Emilia: Part 2 (Trassato Crime Family Book 4) Read online

  I’d used my grief as an excuse to avoid dealing with the past. To some that may have sounded like a copout, but it was true. While Gavin and I weren’t in love, being part of his family filled a hole in me that had been there since my mother killed herself. I buried all of my doubts, anger, and loneliness first in nursing Gavin’s mother, then in reviving the ranch.

  When I found Gavin dead in the barn, everything I worked so hard for crumbled before my eyes. I couldn’t deny that deep in my bones I knew our marriage was over, though maybe things could have ended on amicable terms if we were honest with each other. Even though we made a good team, being back here for less than twenty-four hours made me face reality. No matter what I received from my grandfather’s estate, I couldn’t live here and run this place without him. I didn’t want to try.

  “Go ahead. I’m waiting,” I prompted when Sal didn’t make any attempt to begin.

  “Right.” Sal swallowed and briefly shuttered his hazel eyes. “The day I found you hiding in your father’s study, I knew you were up to no good. You shouldn’t have been there eavesdropping on his business. I should have told your dad the truth right then, but I didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why except that I liked you. You were funny and so desperate to hide the truth from him. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so against my better judgment I went to your birthday party and kissed you.”

  “I remember,” I said softly. It was my first kiss, and as much as what happened later hurt me, I’d never forget that night.

  “Yeah, well, I tried to stay away from you after that, but your father noticed I asked about you a lot and I offered to pick you up more than once for Gian. Anyway, he came to me with a plan that would benefit both of us.”

  My heart stalled inside my chest, and a little voice inside my head told me to get up and walk away. I’d yearned for the truth for so long, and now that Sal promised to give it to me, I wondered if hearing it would do more damage than good.

  The old adage that the truth will set you free rumbled through my brain. Only now I feared the truth would crush both of us instead.

  “You know what? I changed my mind. I don’t want to hear this.” I slipped out of my seat and grabbed the carafe, refilling my cup.

  Sal gave me a melancholy smile. “The past isn’t the past until we deal with it.”

  “I’m going to hate you when you finish this, aren’t I?”

  “You already do. I don’t think either of us have anything to lose if I come clean.”

  “Fine.” I slumped back into the chair, my legs bouncing under the table. “Keep going.”

  “Bad blood between the Masciantonios and the Trassatos goes back decades. I don’t know why. I only know your dad wanted to do something to undermine your engagement to Marcello.”

  “Wait. Why did he accept the arrangement in the first place if he didn’t like it?”

  “You were promised to Marcello from the moment you were born to settle some feud between the Trassatos, the Masciantonios, and the Bonacorrsos. I don’t know any more than that. Marcello probably does, but I wasn’t around then. Your father never filled me in on the details; he only shared what he thought I needed to know.” Sal leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs and crossing his ankles. “Anyway, your father wanted me to pursue you. Make you fall in love with me, run away with you, and hopefully marry you. The whole thing didn’t sit well with me.”

  I was unable to suppress the anger burning through me. “You obviously got over your objections pretty damn fast.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. My father owed a fortune to the family when he died. They were still pressuring my mother to pay it back, and they wanted my brother to do some stuff for them. Dominick handed me the solution on a platter. My family’s debt would be forgiven, and he would be able to cut the Masciantonios and the Bonaccorsos out of his life forever.”

  The coffee turned into acid in my stomach. “So you sacrificed yourself for your family. How noble. No wonder Lettie found the whole thing so funny. Poor, pathetic, dumb Emilia actually thought Sal liked her.”

  I scooped my mug off the table and turned my back to him, my entire body trembling. Logically, I knew his confession shouldn’t sting. Years had passed. We both were different people. Yet hearing my suspicions confirmed from his mouth brought back all the anger and resentment I worked so hard to lay to rest. Only this time, most of it centered on my father, not Sal. What kind of man manipulated his daughter and some stranger to achieve revenge or whatever sick goal he had in mind?

  “What’s the plan this time around, Sal? Why are you here? Is it the money? Or are you just following my father’s wishes?”

  Sal’s arms circled my waist, and until then I didn’t notice the full body tremors rolling through me. I inhaled deeply in an effort to calm my sleep-deprived mind, and I regretted it instantly. His scent enveloped me, bringing back memories. So many fuckin’ memories. I wished my brain had a shut-off valve.

  “I wasn’t done yet.”

  “There’s nothing left to say.” I wiggled my body, scrambling to break his grasp. When I realized he wouldn’t give up, my shoulders slackened. I’d let him say whatever he needed, then go back to my room. This would be the final chapter in our story.

  “Being with you was never a chore.”

  “Oh, lucky me. You didn’t shudder at the thought of spending time with me. I feel…” I searched for a word, “…blessed.”

  “The more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to be with you. I loved you, Emilia. I still do.”

  He tightened his fingers around my waist and nuzzled my neck as though he wanted to drink me in. A wave of lightheadedness snaked through me, and I relaxed, letting my back brush against his chest. The warm, familiar blanket of nostalgia for Sal, for us, curled around me. A part of me toyed with the idea of slipping back into whatever Sal and I had all those years ago.

  I wouldn’t have to face the fallout from Gavin’s death alone. Sal would hold me up and put me back together exactly like he did the year before I ran away. Marcello made it clear he had no interest in me. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge, no matter how small to give in to him. Rekindling things with Sal was self-destructive. I’d tried to make a marriage work with a man I didn’t love as more than a friend. I wouldn’t do it again.

  Sal’s thumb skimmed the hem of my t-shirt, and I felt…nothing. “I wanted to run away with you for real and sever all ties to your father so you’d never realize his fingerprints were all over our relationship. Other times I wanted to confess so damn bad and give us a clean slate. Lay a new foundation. When you left without a word or an explanation, the only thing that kept me from running after you was that I hoped you were finally living life on your terms without interference. I couldn’t give you that. I was so far down the rabbit hole with The Family, I didn’t believe I had anything to offer you.”

  He spun me in his arms, keeping me pinned to him. With his eyes fixed on me filled with expectation and hope, I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs to calm my nerves and erase all the strange emotions tumbling through me.

  “I don’t know what to say, Sal.” My voice was barely a whisper.

  “Say you won’t close the door on us. Say that after everything settles here, you’ll think about giving us another shot. You came to get me before you left, and we’d be together if Lettie hadn’t cornered me, so you must’ve wanted me then. Maybe with time we could get back to where we were before your engagement party.”

  “My engagement party,” I parroted.

  “Yes. I’ve gone over it a million times in my head, and that’s when everything changed.”

  I dug my fingers into the solid muscles of his biceps. He was right. Marcello was a game changer even more than he knew because once I met him, my feelings for Sal dimmed with every passing day.

  Words of clarification dangled on my tongue. God, there was so much I needed to explain. Sal probably believed I left
without him because of what I overheard that night. Little did he know it was much more complex than that. I’d betrayed him too. I’d slept with Marcello, and when it came down to it, I didn’t think I would have left with Sal.

  “That night, Marcello and I…” I swallowed repeatedly, willing the confession to surface. He needed to know the truth too.

  Heavy, determined footsteps rounded the corner, and our early morning party of two became three. Marcello paused. His dark hair was as rumpled as the t-shirt covering his broad shoulders that somehow managed to be animalistic and graceful at the same time. His lips curled downward, and as I’d come to expect in his presence, my pulse drummed harder.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Guilt heated my cheeks even though I had no logical reason for feeling that way. I whirled out of Sal’s arms and stared out the picture window. The morning twilight painted the sky purple and cornflower blue. The pine trees were black shadows against the picturesque backdrop, and the full moon resembled a pale opal hovering near the mountain peak.

  “Sorry to interrupt such a touching moment.” The razor-sharp tone of Marcello’s voice told the opposite. In fact, he sounded mad, though I didn’t have a clue why. He made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with me. He was fulfilling a promise, nothing more.

  “You weren’t interrupting anything. Do you want some coffee?” I did my best to keep the confrontational edge out of my voice, but it still managed to escape.

  Marcello’s grin resembled a sneer as he eyed Sal. “Sure.”

  My hands shaking, I poured another cup and handed it to Marcello. With every passing second, the air thickened with adrenaline, making the room too small for both Marcello and Sal. This wasn’t about me. It was about stupid male pride, bristling egos, and power.

  “Thanks for the coffee, Em.” Sal smiled, clearly amused by the idea of pissing off Marcello. “I’m going to take a shower now. We can finish our conversation later.”

  I watched his retreating form, battling back the mounting dread pressing on my chest, then faced Marcello. His blue eyes were as dark as a stormy sea. The vein at his temple pulsed like it would explode if I said the wrong thing.

  “What the fuck was that about?” he snarled. “Are you already running back to Sal now that your husband’s out of the way?”

  I glared up at his imposing six-foot plus frame. “First of all, my husband is not out of the way. He’s dead. And secondly, it’s none of your business what I do or who I do it with.”

  He edged closer. “The hell it isn’t. We’re going to the police station today to convince them you didn’t have anything to do with your husband’s death and—”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Throwing yourself at every available man won’t help your case. What are you thinking? I turned you down, so you decided to give things a try with Sal?”

  Stunned that he threw his rejection of me in my face and that there was a tiny bit of truth in his accusation, I jerked back. “I can’t believe you’d bring that up. I was drinking and not thinking clearly. It didn’t mean anything. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

  He gave my shoulder one firm shake and slid his hand down to my hip, wrenching me against his body. And suddenly he was there, invading my personal space exactly like Sal, except this time it felt as if I’d found something I’d been missing for a long time. “I’m not playing this game again, Emilia.”

  “What game?”

  “The one where you bounce between Sal and me.”

  His minty breath whirled around my neck, and goose bumps pebbled my arms. Some things never changed. All he had to do was touch me and my body went on high alert. Craving. Needing. Crackling. Between Sal and him, I felt like a ping-pong ball being pushed in every direction. I pinched my eyes closed, needing my common sense to kick in.

  “No,” I whispered, not sure if my response was for him or a plea to myself to stop reacting to his touch.

  “No, what? You didn’t do that before or you’re not doing it now?” His hand idly moved up and down my back, his cold words juxtaposed with his meandering caresses giving me whiplash. My mind screamed this was a trap. “I’m surprised having a husband who cheated didn’t change your attitude about these little games you play.”

  His words were like a knife, and for a few dizzying beats, I was too shocked to do anything except stand captive in his embrace. “How dare you,” I hissed, finally regaining my wits.

  My hand moved without conscious deliberation, colliding against his cheek. The slapping sound rang in my ears like an explosion. My hand stung, but I didn’t stop there. I curled my hands into fists and banged on his chest, nonsensical words spilling from my mouth like water. All the anger and grief poured out of me like a tidal wave, and it felt damn good to let go instead of bottling the toxic emotions inside of me and allowing them to fester.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Games? You accuse me of playing games? You, my father, Sal, maybe even Lucca, have been playing games with my life since the moment I took my first breath, and I still don’t know the rules.”

  Marcello maneuvered me against wall, imprisoning my hands over my head. “Stop that, little Emilia. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  My muscles slackened. It had been a long time since he called me little Emilia, and it brought back so many memories, both good and bad.

  “It’s your fault,” was the only response I could come up with.

  He leaned his head against the wall next to me. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “I was jealous.”

  Jealous?

  Like hell he was. He couldn’t be jealous unless he still wanted me, and he told me point blank he wasn’t interested. No, he was fucking with my head.

  He’d made all kinds of promises the night I left and seduced me both physically and mentally, all to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was to marry me and eventually access the Bonaccorso fortune, at least according to Sal’s conversation with Lettie that horrible night. My stomach rolled thinking about the chaos of that day and the year after, trying to hide from my family and find a way to support myself when my stash of money ran out.

  “Oh, please. Give me a break. You don’t give a shit about me. Years ago, you may have cared what you could get from an alliance with me, but by your own admission, you’re done with me.”

  Marcello released my hands from his grasp, and his gaze skated down my body. Rather than the cold distaste I normally saw there, his expression was heated and slumberous. “Let’s just get through his damn meeting with the police and then we’ll figure out what comes next.”

  I folded my arms across my chest, a simmering fury slithering through me. “I think I’ll pass. When this whole thing is over this afternoon, you all can leave and go back to your lives.”

  “It’s cute that you think you have a say in any of this.”

  “Think whatever you want. I’m staying here until I know who killed Gavin, and if I have to, I’ll call the police to get all of you out of my home.”

  “Don’t even try it,” he snapped, his blue eyes turning glacial.

  “All’s fair in love and war.”

  He chucked me beneath my chin like I was a child. “I can make things a lot harder than I have in the past. Remember that, little Emilia.”

  I scooped up my coffee mug from the table, marched out of the room, and shouted a parting shot over my shoulder. “Screw you, Marcello.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Let me begin by saying I know this is a trying time for you, so Detective Schneider and I will try and make this as brief as possible,” Detective Littlejohn said, sliding a Styrofoam cup of coffee across the table, an easy smile on his boyish face. He was in his late twenties or early thirties with longish, dirty blond hair and hooded brown eyes. He looked more like a ski bum than a detective, which was pretty typical of the types of guys who lived in this town.

  Detective Schneider, on the o
ther hand, resembled someone directly out of the most recent crime show. He had a balding head, a slightly rounded belly, and deep, disapproving grooves lining his mouth and eyes. I suspected he planned to play bad cop while Detective Littlejohn pretended to be my long lost best friend.

  “Thank you.” I jammed my hands between my skirt-covered legs and the chair. As much as I hated dressing up, my attorney insisted I wear something professional, so I put on the one and only suit I owned.

  Detective Schneider steepled his fingers together, tapping them like he was plotting out how to proceed, then he cleared his throat. “Some of the questions we have for you might seem offensive or coarse, but you can rest assured they are no different from the types of questions that we would ask of any spouse after a suspicious death.”

  “You’ve ruled out suicide?” my attorney, Ron Goldenberg, asked.

  “We haven’t ruled out anything,” Detective Littleton responded, still smiling as if this was the most normal conversation ever. I had a suspicion with time I’d prefer Detective Schneider’s straightforward approach to his phony one.

  “So anyway,” Detective Schneider continued, “I know we’ve already talked about this, but we’d like to run through the day you found your husband in the barn.”

  I glanced at my attorney, and he gave me a curt nod indicating I could proceed. I returned my attention to Detectives Littlejohn and Schneider, taking a moment to gather my thoughts and recite everything as I discussed with Ron in the prep meeting at my house.

  “Right, um, like I said, I went grocery shopping, and when I came home I couldn’t find him. I knew he hadn’t left because his truck was in the garage. I unloaded the groceries, made dinner, and when I hadn’t heard from him after a couple of hours, I went to the barn.”

  “Did he spend a lot of time in the barn?” Detective Littlejohn asked.