Present
I stare up at the structure in front of me. The same building I grew up in, the place that I took my first steps in right alongside Finn. The house that was never a home. Mansion might be a more accurate description.
It’s been ten years since I’ve stepped foot on this property, and the only reason I’m here now is because my pain in the ass brother has been asking me to come by for the last few weeks. I’ve been back in the city for two months, and I saw him regularly, up until this week when all I’ve done is hide away ever since I saw Marco at the hospital.
The door opening catches my attention and I flick my gaze over to find Kian, my brother’s best friend and right-hand man, smirking at me. He hasn’t changed much in the years I’ve been gone. Any other woman looking up at him who didn’t know him would probably be fucking terrified since he stands at around 6’5 and is built like a linebacker. His dark hair and almost black eyes make him look that much more threatening. Too bad for him, I know he’s nothing but a damn teddy bear underneath it all.
“Planning on coming inside, princess?”
I roll my eyes as I stroll past him and into the foyer.
“He’s in the office,” he calls out from behind me. I head towards what used to be my father’s office, not bothering to stop and look around to see the changes that have been made in the last ten years. I don’t want to be here, so I’m hoping to see Finn then get the hell out of here as quickly as possible.
I don’t bother knocking on the office door before entering, knowing Finn wouldn’t have any business happening since he knew I was coming.
I find him sitting behind the mahogany desk, frowning at whatever it is he’s looking at on his computer before his head snaps up and he grins at me.
“Sister.” He beams, and I roll my eyes.
“You got me here, are you happy?”
“Goddamn delighted. Why the fuck have you been avoiding me?”
Ah, so he noticed I kinda checked out this week, then.
I pop a shoulder in what I hope appears like a careless shrug as we stare each other down.
We’re twins and share a lot of the same facial characteristics. We’re both blonde with blue eyes, both from our mother, but he got our fathers’ nose and I got his temper. Where I’m quick to fly off the handle, he’s the calm and collected one, just like our mother was. Not sure how the fuck that works when he’s the head of one of the biggest crime syndicates in the city, but whatever.
I don’t know what it is that gives me away, but realization flashes behind his eyes before he gives me a pitying smile.
“You saw him,” he states.
“Yup. He was visiting at the hospital and cornered me in the restroom, asking me to speak to him some time. Though I don’t know what the fuck he thinks we have to talk about. That shit ended ten years ago and is better left in the past.”
He lets out a sigh and clears his throat. “Why don’t you just talk to him and see what he wants?”
“What the fuck? Why would I want to do that?” I ask. He was adamant back then that our relationship would destroy all of us, he even made me promise not to tell Marco that he knew about us.
“Maybe you should hear what he has to say, then he might leave you alone,” he mutters with a shrug, but I do nothing but blink at him.
Is my brother seriously siding with Marco fucking Romano right now? What in the goddamn hell is happening?
“Enough about my love life, what about yours? Seeing anyone lately?” I ask, knowing it’s the best way to change the subject. I grin internally when he glares at me and glances towards the open door.
“You know we don’t talk about that.”
Yeah, I do. Talking about his love life is strictly off limits.
He sighs and stands from his chair, rounding the desk until he stops in front of me and pulls me from my seat. My brother wraps his arms around me, squeezing me in a tight hug.
“I missed the hell out of you, sis,” he whispers against my hair. I blink back tears as his comfortable presence washes over me.
“I missed you, too,” I croak before pulling back and wiping my face with the back of my hand.
“It’s good to be home,” I mumble. “I know I should have made more of an effort to see you, but I’m thankful that you came to visit me when you could.”
“You’re the most important person in my life, Sloane,” he says and leans back against the desk in front of me. “And I’m glad you’re finally back where you were always meant to be.”
Is it really, though?
I spend a few hours with my brother and he shows me around the house, as though I’d never been there before, even going so far as to show me my old room. The room that hasn’t changed in the slightest since I left ten years ago.
I never regretted not coming back, since I wanted to get away from my father and all that he stood for. I never even went to the funeral, and I’m honestly not even sure how he died, just that it was something to do with business. Finn never gave me the details, and I honestly didn’t care enough to ask.
The only thing I worried about was whether Finn would meet the same fate once he stepped into my father’s position, but he assured me that the dust had settled and that he was safe.
I take in my old room and glance at the nightstand to see a small necklace resting on top of it. The necklace I had discarded on the bed when I left as a last-minute decision, ripping it off before I walked out the door, never wanting to see it again.
I don’t pick it up like I ache to do, I simply back away and close the door.
I don’t need it around, threatening to bring up old memories and painful reminders of who I once was.
I step into the apartment, immediately on high alert when I see the mat in front of the door slightly to the left. Most people wouldn’t notice it, but I grew up being taught to notice every damn thing around me.
I reach into my bag and wrap my hand around the two knives I keep in the side compartment as I wander further into the apartment.
As soon as I see the silhouette of someone lounging on the sofa, I throw one of the knives and it lands beside her hand. A woman, who’s smaller than me with blonde hair and wearing all black, grins at me.
“I missed on purpose, the next one goes through your skull. Who the fuck are you and why are you here?”
“That’s not a very nice welcome,” she says, and I raise a brow, still clutching the other knife as I step further into the room. It isn’t until I see her close up that I realize I know her.
“Izzy?”
“Hey, Sloane, long time no see.” She smirks, and I sigh before plopping down in the seat opposite her.
I met Izzy years ago at some random function our fathers had dragged us to in Chicago and we immediately clicked, both playing the doting daughters, when in reality, we were anything but. After that, we just kind of stuck together whenever we were forced to attend the same events.
“Probably around thirteen years. What the hell are you doing here?”
She stares at me for a moment before letting out a chuckle. “You really didn’t keep up to date, did you? My late father made a deal with Salvatore Romano, marrying me off to Luca in the process.”
Oh shit. My brows jump as I take in that little tidbit of information. Then I remember Marco mentioning Luca being married to a woman called Izzy.
“So why are you here? Did he do something? Do you need help?”
“Oh sweetie, if anyone needs help, it’s him,” she says with a scoff, and I grin at her. I don’t know Luca personally, but from what Marco had told me, I know he’ll definitely be keeping Izzy on her toes, but I know she’ll give him the exact same right back.
“I’m here because Marco is digging around for information on you, and he asked me not to tell Luca. And before you lose your shit, he only wants to know how you’re doing. He’s not looking into anything else, but I’ve already done this shit with one Romano brother, and I’m honestly bored with it. Anyways, I’m here because I wanted to ask you to sort this shit with Marco so that I didn’t have to lie to Luca.”
That’s… a lot of information to process right now.
“What the hell does Marco want with me?”
She stares at me as though I’ve just uttered the most ridiculous words she’s ever heard.
“You, Sloane. He just wants you.”
And with that, she stands, winks at me, and strolls from the apartment like she didn’t just upend my life as I currently know it. Marco can’t want me. That shit was buried years ago. I can still hear those last words he whispered to me echo around my mind and I slouch in the chair and stare up at the ceiling.
Nothing good can come from this, so why is he so hell bent on dragging up the past? Why now? Why?
My mind screams at me as I pull my phone from my pocket and pull up his contact that’s been sitting in my phone for the last week. The contact that I definitely haven’t stared at each night, trying to force myself to delete the number and move on with my life once and for all. I have no control of my fingers as they move across the keyboard, but apparently, they’ve made up their mind for me on whether or not I’d be using the number.
I don’t know why you want to talk, but I don’t think I can right now. Maybe someday.
