Vows and Vendettas

Chapter 7

Blair

The first two weeks of my marriage passed in a blur. Hell, I am not sure if I would even dare to call whatever this is a marriage. Despite Dante’s statement that first morning together that this is a real marriage. Despite the fact that when he kissed me, for a second I forgot all about being forced into this marriage. I forgot all about the reason I should be upset with him and damn it, kissed him back like he was the f*cking air itself.

Yet, I haven't seen him since that morning. Cass had arrived, Dante's second-in-command, entered the penthouse without knocking and scaring the hell out of me in the process. Being on edge from trying to avoid my husband all morning had made me jumpy. They both left shortly after his arrival, and I haven't heard from Dante since.

I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does.

For the first few days, I didn't leave the penthouse. I just sat on the couch wrapped in a fluffy blanket that I found, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city go on without me. Dante did at least keep his word. A new phone arrived the following day. The latest model iPhone was already set up and programmed with his number being the only one saved.

He wasn't my first call, and I am sure that if he had known, he would definitely have something to say about it. No, I called Luca. I want to explain what happened. Let him know that this was not my idea in the least. I couldn't change what had happened now. But I thought that Luca deserved to hear it from me and not just the threats of bodily harm from my husband.

But the call refused to go through.

I've tried every single day, but every time I call, the same strange clicking and static answer me instead of Luca. I even tried texting, but the little undelivered icon popped up underneath the messages every time. All the others went through perfectly to my friends, even messages to Papa were delivered. Clearly, Dante had done something to make it difficult for Luca to contact me and vice versa.

I growled, chunking the brand-new phone across my bed. It skidded across the comforter before coming to a stop near the corner of the mattress.

"Everything okay?" Rocco, my new bodyguard, called from the other side of the master bedroom door.

For a man of his size, he is so quiet. He moves through the penthouse like a ghost; I swear I never hear him enter a room, and it is slightly unnerving. Sighing, I paste a smile on my face and go to open the door and come face to chest with my guard. This man is massive, with shoulders that are so wide that one more inch, and he would have to turn sideways to walk through a doorway. Rocco's eyes instantly searched behind me the second that the door was open far enough for him to see inside. Only when he was satisfied that there was no sign of trouble did he finally look at me.

"Everything is fine," I managed to say normally. "Just still trying to figure out this new phone."

Rocco nods. "Want me to look at it?"

That was definitely the wrong excuse. My heart rate climbs higher when he moves like he is going to come into the room. Instinctively, I put my small body between the wall of a guard and the rest of the room. The last thing I need is for him to see my repeated attempts to contact Luca. He would inform my husband.

"No!" The single word comes out as a high-pitched squeak. Sh*t. I take a calming breath and force my breathing and heart to slow down. "It's fine. Just navigating a new phone is annoying." It's probably the lamest excuse in the world to use right now, but I am panicking.

Rocco looks slightly conflicted about whether he should believe me, and for a moment I think he might actually call me on my bulls*t, but he just nods and steps back away from the door. As if the universe is trying to draw his attention back to the device still sitting on the corner of the bed, it begins to ring loudly.

My feet move quickly as I snatch it up. The display reads Gabby's name.

"Hello?" I answer, again trying to sound a bit more chipper than I really am.

"She lives," Gabby yells through the phone. "Don't worry guys, she hasn't been dicked into a coma yet," she adds enthusiastically to the rest of our group.

I exasperatedly pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Gabby!"

Her laughter erupts on the other end of the phone. "Look, since your back isn't blown out, why don't you come join us for brunch? We miss you."

I miss them too. It feels like forever since my bachelorette night. My chest tightens as my eyes flick to the still open door, and Rocco is still standing in the center watching me with a neutral expression. Do I have to ask him for permission to see my friends? Does my absent husband have to okay me going out?

There is a slew of excited agreement from Mia and Isabelle a second later. "Come on, we have mimosas," one of them calls.

A small laugh bubbles up and out of me. Why should I care what Dante thinks, let alone wants? He isn't here, and I am a grown-ass woman who doesn't need permission to go out for brunch with my friends.

"Alright, you all win. I'll be there in fifteen."

The café patio outside our favorite spot buzzes with late‑morning chatter. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and the rich smell of espresso as it drifts through the warm air from the café. A light breeze lifted the edge of the napkin that had been placed under my water glass, its edge fluttering and sticking to the moisture on the outside of the glass.

Rocco didn't try to stop me from coming like I thought he would. Instead, he grinned while handing me a small black card with an embossed L in a script font across the center. Dante's Black card. And he had given it to me.

“So? What's he really like?” Gabby asked as she leaned so far across the table that I was surprised that she didn't make it tip over in the process. Her bracelets clattered together on her wrist, her eyes gleaming like she was about to uncover some juicy state secrets.

I thought that they would've been upset with me once I told them that I had gotten married without them. They were sad for all of two seconds until I told them that I was married to Dante Lazzari and not Luca. All their questions that I have managed not to answer since then are front and center once again. I didn't know how to answer their questions. Hell, I still don't.

“Oh, I bet he is a beast in bed,” Gabby adds while fanning herself with her hand dramatically and fluttering her lashes. “I heard Serina and him had a thing there for a while. She swore his d**k was as big as her forearm.” Gabby winked over at me, and I damn near choked on my water. “I bet you've been doing a lot of that, you lucky bitch.”

“Gesù Cristo,” I managed to say in between coughs. Jesus Christ

How the two of us not only managed to become friends but stay that way for all of these years is astounding to me. Gabby has no filter, and right now, as my eyes dart to the massive mountain of a guard that stands just a few feet away from our table, arms crossed, sunglasses reflecting the street in front of us as he stares ahead. His shadow stretched across the corner of our table, and I really wish that she had one now.

The last thing that I wanted was for Dante to hear about this conversation and start to think that I was out here thinking or talking about his d**k.

“Just so that we are clear. I wouldn't know.”

Well, that is only partly true. I have a fairly good idea of the size of Dante's d**k. And based on the feel of him beneath me that morning, I would dare to agree with Serina. The entire table goes silent, and I feel all of them staring at me as if I had just grown a second head. Hell, even the birds seemed to stop chirping. Did the sun dim a little too? I lift my dark shades from my eyes and look towards the blue sky that is completely cloudless.

Isabelle pushes her black-rimmed glasses back up her nose. “You have been married for two weeks. You're telling us that the two of you haven't had s*x?”

It would have been better to just let them think that Dante and I have been doing nothing but each other these past two weeks. It would have kept me from having to tell them that he hadn't been home. It's embarrassing, and I hate the fact that his actions make me feel this way. Dropping my voice to barely above a whisper so that Rocco, hopefully, couldn't overhear the rest of our conversation. “He is never home. There is no way to do that…” I flip my hand around a couple of times in front of me so that they get what I am trying to say without having to actually say it. “...by myself.”

“I mean you can…” Gabby adds, and Mia smacks her on the arm, finally shutting her up.

Our conversation finally shifts away from me to what the other girls have been up to since the bachelorette party. Thankfully. Soon, I find myself relaxing back into the easy flow we all share with one another as the afternoon goes on. We drink and laugh for what feels like hours. It's crazy how much I have really missed in just two weeks in my self-imposed isolation.

I wish I hadn't worried so much about the three of them reacting badly. A shadow descends over the table, and all eyes snap to the owner. Rocco stands just a few inches away from my side, his hands clasped in front.

"I think it might be time for us to leave." His expression is hardened to stone, and through the dark sunglasses it is impossible to look into his eyes.

Our interactions over the past few days have been limited, even though he has been staying in the guest room while Dante wasn't there. We've had small conversations here and there, and Rocco has been nothing but nice to me. Now something about the shift in his demeanor worries me.

I turn my attention back to my friends. Isabella is trying not to blush while peeking up at him through the corner of her eye. Gabby looks like she is on the verge of telling Rocco to shut up and go back to his post. It's Mia who is the one who breaks the growing tension at the table.

"He's right." Her eyes met each of ours for half a second before returning to mine.

With more grumbling from Gabby about having to cut the afternoon short, we finished up paying the tab and grabbing our things. The whole time, Rocco was never more than an arm's length from my side. Our group finally stepped out onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun bouncing off the shop windows and warming the pavement beneath our feet. It's starting to get warmer the closer we get to the summer months.

Isabella and Gabby waved goodbye while Mia looped her arm through mine and started guiding us past a bakery whose sweet smell drifted into the street. Rocco followed a few steps behind us, his boots steady and heavy against the concrete. Small groups of people moved around us, and every time someone came within a foot of Mia and me, Rocco's presence appeared at my back. Shopping bags rustled, loud laughter spilled from a group seated near the fountain.

The crowd began to thin out the longer we walked, and soon it was just the three of us and another smaller group walking on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Mia’s grip tightened on my arm as she leaned closer, her voice dropping low enough so that she wouldn't be overheard.

“So, I have to ask.” Mia started, and my pulse jumped. “Have you spoken to Luca at all since everything happened?”

I glanced at Rocco’s reflection behind us in a storefront window. I shook my head and gave her the short version of events as quietly as I could. Mia nods but pulls her lip between her teeth like she does when she has something to say but doesn't know whether she should or not.

“What is it?” I ask even though I am sure that I am not going to like whatever she has to say.

Mia looks at me. Her large dark brown eyes look worried. Like she is genuinely afraid that by saying it. “Look, we've been friends for a long time now. I don't want what I am about to say to you to come off as insincere. But I think that something is seriously wrong with Luca.”

A pit in the bottom of my stomach opens up at her mention of my ex-fiancé.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” I ask, my hand landing on top of her forearm, pulling her to a stop.

Mia looks over her shoulder back to Rocco, and I can tell that she is more nervous. At this point, I don't care if Rocco can overhear us. Picking at the corner of my thumbnail, I pleaded with her to just tell me what she knows. It has been damn near torture not knowing anything and having no way to make sure that

"He's fine," she says, then sighs. "Well, not exactly fine, but he is alive if that's what you are really asking about." The look on her face does nothing to alleviate my concern. "He has been extremely vocal about what happened and how Mr. Lazzari stole you from him. He is telling the others to watch their backs if they refuse to stand with him."

Well, if I wasn't already on the verge of a panic attack, I would be now. Is he trying to get himself killed? Because that is a sure-fire way to make that happen. My stomach twists. I hated that I couldn't explain this to him. I wish Papa would have done a better job at explaining it to both of us because I am still just as clueless today as to why everything got so turned upside down.

“I know I wasn't Lucas' biggest fan when the two of you were together, but now I think that he might actually be losing his mind. You need to be careful, Blair.”

I open my mouth to argue with her that Luca would never do anything to harm me, only to close it when she gives me a look that she has given me a thousand times before. The one that says that I have blinders on when it came to Luca. That he wasn't as perfect as I always talked him up to be. She just didn't know him the same way that I did. She saw the mobster persona that he crafted to make a name for himself in Langston. She didn't know the real Luca. Not the caring one that saved me the night I was almost kidnapped.

Luca was good deep down. I know he is. I've seen it.

Mia sighs. “Just promise me that you will be careful. That you won't keep trying to reach out to smooth things over with him.”

I turned my attention back to the fountain in the center of the square so that Mia couldn't see the look on my face. So that she can't see the fight happening within me. I know that she is right. That I should leave well enough alone now that I am married.

But I don't think that I can.