Chapter 5

~Does He Make You Feel Like This?~

Eventually, Angela came around the pool and pulled another chair close to mine, sitting so our knees were touching. She grasped my hands, applying a comforting pressure.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm so confused, Ang! I wish I could hate him, but I don't. I should walk away from this, but I don't know if I want to."

"Tell me what happened."

I went over the conversation I had with Tony, how sincere he sounded, and how after I told him it was over, he kept calling her phone until I had to shut it off. "You should probably block unknown callers."

"Hey," she said softly, "is that really what you want?"

"Sounded like you wanted to castrate him, and now you're encouraging it?"

Angela looked thoughtful, gnawing at her bottom lip. "Look, he took a huge chance, reaching out like that. He's desperate, and it didn't sound like a plot that went wrong—it sounded like he was in agony."

I glanced over at the patio. Santo was gone, and Ilona was cleaning up. I stared at the gently rippling water in the pool. My life was a trap, a complex maze with no way out.

"My father wants me to marry Santo. There's no future for me and Tony. Aro would fucking destroy him."

She sighed. "You know I'm here for you, no matter what you decide. Santo would make a great husband and father. He's a good person, not jaded like so many others."

"That's true. I guess I have to give it a chance with Santo." Even as I said the words, my heart shriveled in my chest. Did I think Santo would be a good match? Yes. He seemed unpretentious and caring. But my heart yearned for Tony.

An hour later, Santo drove us home. He dropped Angela off first, then drove to a park a few blocks away.

"Take a walk with me?"

"Sure."

We wandered through the park. It was quiet and peaceful; birds twittering and the crunch of gravel under our feet were the only sounds. We came upon a small stone bridge. Santo leaned on the railing, looking out over the bubbling brook that ran underneath us.

"Bella, you know our parents are hoping we marry. I get it—this life is what it is, and we have certain obligations. Like anyone else, I hope for someone who will love me. I want more than my parents have. I'm a one-woman man. Cheating isn't something I condone." He gazed up at the sky, letting out a short laugh. "I know that's a mafia oxymoron. I know it's acceptable to have a gumar, but it's not the way I roll."

"That's commendable . . . and unusual." I kept my gaze trained on the small fish swimming in the water.

"You're a beautiful woman. I know your heart belongs to someone else right now, but do you want to give this a shot?"

I took his hand and gazed up at him. "Santo, you will make a wonderful husband and father. I want to be honest with you, the way you've been with me. I can't commit to you right now. I'm not saying no, just . . . maybe."

Santo pulled me into a hug. "Thank you for your honesty. Can I take you out? Let's get to know each other better, see where it leads."

"Yeah, I can do that."

Santo took my hand in his, and we walked back to the car. His hand felt good in mine, comforting. There were no sparks, but that might come later.

He pulled up at the gates of my house, and I leaned over to wave at the security camera. Recognizing me, the guard allowed us entrance, and Santo drove up to the front of Aro's mansion. Technically, I lived there, but I've never considered the pretentious mansion my home. For the past seven years, I'd felt like a fraud and a stranger in my own life.

"Do you want me to come in? I'll take the heat for last night."

"No, it's okay. Aro's probably not home anyway, and my mother couldn't give a shit." I stepped out of the car, then leaned on the door, catching his eye. "Thank you—for everything. Really."

Santo smiled and gave me a wink. "I'll call you, and we'll set up an official date."

"That sounds great. Bye, Santo."

He waited until I was inside before leaving.

I was wrong when I thought Aro wasn't home. His large frame overpowered the wingback chair in the parlor, and he was leaning forward, his clasped hands between his knees.

"Dad!"

"Good afternoon, Izzy Marie. Who just dropped you off?"

"Dad, please don't be angry."

"Was it Santiago Lanzo who kept my daughter out overnight?" His dark eyes were trained on me, and I couldn't read his expression.

I felt defensive. "Angela was there. Nothing happened!"

"Was it Santiago?" His tone left no wiggle room.

"Yes, but—"

Aro held his hand up. "It's okay. I just needed to know. You like him, yeah?"

"He's a great guy. We're going to go to dinner, get to know each other, see where it goes."

"Good girl! That's what I want to hear, Izzy Marie! You've made your dad happy."

I didn't correct him. I most definitely did not make my dad happy. My dad was back in Forks, turning in his grave.

oOo

A few days later, Angela and I went out to the gun range on our property to practice shooting. As sexist as the mafia can be, at least our fathers approved of us being able to take care of ourselves. Angela was practically an expert marksman; she could hit center mass or a headshot from all the way back, every time. I wasn't as good, but I managed to hit center mass ninety percent of the time.

"You just shot out your attacker's thyroid!" Angela yelled at me, laughing. Even while laughing, she still hit her next target.

We moved on to the "live" shooting range where women with babies and bad guys with guns would pop out suddenly.

I was "killed" because I hesitated too long when a bad guy jumped out with a gun. Then I ended up killing a mother and toddler because I was too jumpy on the trigger after the bad guy. My score? Sixty. Angela's score? One hundred.

When we got back to the house, Renee was sitting at the breakfast bar, chatting with Mary Lanzo, Santo's mother.

"Hi, girls! How was shooting?"

I shrugged. "Okay. Ang kicked my ass."

My mother grimaced at my language but didn't correct me. Instead, she smiled. "You got flowers, Bella! They're up in your room."

"I did?"

"I didn't want to pry, so I don't know who they're from."

Angela and I raced up to my room. There was a huge vase filled with two dozen red roses. I slipped the card out of the envelope.

"Are they from Santo?"

I read the message, then read it again.

I can't think of anything but you, my princess.

"Fuck me." I handed the card to Angela.

"Definitely from Tony."

"Shit! What am I going to tell Aro?"

Angela pulled out her phone and sent a text. She got an immediate response. "Taken care of."

"Who was that?"

"Santo. If anyone asks, he's the one who sent the flowers."

"Great idea!" I hugged her.

oOo

The next evening, Santo came to the house to pick me up for dinner. He chatted easily with Aro and charmed Renee. Aro mentioned the flowers and winked at him. Santo played it off.

When we were finally settled into his car and driving to the restaurant, Santo side-eyed me. "So, those flowers . . . I'm guessing they were from Masen?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry you had to lie for me."

"It's whatever. I was going to order you some flowers, but that would have looked weird once I knew you already received some. The sentiment was there though."

Santo valeted his car, palming the attendant some money to take extra special care of it. He placed a hand at my lower back as we walked inside.

"Reservation for Lanzo."

The hostess smiled at us, her gaze lingering on Santo. "Welcome back, Mr. Lanzo. Right this way."

She led us to a cozy table by the window. The golden rays of the setting sun segued into deepening pinks and purples.

The conversation, food, and wine flowed. Santo was charming and funny. He told me a little bit about his family's legit and shady businesses, how he went to college to get a business degree, and admitted to busting a few heads when necessary, but he didn't enjoy violence.

"And what about you, Bella? You didn't grow up with Aro, right?"

"Aro got my mom pregnant, and there was some kind of threat, so she married the man who raised me. Charles Swan is the only father I ever knew—until he was murdered when I was fifteen. Not long after the funeral, Aro showed up. He told my mom it was time for me to join the family, said she could join him or stay behind. My mother came too, they got married, and the rest is history."

"Holy shit! This life must be complicated for you."

"It is. Aro keeps pushing to match me up with someone, make an alliance so the families will be stronger. I feel a bit like a pawn in a chess game."

Santo placed his hand over mine. "I'm sorry for all that you've been through. Really sorry you lost your dad."

"Thank you."

After dinner, the waitress cleared the table and asked if we wanted coffee and dessert. We ordered coffees and decided to share a tiramisu. I excused myself to go to the ladies' room.

I touched up my makeup, and as I was leaving the restroom, I noticed a door going to the deck. I stepped out into the cool evening air and leaned on the railing, gazing out at the last vestiges of the day painted across the sky.

"Is he good to you?" Tony's voice came out of the dark behind me.

I whirled around, but I couldn't see him clearly in the murky light. He stepped out of an alcove, walking slowly toward me. His face was solemn.

I glanced around, but we were alone on the deck. "What are you doing here?" I whispered fiercely.

He kept advancing until he was mere inches away from me. He wore a suit, and his hands were tucked into his trouser pockets. I had to look up to see his handsome face because he towered over me.

"I had to see you, princess." He reached a hand out to touch my cheek, and I slapped it away.

"Don't call me that, and don't fucking touch me."

Tony's face was grim, his jaw tight. "Are you with him now? With Lanzo?"

I looked down. "Aro wants me to marry him. We're getting to know each other."

Tony put a finger under my chin, lifting it until our eyes met. "Do you love him?"

"No. I barely know him!"

He took my hand in his gently, stepping back into the shadows and bringing me with him. A thrumming started in my hand, sending pleasant tingles up my arm and causing an ache between my legs. He tugged me closer and ran his nose along my jaw, to nuzzle against my ear. "Does he make you feel like this?"

"No," I whispered, my heart speeding.

He cupped my face, his intense green eyes focused on my lips as he lowered his head. I turned away.

"Please don't. You're making this so hard for me."

"Good—because this is really fucking hard for me too."

It took a great deal of mental strength, but I remained firm. "I have to get back to my date."

Tony caught my hand, bringing it up to his lips. "I'm sorry, princess. I didn't know how else to get in touch with you. We really need to talk."

"Let me think about it." Pulling my hand free from his, I walked back into the restaurant and returned to the table. Coffee and dessert were already waiting.

"Everything okay, Bella?" Santo gazed at me, his face unreadable.

"Yeah. I just needed a little air. I hope I wasn't too long."

"No. As long as you're okay."

"I am. Let's dig into this dessert."

We sipped our coffees and shared the tiramisu. Being with Santo was comfortable and easy, uncomplicated. But there was no spark, no thrumming, no somersaulting stomach. If I wanted comfortable and safe, Santo was the way to go.

After settling the bill, we stood out front, waiting for the valet to bring Santo's car around. A rustling sound came from across the driveway. I looked up in time to see a tall shadow morph into the trees. My heart started racing, and adrenaline shot into my bloodstream.

I realized in that moment I had a decision to make: comfortable and safe or adrenaline and butterflies. Whichever choice I made, I'd have to buckle up for the ride.

~*oOo*~

A/N: Give me your thoughts, guys! I love reading your theories. Some of you think Santo is gay. Not so, lol. There is a fair chance of a Sangela pairing though.

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My new drabble-ish story Animal was featured on The Lemonade Stand Sneak Peek feature on September 24th, teasing the summary, part of a chapter, and the banner. Animal started posting on October 1st and will update on Saturdays. Come check it out!

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