My father always got the first and best of everything. Alec Ivanov, the Pakhan of the Russian mafia, the Bratva. My father was an immigrant in the States when he met my mother. He was there on family business, but elected to stay behind when she got pregnant with my sister.

When I was eight, my grandfather died. We were only supposed to go there for the funeral, but that’s when things changed. My father went on the warpath. He was out for blood. And he got it. He quickly became known as a threat, but instead of fighting him, they made him the Pakhan, the boss.

It didn’t take long for things to spiral out of control. I don’t know whether my mother and sister didn’t see, didn’t care, or just didn’t want to admit it was true. The men my father associated with in his line of business were strange, and touched my sister and I more than they should have. I know my parents saw, but they didn’t do anything to stop it. It’s like my father paraded us around, saying we were untouchables, but he never did anything to actually enforce that. I never felt safe with any of the men he'd bring around, but he’d leave us alone with them and practically dare them to disobey him.

He taunted them.

He started coming home late and drugged up or drunk most nights. One night I watched as he beat my mother until her head hit the wall so hard she went unconscious. I watched as he kicked her, thinking she was faking it. Once, then again. He looked genuinely sorry he’d hurt her when he realized she wasn’t faking. He got down on his knees and held her. And then he passed out.

I’d never wanted to hurt someone so much in my life. He was there, helpless. But I didn’t. Not then.

I never saw him try to hit her again, but I was ready. He did leave me alone with his men again, well he tried, anyway. I was only 16. And Marie, only 14. But I knew better, and I wasn’t going to stand for it again.

“You’re a sick fuck!” I yelled at him as he turned his back on me. Our own father. Marie grabbed my wrist to pull me back, but I wasn’t going to let him do this to us. Leaving us with men who could hurt me, men who wanted to hurt me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but they were from anger. I remember the faces of the men in the room.

“Excuse me?” he sneered, stomping toward me. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” His face was so red, and his eyes the darkest they’d ever been. His fists were clenched at his sides.

But I stood my ground.

“You know what you’re doing.” I looked to my right at the three men watching me with nervous glances. “How could you do this to us?”

His eyebrows raised, and a sick smile formed on his face. It was then that I realized I no longer truly knew him. He was a monster.

“Maybe I should just leave you here.” He nodded to the men in the room. “I’m sure they could teach you what this mouth is for.” He gripped my face and shook my head. My eyes burned, and my heart hurt.

When he let me go, the force made me stumble back. “You wouldn’t,” I said, looking up at him with daggers in my eyes. “It wouldn’t be as much fun to you.” I sneered at the ground, not bothering to look my father, the bastard he was, in the eyes. I grabbed my sister’s hand and dragged her out of the room with me. It was silent. I’d never been so scared in my life as we hid in my room. Waiting for him to come home.

I was too ashamed to tell my mother.

When he finally walked through the doors and my mother called us to dinner, it was as though nothing had happened.

As though we were the same family, not one of us broken.

I couldn’t swallow a single bite; I kept waiting. But nothing ever happened, and he never brought either of us around his businesses again.

That was my family.

And now they’re all dead.

I take a sip of water and try to calm myself. I need to stop with all these negative memories. I’m doing a miserable job of fitting in. The men took off a bit ago to let the women chat. I’m finding it hard to click with them, though. They seem like wonderful people; women I’d love to be friends with. But I’m holding myself back.

At least Kane doesn’t seem to notice. And everyone seems to think I’m just shy.

“Oh, she’s so shy,” they all say. And, “You’re so sweet.” I’ve heard it over and over today. I’m not sure why. I feel awkward and like I’m failing Kane. He just keeps kissing my cheek and running his hand up and down my back.

But now he’s gone.

Elle and Becca have been talking about kids and I know they don’t mean to, but I feel a little excluded. Even though every time they ask me a question, I give them a one-word answer. Maybe it’s better this way.

My heart sinks a little. I don’t want it to be this way. I take a deep breath and notice a pause in their conversation, so I cut in.

“Where did you two meet your husbands?” I keep my tone peppy and give them a bright smile. I lean forward to show them they have my full attention.

Becca answers first. “Work.” She looks to her right as if she’s searching Dom out in the crowd, and adjusts the napkin on her lap. But after a second she turns back to me with a small smile. “Sort of through my ex-husband.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you were divorced.”

“He passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I respond quickly, and with a lowered voice. Dead. Death follows me everywhere.

“Where did you two meet?” Elle asks.

I blink once, then twice at them. “I was sort of lost...” I start to say, and Becca raises her eyebrows, almost comically. “In the States, I mean. I’m from here originally, but we moved to Russia when I was young. I bumped into Kane and he helped me find my footing here.” I make up a bullshit answer.

“Oh! So that’s where that hint of an accent comes from!” Elle says.

“Accent?” Becca looks at Elle like she just said something truly perverted.

“I think I may have a tiny accent on some words. But I was older when we moved,” I answer.

Elle starts to ask the obvious question. And I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as her mouth slams shut. I wonder how much she knows. How quickly she’ll be able to put two and two together.

“I have to say, you two are an adorable couple. I’m so happy we finally got a chance to meet you,” Becca says, and Elle nods in agreement.

I feel a slight smile pull at my lips and say thank you, but my chest hurts.

How did they meet? At a bar and through work. Like normal people.

“I have to pee. Again,” Elle says, holding her swollen belly and it’s funny, but I don’t laugh.

“Do you have to go, too?” Becca asks.

I do. But I’d rather not right now.

“No, you two go ahead. I’ll wait right here for you.” I smile back at them.

“Are you sure?” Becca asks.

“Of course, I’ll keep an eye out for the dessert tray for us.” I force out a happy tone. But I’m feeling more insecure than ever.

“You’re so sweet,” Elle answers, and turns to her right as someone calls out her name. She leans closer to me with a smile and says, “We’ll be right back to talk more.” She squeals at the end and it forces a smile from me.

But it’s forced nonetheless.

Everyone keeps calling me a sweet girl. Kane thinks I’m a good girl, but I’m not. None of them know me. Not the real me.

I’m not like these women. They’re strong, and obviously in love with their men. But they’re also normal. They aren’t ruined and broken beyond repair. My eyes fall, and I reach for the tall glass of champagne in front of me and put it to my lips. I taste the smallest bit on my tongue, but nausea keeps me from taking more into my mouth.

And they may already know who I am. What I’ve been through. They could be talking about it in hushed whispers in the bathroom right now.

Everyone at the wedding may know. They’ve been sweet to my face, but behind my back, what are they saying?

I’m sick of who I am. I’m sick of hiding it. I’ll never be okay. I’ll never heal. My eyes search the room and I find Kane by the bar. Talking and laughing. It’s genuine, not forced like me.

He deserves so much more.

Shame and guilt consume me.

He’s done so much for me; how can I treat him like this? All I do is lie to him and pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t keep doing this. I set the glass down and lift the white linen napkin off my lap. As I place it on the table, I see the knife.

I casually slip the knife into my clutch and stand up.

No one will notice me leaving.

My heart clenches at the thought of Kane finding out. But it’ll be better this way. He deserves so much more than me. I’m so fucking selfish. I’ll keep lying to keep him. It’s wrong. I’m ruined and broken.

I’m not his good girl.

W
here the hell
is Ava going? I watch as a sliver of her dress vanishes behind the door. It closes slowly and I give it a moment before opening it as quietly as possible so she doesn’t hear me sneaking up on her.

I can’t imagine what she’s up to. She’s not from around here, so I don’t think she’d be doing anything but taking a look around. Still, it’s not wise. She should know that. You don’t go snooping around on mafia territory. It’s just not smart. I hear her heels clicking down the hall as I walk slowly to the corner. And then the noise is gone, replaced by the patter of her feet smacking against the tiled floor.

Maybe her feet are hurting her and she just needs some fresh air? My forehead wrinkles in confusion. She has to know I’d give them a little rubdown for her. I clench my jaw as I turn the corner. Something twists in my gut. This is off. Something’s just not right.

Ava’s my good girl. She never leaves to go anywhere without telling me. I clench my fists as I hear the large doors to the back entrance of the hall open with a soft creak. As my pace picks up, so does my heartbeat.

Adrenaline races through my blood. I catch the door just before it closes shut and open it as silently as I can. I peek out and see her walking into the edge of a line of trees to the left. I clench and unclench my hands. I want to pretend she’s going to be happy to see me when I get to her, but I’m not fucking stupid. That’s not going to happen.

Ava wouldn’t have gone off by herself like this if everything was okay.

I just need to find out what the fuck is going on.

I take a look to my left and then look to my right. No one’s out here. The night’s dark except for the light from the full moon. The air is crisp and feels cool against my skin. I can faintly hear her steps and the crunching of leaves and branches under her feet just beneath the sounds of the night. The crickets are loud as fuck.

I walk quickly and decide I don’t give a shit if she hears me as I enter the woods. I’m not gonna tiptoe through the trees to find out what my baby’s doing. As a branch cracks beneath my heavy steps, I catch a glimpse of Ava.

I see her silver dress sparkle with the barest hint of moonlight. I see her raise her wrist. Then I see a bright light. A reflection, just above her wrist. I don’t stop as my forehead creases in confusion. It doesn’t register as I speed up my pace to get to her.

Not until her eyes catch sight of me, which is the same moment that I snatch her wrist and yank it away. Her eyes widen and fill with fear. Her other arm lowers to her side and something drops to the ground with a loud thud. Her face pales and her eyes look at the ground.

My breath catches in my throat as I pull her body closer to me. She trembles in my embrace.

No. The reality hits me slowly.

No. This isn’t real. It can’t be.

“Ava?” She’s not looking at me. Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes in a ragged breath. “Baby, what are you doing?” Even as I ask the question though, I know. There’s a serrated knife on the ground by her feet. My heart twists in my chest with agony.

No. I close my eyes and brace myself against the tree next to her. My head feels light and dizzy. She was going to slit her wrist.

“Tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” I say with my eyes closed. I’m answered with silence. My chest hollows and my heart refuses to beat. My lungs refuse to fill.

“Why?” I ask, as I open my eyes and see her looking back at me with regret. “Why would you do--?” My voice cracks and my throat goes dry. I can’t finish it. The thought is just too fucked up. Why would she do that to herself?

She shakes her head and opens her mouth, but no words come out. I grip her shoulders in my hands and rest my forehead against hers.

This isn’t real. I keep my eyes closed, waiting for something. For anything to happen that wakes me from this horrific shit.

I love her. I would give her anything.

I thought she was happy.

I thought she loved me, too.

“I’m sorry.” Her breath hitches and her arms wrap around me.

Her touch is all I need. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. I kiss her hair, her forehead. I cup her jaw in my hand and tilt her head so I can push my lips against hers. I need to feel her. I need to know she’s still with me.

At first there’s passion, but then she pulls back.

No. No. I can’t let her. She needs me.

Don’t pull away from me, Ava.

Her lips leave mine as her body moves away, and I’m greeted by the chill of the night.

“I’m sorry, Kane,” she says as she wraps her arms around her shoulders. I quickly rip off my jacket and wrap it around her slender frame. At first she resists, but she caves. She always caves to me.

“This is my fault, but I’ll fix this, Ava. I can make it better. Whatever it is.” I grip onto her hips under my jacket that’s draped over her shoulders. I pull her toward me and whisper, “I can fix this.” I can, and I will. Whatever happened, whatever triggered this...I’ll make it better.

Her eyes turn sad and I see the answer on her face, before she starts shaking her head.

“I’m too broken. No one can fix me.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just not normal anymore; I’ll never be normal again.” I don’t understand. Where is my Ava? This isn’t her.

“Fuck, normal? Who fucking cares about normal?” I try to blow it off, like there’s nothing to this. But she’s not okay. I can help her though.

“I’m not okay, Kane. I’m happy I killed them!” she yells out, and I find myself covering her mouth and holding her close to me. You never fucking know who’s listening to this shit. This is a public place, and the fucking cops know it’s a family wedding.

“Shh. Don’t say that shit, Ava,” I whisper in her ear, and she starts fighting my hold on her. I fucking hate it. I hate her fighting me. She never has before. Not once. She struggles in my arms, and it fucking destroys me.

I let her go to try to calm her down. I’m not helping this situation. And I fucking need to figure it out fast.

“I’m not the woman you think I am, Kane,” she finally says in a calmer voice than I expected. It’s a voice with resolve. I shake my head as as an uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

She tried to kill herself to get away from me.

“I thought you wanted to be with me,” I say. I know she did. I gave her a chance to go. She said this was real for her, too.

“You’ll never love me.” She whispers her words.

I shake my head and hold onto her hips, forcing her closer to me. “I love you, Ava.” I search her eyes for a reaction, but there’s nothing. “Is that what you need to hear, baby? I love you so fucking much. I’m so damn proud to have you as my girl. I’ll make you my wife.” Tears prick at my eyes. I almost bought a ring to go with those earrings. The only thing holding me back was I wasn’t sure what design she would have liked. I’m so fucking ready to have it all with her.

But I can see it in her face that she’s leaving me.

Her mind is already made up.

“I can’t be with you. If you love me, you’ll let me go.” My heart sinks in my chest as I watch tears stream down her face. “I can’t be with anyone right now.” She heaves in a breath and wipes her eyes, smearing her mascara. Her tear-stained cheeks and wide, glassy eyes only make her more beautiful. Everything in me pushes me to comfort her. I know she needs me. If only she’d let me help her.

I take a step forward to pull her into my arms and calm her down. She’s just worked up over something. This is all a mistake.

But she steps back.

She pulls out of my arms.

I stare at her with disbelief as she wipes away her tears and bends down to pick up her clutch.

“I’m sorry, Kane,” she whispers, and then sobs into her hands.

She’s leaving me.

She doesn’t love me. It doesn’t stop me from pulling her into my arms and rocking her. I try my best to soothe her. This time she lets me, but I know as soon as I let go, she’s not going to be mine anymore.