Dear Diary,
I am an asshole.
The end.
I thump the pen against the page, disgusted with myself. I was brutal to her. Deliberately brutal. Ivy deserves to be swept off her feet. Arm in arm with a man who makes her feel fulfilled, content, and breathtakingly—
Happy.
I want her to be happy. Her life should be romantic dinners and roses, with a man who will cherish her to the ends of eternity. Ivy deserves to be loved.
And I don’t.
“Goddammit!” I scream, slamming the worthless journal against the wall, knocking over a small Van Gogh, or Monet, or, whoever the fuck artist it is. Because today is the day I break all Smoke’s shit. A knock sounds at the door. “Fuck off, Enzo.”
A tiny voice calls out. “It’s not Enzo.” I whip around. It’s Trinity. I run a hand through my hair, straightening it. She inches her way into the room, carrying a container in her hands. What’s she doing here? “Enzo’s out.”
“I know. They’re all having dinner.” She hands me a heavy dish. “I thought you might be hungry.”
Tuscan chicken. My favorite. I force a grateful smile and accept it, but I’m too forlorn to eat. “It looks wonderful.”
“Ivy made it. She wanted to try her hand at making a big meal for everyone.” Trini makes herself comfortable. “She didn’t eat much.”
I frown. I know I could make this right. Beg for her forgiveness. Be there for her. Cherish her. Worship her.
Then…what?
It’ll only prolong the inevitable. I can’t—won’t—chain her to me. It doesn’t matter how I feel about her. The thought of losing her wipes the fucking air from my lungs. But Ivy needs a man who…who isn’t cursed. Bad things happen to the people I love. End of story.
“I wanted to thank you,” Trinity continues. “For today. And every day, Leo. I hate being a burden.”
“Whoa—” I set down the food and take both her hands in mine. Like I’ve done since she was a foot shorter and still in braces. “Listen to me, Trinity D’Angelo. Not now nor ever have you been a burden.” She rolls her eyes. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”
“I heard what you said.”
“When?”
“When you thought I was sleeping. All that stuff you said in the hall. To Ivy.”
Shit. I stand there and think hard. What did she hear? Fuck, I wasn’t exactly whispering. She could’ve heard anything. Emotional vomiting at its finest. “I don’t care what you heard, you’re my responsibility to protect. Not a burden.” I look her in the eyes to make sure she hears every word of this. “Protecting you and the rest of the family is a privilege. An honor. A promise that I’ll continue to keep until my dying day.”
“Ugh,” she growls, flustered. “Stop giving up your life for us, Leo.”
I laugh it off. “I’m not.”
“Do you love her?” Trinity asks, her big blue eyes full of pink hearts and cupid arrows.
I start to say no, but the two-letter word dries up in my throat. I’m not even sure why except that it feels like…a lie.
The thing is, I can’t lie to Trini. This, coming from me—the king of bullshit. Trini could always read me. She’s got some Wonder Woman superpower over me. She always has since she was a girl.
I think over the question again. Do I love her?
Fuck, do I?
Nerve-struck, I rub my neck. Is that sweat? And they say I’m an interrogator. Microseconds tick by. The less I say, the more I’m fucked.
Trinity’s smile widens. I half-expect her to tell me she’s picked out a church and has a caterer for the cake. “Can’t answer?” she taunts. “How about this? You’re fired.”
“What?” I scoff, laughing. “Did you just fire me?” My laughter cuts short. Wait. Did she really fire me? Every one of these D’Angelo kids is technically my boss—even Trinity.
“Yup,” she says, giggling. She grabs a pen and waves it about like a magic wand. “You’re free of this life, this house, this world. Free of the D’Angelos. You’re no longer Z., our brave enforcer. You’re just Leo—an average guy on the street.”
“Average?” Really?
“Fine. You’re the above-average gem of a guy on the street.”
Nodding, I approve. “I’m with you so far.”
“You can do anything you want, Leo. So, now what?” she asks.
I shrug. “This is your fairy tale, you tell me.”
Her smile is devilish. “That’s the point, Leo. It’s not my fairy tale. It’s yours. As our father always said, finché c’è vita c’è speranza,” she pronounces beautifully.
I dust off my Italian and give it a shot. “Where there is life, there is…” What is that last word? “Sparrows? Sparkles?”
She smacks my arm. “Hope,” she says, with a lift in her voice. “Where there is life, there is hope.”
I stare blankly. What the hell does that even mean?
“There’s another way of saying it. Where there’s a will—”
“There’s a way.” Geez, this kid’s really got me. I could almost believe it. Ditch the family I vowed to protect, run off with the girl…whisk Ivy away to Paris or Fiji, or even the pristine beaches of North Carolina. Not a care in the world. Just her and me and our toes wiggling in the sand.
For about thirty seconds, it’s a nice dream. Then reality hits me like a Muay Thai kick in the gut. I move to the window and glance up. Ivy’s curtain is drawn closed. To my soul, she may as well have cut off the sun. I sigh. “It doesn’t matter how I feel, Trinity. It’s too late.”
Trinity’s palms caress my cheeks. “You and I both know when it’s too late.”
Between the loss of her father and the loss of my wife, she’s right. She raises onto her tiptoes and plants a small peck on my cheek. “It’s not too late.”
“She probably hates me.”
Trini nods. “Definitely.”
I arch a brow. “Not helpful.” She curls her feet beneath her as she takes a seat, attentive to my every word. “This may come as a shock to you, Trini, but some people consider me an ass.”
“Everyone’s an ass sometimes.”
I mess up her naturally perfect hair as I take a seat on the plush couch opposite her. “You’re not.” I groan and wipe my face with my hands. “No matter what I do, I fuck up over and over again with Ivy. What do I do?”
“How about you try not fucking up?”
I deadpan. Smartass. “I’m sorry as fuck, Trinity. I’d do anything to reverse time and take it back.”
“Why don’t you say this to Ivy? Tell her how you feel.”
“Because I’m an ex-SEAL who works for the mob. Open communication isn’t exactly my strong suit.” I lean into her, elbows on my knees. “Can you keep a secret?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Is my last name D’Angelo?”
Good point. “The truth is, I think I’m in love with her. And I’m terrified I’ve lost her for good.”
A pillow flies in my face. I take the hit and Trinity squeals. “I knew it. You’re in love.” She bops the pillow square in my goofy grin again. “Now, what are you going to do about it?”
I shrug. “Flowers?”
She shrugs back. “Meh.”
“Candy?”
“Seriously? Our pantry rivals Dylan’s Candy Bar.”
I puff air into my cheeks. She’s got a point.
“Sounds like what you need is a grand gesture.”
I twist my face, confused. “A what?”