Synopsis
He’s a rock star with deadly secrets.
She’s a mafia princess yearning for freedom.
Nick Tennant, the affable guitar hero of Muse of Darkness, has severed ties with his mobster family a lifetime ago. When he meets dazzling Angela, he knows she’s the only woman he wants by his side for the rest of his life. Too bad her father’s goons want to make sure that’s a very short time.
Angela Silvieri has led a sheltered life. Between boarding schools and her dad’s bodyguards, she’s rarely allowed to venture into the real world. A fundraiser for an honorable cause becomes the perfect ticket out of her gilded prison.
When the bosses of the Irish and the Italian mafia vie to turn their love-at-first-sight story into a tale of murder, Nick and Angela must find a place to hide. How will they manage that if he’s a rockstar?
Can Nick forsake his lifelong dream for a woman he’s just met? Can Angela trust her life into the hands of a man who’s been lying to everyone for years?
One-click this book today to find out.
This reimagining of Romeo & Juliet will make fans of Kylie Scott, Jaine Diamond, and Alexa Padgett swoon. No cheating or cliffhangers.
SNEAK PEEK
Chapter 22 – ANGELA
2022 © Liz Gavin
“Why?” I grunt, not feeling like indulging my dad at all after all he’s done.
Always a laconic man, Vinnie has perfected the art of one-worded responses after a bullet from Larry’s gun splintered his larynx the morning he abducted me. “Irrelevant. Obey your father’s orders. Now.”
With a huff, I turn my back to Vinnie and step out onto the balcony, not caring about what awaits me outside. Spring doesn’t start for another couple of weeks, but the fragrant scent of hyacinths saturates the morning air. I take in the freshness in a deep inhale. But I gasp when I find Nick standing in the garden. The blue, white, and lavender spikes of flowers disappear. My world resumes its right course and I grip the black iron banister with both hands until my knuckles turn white. I have to curb the impulse to jump over the railing and join him.
Reality slaps me in the face when my father’s threats echo in my mind as they have been doing in a loop since last night.
Nick asks, “Did they hurt you?”
Physically, no. Yet I bet he can see on my face how my soul has been battered and crushed. Still, I need to convince him to turn around and run. I have to make him give up.
Finding a wisp of voice, I state, “No, I’m fine. But you have to go now and never come back.”
His stubbornness comes alive as he shakes his head. “Not happening. I’ve told your dad I’m not going anywhere without you. Come with us, love.”
My heart falters and my legs buckle as my body and soul want to run to Nick. But the sight of his outstretched hand sends chilling shivers down my spine. His blood has seeped through the gauze that covers his fingers and palm. The red blotches make my own blood curdle.
There’s so much more than my own selfish happiness at stake here.
In panic, I grab the base of my throat trying to calm my ragged breathing.
I shake my head and deliver the truth that feels like a lie, “It’s over, Nick. I’m marrying Max next week.”
Dead. I feel dead inside as I flee to my room and throw myself on the bed. I scream into the pillow as Nick keeps yelling outside for me to go to him. Every fiber of my being wants to do just that. But I can’t. I shouldn’t. And I’m not going to.
“Calm the fuck down, Nick!” I hear Dave’s stern voice and his next words twist my insides in knots. “Lower your weapons. I can handle my brother.”
“Do it before I blow both your heads up.” Fred’s threat isn’t empty.
Killing Nick would be the perfect revenge for him, and I’d dare say, without repercussions. Hell, my father would probably give him a large end-of-year bonus. I grit my teeth at the thought.
Then, I wail when I hear the scuff of feet against the concrete and the thud of fists against bodies.
“No, Dave! Let me go!” Nick shouts. “Angie!” His voice sounds muffled seconds before a door slams shut, and tires crunch the gravel in the driveway as a car takes off.
As the sound of its engine dies in the distance, I bury my head under the pillow and cry my eyes out until I fall into an exhausted slumber.
* * *
When I wake up, I choose to stay in bed. I roll onto my back and watch the patterns the sunrays draw on the ceiling. I spend hours doing so, trying my damnedest to keep my mind blank. It’s the only way I know to keep the unbearable heartache at bay.
The shadows move around as the sun travels the sky. Their position now suggests it must be afternoon. I turn to lie on my side, with my back to the door, and hug a pillow. Moments later, metal clanks announce someone is unlocking the bolt and turning the key to open the door. I squeeze my eyes shut and the smell of split pea soup makes my stomach roil. A steady diet of anger and despair will do that to a person, even after only a couple of days.
Whoever has brought the food places it on the table.
The mattress dips when the person sits on the bed behind me, and a hand smooths my hair away from my cheek. I know who she is. Her callouses speak of her many years’ dedication to my family. My heart weeps at Laura Friar’s attempt to make me feel better.
She shakes my shoulder, chuckling. “You didn’t fool me when you were two. You’re not fooling me now.” She taps the tip of my nose. “Come on, baby. You haven’t stepped out of this room. You haven’t gone down for any meal. But you need to eat something. So, I’ve brought you your favorite soup.”
When I went to boarding school, Dad promoted Laura from nanny to housekeeper. Her black tunic wraps in the front and a line of silver buttons keep it in place. The capped sleeves and oriental-style collar give it a timeless look. It’s long enough to cover half of her generous thighs. Regardless of the position she holds in the house staff, Laura has always been my biggest ally, my fiercest defender.
I sit upright against the headboard and scan her face. Her skin remains as smooth as it was fifteen years ago. Only a couple of crow’s feet hint at the fact she’s recently turned sixty.
“I haven’t gone down to eat because I’m not allowed out of the room. Ever.” My stomach churns as I remember the exact words my father said to me last night. I repeat them to Laura, “I’m only going to leave this room next Thursday to go to the church.” I swallow a couple of times to get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth. It doesn’t work. “I can’t eat. I get sick just thinking about marrying another man. I love Nick.” I dig my nails into her hands and beg her, “You’ve got to help me, Lala. I’m his and he’s mine. We’ve made our vows in our own terms, but still.” I pause to take a breath before pleading, “Someone needs to make my father understand the situation, convince him to let me go.”
“That person has yet to be born.” Dad’s voice startles both of us.
When Laura motions to stand up, I squeeze her fingers while my expression screams for her to stay. She nods.
I jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, joining my hands as if in prayer. “Dad, please, listen to me. I cannot marry Max. If you really care about me, as you say you do, think about my situation. I don’t love Max. How can I marry him?”
He huffs. “My silly girl, our world is a dark and dangerous place. You think a rock star will keep you safe from my enemies? You need a husband cut from the same cloth as me and your brother.” His expression softens. “I am doing all this for your protection because I won’t be around forever.”
He’s like a broken record. I want to tear at my hair. Instead, I just throw my hands in the air and roll my eyes.
“There’s no way to get through to you, is there?” I groan.
He flicks his wrist, dismissing my outburst. “I didn’t come here to rehash the argument we had yesterday when you returned home.”
“You mean to say I was drugged and dragged here, right?”
His eyebrows meet over his nose. I used to be terrified of this reaction when I was younger. Not so much now.
“Don’t try my patience, Angela.”
He waits for me to acknowledge his demand.
I nod, pressing my lips in a tight line to keep a cheeky remark inside.
He goes on. “I fear your boyfriend might come back or try to contact you in some way.”
I scoff. “How? You’ve confiscated my phone.”
“These Boyles are sneaky fuckers,” he talks over me. “And your performance this morning lacked convincing. Do I need reminding you how serious I am about this whole thing?”
“Not at all.” I laugh, a dry thing that scratches my throat. “You threatening to kill Nick, and his whole family, sounded ominous enough last night. Thank you very much!”
My insolence hits a raw nerve. Dad’s explosive nature flares. He grips my cheeks, burying his nails into my flesh until the sharp pain makes my eyes brim with tears.
I refuse to shed them, or to concede defeat. In fact, I hold my father’s enraged gaze with an arched eyebrow in defiance.
“Watch your mouth when talking to me, young lady. I may change my mind. If you keep pushing your luck, I might decide to make an example out of you.”
Confusion wins over my false poise, and I frown. “What do you mean?”
He sneers. “What did you think happened when word got out that my own daughter had run away? Worse still, that she was fucking the son of our family’s enemy. People began to whisper; they wondered if I was losing control over my own. Many Cosa Nostra members have been vying for my position over the years. I can’t seem weak when I’m getting ready to retire. Before Michael can become the new leader, I have to make sure everyone still fears the Silvieri.” His fingers dig deeper before he swings my head to the left and releases me.
I don’t give him the satisfaction of rubbing the throbbing spots on my cheeks. Instead, I jut my chin up. “Why should I care about all this mafia business? It’s your and Michael’s problem, not mine.”
He steps into my personal space; red spots mark his cheeks as his irate face looms over me.
Dad replies in a menacing whisper, “Because there’s only one way, one thing for me to do to regain the respect of the other members of the Brotherhood. I should call a meeting and give you the whipping of a lifetime in front of them all.” He pauses as if he’s taking a breather. He’s actually scanning my expression for my reactions. I give off none. His eyebrows shoot up. He offers me a cold grin, one that chills my soul. “But the lashes on your skin wouldn’t heal in time.”
“In time for what?” As I enunciate the question, the answer pops up in my mind and I clam up.
My father spells out what I’ve just thought. “In time for the wedding. That would rob your husband of his natural right. The right to his wedding night, to claim your body on that sacred occasion.” I swallow the lump in my throat and try to keep the bile inside my stomach. “So, I’ve decided to give him that little gift. Of course, I had to explain in detail to my allies why I’m not beating the shit out of you. By now, my enemies have been informed as well.” His sarcastic grin evaporates, and his expression darkens. He mutters between gritted teeth, “But make no mistake, my insolent daughter. I can change my mind on a dime.”
I spurt out, “You’re telling me all this why? You seriously expect me to thank you for being such a wonderful father, for putting my interests ahead of your own?”
The back of his hand slaps my cheek with such force that I’m sure his ring will leave an indentation. I giggle, facing him again. It’s so ironic that the symbol of his leadership of the mob would mark my face when I defy him.
He squints his eyes as his nostrils flare. “You deranged little brat. I’m done with your insolence. I’m counting the days until you become Max’s problem. Be thankful I managed to secure a good husband for you despite your sordid affair with that sleazy Bostonian.”
My blood boils. I can take whatever insults he hurls at me, but I draw the line where Nick’s concerned.
“Any of those Bostonians, and I mean the whole Boyle family, is ten times better than any of the Silvieris or Cagliaris.”
He growls, “Do you have a death wish?”
When my dad lunges at me, Laura springs from the bed and steps in front of him, intercepting his attack. “Please, sir. Let me put some sense into her.”
His blue gaze sparkles with rage as he drags it from my face to hers. After a long sigh, he snarls, “Make sure she’s ready for the ceremony in a week’s time. I don’t want to hear a peep from anyone complaining about her until then. Capisce?”
“Capisco,” she murmurs also in Italian.
He sneers at me one last time, over her shoulder, turns around, and leaves the room without closing the door.
All bravado swooshes out of me, and I fall on the bed like a deflated balloon. Laura plops herself on my side, twisting her upper body to welcome me into a comforting embrace.
I don’t have the energy to hug her back, so my arms dangle on my sides and I lean my face on her shoulder.
“What do I do?” I mutter.
Her hand smooths my back as she murmurs, “Mr. Cagliari is such a gorgeous man, child. I’m sure he’ll make you very happy. Give it time and you’ll see I’m right.”
“No. Nick’s the only one who can make me happy. And I can’t have him. I won’t gamble with his life trying to call Dad’s bluff.” I pull away to hold her gaze. “You and I know very well he’s not bluffing. He’ll have Nick and his family killed in the blink of an eye and nobody will touch him. He’s done that, he’s gotten away with murder too many times for me to doubt he means what he says.”
A dark thought pops up in my head, darker than any I’ve had since I came to in Michael’s plane on our way back to the east coast.
But I can’t do it. Can I?
Laura picks up on it. She taps her index finger to the side of my head and scolds, “What’s wrong? What are you plotting in this thick skull of yours, angel?”
The term of endearment slashes my heart as it reminds me of Nick. It’s too much for my own sanity.
“Nothing,” I lie through my teeth.
“Don’t bullshit me. What are you going to do?”
I take a deep inhale and offer her the truth. “I’m not going to do anything.”
For now, at least.
“It still smells like horse manure.”
Despite my pain, I chuckle at her stubborn nature. The sound comes out more like a strangled groan, though.
“No wonder I’ve grown up to be such a determined woman. I take after you.” I smooch her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
Even though death seems more attractive than my future at the moment, I can’t find it in me to go that road. I hug her, praying I stay the course.
* * *
The weather on the next morning matches my mood. Dark clouds hang low in the sky, promising cold and rain ahead.
I drag my eyes from the bleak view and scan the page of the book on my lap. It’s the fourth time I do so without retaining any information. I palm the dry paper of this rare edition of Romeo and Juliet. Despite my love for this story, it was absolutely the worst choice for me to read. I expected to find the solace I always did when I reread it in the past. However, the horrendous fate the star-crossed-lovers meet has many parallels to mine and Nick’s.
Too many for comfort.
I close the leather-bound book, set it on the small round table beside my reading chair, and stretch. A buzz rings in my ears as some of my knotted muscles relax. Unfortunately, the cozy chair didn’t come with magical features that would allow me to turn back time. Or teleport to wherever Nick is right now.
I grit my teeth to brace myself for the onslaught of dark emotions. Without fail, they bubble up in my stomach and rise to my chest. At this point, I’ve given up fighting them. I just waste energy when I try.
So, when my mother walks into my room minutes later, it’s no surprise my foul mood has reached boiling point. And I’m ready to unleash it even without the slightest provocation.
“You’re up. Good.” She gives me a once over, which I endure with a smug expression. She scoffs. “Better still. You’ve lost a couple of pounds. That’ll make the designer’s job a little easier.”
I let her comment about my weight slide and focus on the other. “Designer? You want me to go to that Jean-Pierre guy again?” I jab, fully aware of my mother’s affection for the designer.
Bull’s-eye!
Her perfectly made-up face contorts into a grimace that would have shaken me to my core a couple of years ago. Not anymore. I jut my chin up and watch a crimson wave crawl up her neck and cheeks.
“Thanks to your disrespect, Jean-Pierre has vowed never to deal with anyone in our family.”
That’s so outrageous I drop my jaw and stare at her for a couple of beats.
Shaking my head, I state, “I was kidnapped on my way to his studio.”
She pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut, and heaving. She should get an Academy Award for her dramatic performances. But, then again, I think she truly believes the shit she says. If I weren’t so mad at my mother, I might pity her.
Unfortunately for her, I’m not feeling generous today.
Squaring her shoulders, she drops her arm to her side and grips her waist over the red silk of her knee-length dress. I can’t ignore the stark contrast between her figure-hugging new attire and my loose old velvet caftan.
“Anyway, you’re not going anywhere. Your father bought a wedding dress from a designer I sometimes favor. Her seamstress is coming in about an hour for a fitting.” There she goes again with her scanning of my body from head to toes. “As I said, you’ve lost weight. Whatever you’ve been doing is clearly working. So, keep it up.”
I’m so done with her abuse.
Blood rushes through my veins, buzzing in my ears as I spit out, “You mean puking my guts out every time I think about my dismal future? Or not being able to eat because of the disgust I feel every second of the day?” I pause for a heartbeat to catch my breath. “Sure, I can totally keep doing that. If that makes you feel better, Mom,” I add with venom. “I’ll keep it up until I die of starvation or something like that.”
She recoils as if I’ve slapped her. She quickly recovers her nonchalant demeanor and murmurs, “Be ready when I bring Rita up here.”
Turning on her heels, my mother marches out of the room just as Laura comes in.
My former nanny closes the door, comes to kneel on the carpet beside me, and holds my hands.
The distant expression she has just offered my mom turns excited.
I frown, ordering my heart not to hope.
“I’ve got an idea,” she whispers.
The old ticker somersaults in my chest as I squeeze her fingers. “What is it?”
Nick and Angela’s story is available now here – Nick.
All other books in the Muse of Darkness Series are available now.
