Page 14 of The Worst Pucking Deal

During the years, I’ve made sure to clean it at least once a month so it’s fresh. Why? It’s a good fucking question. But I guess it’s because I knew that if the head of my family ever called upon me, I’d have no choice but to wear it.

Zipping up the dress I’m expected to wear, I’m relieved to see it still fits. Although it’s more snug than it was almost ten years ago, the zipper glides up the side easily enough, so I count that as a win. Ugh, I hate having to wear this, but the tradition is important. And I can’t afford any blunders.

While looking in my mirror, I adjust the halter neck and the belt so the white she-wolf’s head isn’t crooked. The skirt reaches me mid-thigh, making it shorter than I like for a family meeting. But then again, this isn’t really a family gathering. We may share blood, but it’s still the head of the family calling upon one of his subordinates. Me.

After towel-drying my long red hair, I braid a few random locks across my scalp. Then I brush it all back, leaving my shoulders free. I tilt my head to the side, narrowing my eyes as I try to imagine what I’ll look like to Remus. The only thing I’m not happy about is my bangs. They’re too long, but my busy work schedule hasn’t allowed any time off to make an appointment with my hairdresser. If only my cousin had given me more notice. Then again, maybe it’s better that he didn’t. This way there’s less time for me to stress and get lost in my head about it.

My makeup is the last thing I do, and I keep it in nude and light nuances. While I apply my mascara, I keep having to tell myself to breathe. My head is swimming with thoughts, and my heart is thundering in my chest. My breathing flits between being labored or… well, I hold it.

“Calm the fuck down,” I hiss at my reflection. “Don’t let him see your nerves.”

After that pep-talk, I reach for the charm bracelet with wolves dangling from it. It was delivered yesterday, so I assume Remus wants me to wear it. Then I sit down on the bed and put my black pumps on, meanwhile reciting facts about my family.

Bravery, loyalty, respect, and authority.

Discipline shows strength.

A wolf never attacks alone, it knows it’s stronger in a pack.

Senatus Populusque Romanus.

Fuck… okay… I can do this.

Before I can change my mind, I quickly gather my things and rush out of the apartment I share with Gail and into my beaten down Honda Civic. It’s not as luxurious as the cars I used to have access to before I bargained my way to freedom, but it’s mine. I bought it from a shady-looking guy who probably scammed me, and, too blinded by the prospect of my first big purchase, I happily let him. Though I could afford a newer or better car now, I’m too emotionally attached to the deathtrap.

During the drive, I again try my best to think up things to tell Remus. Or rather, reasons he needs to let me stay and continue my life. I like the life I’ve built for myself. It’s not much, but I like it this way because everything I have is mine, untainted by my sordid family. But I already know he didn’t make his way all the way from Rome to Minneapolis, Minnesota, to grant me my freedom.

Reaching the restaurant, I’m met by a valet that greets me with the words, “Senatus Populusque Romanus” before bowing deeply. I don’t know why I didn’t expect that Remus had bought and infiltrated the restaurant with his men, but I should have. Because of-fucking-course he has made himself a foothold in my world.

As I walk into the upscale restaurant where my cousin wants to meet me, I feel at least one presence at my back, silently moving closer. “Lucia Russo.” Spinning around, I come face-to-face with a handful of guards, and I immediately recognize one of them. I open my mouth to say hi, but close it again when he discreetly shakes his head and averts his gaze. Right. We don’t greet the guards. Shit, maybe I should have spent more time actually practicing for Remus instead of constantly pushing it out of my mind.

The guards lead me through the restaurant, shielding me from the people eating there. During the walk, I unbutton my black coat and throw it over my arm. It does nothing to cool me down. I still feel like I’m overheating as sweat trickles down my spine. My fucking cousin. Why couldn’t we just meet at a burger van or… I struggle to come up with other ideas because it’s not like they matter. We’re here, and I have a part to play.

When we finally come to a stop, the guard next to me knocks once on the door, which is opened from the inside by yet another member of my cousin’s entourage. I hesitate for a moment, doing my best to ignore my brain that’s screaming at me to get out of here, to flee. I guess this is a byproduct of being away from the fold for so long I no longer feel safe in the presence of my family.

After handing my coat to the guard, I turn around, ready to face my cousin. “Ahh, Lucia,” he croons, stepping out of the shadows where I already knew he was standing.

Remus looks exactly like he did the last time I saw him, at my uncle’s, his dad’s, funeral. His dark eyes are intense, his hair slicked back, and there’s a five o’clock shadow covering the hard lines of his jaw. Of course, he’s dressed impeccably in a suit that probably cost more than everything on the menu combined. He oozes power, it radiates off him in a way that’s almost suffocating.

I’ve known him all his life, which to me means that when you take away all the pomp and circumstance, he’s still the same little boy I babysat in what feels like a different lifetime. If I’m being completely honest with myself, none of that shit is true. It’s just what I have to tell myself to remain undaunted by his mere presence.

“Remus,” I say, bowing deeply while placing my hand on the family saying and crest that’s burned into my skin. I hate having to do it, but since he’s now the Don of the Russo Mafia and our family, I can’t completely ignore tradition. No matter how much I want to, it’s too deeply ingrained in me. “It’s good to see you.”

To my surprise, he throws his head back and lets out a booming laugh. “Fuck off,” he hiccups through his laughter. “Seriously, Luce. I’m glad you’re not an actress because I would have to do some serious bribing to get you a job.” While I debate whether to be offended by the insult or happy my cousin is still himself, he pulls me in for a tight hug that I eagerly return.

The embrace we share feels almost symbolic. With a sigh, I pull back. “Aren’t you going to wine and dine me?” I ask, pointedly, looking at the table.

He chuckles. “How could I forget that the way to your heart is through your stomach? Sure, let’s eat before we get down to why I’m here.” The reminder that this isn’t merely a family reunion isn’t a welcome one.

One of the guards pulls my seat out for me, and I daintily sit down, even allowing him to push the chair in under me. I haven’t missed this. Not one bit. “Why don’t you just tell me why I’m here?” I ask, reaching for the water the guard poured before becoming one with the wall. “You know I don’t like waiting around.”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “I’ve missed you, Luce. We all have.” I grit my teeth, stopping myself from making a snarky comment about how I haven’t missed them. It wouldn’t go down well. Besides, it’s a lie. I have missed some of them, actually. Just not enough to go back to a place that was never more than a gilded cage. “Tell me about your life here,” he insists, breaking the silence that spread between us when I didn’t return the sentiment.

“There’s not much to tell,” I say, blowing my bangs out of my eyes. “You already know everything, Remus. We both know it, so why pretend differently?”

Annoyance makes his smile disappear. “Reports only give me the facts. It doesn’t tell me what it’s like for you. So why don’t you humor me?” Even though he phrases it like a question, I know it’s not a request, it’s a demand.

“What is it you want to know? I graduated, I found a job, and I make my own money. I haven’t touched the family funds since I graduated. My job is…” Trailing off, I try to decide on the best way to describe how much I love my job. “It’s challenging and unpredictable. No two days are the same, and I love that about it.”

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