56

Cara
I stand outside in the gardens. Bees flit from flower to flower and the sun feels good on my skin. I’m in shorts and a t-shirt, nothing special, my hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, just me and myself. I came out here to get some privacy, and I actually feel like I have some space alone even though Alonzo’s lurking nearby. The house is usually filled with staff and soldiers and captains-although I have no clue what half of them are doing at any given time. The smell of the grass, the taste of crisp fall on the breeze, it reminds me of home, and I can forget about where I am for a while.
I miss Philadelphia. I don’t miss my parents or the house I shared with Christopher, but I miss the streets, the old buildings, the sense of belonging. I knew Philly, knew the alleys, the restaurant, the bars.
I knew the people. They were my people.
Here though, I’m a stranger. Chicago’s foreign, Chicago’s like another world, and I feel so disconnected from the city out here on the grounds of the Khazan mansion, tucked away in my own little paradise. Sometimes, I forget I’m in a city at all.
I come around a bend and slow to a stop. Ahead, someone’s kneeling on the ground, digging in the dirt and pulling weeds. I watch for a second, thinking it’s a member of the gardening staff, until she sits up and wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist.
It’s Sophia. She’s in jeans and a light blue top with a bandana over her hair and gloves on her hands. I’ve never seen her in anything but couture before, and this is almost surreal, watching her work in the dirt. Eros made it sound like Sophia would never be caught dead getting her hands dirty.
“Are you going to stand there and watch me all day?” She glances over, shading her eyes against the sunlight. “Or are you going to run off now?”
Normally, I’d turn and walk away as fast as I can. I’ve come across Sophia in the house a few times over the last weeks, and I always hurry away when she tries to engage me. Eros made it clear that Sophia and her mother aren’t to be messed with, and the memory of that first dinner is still fresh in my head.
But for some reason, I stick around. Maybe it’s the streak of mud under her eye or how small she looks kneeling in the grass, but she doesn’t terrify me. Not right now at least.
“I didn’t know you were into gardening.” I walk toward her slowly.
She gets to her feet, takes off her gloves, and wipes her hands on her thighs. “It’s cathartic. Normally, only Aunt Dimitra comes out here, but I guess you’ve ruined even the gardens for me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” I stop my apology with a sharp breath. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry.”
Sophia’s eyebrows arch. “You should be.”
“I’m still not.” I step forward, but not before glancing back to make sure Alonzo’s nearby. He’s at a polite distance but watching. Apparently, I’m still a coward at heart. “I live here too, you know.”
Sophia lets out a little laugh. “Oh, I’m very aware. As much as I’d love to forget you exist, it has been exceedingly hard.”
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“Aside from the fact that you married my cousin, the man I despise most in this world, you’re also the ex-wife of an Italian Capo. You’re the enemy. Are you surprised I feel this way?”
I shake my head. “I’m not the enemy. I hate those people.”
“Good for you. Unfortunately, you are what you are, and nothing can change it.”
“You put Hector and Zale up to that little kidnapping scheme, didn’t you?” The words rush out before I can stop them. “You’ve been trying to convince the other captains that I’m a problem since the moment I showed up here, and they’re the ones that bought in, didn’t you?”
Sophia checks her nails. Despite looking like a farmer’s daughter, her French tips are immaculate. “I plead the fifth,” she says, smile telling me everything I need to know.
“It won’t work. Eros won’t let you get away with it. And you know what? No matter what you do, I’m not going back, because nothing will be worse than what I went through with my ex-husband.”
She tilts her head curiously. “It was that bad, wasn’t it? Bad enough to put up with all this?”
I hesitate, not sure how to interpret that. There’s a hint of humanity in her tone, the barest suggestion of pity, but I don’t want that from her. I don’t want it from anyone.
“It was bad enough that I risked my life to run out on him with nothing but the shoes on my feet.” I don’t mention that those were thousand-dollar sneakers. It’s a minor detail. “It was bad enough that when I met your cousin and he offered to protect me, I accepted, because how could a stranger be any worse?”
“Is that how Eros convinced you to marry him?” She laughs quietly to herself. “It seemed rushed, but now I understand. Only I wonder what he’s getting in return. I suppose it’s not something I want to hear about. You are somewhat attractive in that ugly Italian way.”
I flush red. What a bizarre insinuation. “You have it wrong.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “Not that I care.”
I grind my teeth. She’s trying to get a rise out of me on purpose, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier, because it’s working. “We have a lot in common, you know. The men in our lives did everything they could to ruin us.”
“The difference is you married my abuser. What did I do to you?”
“Why are you like this?” I explode, unable to help myself, spreading my hands wide. “Eros told me what happened. He told me about your father, and Dimitra, and Eros’s father, and the whole sick triangle of their twisted relationship, and how Eros’s your half-”
“Enough,” she says sharply, pulling into herself like she’s preparing to spring. “Shut your goddamn mouth. You don’t know anything at all.”
I let out a slow breath. My stupid mouth got me in trouble again and I went too far. And to think I’ve been so good lately. “Can you really blame him for what happened?”
She stares at me for a few seconds, not speaking, composing herself. Her back straightens and her chin lifts. She watches me down her nose, looking hard. Finally, she breaks the tense silence, just as I’m thinking about walking away.
“You want to know the sick thing? When I first heard about what happened to my father, I wasn’t even upset. I thought, great, another dead Khazan. I wasn’t even sad, isn’t that so wrong? It wasn’t until I heard about my brother, and how it all happened, that I got angry, so fucking angry. Now it’s like that anger’s all I have. It’s the only thing keeping the grief back.”
“Is that how your mother feels too?”
“Mother’s a wreck,” Sophia says, shaking her head. “Worse than I am. We know why Eros did it. I even understand, although my mother still claims her husband and her son were both completely innocent. She’s delusional. I know what these men are. But how am I supposed to live here with Eros, in this house, knowing he killed my father? And my brother? How does it change anything, knowing it was a good reason?”
“He’s your half-brother too,” I say, feeling weak and unable to do anything deep in my chest. If Sophia and her mother can’t ever change, if they can’t get past their trauma, what chance do I have? “You could find new family.”
“It doesn’t matter. What does that change?” She shakes her head bitterly. “I think on some level, I would’ve done the same thing if I were in Eros’s position. After his father, after finding out the truth, it’s hard for a man like him to turn his back and ignore what happened. But how does that help?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, wishing I had something I could tell her. “I really don’t know what’s going to fix things. If anything can be fixed. All I know is, this family is going to rip itself apart. Revenge keeps on piling up.”
“I guess that matters to you now, Mrs. Khazan.”
“I guess it does.” I stare at Sophia, trying to keep my composure. “I’m not going to ask you to forgive Eros. I know you never will. But I will ask you to stop scheming against him. If you care at all about this family, you’ll walk away.”
“Walk away?” Her expression sours like I’ve gone insane. “Do you know what you’re even asking me?”
“Leave the mansion. You and your mother.”
Like that, her softness dissipates, and all that’s left is the burning rage. “How dare you,” she says through her teeth. “You usurping bitch. You’re nothing to this family. How dare you come to me and ask me to leave my home?”
“Staying is just going to turn you bitter and deranged. Trust me, if anyone knows, it’s me. If I hadn’t left Christopher, I’d be dead now. I’d be a husk of a person. I spent all my time either terrified of him or dreaming of how I’d hurt him back, and in the end, the only smart thing I ever did was run.”
“Look at you now. You moved up, didn’t you? From a capo to a lord.” She sneers and shakes her head. “For a second there, I thought you might be different. But you’re as conniving as I am, aren’t you?”
“Sophia,” I say, feeling this conversation getting away from me and wishing I could pull it back in, but she’s already turning and walking off, her gardening tools forgotten in the dirt. I wish she could see how sincere I really am, how much better her life would be if she could put distance between her and the tragedies that define her. She’s still young, she still has a chance.
But this place is draining her, and I don’t think she’ll ever get away from its clutches. Just like me.