Chapter 34

My breath starts to come fast as we walk up the stone steps to the mafia mansion. And not because I’m winded – I’m pretty fit, actually, what with all of the dancing.

But the tension that builds in me – god, who the hell lives in a place like this?

What control of wealth do they have, to be able to afford it, to maintain it?

Unfortunately, there’s no real time to think on it as Christian pushes open the front door, not bothering to knock. And even though I’m at first surprised by this, I straighten my shoulders when I realize that of course he doesn’t knock – this is his home.

Christian – he lives here. I look around the palatial space, all marble and Turkish rugs and posh furnishings. My eyes drift upwards to the sweeping staircase, to the landing above bordered by an ornate iron rail. Somewhere up there Christian probably has a bedroom –

Unless, as Frankie suggested, he actually lives in one of the other houses on this property – so far away that they can’t even be seen from the main house.

My eyes flick downwards, to land on the back of Christian’s head as I follow him forward. God, who even is he anymore, to be so comfortable in a space like this?

If this really is Wonderland, then Christian is every inch the part of it.

And me?

Even though I’m dressed in my Gucci dress and a pair of boots that probably cost more than what I make on a good night at the club, I know that I stick out like a sore thumb.

Christian doesn’t pause as we cross the foyer and a formal living room that I suspect no one uses, heading for the back of the house. My head swivels, looking around at everything, and I find myself shocked to hear quite a bit of noise and voices in the house – especially that of children running around upstairs.

“Kids?” I say, turning to Frankie, who is again at my side.

He smiles a little and nods. “It’s a family above all things, Iris,” he murmurs, nodding forward and silently begging me to pay attention to where I’m going. “Kids are the most important part.”

I nod, refocusing my eyes, but I almost bump into Christian ahead of me, who has suddenly stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Oh hey Chris!” a feminine voice says, laughing a low, dark laugh. I peek around him to see a very beautiful, very pregnant woman standing there in a matching velour sweatsuit, her dark hair piled on top of her head and a cup of steaming tea in her hands. “Welcome home!”

Christian sighs deeply and lets her hear every breath of it. “Hey, Giana.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks, and I don’t miss that her eyes are on me even as she tilts her head obligingly to accept his greeting. “You’re looking well. The baby doing okay?”

“Oh, enough about the baby,” she laughs, not taking her eyes from mine, “not like you actually care. Who is this!?”

Slowly, Giana walks forward, one hand on her stomach as she tilts her head at me, coming close.

“This is Iris,” Christian replies, his voice dead to any emotion or hint about how he feels about me being here. “She’s here to see dad.”

“Oh,” Giana laughs, her eyes going wide with pleasure. “Must be important if you’re going to see the big man so early in the morning.”

“It’s only early if you get up at 10, Gi,” Nico says, his voice sarcastic, and I find myself surprised to hear him tease her.

Giana laughs and flicks her eyes to him once before returning to me. Then, slowly, she drags her eyes from my head to my toes, giving me a big fake smile. “Nice to meet you, Iris. I’m Giana – Christian’s sister-in-law. Family.” She says the last word sharply, making it very, very clear that she is what I am not.

Then her eyes move slowly back up to my face. “They certainly cleaned you up nice,” she murmurs. “Who dressed you today? Nico?” She learns forward a little bit, a smug smile on her lips. “And what is it that you really want to be wearing, little Iris? Just a g-string, so you can be off to work next?”

My eyes go wide as I realize that she knows precisely who I am, and that my reputation precedes me. She laughs, pleased, when she sees my expression.

“Enough, Gi,” Christian sighs, backtracking a little to take my arm in his hand, tugging me forward. “Let’s go.”

I step forward, not saying anything else to her, and Giana turns to watch me go. To my surprise, though, before we can make it very far down the hall two kids come streaking out of a door, their clothes unkept and their attitudes worse.

“Mooooom!” the little girl screeches, and I turn to watch her run right for Giana, slamming into her legs and wrapping her arms around her mother’s thigh, almost making Giana spill her tea. “Mom, Ricky took my phone and threw it in the toilet!”

“I didn’t!” the little boy protests, his fat face red and angry as he storms after his sister, “Bella dropped it and she’s blaming me –“

“I didn’t!” Bella screeches, tilting her head back as she screams. My eyes go wider, if possible, to see her meltdown. Christian just sighs and tugs me along with him.

“Enough!” Giana snaps, her word doing nothing to silence her two kids as they burst into frantic yells, each accusing the other of destroying the phone.

Frankie grimaces a little as the four of us move past the family drama. He catches my eye and shakes his head, mouthing “spoiled brats” as we move along.

I don’t respond though, too shocked and overwhelmed. But, seriously – if I had ever yelled like that in front of my mother, or Christian’s?

Well, let’s just say that we have had a smack upside the head coming our way – kids in my world were not allowed to act like that.

The four of us pass through a door into another hallway, and as it closes behind us the children’s shouting fades away. New anxiety grips me now as Christian heads for an elaborate oak door at the end of the hall, placing his hand on the golden handle and knocking.

Because if Christian has to knock, at this door in his own home?

Well.

Then there can only really be one person behind it, can’t there?

“Come in!” a voice booms, sounding bothered already by the interruption.

Christian sends a quick glance my way before turning the knob and pushing open the door. To my surprise, there’s another woman standing there. I pause in my step forward, not knowing precisely what to do.

“Cristian!” she murmurs, surprised, her voice slightly slurred as she reaches for him. “Oh, baby, it’s so good to see you.”

“Hello, Bianca,” Christian replies, his voice warm as he gently embraces the woman, pressing her tight before she steps back, his face in her hands, studying it.

“You look tired, little boy,” she murmurs, shaking her head at him, blinking slowly – too slowly.

I glance at Frankie, who just gives me a shrug and mouths the word “Xanax.”

I nod, turning my eyes back to him. “I’m fine, Bianca,” Christian replies with a soft smile. My head turns slightly, because clearly he is fond of this woman.

“You come get breakfast when you’re done in here,” she sighs, letting him go and moving to Nico next, giving him a kiss on the cheek, even though she ignores Frankie and me. “You’re both too skinny.”

“Just because you want us to be big fat lards, Bianca,” Nico laughs, giving her a quick kiss before she moves down the hall.

“Meat on your bones!” she calls over her shoulder, moving away. But there’s no time to watch her go as Frankie presses a hand between my shoulder blades, calmly and quietly urging me to move forward.

So I move, following Christian’s footsteps into the huge study beyond, which is flooded with sunlight from the windows on three sides.

Behind me, Nico closes the door.

My eyes focus instantly on the huge man lounging behind the desk, my eyes moving towards him as if he’s the center of gravity. My breath instantly catches in my throat because…

God, because he looks like Christian. I mean, a harsher version of my friend – his face is craggy, and cruel, and lined where Christian’s is smooth and refined.

But the resemblance…

How did I ever miss this? How, in seeing images of Antonio Romano on television, did I ever miss that he’s Christian’s father?

“So,” Antonio Romano says, his voice slow and rumbling with anger like it’s his natural state. He leans back in his chair, the muscles in his huge, powerful shoulders rolling like a predator at ease. I gulp as his eyes move slowly over me in the same way that Giana’s did, taking in every inch. “This is the little girl that’s been giving us so much trouble.”