Bellissimo Lotta (Beautiful Struggle): Companion Novel to Bellissimo Fortuna (The Family Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

As we all go to lunch and I keep feeling for the pendant the guilt takes over me as I let Dakota’s arms drape my shoulders and pull me close.

“So proud of you, Bianca.”

“Thank you.”

“God, I love you. Please tell me you’re ready to come back to me.”

“I love you, Dakota. I’m trying.” It’s not a lie. I love him. I’m trying to figure out if I can go back to him or if it’s time I fly solo. It still feels wrong to hold the pendant nestled next to my heart that one man gave me while allowing another to love me.

We must be our own before we can be another’s.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 20

Dakota

Her ‘I love you’ makes my heart expand until I feel it will break through my chest. I just want another word from her.
Yes
. I crave that word from her, and I’ll get it one day. Waiting for her is killing me. I want her next to me day in and day out; I want to kiss her goodnight as I tuck her to my side. I want to brush the hair off her face in her sleep. I want to kiss her lips, her shoulder, and every inch of her body whenever the urge hits me. She’s my grounding force. All the fucked up stuff I see in the world through my job is erased with just one glance at her. I want to be the reason she smiles, not cries. Mistakes are a bitch, once made they aren’t easily erased in the heart or mind. I made the worst mistake of all. I set out to enact a form of revenge . . . it was carried out on the wrong parties, and I still bleed from it.

I need to keep reminding her of the good, obliterate the bad. I’ve passed the point of hoping she’ll come back to me and have gotten to the point of good, old fashioned, drop to my knees prayer. She doesn’t see herself as everyone else does . . . her purity, her humor, her ability to put everyone else’s needs in front of her own. She sees the doubts, feels the pain . . . I want to be the one to make her realize who she is and when I slept with Anna I fed into her doubts, made her believe she was less. That is my burden, and I wish she’d give it to me instead of carrying it herself.

“Any ideas what you’re gonna do?”

She shrugs. “I think look for a job in Tampa.”

“Why not Miami? You’ll be close to all of us.” Callie and Bronson wasted no time and are moving to Miami as a family. As they should. “Bronson is going to start working on getting your mom to move. I’m sure it’d be easier for her if you agreed to it.”

She flinches and I realize I just laid a guilt trip on her. “I don’t know Dakota. She can move if she wants, I’ll talk to her. I’ll be fine.”

“I want you better than fine, Bianca. I want you happy. I want to give that to you.”

“Stop. Don’t do this today. Give me some time to enjoy today. I’m getting there; I’m trying to find my happiness, within myself before I give that to anyone else.” She didn’t have to say the words that lingered. She needed to build up the walls. Get her defenses firmly in place, so when I get her back, it will be with boundaries. I was determined though; I’d break those limits, just like I did last time. When it was all over, she’d be mine.

All of her.

And she’d have all of me.

I see her tug the chain against her neck, and I reach up and remove it from under her collar. I read the words and feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. Today was something she had worked so hard for, and he wasn’t here. Just like he wasn’t going to be there to walk her down the aisle at her wedding, he wasn’t here to see Angelo, and wouldn’t be here to see her children. She refused to burden anyone with the turmoil she was struggling with. She’s smiling in spite of her pain, typical Bianca. “Fuck, baby, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure everyone is dealing with it in their own way.” She looks at her family, and I feel that loss for her. Everyone was torn up in losing him, but none of them took the time to think of how it was affecting her. She was there for everyone, and nobody was there for her . . . including me.

“It’s not fine. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so tired of saying that to you. I shouldn’t constantly be doing shit I have to apologize for.” I take a deep breath and grab her hand. “You have to know how fucking proud he would be of you. He
is
, he’s watching you. Just like I told you that night, you’re surrounded by his love. You were his baby girl, his Princess.” She wipes a lone tear from her cheek.

Leaning up, she presses a kiss to my neck. “Thank you.” She disappears towards the bathroom, and I walk over to the rest of the crew.

“Bronson, you need to do something for Bianca.” His face is confused as he raises his eyebrow at me. “We don’t see it. We don’t look beneath the surface, but today is hard for her. She has a fucking pendant with a message for your dad inscribed on it. She’s wearing it today, to help her get through it.”

Gianna lowers her head and squeezes her eyes. “Sometimes I forget she’s vulnerable. She hides it.”

“Fuck,” Bronson whispers.

Callie takes Angelo from his arms, “Go. Just take her and you two go. Make it count, Bronson. Give her what he would have.” She passes Angelo to Gianna. “You,” she points to me, “are taking me somewhere so we can chat.” I don’t bother to argue with her, guessing she’s gotten the sordid tale of what I did. Time to take it like a man, and Callie is going to hand me my balls.

“Let’s go.” We all leave while Bronson stays back waiting for Bianca. I may not have gotten her that pendant, but I’m giving her something else; something invaluable. I hope she realizes what a gift she is.

Callie gets in my car. “Find somewhere where we won’t be disturbed.” The bite in her words leaves me with no argument, and strangely I’m looking forward to this smack down. One, I deserve it, and two, I may get some insight into where Bianca stands.

I end up parked in the lot of the football stadium, and with the heat, she opts for the outside. I turn the car off and meet her at the front. She doesn’t lean against the hood like I do; she launches into her tirade without preamble. “How could you? I was one of your biggest supporters. From the time she saw you, I knew it was more than she alluded to. I pushed her, forced her to open her mind up to a relationship. She fought me tooth and nail, and I still held firm. Then you break up with her . . . with good reason. I actually thought you were noble, and I saw how bad that hurt you. You refused to put her in a situation that would cause her pain. Finally . . . you have it all in front of you, the love you fought for, the love you stole from her, you threw it back in her face by fucking someone else. God, Dakota what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I see she told you most of the story. Do you want to hear the rest? I’m not offering it up as an excuse, I don’t have one of those.”

“Oh, this is going to be good.” I feel my temper getting the best of me. I know how I handled it wasn’t the best, but the news I got that day still fucked me up.

“Bronson doesn’t know, Callie. So if I tell you, it stays here. Me, Bianca, and the agency know. That’s it.” I see her eyes widen, and she takes in the gravity of the situation.

“Okay, but if it comes down to me having to tell him, I will.” I nod at her. I know who her choice would be.

“You were there for the beginning. The struggle, the fight I had on my hands getting her just to fucking admit we were in a relationship.” I see her smile, so I continue. “That was okay with me, I knew what I had, and I wasn’t willing to let it go. I see her like no one else does. I wanted her to see what I fell in love with, so I was patient. I’ll admit at the start I thought it was going to be fun, but soon she knocked me on my ass. I cared more about her happiness than my friendship with Bronson. I was skirting a line, where I was going to be the only loser if it blew up, but I didn’t care. Once I brought down her walls, I didn’t stop and think. I was so at peace, so ecstatic that she was mine. I let it all cloud my judgment and lived in denial. I wasn’t willing to give up my dream and that may have made me selfish, but I had a reason for my carefully laid plans. I knew I would be in direct conflict with her father and his affiliates, so I gave her up. It killed me; I wavered in my decision so many times. Every time I started to cave, I remembered Dana. The blue tarp they placed over her in my fucking driveway, the wails from my family as they carried her off to the morgue. I had to give her back something after everything she gave me. Fucked up on drugs or not, she loved me, and I knew it everyday.” I don’t know if I can tell her the rest. It’s still so raw because I don’t deal with it. Time has passed, but it sure hasn’t eased the sting of betrayal that was heaped upon me.

“Dakota, good people get mixed up in bad things. You don’t have to defend her to me. I know if she had a place in your heart she was an amazing woman.”

“Not so much.” Admitting that to her slices me. The pedestal I’ve placed her on for so long is crumbling bit by bit every day. I want to honor her memory, remember the good she did, but the lies and pain are chipping at that podium, weakening the structure. “When Joseph was murdered, my main focus was holding Bianca together, giving her support and letting her work through her grief. She never did. She buried it. Focused on you being gone. Bronson self-destructing. Her school. Her mom. Every thing but the crux of it. Her pain. They had their own issues, she refused to talk about them but she struggled with his choices. He was honest with her, answered her questions, took her resentment and he understood it. Never faltered in his love for her. I had to remind her of that. If not, she wouldn’t have survived. She was still dating other people. I was done waiting. Not to sound callous, but with him gone there was nothing stopping us from being together. I wasn’t in conflict with him, wouldn’t be in a place to make a choice that would destroy her. I went to her. Laid it all out, and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I was so fucking sure I was the man for her, could offer her the world and give her the future she deserved. I knew then and still believe that nobody can love her as much as I do. She had to go to class, so I went back to the condo. Before the shit went down with your dad I called in a favor. I wanted the case file on Dana’s murder. I had it with me at the condo. I didn’t know it at the time, I had no clue what I was opening or I would have waited until she was next to me.”

“I have a feeling this is going to get worse,” Callie whispers.

“You have no idea.” She moves next to me and grabs my hand, gives it a squeeze. “I opened up that file and nothing has made sense since. I knew Dana was strung out on drugs; I was never in denial of that. What I didn’t know was that she was my mom. She gave birth to me, but the people who raised me were my grandparents. She was messed up in the Agosto crime family somehow and . . .” I can’t tell her the rest. She’s been through enough. She has enough of the information.

“What else? There’s enough in this story to keep you in therapy for a lifetime, but you’re hiding something.”

“Her supplier was your dad. Her hit ordered by the family, more than likely your father. At first I blamed Joseph, he was the boss. But in hindsight, there’s enough blame for everyone.”

“Oh, fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hugs me.

“Callie, you had nothing to do with it. Just like I didn’t. Just like Bianca or Bronson didn’t. Our parents all made choices, those tumbled down and wrapped us so deep in their vices we didn’t have a chance to escape. We’ve all gotten caught in the crosshairs and fucked up a lot of important things. You and Bronson, you untangled yourselves from those webs. I’m trying.”

“What happened when you read all that?”

“It wasn’t pretty. Think about Bronson a few months ago, full of blame and anger. I grabbed a bottle of scotch. I read it over and over. The words ran together, the entire fucking universe blurred. I focused on one name. Agosto. For the first time in my life, I felt undiluted hate. Pure rage. At who, I still don’t know. I made it back to her dorms. Funny thing is as much as I blamed her in my mind, wanted to enact vengeance on her, I just wanted to get to her and have her heal me. I was conflicted, bound up in my own truth. She wasn’t there. Her roommate was. I don’t know how I thought that was a good idea. I knew the aftermath was going to be bad . . . that we’d all feel it deep, but I didn’t give a fuck. Or I gave too many fucks, I still don’t know. I just know I was full of blame, bitterness, and loss. I felt my whole life was a lie and didn’t process. She walked in, and I saw her break in front of me. She didn’t fight me, she didn’t spout off in Italian. She watched what I was doing, screamed in agony, and ran from the room. That scream still resonates in my head, when I close my eyes every night, I feel that, and I know I caused it. I went to her, tried to explain it to her, but it was too late.”

“Never too late. Some wrongs take longer to make right.”

“Could you forgive Bronson?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think I could, but what you did . . . that strips something from us. Something down deep inside of us.”

Just what I was afraid of. “The most fucked up part is if I had just waited for her, she would have let me release all my hate and confusion, never judging me. She would have listened as I trashed her dad, blamed her, hated my family . . . then when it was out of my system she would have taken me in her arms and erased it all.”

“Yes, because you are you and she is who she is. Y’all worked against all obstacles.”

“Not making me feel better.”

“I don’t need to make you feel better. I’m need to figure out how to help her. And you. I blame you. But I also sympathize with you because I’ve been in the situation where everything is taken from you, and you don’t know what decision to make. Sometimes we make the right one, and other times we screw things up. Have you worked through this?”