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Boss's Vendetta: Dark Mafia Romance

(Sicilian Gods Book 1) Via Mari


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BOSS’S VENDETTA

SICILIAN GODS
VIA MARI
BOOK WORLD INK
CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32

Thank you
Acknowledgments
About Via Mari
Boss’ Vendetta, by Via Mari
Copyright © 2022 Via Mari. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing,
photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from the author. Via Mari retains moral rights as author of this work.
Portions of this work have been previously published. The work, in whole, has not been previously published and is not in the public
domain.
This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters,
places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. This book contains sexual scenes and adult language and may
be considered offensive to some readers.

Cover Design: Malorie Cooper, The Writing Wives


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1

W hen one of our own has been caught in the crossfire of a Larussio crime war, you should be
very fucking afraid. I may not have been there to see the lives of those responsible snuffed
out, but I’m the dark son of a bitch who gave that order because no one messes with my
family or their loved ones.
I burst through the doors of the urgent care with vengeance in my heart. My cousin is holding his
future wife’s hand as the physician takes her vitals and speaks with Giovanni. She’s lucky to be alive
after what those bastards did. My jaw tightens, and I run my hand through my hair with all the pent-up
anger I feel. And if the traitorous cousin who was sworn to protect our family just like Giovanni and
me wasn’t already dead, I’d strangle him with my bare fucking hands.
I stalk toward my family with my heart pounding in my chest. “How is she?”
Giovanni looks like he just got hit by a truck, the shock of almost losing the love of his life and
their unborn child chiseling a look of deadly determination all over his face. “She and the baby will
be okay.” He may be the cool, calm, and collected one of our family, but the rage in his eyes right now
is something I’ve never seen before.
Serena’s physician turns to me, her eyes sharp and accusing, like somehow, I’m responsible for
the mayhem that has erupted in her clinic. “You can’t just burst in here like that. You could cause
either of the ladies to scare as they come into consciousness, and we need to keep Serena calm. She’s
with child.” Dr. Palento turns from us to finish her exam, before wrapping the stethoscope around her
neck. “Serena will be waking up shortly. Anyone who’s not family should vacate the room, so she’s
not overwhelmed. I don’t want her blood pressure any higher than it is.” She gives me another pointed
look, checking to make sure I got the none-too-subtle hint.
Yeah, I got the message, honey. I give her my best fake smile and fall into my most professional
persona because moving in the upper social circles is an expectation these days. A dinner at one of
the city’s most exclusive restaurants, with an expensive as hell bottle of Italy’s finest red is where all
the gun sales, negotiations, bribery and dirty deals are sealed. So, I know how to be a fine upstanding
citizen when necessary. I give the irritating blonde a quick perusal. “I’m family and the godfather to
their child.” I smirk, not missing the raised eyebrows of my cousin since we haven’t even talked
about that, yet.
Dr. Palento purses her pretty little lips. “I guess you can stay, but take care not to scare her.” She
bustles around the table like a mother hen guarding her chicks for a few more minutes and then heads
to the other side of the room to talk with our security guy whose girlfriend was caught in the
crosshairs of it all.
My eyes follow the sway of her ass as she swishes across the room before I turn back to
Giovanni. “Whoa, is she intense.”
He doesn’t answer. He’s watching Serena carefully, and her head starts moving from side to side
as she takes a large gulp of air. “Gio, they’re here...”
We’re both probably thinking the same thing, but Giovanni’s the first to say it. “I want that son of a
bitch dead—now.”
It’s not the time or the place to tell him it’s already been ordered, probably already been carried
out, because there was no way after what they did that any of the fuckers were walking away from this
alive. You take from a Larussio, you kidnap someone that he cares about, and we will put you in the
fucking ground.
I walk over to see for myself that our security team and Serena’s friend are doing well, and then
pace, the rage continuing to build.
The other cousins and Great-Uncle may think that since we found the ladies, our traitorous cousin
is dead, and the scum that he was working for was shanked in his jail cell at my order, everyone will
be safe.
But I know different.
The Larussio Casino and Resort was built on the finest piece of property on the strip, a fuck you
Vegas style to the other families who use the desert playground to line their dirty pockets. Especially
to one family in particular who currently covets the city throne.
They know it, and so do I.
The only one who doesn’t seem to know it is Uncle Carlos. Why he thought he could build
something so magnificent, drive all the high roller action to this club and it not be seen as an overt act
to take over the city is beyond me.
You have to protect your interests twice as hard these days when every other crime family out
there is battling for the same territory or waging war to seize control. Sure, it might have always been
that way, but the families are smaller these days, which means more extended families like cousins,
more divisions, and more rival everything, all fighting for that elusive position at the top.
We might have just out maneuvered these bastards in combat, but the war is far from over and
right around the corner will be another one of far greater proportions because you don’t just waltz
into Vegas and settle into another mafia family’s territory without reprisal.
But yet, that’s exactly what we did.
Serena becomes more distraught as she remembers more and more. I head over to her and
Giovanni, unable to miss her accusation. “Dammit, we were just having girl time, in our own house.
Is this why you make me wear a tracker?” She has tears in her eyes, and my jaw tightens with the
knowledge that it’s always going to be this way for her. As the wife of a mafia boss, she’s always
going to be a target. We were all lucky this time, and every fucking one of us knows it. Because if they
had gotten her to their lair, she would have been sent back to us piece by piece until they got what
they wanted, or we put them in the ground. Giovanni pulls her to his chest as she sobs against him.
Her physician turns away from her other patients, excuses herself, and walks toward us,
glowering at me the entire way. “She’s distraught, why?”
My eyes narrow at the blonde. The fuck do you think? “Well, clearly because some lunatic has
just kidnapped her.”
Dr. Palento glares up at me with flashing blue eyes and tosses her long blonde ponytail before
pushing up the sleeves of the white Henley she’s wearing underneath red scrubs. She raises Serena
into a sitting position and is giving her another once-over when more of our security arrive. Some
heading toward the rest of their team while Antonio, Giovanni’s private guard, walks over to us. He
looks down at Serena’s tear-stricken face. “I am so goddamn sorry. We never realized the gas was
filling the room until it was too late,” Antonio says.
“It’s not your fault. It doesn’t even matter, because time and time again they will come for us and
time and time again the family will outsmart them. The Larussios will always win,” Serena says,
taking me and my cousin by complete surprise as her petite blonde physician glares up at me like I’m
the fucking cause.
This doctor may be hotter than fuck even with her crumply clothes and ponytail, but I’ve had just
about enough of the attitude. “I’d like a word with you in private, Dr. Palento,” I tell her, spinning on
a heel and walking into the hallway.
She doesn’t make me wait. When I turn around, she’s still watching me with those deep-set blue
eyes, her mouth set in a grim line.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but I don’t appreciate the attitude, especially after a night
like tonight.”
Her blue eyes bore into me. “What, every night isn’t like this? Filled with violence and
bloodshed? It sure feels that way lately.”
“Look lady...” I’m about to set her the fuck straight, but Giovanni taps me on the shoulder and
gestures for me to follow him through the door. “We’ll finish this conversation later,” I tell the doctor,
who shrugs at me and swishes her way back to her patients.
The waiting room is empty. No one is filling this urgent care up except the Larussios tonight. He
slumps into a chair in a remote corner of the open concept space, private but where we can see all the
traffic to and from the casino down the long, tiled hall. His dark eyes, so much like my own, are filled
with keen focus. “I’m out.”
My eyebrows raise in question.
“I never wanted to be next in line as don. This shit is your world, Salvatore. Serena and my
unborn child are mine. I won’t put them in danger again, no matter how strong she is. I’ll manage the
casino and all our global enterprises. Then things will be the way they should have always been.
Great-Uncle will want you to step into the role of next in line as don.”
2

T he tension of the last few hours slowly dissipates as the Larussios and the fierce team of
bodyguards wheel their women toward the private set of elevators which will take them all to
their penthouses in the sky.
Damn, that family is intense. And coming face-to-face with the notorious Salvatore Larussio still
has my stomach churning every which way but calm. Every single one of those Larussio men look like
the full-blooded Italian men they no doubt are, right down to their dark hair and deep brown eyes. Not
like me. No one can tell my bloodline by my looks, which is just as well for me. The fewer people
who know about me the better. But those eyes, it’s like Salvatore Larussio could look right through me
and see the deep ugly truth.
It's ridiculous to think he can know anything about me except what I put on that damn application,
but that doesn’t keep the nerves at bay. And what the hell was I thinking, goading him like that? I’ve
heard all the stories about him and his cousins. I’m lucky he didn’t take that pistol sticking out from
under his jacket and shoot me on the spot.
I try to shake off the feeling. He probably couldn’t care less about what some lowly physician
thinks of him, even if I am on the family payroll. I finish closing up shop and head out. I’ve more than
earned a few hours of sleep, and the staff will alert me if anyone comes in needing my services
through the night. The way to my penthouse requires no private elevator, unlike the Larussios who are
all located within close proximity to each other. Which is fine with me, because the farther I am from
those fuckers, the better.
The luxurious linens are cool against my skin as I slide into bed, but sleep does not come as
easily as it should. Instead, images of dark eyes all watching me intently as I work on one of their
loved ones come to mind. And one set in particular. The worst of the worst. The man known in some
circles to be a significant contributor to society, a man whose generosity knows no bounds, while in
some circles is whispered to be the most ruthless of them all—Salvatore Larussio. Shit, he really did
look like he was going to haul me out and shoot me on the spot before his cousin Giovanni diverted
his attention.
I flip onto my side, looking out over the sprawling city, and take in a deep breath, chastising
myself. This is why you came, exactly what you wanted to do, and now that you’re meeting them,
you’re getting nervous. And somehow, I’m going to have to get a handle on the way they make me feel
and how I react to them, especially the panty-melting one who looks like the devil himself.
Goading him and showing my hatred and disdain for him and his family is not the way to get
information or anything I need. It will take time and patience to build their trust, and my runaway big
mouth probably just set me back to square one, if I’m lucky enough to keep my job after today.
Salvatore and his cousins just got into town for Pete’s sake, and this is how I react the first time I
meet him. I punch the goose down pillow with frustration, and the anguish that always seems to flood
my soul when I think about what they’ve done, what they’ve taken from me and my family.
Sleep is clearly not going to come with all this pent-up frustration bubbling inside of me. I slide
out of bed and wrap one of the red cashmere Larussio robes around me, opening the closet door
before sliding onto the floor in front of it. The bag in the corner beckons me to exam it for yet another
time this week. I unzip it and take quick inventory of its contents. It has everything that’s needed for a
speedy getaway if it ever comes to that. Just like the last time I checked and the time before that. I
push it farther into the corner, as if distancing it will help the reason for its existence to disappear.
But it won’t.
Because I won’t let it.
I suck in a deep breath, once again assured that everything is in place should the need for the go
bag arise. But even crawling back into bed and closing my eyes tightly doesn’t dispel the images of
all those dark eyes looking at me, and the one set that drew me to his gaze like a magnet and felt like
he could see right through this charade.
I’m too anxious. Maybe a walk around the casino and some fresh air will help. I shed the robe and
slide into a pair of leggings and t-shirt before slipping into the open-backed tennis shoes that I’ve
come to love. The desert has its advantages. Almost every day we see the glorious sun shining, unlike
other places where people yearn for its warmth. Even at this time of night, in the fall you can go for a
walk without wearing layers and layers. At least until my blood thins out and I acclimate to the
warmth.
The reception area downstairs is fairly quiet as I make my way through it. No one is checking in
or out at midnight, and only a few staff are available behind the striking black marble desk to take
care of anyone who may venture in off the street. The security guards are positioned at each of the
doors, and the older one who’s usually on duty at this time gives me a nod in recognition as I pass him
on my way outside and toward the circular drive to the main street below.
The strip is alive, animated, and lit up with locals and tourists alike, all making their way to and
from their favorite establishments or entertainment of choice for the night. I head past the Aria toward
the Bellagio. I may not do the entire walk to the Strat, but this stretch of the strip is always alive with
action and something new to see. I have to admit, the Larussios couldn’t have picked a more prime
piece of real-estate than where they put up the largest and most expensive resort and casino the town
has to date.
The fountains at the Bellagio are just going off as I walk past. I stop to appreciate the show along
with a throng of other viewers. Every fifteen minutes like clockwork the city is treated to this
magnificent show of brilliant waterworks under a beautiful backdrop of lights. A must see on the
tourist list for sure, but something I’ve learned the locals love just as much.
A crowd is exiting Caesars Palace, no doubt having come from a concert at The Colosseum where
some of the finest talent comes to play. A group of women all dressed up in short skirts and high heels
get into a limo that pulls up along the curb for the boisterous bunch. I smile at the ladies who are
having too much fun to even notice as I pass by. I don’t think I was ever that young or carefree. Okay,
maybe I was that young seven years ago, but I was never the partying type. Most Saturday nights
you’d find me in the library with an iced coffee in hand and my nose in a book. Some things never
change.
By the time I get to Circus Circus, my mind and body are starting to relax. I decide to turn back
before it gets any later since morning is going to come soon for me. And if tonight was any indication,
my urgent care is going to get busier and busier. Giovanni was honest when he hired me; I’ll give him
that. He laid it all out on the line, told me I’d be expected not only to take care of the patrons of the
resort, but to care for his family in the event they should need medical care. But that was before I
knew the notorious Salvatore Larussio was coming to town.
That changes everything.
A long, sleek black limo pulls up to the entrance as I reach The Larussio Resort and Casino.
Three men with dark hair and dark suits walk out the door, surrounded by the same bodyguards I saw
earlier. I lean against one of the decorative palms that line the curved driveway and watch as the men
get in. But one holds back and looks around, his height towering above the limo roof as his eyes scan
his surroundings. I step behind the palm as my heart beats in my chest.
Salvatore Larussio.
No doubt, by the look of their grim faces whatever they’re up to will either land their enemies into
a nearby hospital or one of the illustrious members of the crime family back in my clinic again
tonight.
I suck in a breath.
Patience, and time, and duct tape for my mouth …
That’s what it will take to earn their trust …
3

O ne month later

I WAKE in a cold sweat after the same dream I’ve had for years. The memories of the past rearing their
evil head whenever the Larussio Crime Family business is on my mind, and for the last month every
waking hour is consumed with that and nothing else.
The minute Giovanni made the decision to marry and take over the legitimate sides of the
business, it was clear. As the oldest cousin and closest living relative to Great-Uncle Larussio, I
would become next in line to the kingdom for the most ruthless crime family across the globe, from
Italy to the adult playground of the Vegas desert. He was never cut out for the harsher side of the life.
He knew it and so did I. My sworn duty is now to take over as don for the family when Great-Uncle
passes.
There’s nothing I won’t do for the man who took me, my little brother, and sister in when my
parents were killed. Having lost his own children and wife in a bloody war, that to this day is revered
to be one of the bloodiest battles in Old World Italy, he treated us and Giovanni, whose parents were
taken from him at a young age too, just like his own.
We weren’t the only ones he took care of after death or prison took from our family. He has been a
godfather in every sense of the word to so many of our cousins after the ravages of battle. And every
one of us would lay down our lives for that man, and we may have to put that theory to the test, sooner
than later. There’s another war brewing, and it’s right here in the fucking desert.
You can’t set up shop and stake claim on someone else’s territory without causing an all-out war
between the families. The casino and resort Uncle Carlos decided would be the perfect place to
bankroll and in the public eyes go completely legit is not welcome by the enemies, who have until
now been able to rule this town with little to no competition. Uncle Carlos may have fooled half the
family with that going legit bullshit, but there’s no way he’d pick this particular spot if that were the
case.
He had to know it would be seen as a slight to the enemy.
Everyone knows the best way to clean dirty money is through a business. And while you can do it
with any business if you know what you’re doing, a casino is the best way to clean a whole lot of
filthy money fast.
I’d bet fifty million of the stashes I have tucked away in the Caymans and other areas across the
world that our enemies knew exactly what Uncle Carlos was doing too. Staking claim on the most
exclusive place to be in the largest gaming city in the world and on the most prime piece of real estate
on the strip.
And right in the middle of another crime family’s fucking backyard.
Old man De Rosa is probably busting a nut over the fact that Uncle Carlos built a grand resort,
three times as large as most of the big ones, right in the middle of their territory. He may not have
meant it as a fuck you to the rivals, but I’m pretty sure that’s how they see it.
The De Rosas deserve to have their reign of the city challenged. They run this town with muscle
and fear and do absolutely nothing to help it thrive. The permits to build the place were a little slow
for Uncle Carlos to get, but they weren’t impossible and should have been. The men working for our
rivals should have blocked any chance we had of procuring those permits and obtaining any of the
licenses that were needed. They should have been giving the De Rosas a heads up and play-by-play
of what we were doing. Because that’s what Uncle Carlos or Great-Uncle would have expected to
happen if they were on our payroll, but instead they took our bribes and lined their greedy pockets
with our money and kept their mouths shut until it was too late for the De Rosas to do a thing about us
building the casino and resort.
Men who are loyal to a family don’t do that. Men who have been treated well by a family protect
that family at all costs and are loyal even when they aren’t being observed. The De Rosas treat their
employees just as bad as they treat everyone else. And they’ll get what they deserve.
Uncle Carlos was wise to see that it was time for new blood in this town. The De Rosas know
what we’re doing by now though, and it won’t be long before the brutal family hits back. I can feel it
just as much as I breathe.
While I’ve been in the old country with Great-Uncle this past month meeting with all of the elders
to solidify the transition of power between Giovanni and myself, my brother, cousins, and our
soldiers have been preparing for the ensuing battle. We need to be prepared for an attack and have
been since we set foot in Vegas last month. The protocols are in place for our soldiers, and protection
has been put in place for all of our family around the clock. At times like this, it’s crucial to stick to
all the security rules that have protected us for years. Yet still, every nerve in my body feels on edge,
as though we’re missing something crucial.
Sleep is just not going to come. I crawl out of bed and shrug into a pair of dress pants folded over
an old-fashioned wing-back reading chair and glance out over the vast city beyond. The mountains
usually have a calming effect, but at this time of night, all I can see are miles of twinkling lights
through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The vast city that will soon be the Larussios.
I make my way to the kitchen and push a glass against the ice dispenser and drain the clear cold
liquid in a continued swallow. It’s so fucking dry in Vegas that even my nuts have taken a leave of
absence. Maybe that’s why I passed on the hot-looking brunette dealing cards at one of our high-end
tables. She might have tried to play coy but wasn’t fooling anyone at all, especially me. And normally
I would have taken the voluptuous beauty up on a night in the sack, because why not?
But the novelty of women throwing themselves at the Larussio men, especially me, has worn off.
Not that I didn’t enjoy my fair share for a very long time. Maybe it’s just this damnable dry heat and
the fact that Giovanni has found someone real that’s irritating me. He found the real deal, and he’s
about to marry her and have a family. She loves him, not his money, and isn’t afraid of the dangers in
our world. I couldn’t have found my cousin a better match if I had set out to do that very thing. That
woman has a heart of gold and truly loves him, even knowing exactly who and what we are.
Unlikely that women like that are roaming around the halls of a casino or in darkly lit clubs or at a
dinner with an elite which is where I spend my time more often than not these days, making deals that
will ensure our family’s financial sustainability well into the future.
But it’s not as if anyone will want to settle down with someone as ruthless as me anyway.
Giovanni, yes. He’s got a heart of gold instead of the tainted dark ashes that make up mine. And this
job, being next in line as don of the Larussio Crime Family, is not for the faint at heart. I have to be
the one who gets his hands dirty, the one who calls the hard shots and sees things coming at the family
from the back of my head.
Especially now.
Better that there’s no one to worry about. No special someone to care about. Everyone knows that
rivals go after the boss’s family. They get kidnapped, tortured, or smashed onto the highway, leaving
babies and toddlers in the back seat screaming in fear as they wonder what the fuck just happened to
their world.
I swipe my hand through my hair and pour myself another glass of water to shake the images that
always seem to have a way of wheedling their way into my mind when I think about my parents and
that fateful night. I’ve seen far too much in my lifetime to ever put someone I love in that position.
Besides, who could really ever love someone with a heart as black as mine?
The buzzing of my phone on the nightstand distracts me as I return to the bedroom. I grab it and
scowl, glancing at the time and my cousin’s number lighting up the screen. “It’s three o’clock in the
fucking morning.”
The quiet on the other end of the phone gives me pause. “Dom?”
A heavy sigh assures me my cousin is still there before he starts talking. “Yeah, I’m here, Sal.
Sergio was in a little scuffle.”
I close my eyes. My little brother is always where he shouldn’t be. “What happened? Is he okay?”
Dom pauses; I’m not going to like this at all. “He evaded the soldiers and got into an argument
down on Fremont Street. A biker shoved him out of the way so he could get a closer look at some
hottie on the dance stage. Sergio mouthed off, not knowing there was a whole fucking gang within
earshot. Luckily, I saw him leave the casino and followed him. He was getting pounded. I had to shoot
one to get the fuckers to back down enough to get us out of there.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Fuck.” Needless to say, there wouldn’t have been a way to cut the
bullet out of the prick, so we’ll need to deal with that too. Good thing we have friends in the right
places, all poised to do as we ask, when we ask, if he shows up. But bikers are loyal and fierce, and
they’re not going to leave one of their own to the hands of the police. They’ll cut the bullet out
themselves and deal with their enemy without police interference. This club clearly didn’t know who
Sergio was. They will when the bikers loyal to only the Larussios find them and give them the
message I intend for them to send.
The quiet settles between the two of us. Dom has been like a brother to me for years and knows
exactly what this means. It’s just the beginning of yet another battle, another lesson we’ll need to give
in order to prove our position in the territory.
If we don’t, every rival we have will think we’ve gone weak and leave the Larussio family ripe
for an attempted takeover of our territory, or worse. It’s bad enough Uncle Carlos has unintentionally
put a fuck you sign in the middle of the strip to all our rivals, at the same time Giovanni and Great-
Uncle passed the next in line to don title to me.
The response needs to be swift and deadly to ensure the message gets to each and every one of
our enemies. The switch in leadership roles has been pretty quiet until now, but still. “Damn the
timing.” The night before Giovanni’s wedding.
Dom sighs on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, Sal. There may be blowback, but I didn’t have
a choice. There were at least nine of those big-ass fuckers. Sergio’s going to need stitches as it is. His
arm and stomach got torn up pretty bad. All shallow cuts, but they need to be closed. He’s lucky.”
And so it begins, at three o'clock in the fucking morning, we let the bikers traveling through know,
along with every other fucker out there, that the Larussios are not to be touched, in our city or
anywhere, regardless of who the fuck you are.
I pull on my socks and slide into my shoes. “There won’t be blowback, Dom. When tonight is
over, every club traveling through will know not to fuck with a Larussio. You did the right thing. Get
Sergio back to the resort and to urgent care. I’ll let the staff know to expect you and then deal with the
rest. Text me when you get here. And thank you, Dom.”
“You’re welcome, Sal.”
“Be careful and get here quick.” I hang up and shrug into my shirt while connecting with another
of my cousins who can be just as ruthless as me. No need to wake Great-Uncle when I know what
needs to be done. Renzo answers, groggy and irritated, but as soon as he hears my voice, he knows
his night of sleep is over.
Renzo yawns into the phone. “This can’t be good, Sal. What’s going on?”
The rundown is short and sweet, and he doesn’t ask a lot of questions. “Yes, boss,” is the only
answer I get from Renzo. I smirk at his new name for me. A trustworthy cousin who couldn’t have
been happier when I agreed to take the position of don; he knows better than to have to call me or
Giovanni boss. He and Dom are more like brothers. When I send him and our crew to settle a score
and teach someone a lesson, they know exactly what they need to do. “Renzo, make sure you mark
these fuckers good.”
“We’ve got it covered, boss.”
Renzo and our men will find the fuckers who were present and aren’t already dead, and every
single one of them will wear a bright, bloody capital L cut deep into his chest with a slash across it.
Everyone who sees it or hears about this night will know he fucked with a Larussio and came out on
the losing end.
But this time I won’t be with my cousins, our soldiers, and the motorcycle club loyal to us when
they send that message.
One of the constraints of being next in line to the powerful Larussio throne. Now I will have to
make decisions that protect our family's reputation and position of power and keep the lives of those
in our family protected from harm.
I sure as hell didn’t ask for this job, but I will do it as though every life in my family depends on it
… because it does.
I put on my watch after getting washed up and slip into my suit jacket, adjusting the tie and cuff
links to my shirt. The button on the landline phone allows me to connect with our private concierge.
“How do I let urgent care know that we need a physician?” My cousins may have frequented the place
in the last few weeks during my absence, but I have not. In fact, on the couple trips back for meetings
here in Vegas, I’ve made it a point to steer clear of the blue-eyed blonde who has a blade of steel for
a tongue. It’s enough that the irritating woman has wheedled her way into my dreams. Clearly, I need
to take one of the dance girls up on their offers and get laid, because the good doctor is definitely not
my type.
There’s a slight pause on the other end of the phone. “I’m happy to alert Dr. Palento, but our
normal process is to have the patient assessed by the staff and then they call her to come in if they feel
it’s warranted.”
“What’s your name?” I ask.
An uncomfortable silence ensues while I inspect my Glock before sliding it into my side holster.
“Sally.”
I adjust my tie while talking into the phone. “Well, Sally. The rules have changed now that the
Larussios are in town. When I call for a physician, all I need is an assurance that the good doctor will
be sent right away. Capiche?”
She may not know Italian, but Sally fully understands the meaning of that word. “Yes, sir.”
I intend to hang up and let the young lady off the hook, but the vision of the urgent care physician
who took care of my family almost a month ago and has annoyed the fuck out of me in my dreams,
pops into my mind. The one who had the audacity to glare at me as though I were fully responsible for
what happened, acting like I had no right to be there when my family’s life was in jeopardy.
Surely a little payback is due. “Oh and, Sally, tell Dr. Palento to double-time it down to that
urgent care,” I tell her before hanging up the phone.
A smile crosses my face for the first time all day as I envision the blonde beauty’s fiery blue eyes
lighting up with anger in reaction to that order.

MAYBE IT ’ S NOT SO bad being in charge…


4

I wipe the sweat from my brow and continue to coach Melissa through a hard delivery. Four and a
half hours and still her no-good husband hasn’t sobered up enough to wake up and realize that his
wife went into labor and join her in the resort’s urgent care for the birth of their first child.
It’s a good thing she had the common sense to leave him a note and come down on her own
because even if she refused to go to the hospital without him, at least here she has the support of me
and my nurses. “Try calling him again,” I urge Rachel, one of the registered nurses who’s been at the
center for longer than me and has been my right hand all night long.
The baby is getting close, and this woman deserves to see a familiar face and not just a bunch of
strangers with her when she brings this child into the world. Not like my mom who had no one and
had to hide out while she was pregnant because she wasn’t married. Still a sacrilege in old-world
Italy and something to be deeply ashamed of. My mom might have been shunned by many, but that
didn’t stop her from loving me unconditionally after my father was killed. And she shielded me
protectively, making sure no one, not even me, knew who my father was and how he was murdered.
And it pisses me off something fierce that this man can be present for his child’s birth and chooses
not to be.
Rachel returns to the bedside and takes Melissa’s hand. “I had someone keep calling and security
go in and wake him up. He’s beside himself with worry and on the way down,” she tells Melissa who
has insisted through the night that we not wake him until we need to.
The patient’s contractions start again and this time she’s almost fully dilated. “Get him here and
gowned up quick or he’s going to miss it,” I say to Shelly, who’s already heading out to the reception
area in response to the ringing of the overhead bell alerting us to his hasty arrival.
I shift on my stool to help hold her legs as my patient’s pain reaches its peak and her husband
rushes through the door and to her side. He takes her hand and wipes her brow as her contraction dies
down, but just as quickly they start again.
This is the one. “Get ready and when I say push, I want you to push with everything you’ve got.
Breathe with her,” I tell her husband, who looks on with glassy eyes as I make a small incision from
behind the cover of the sheets so that the small woman doesn’t tear as the baby’s head crowns.
A mere moment later the head can be seen, and with continued encouragement, the laboring
woman bears down. “One more good push,” I urge, and she delivers her new baby girl, who screams
her arrival into the world.
I breathe a sigh of relief watching the tired new mother and her husband look in awe at their little
miracle. As many deliveries as I’ve performed, the experience never ceases to be scary and amazing
at the very same time. And every single time it makes me love my mother even more.
When mom and baby are cleaned up and settled, I let Rachel and Shelly take over and make my
way down the long, tiled hall. The elevator leads me back to the penthouse that came with my contract
at The Larussio Resort and Casino. I enter the code on the keypad outside my door and breathe in a
sigh of relief after a long frickin’ day. I couldn’t ask for nicer accommodations. The high-end suite sits
on top of one of the towers with a vast view of the mountain range during the day, and by night, all the
twinkling lights of Vegas for as far as the eye can see.
The luxurious bed is a welcome sight after a grueling day and even longer night. I put my phone on
the nightstand and undress, slipping beneath the mint green satin covers and falling into a deep sleep.
A shrill sound rings through the peacefulness of my hard-earned rest. I slap at the noisy phone as
though it will stop the sound and make it go away, groaning softly to myself, because calls on the
landline are never good. I glance at the time on my phone before connecting. Barely even two hours of
sleep. I guess the random disturbances account for great salary and top-of-the-line accommodations.
No one to help cover calls yet except for me. “Hello?” I answer groggily.
“Hi, Dr. Palento. This is Sally.”
As many times as I tell them, they still insist on referring to me officially. “Please, it’s Adrianna.
If we’re going to keep having these chats in the middle of the night, you should at least call me by my
first name,” I tell the young woman. I’m pretty sure I can probably recognize her by voice alone after
being woken about a dozen times in the last three weeks for altercations that until then were few and
far between.
She laughs. “I’ll try to remember. Glad you still have your sense of humor after all the activity in
the urgent care today. Every time I have to call you, I think this is the night our new doctor is just
going to pack her bags and leave.”
My lips twist in a wry half-smile. “Well, that’s an idea I’ve never had,” I tell her jokingly.
“What’s going on? Don’t tell me another knife wound?”
A long sigh on the other end. “I sure hope not. But I’m not really sure. Mr. Salvatore Larussio
called, and he wasn’t quite as forthcoming with information as Giovanni usually is. He just told me
you are needed in the urgent care.”
My lips purse. Word travels fast around the resort, and it’s no secret to those of us in the family
employ that Giovanni has handed the reins of the family business over to his notorious and ruthless
cousin who is now next in line as the don of the entire Larussio Crime Family. And it’s no surprise
that wherever he goes, trouble follows. This is exactly why I’ve found myself dragged from the
comfort of my bed on multiple occasions this past month.
I look longingly at the bed. “Can you call down to Rachel and Shelly? See if they can get whoever
it is roomed? If it’s as superficial as the rest of the stuff that’s been coming through the door, this one
can wait an hour,” I tell Sally.
She doesn’t respond for more than a minute. “Umm … there’s more. I’m actually supposed to
deliver a message from Mr. Larussio to you.”
My eyebrows raise. “Whatever does the dark prince want after pulling me from a much-needed
night of sleep?”
She laughs at my reference, but it’s a nervous little laugh that I haven’t heard from her before.
“What’s the message, Sally?”
Sally inhales deeply and there’s a pause, as if she really doesn’t want to tell me. Then she
whispers. “He told me to tell Dr. Palento to double-time it down to the urgent care.”
My mouth gapes with instant outrage. How dare that man move into this resort, take over and start
bossing everyone around, including me? I knew he was trouble the minute I first laid eyes on him, and
my instincts were right to stay well and far away from the likes of him.
And I have done that, but now it’s time that mister high and mighty and I have a talk about how my
contract works here at the resort.
I slip into my discarded clothes and try to smooth down the wrinkles. “Don’t worry about it,
Sally. I’ll be down shortly.” I disconnect before heading into the bathroom. The toothbrush grates
across my teeth with more zeal than necessary before I throw some water on my face, slide into my
shoes, and race out the door.
When I arrive, two dark-haired males are talking with Rachel at the reception desk. They’re both
tall, but one is half holding the other upright. I recognize him as Dominic. He’s brought a different
man to the urgent care at least three times in the last few weeks with superficial wounds that needed
to be patched up.
There’s a small pool of blood gathering on the floor, and it’s not coming from the arm that’s been
wrapped up in someone’s shirt. I grab the wheelchair and hurriedly push it over to the men before we
have to pick the injured one up off the floor. “Here, help me get him into the chair,” I order Dominic
as I get the chair in position. When he’s situated, I hold one side of the double doors open, and we
head to the procedure room.
I take one of the man’s arms. “One more move, and we’ll be all set,” I tell my patient, helping him
up and onto the bed as Dominic bears most of the weight in the transfer.
Rachel asks the injured guy his name and how he was hurt. He tells her it’s Sergio but doesn’t say
anything other than that. He looks at me with widened eyes. She’s focused on the arm, visibly
bleeding through the makeshift bandage, but I’m more concerned with the amount of blood now
pooling into his lap.
I finish scrubbing up over the stainless-steel sink and cut through Sergio’s shirt with the scissors
from the tray that Shelly has set up. This is definitely worse than we’ve seen come through these
doors, and by the look in Dominic’s wide eyes it’s more than he thought too. And I already know after
the first visit that this is where they’ll come every single time.
No hospitals, no reports; that is the expectation from the crime family that owns The Larussio
Resort and Casino.
Dominic looks at me and down at the man lying with closed eyes while I use a fresh stack of clean
towels to see if we can stem the flow before cleaning the area. “What can I do to help my cousin?” he
asks. His dark, cold eyes seem to register genuine concern. “Rachel, scrub him up good, please. He
can help me keep the blood out of the way while I suture. You’re damn lucky that knife didn’t slice
right into his organs,” I tell Dominic as he walks toward the sink to do as I’ve asked.
Sergio’s eyes fly wide open. “I’m right here, Doc. You can talk to me. It’s not Dom’s fault. A
group of bikers attacked me. I got in a few good licks, though.” Sergio is grinning like a fool looking
at me now.
I shake my head and get scrubbed. Damn these Italian men and their fights. I return to his bedside.
“I’m going to numb the area. It’s going to hurt.”
He nods. “Do your best, doc lady. You patched up my other cousins pretty good this week,”
Sergio says before closing his eyes and locking his jaw through the pain of the lidocaine. Shelly
walks through the procedure room doors and tells me and Rachel that there is another emergency and
we’re going to need all hands on deck.
And it takes every hand that we have to make it through the rest of the night and get everyone
patched up and the angina attack that walked through the door under control. By the time we get
finished, I’m too tired to even stumble back to my penthouse on the other side of the casino.

I WAKE and groan after a couple of hours of rest, turning over on the twin-size bed in a small room
right off the procedure room. I walk across the room to check on the patient who came in with angina
and is still in observation. Lacy the nurse who relieves Rachel during dayshift, smiles as she enters
the room. “Good morning, Lacy.” The cardiac patient is doing well, and as I thought, it was just a
good old-fashioned case of angina, but even still, scary if you are the one whose heart is thumping
like it’s going to jump right out of your chest.
Once his wife takes him back to their hotel room and I finish my notes, there’s just enough time for
me to have breakfast and shower before the wedding.
The sun is shining through the glass casino walls as I walk out to the waiting area, fully intending
to grab something to eat at the little coffee shop around the corner before heading home. A woman
with a man in tow heading toward the urgent care captures my full attention. He’s sporting a puffy
face and even puffier lips, and if someone doesn’t get some epinephrine into him soon, his tongue
could swell, and he could die.
I take the patient and his wife to the back of the clinic and begin doing the initial assessment
myself, already knowing what’s happening but not what triggered the reaction. His wife fills me in on
what he ate, and it becomes crystal clear. I inject him with the life-saving agent, and now we sit and
wait to make sure it will work and that his heart will not stop after the trauma of the allergen.
Hours later, his elevated blood pressure from the trauma has stabilized, we know the worst is
over, and he and his wife are finally able to safely leave. I breathe a sigh of relief. Lacy greets me on
the way to my office and hands me a cup of coffee, a plastic wrapped sandwich, and some grapes for
lunch. “I know it’s above my pay grade to meddle in administration, but we seriously need two of
you, Dr. Palento.”
I smile, because these days, she’s not wrong. “Please, call me Adrianna.”
Lacy smiles. “If you keep running at this pace, you’re going to burn out, and I would hate to see
you go, Adrianna.”
I take a drink of the coffee filled with the Italian crème I love. “As soon as I have a chance to go
through those.” I gesture to a stack of perhaps twenty resumes. All from very qualified physicians
who would love to land a job at a prestigious resort, with incomparable salaries elsewhere,
penthouse suite accommodations, and an onsite chef. The only downside is that we get to work for
one of the most notorious crime families on the east coast and abroad, who have now joined forces
and appear to have put up stakes in the city of Las Vegas.
“Hopefully soon or you’re going to wear yourself out. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
I glance at the clock on the wall and grimace. “I may have missed the wedding, but I do need to
stop in and congratulate Giovanni and Serena.”
Lacy raises her eyebrows. “Mrs. Henderson just called. She asked if you could stop in and check
on her husband.” She hands me my medical bag. "Completely restocked. We should start charging for
room calls with as many visits as you've made lately. When you're wealthy enough to stay at a resort
like this one, you're wealthy enough not to have to get dressed and go to the clinic even if it is onsite.”
I can't help smiling at Lacy, recalling the last barely dressed patron who summoned us for a visit
to his room, drunk and all. I sigh and put my half-finished coffee down. “I better get going. I’ll stop
there and then make our apologies to the happy couple.”
Mr. Henderson is in good spirits when I look in on him, and I’m soon making my way through the
main casino, cutting through the backside of the chapel, passing several men wearing dark suits who
are busy watching for threats and not interested in looking at me too closely.
But one does…
The deep brown eyes are wary and watching, just like every single one of those Larussios. I
quickly avert my gaze and quicken my step, breathing deeply to get my racing heart under control.
Everything will be fine…
He’s probably not even the one…
There's no reason for them to suspect…
Unless you give them a reason to.
5

T he wedding at The Larussio Resort and Casino chapel is one of the largest the city of Vegas has
ever seen. Uncle Carlos Larussio’s eyes shine as he holds the hand of his wife sitting next to
him while Great-Uncle and Serena’s nonna look on proudly at the family who has gone through
so much conflict over the direction of our legacy but has finally, at least for today, come to terms. At
least enough to gather for Giovanni and Serena’s exchange of vows.
It's been a long time coming, but the heads of our families have finally united as one, as they
should have.
Giovanni looks relaxed, head over heels in love with his new wife, and seems relieved with his
decision to hand the role of don to me when Great-Uncle passes. Even as a child he veered away
from the violence that hangs on the family name like a shroud that cannot be shaken. He will do well,
continuing in his role to ensure the legitimate sides of the family’s interests are managed well into the
future.
As the best man, I’m one of the first to shake the hand of the man who has been more like a brother
to me since childhood. “Congratulations, Giovanni. You are beyond blessed,” I tell him as our great-
uncle swirls his new bride in a father-daughter dance since she doesn’t have one of her own.
Giovanni’s dark eyes take me in, and even before he says a word, I know he’s worried about his
decision to relinquish control of the family reins. Not for his sake, because Giovanni has always put
the family first, even when he wanted to pursue other things and was working tirelessly to make a
legitimate name for himself, but for mine.
He knows what building this colossal casino right in the middle of a rival family’s territory
means. Even if Uncle Carlos didn’t think it would signify us trying to take over the De Rosa’s turf, it’s
precisely fucking that.
But Giovanni shouldn’t be concerned with such things today.
I put his mind at ease because the last thing Giovanni should feel today is guilt. I gesture to his
new bride with my eyes. “You will protect Serena and my godchild and manage all of our world
resorts and other investments. I will protect our other family interests.” Doing what I’ve always done
for the family, the things that he doesn’t have the stomach to do, and Great-Uncle is far too fragile to
take on himself anymore, but things that are necessary to keep our family from becoming eaten by the
enemy.
The cousins and I will make sure things continue to run smoothly and will face whatever
challenges come our way. And as the man next in line to don, I will continue to work with Great-
Uncle to ensure the organization’s operations flow smooth and steady.
Giovanni smiles warmly. No words are needed between us. I can sense my cousin’s relief through
my core as his dark eyes travel toward his new wife and probably thoughts of the legitimate side of
the resort and casino and his new life.
The large mahogany double doors of the reception hall draw my attention toward the petite blonde
dressed in a pair of red and white Larussio medical scrubs. She makes her way past the foot soldiers
who have set up sentry on both sides of the door. Dr. Palento greets each of them with a friendly but
tired smile as she mingles with everyone on her way into the room and comes to stand by the dessert
table.
She’s barely had time to place her medical bag on the floor and is almost immediately accosted
by one of the Larussio casino managers, who immediately tries to garner her attention. He hands her a
china plate with a piece of cake and is rewarded with a small smile that I find annoying.
I’ve seen her in the hall several times, and the minute she sees me she hightails it in a different
direction as if I didn’t notice. But still, my jaw clenches with irritation. “Excuse me,” I tell my cousin,
stalking toward the table where cake and coffee have been set up and the manager with glasses is half
falling over himself to hand the pretty but irritable young doctor a napkin and a fork.
Dr. Palento looks up, and as I approach, her heart-shaped lips purse in the manner I’ve come to
expect; although I haven’t the slightest idea what rankles her about my very existence. As I reach their
sides, she takes the offerings from the manager’s hand.
I turn to the man who still stands awkwardly next to us. “Leave.”
The manager swallows hard, pushing his metal glasses up his nose before turning tail and making
his way across the room where he’s welcomed by a group of ladies employed by the resort.
This close up, Dr. Palento looks tired. Her long hair is disheveled, with long wisps making their
way out of her signature ponytail. The red scrubs she wears are so crumpled one would think she’s
been sleeping in them if the large rings around her startling deep blue eyes didn’t tell you that she has
barely slept at all. But sleep deprivation hasn’t dulled her sharp little tongue. “That was rude.”
I try to conceal a smile. “I like the word direct better. When did you sleep last?”
Her eyes raise to meet mine, wide and unafraid. “It’s been a while. I had just gotten to sleep after
a long delivery when I was so rudely awakened to take care of your brother last night, as you already
know. Usually, I wouldn’t discuss my patients, but he said that if you and Giovanni asked any
questions, I should tell you he decided to paint the town and shot his mouth off to the wrong biker.
Lord knows you wouldn’t want to know the truth.”
I scowl. “That’s what he told you to tell me? Is that what actually happened?”
She shrugs before dipping a fork into the creamy frosting and placing it in her mouth. When
finished, she smiles up at me. “Poor biker, apparently he didn’t know an almighty Larussio had
wandered into the underbelly of the city to blow off a little steam.”
I shrug and swipe at an imaginary speck on my suit jacket, not sure what she wants me to say
about that.
“Don’t you care that your brother could have died?”
My scowl deepens, and I glare down at the insolent young woman. “I was told it was superficial.
How bad was it?” I ask, leaving out the fact that the biker has already been dealt with in a way that
will send a message to anyone stupid enough to touch a Larussio in this city again.
She shrugs, swallowing a bite of cake before the dainty tip of her tongue peeks out of her mouth to
lick a speck of white frosting from a well-manicured finger devoid of even the slightest hint of nail
polish. “He needed sixteen stitches in his arm, double that in his abdomen, and wouldn’t take pain
meds. Hardly what I’d call superficial, but your family tends to do bodily injury in a big way and has
an aversion to hospitals, so there you go.”
I swallow down my initial remark as well as my disdain for the young woman. She helped my
brother last night, who I’ll be going to see as soon as I get done with this wedding, to discover just
how bad his injuries are and why the fuck I wasn’t told the severity last night.
She finishes swallowing a piece of cake, or—more accurately—another gob of pure sugar as
though it is the most delicious treat in the world, blood sugar be damned. “Don’t tell me the dark
prince himself didn’t know what happened?”
What a fitting description, dark. Perhaps I should tell her it’s king, though. The dark soon-to-be
king. “My cousins and brother are grown men and can take care of themselves. Perhaps it’s a half-
truth when it comes to Sergio, who can’t for the life of him keep himself out of a fight.”
She cocks her head, looking up at me. “Clearly they can’t, or they wouldn’t be knocking on my
door every other day.”
My jaw locks in annoyance. “And yet you found yourself drawn to The Larussio Resort and
Casino for employment? Hardly a surprise that you would be taking care of the family as well as our
patrons, no?”
Her blue eyes spark. “Giovanni, Katarina, and Carlos Larussio went to great lengths to make this
a legitimate legacy for their family. It was appealing at the time.” She sets her plate on the table and
wipes the tip of her nail on the embossed white napkin. “And now, not so much.”
I laugh outright. Her insolence is a refreshing change from the typical batting eyelashes or run for
the hills responses usually received when a woman finds out who I am. “Perhaps we should start
over, Dr. Palento.” I lean over to wipe a speck of frosting from next to her pale pink lips.
She blushes at the intimacy even as she half-heartedly pushes my hand away. I find myself
mesmerized by the color dotting the cheeks of her porcelain skin, which spreads down the length of
her creamy throat and settles just beyond the reach of my gaze.
“I’m Salvatore Larussio. We met in the urgent care when you took care of my family almost a
month ago, but you were busy.” I extend a hand and grace for her behavior at the time, watchful as she
contemplates my offer.
She sighs and then drags in a breath. “Sure, that’s probably the adult thing to do. It’s probably not
your fault that business in my urgent care department has tripled since you and your cousins flew into
town.”
My face breaks into a grin. “Purely coincidence, I’m sure.”
She narrows her eyes, but extends a hand nonetheless. “I’m Adrianna Palento. I run the clinic, as
you already know.”
“If the shadows under your eyes are any indication, we should hire more help. One doctor alone
can hardly be expected to take care of the medical needs of the entire establishment.”
The little lines of her forehead wrinkle. “Not to worry. Help is on the way. I’ve been slowly
building the team and have a great group of nurses who are all excellent at what they do.”
“Which leaves you alone to cover all the critical calls.”
Adrianna shrugs, and her spine straightens, but even so, she has to tip her head to look up at me.
She can’t be more than five-six with her shoes on. “It really hasn’t been a problem until today. We’ve
been holding out for the perfect physician to join our team. Believe it or not, it was all pretty
manageable until you and your cousins arrived.”
I glance around at the room full of my family, all of whom have traveled in from around the city,
New York, and Italy alike to celebrate the occasion, but also to make it clear to our enemies that the
Larussio families have officially joined forces and taken over the city that doesn’t sleep. “Let me
assure you, we have no intention of leaving Las Vegas, so perhaps a speedier hiring process is in
order?”
A waiter carrying a large silver platter of fluted champagne glasses walks by, and I take two of
the bubblies, handing one to Adrianna. “You should drink this, get something substantial to eat, and
then go to bed. You look like you haven’t rested in days.”
Her lips turn up in a half-smile. “I hadn’t heard there was another doctor in the house.”
I gesture toward her clothes as a case in point, before taking a drink of the champagne flown in for
the occasion from one of our vineyards in Champagne, France, ninety miles from Paris.
Adrianna grimaces. “That bad, huh?” She laughs softly, a tinkling sound that I find intriguing, as
she skims her eyes down the length of her wrinkled attire before taking a tentative sip of the decadent
champagne. Now she looks slightly embarrassed, and I feel a tinge of guilt, but she has to see that one
person can’t do it all, especially when her clients are the Larussios. We need her at the top of her
game, not half asleep every time we call.
She fidgets nervously. “I would have changed before coming, but one of our guests had a reaction
to strawberries. Go figure, a food allergy would show up while on the vacation of your life. He just
turned sixty and has never been allergic to a thing in his life. You just never know what life’s going to
throw at you.”
Adrianna takes another sip of her drink, as if this type of emergency rarely comes up, which I
know to be false. Urgent cares are always going to have urgent needs, especially at such a large
resort. Add an entire crime family and you need more than one doc. Simple math, but she doesn’t
seem to see it that way. “You need another doctor in the house, and if it doesn’t happen quickly, I’ll
hire someone myself.”
Her eyes flare. She looks around to make sure no one is listening, and they aren’t. They couldn’t
care less what we’re talking about, and they know better than to eavesdrop on conversations anyway.
Everyone is high on the celebration of a new wedding and the future of the happy couple, and more
than their fair share of the bubbly by now. Still, she lowers her voice as she hisses like an angry cat at
me. “I told you it’s being handled. Seriously, are you always this high-handed?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “You’re overworked, crumply, and in need of help.”
She takes another sip of the champagne and watches me from the cover of her glass, her eyes
swirling with stormy emotion before corralling the energy and gracing me with her reply. “And that’s
your business, how?”
I level her with my gaze. “Because you work for me.”
She almost chokes on her champagne and this time forgets to lower her voice. “The hell I do,” she
blurts, her eyes almost immediately circling the room to see if she’s been overheard.
I smirk, enjoying the encounter so much more than I should. “Anything and anyone remotely
connected to the family or our organization is my business. Running the urgent care and being the only
physician on call for the entire casino and resort—it’s too much for one person.”
Her mouth gapes. “I’m quite capable of making that decision and managing things until I find the
right partner. I want someone who isn’t going to cave at the slightest shadow of the almighty Larussio
or tell one of you what you want to hear instead of what’s good for the patients and our department. I
was hired to be a good doctor, not a flunky who takes orders from whatever Larussio happens to
grace me with his presence.”
My jaw shifts, refraining from another smirk as Adrianna’s eyes flash like fireworks. I soak it in
for a long moment, intrigued, as she continues to glare at me with those pursed heart-shaped lips, as
though she hasn’t quite finished chewing my ass thoroughly enough yet.
“The family hired you because you were the top in your class, and you were interested in working
here and not in a traditional setting. My understanding is that you knew what you were getting into.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You know a lot about me for someone I’ve met a few times during
the care of your family. Seriously, do you personally check the backgrounds of all the Larussio
employees?”
This spitfire huffs at me like a dragon as though I’m in the wrong for ensuring a thorough
background check is done on my employees and breathes fire at me when I try to get her help. “Of
course I know about you, Doctor. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t. I know what schools you
went to, your grades, where you lived five years before coming to work for the Larussios, and that
your favorite dish from a restaurant in the resort is cacio e pepe, but my guess is that hardly scratches
the surface where you’re concerned. Am I right, Adrianna?”
Her eyes widen, and her lips purse. “What else do you know about me?”
My eyebrows lift, but I don’t bother to answer. It’s no secret who we are, and anyone who applies
to work in our employ is subject to the most extensive of background checks. I take her glass of
champagne and hand it to a passing server, along with my own. “The emcee said everyone on the
floor for this dance. We’ll insult our hosts if we don’t participate,” I warn her, tugging her through her
reluctance and a sea of bodies toward the dance floor.
Adrianna’s cheeks are flushed as I place one of my hands to the small of her back, keeping her
other in mine while closing the gap between us. She looks up at me with indignation and those
firework-like eyes. “I’m not dressed for this. And I don’t dance with men like you. This isn’t
happening,” she whisper hisses.
I pull her so close I can feel the beat of her heart, as she looks up at me with wide eyes that a man
could easily drown in, if not careful to avoid.
“This is happening.”
6

T he devil gazes down at me with deep brown eyes and long natural lashes that most women
would die to have, the heat of his body pressing against mine as the dance floor accommodates
the swell of everyone at the reception. “Do you always care what people think, Adrianna?”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry because no, normally I don’t, especially not from people like
him, but… “I wasn’t intending to stay. I was just going to slip in and congratulate the happy couple
and slip out.”
“And anyone who’s anything to the Larussios is well aware of the altercation last evening and
your role in helping our family. The fact that you’re here at all speaks to your commitment to the
family, regardless of your crumply uniform,” Salvatore replies, his mouth twisting in a smirk as the
light bounces from his dark eyes and he spins me around.
I gasp as he turns me full circle to face him again. “I wasn’t expecting that,” I gasp. Salvatore
laughs down at me, a lock of wavy dark hair falling across one eye as he raises his brows in a
challenge. “You’ll have to be quick on your feet to keep up with a Larussio.”
“Or to run from one!”
He smirks. “Touché. Well played, but there will be no running today.” The devil smirks, spinning
me once more to the beat of the traditional Italian wedding song while I try to figure out how I’ve
gone from altogether avoiding this man and his contemptible kind, to being swirled around the dance
floor in his arms.
But maybe it’s not a bad thing. Perhaps I can use the situation to my advantage.
The band slowly finishes out the song, and Salvatore looks down at me with amusement. “Thank
you for the dance, Adrianna.” As gentlemanly as he sounds, I get the direct impression that he’s
mocking me, but perhaps a check on perspective and tactics is needed. He’s done nothing but offer to
help me get someone hired quicker, and regardless of what he and his family do or have done to me
and my family, there’s no reason to be rude.
It’s not like I have to see him much after today, and he could make my life a living hell if he
wanted. And then I wouldn’t get what I want. “You’re welcome. Thank you for the drink and the offer
to help with the staffing situation. I have a few resumes on my desk. I’ll go through them and turn them
into Giovanni tomorrow. Right now, all I want is to check in on my patient and then get some much-
needed sleep.”
He gestures to my bag on the floor. “Is that why you brought that?”
I nod. “I stopped by to see a patient on my way here and told another and his wife I’d stop by their
room afterward since I was going to be on this side of the resort anyway.”
“After you finish, then you'll rest.”
My cheeks heat. I’m unsure if it’s indignation at his presumptuousness or downright
embarrassment that he doesn’t seem to think I can take care of myself. When was the last time
someone even noticed that I looked tired or needed to sleep, and it had to be the most ruthless of the
Larussios? “Good night, Salvatore. Thank you.” I grab my bag and hurriedly scan the room, turning in
the direction of the new bride and the women gathered around her, still flustered by my emotional
response to the dangerous man who could end my life with a snap of his finger.
I wind my way through the small round tables decorated with white tablecloths and crystal
glasses and through the throng of Larussios until I find Serena. She puts down a half-empty glass of
water filled with crushed ice as I approach, pulling me into her arms. “Adrianna, I was scared after
all the trouble with Sergio last night that you wouldn’t be able to make it. Thank you so much for
taking such good care of him.”
The bride is beautiful, and I really do regret missing her special moment. She has done nothing to
me or my family. “I’m so sorry I missed the wedding. You look absolutely stunning,” I tell her
because she is a lovely, gentle woman from a good family in Italy, much like my mother’s family. It’s
not her fault she ended up with one of them. I glance down at my attire. “This uniform has seen better
days. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get changed. I just thought I would stop in and congratulate you.
There’s another patient who I need to see, so I can’t stay long.”
She nods. “I completely understand. Wait until I give Sergio and Dominic a piece of my mind.
That will be the last time they go gallivanting all over the city the night before my wedding.”
I laugh. “Well, let’s hope it’s the last wedding, right?”
She blushes. “You know what I mean. Those men! Completely grown and they still can’t manage
to stay out of trouble. Everywhere they go, they find it. We are so lucky to have you here. I honestly
don’t know what we would do without you.”
“I’m sure you would survive, but it’s very nice of you to say.”
Giovanni steps in and takes her arm. “Excuse us, but I think this dance is for me.” He doesn’t even
glance at me but smiles down at his new bride as he whisks her away.
How a decent person like her gets sucked into a life with a bunch of ruthless criminals I will
never understand. But she seems happily blissful as if her new husband and head of this resort isn’t
neck-deep into the family’s dirty side, laundering all the money they get from running drugs, girls,
guns and whatever else they’re into these days. And it doesn’t look like he’s forcing her into marriage
or anything. She genuinely seems to care about these brutal bastards.
Dark-hearted men like the ones always lurking in and around the family shops in Naples, coming
into the shop where my mom worked as a seamstress for a wealthy couturier. They dress in fine linens
and then soil them with the blood of their enemies without a second thought or one bit of remorse
when it’s done. The rich and powerful men like them came in like they owned the place, wanting their
custom-made clothes tailored in a very specific way, and when they walked out, I could hear Mom
and her boss whispering about the crime family, mafia, and Cosa Nostra that came to call.
They didn’t extort money from the lady Mom worked for, though. No, she was privileged, one of
the chosen few who were treated well. She had something they wanted and provided it when they
wanted it done. Of course, my mother was the one who sewed all night until the tips of her fingers
were bloody from the effort, but the suits and dresses for fancy affairs were always pristine, finished
on time, and without flaw.
It might have been hard work, but my mother was fortunate to find that job. Especially after my
grandparents banished her from the house at the tender age of nineteen, when she could no longer hide
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kuin ne valmistuvat.

Tällainen juuri olikin Kirstin mieleistä. Hän lensi yläkertaan, vaihtoi


puhtaan esiliinan eteensä ja hävisi keittiön puolelle. Olihan
hänelläkin näissä tanssiaisissa osansa, sillä tulisihan Eijakin ja kaikki
tyynni Kuuselasta ja kaikki Tapiolasta ja kaikki Kukkaisrinteeltä ja
Lehtolasta ja Henrik eno ja Tea täti ja professorin väet ja yleensä
kaikki. Ja ne olivat hänenkin tuttaviaan eikä vain Yrjön.

Yrjön toverit oli kutsuttu jo päivällisille.

He tulivatkin määrätyllä junalla ja tuiskahtivat yhtaikaa sisään,


koko parvi valkolakkisia. Henrik eno rouvineen ja professori setä
kaupungista ja tuttavat huvilayhteiskunnasta saapuivat vähän
myöhemmin, mutta kaikki hyvissä ajoin ennen tanssiaisten
alkamista. Siinä oli kaikenikäistä koolla, kuten maalla on tapana.

Tytöt juoksivat puutarhakäytäviä pitkin ihastuneina maalla-


oloonsa. Ettekö pelkää kastuvanne? Mutta he nauroivat vain, eivätkä
välittäneet lumesta tai kosteasta ruohikosta. Valkoiset tanssikengät
jaloissa he hyppivät taimilavalle katsomaan kurkuntaimia tai
nurmikon yli krokuksia poimimaan. Lumeen tuli jäljet, mutta he eivät
tienneet kastuvansa.

He olivat solakkavartaloisia ja heleäihoisia, ja heidän paljaat


käsivartensa hohtivat läpikuultavien hartialiinojen läpi. Alusta alkaen
oli kevätillan kauneus saanut heidät valtoihinsa.

Nyt kelpasi tanssia ikkunat auki ja nuo soikeat koivut tuossa


katsomassa, kuulemassa. Ja toukokuun yö kuultaisi
vaaleasilmäisenä sisään ikkunoista. Silloin puutarha jäisi autioksi ja
pisarat putoilisivat puista kenenkään niitä huomaamatta.
Valkoisena kyyhkysparvena he pyrähtivät portaille täyttäen kuistit.

Mutta isä oli istuutunut flyygelin ääreen soittamaan mitä sillä


hetkellä juolahti hänen mieleensä. Aina olen kadehtinut tuota hänen
taitoansa, että milloin tahansa saattoi antaa sävelien puhua
puolestansa ja siten lausua julki sen minkä tunsi. Silloin hän antoi
sormiensa liukua koskettimien yli leveissä urkujen tapaisissa
soinnuissa, jotka olivat hänelle ominaiset. Mutta vähitellen siitä
keskittyi sävel, joka ei ollut millekään oratoriolle sukua, vaan oli
vanha ylioppilaslaulu, jonka hän muisti ensimmäisiltä
ylioppilasvuosiltaan. Se kaikui vihdoin selvänä ja tahdikkaana ja
houkutteli nuoret sisään verannoilta ja ruokahuoneen leveästä
oviaukosta. Mutta he eivät laulua tunteneet. Ainoastaan sinä, Yrjö,
professori setä, Henrik eno ja muutamat muut vanhemmista yhdyitte,
ja unohdettu laulu tuli uudeksi jälleen:

Laula sä raittiilla mielellä vaan, riemua nauti sa nuorena


viel', uljaana astele ain' elon tiell' vääryyttä vastahan
taistelemaan. Tullos veikkonen, liittyös liittohon, työmme,
toimemme, ja parhaat voimamme sulle annamme kallihin
maa, sulle kallihin syntymämaa. Hurraa!

Henrik eno katsoi nuoriin, katsoi vanhoihin. Hän, perinnäistapojen


ja perinnäistietojen mies, tahtoi aina huomata yhdyssiteet
sukupolvien kesken, ja sentakia häntä harmitti, ja hän sanoi hiukan
äreästi:

— Sellaisia vanhoja lauluja pitäisi kaikkien osata!

Sanoi ja istuutui. Vaikka hyvin tiesi, että se meidän oloissamme on


mahdotonta. Mehän elämme sellaista huimaavaa vauhtia, että kaikki
on muutamien vuosien kuluessa toiseksi muuttunut. Ja kuitenkin hän
oli oikeassakin. Niin, Henrik eno, meillä pitäisi olla enemmän yhteyttä
sukupolvien kesken. Ehkäpä sentään onkin, enemmän kuin itse
tiedämmekään. Löydämme nytkin toisemme jälleen ja tulemme
vastaisuudessa yhä paremmin löytämään.

Eikä Henrik enon pieni huomautus ollutkaan kenenkään


tunnelmaa häirinnyt.

Mutta isä oli unohtunut flyygelin ääreen, kuten usein sattui. Hän
antoi sävelen seurata toistaan jälkisoiton tapaisessa
muistelmasarjassa, joka kertoi muinaisista nuoruudenhetkistä,
kauniista kesäilloista Kaisaniemessä, jolloin hän oli istunut pöydän
päässä tahtipuikko kädessään ja Töölön lahti oli siintänyt koivujen
lomitse. Tai auringon laskuista Saimaan tummilla vesillä, jolloin
valkolakkinen seurue laivan perältä kajahutti laulun toisensa jälkeen
yli päilyvien pintojen, ja Saimaan saaret niihin kotoisesti vastailivat.
Sinne olivat jääneet uinuvien maisemien ainaisiksi aarteiksi.

Mutta Yrjön vieraat olivat taasen hajaantuneet huoneisiin ja


verannoille, ja kaikkialla kuului iloisten äänten humu. Tarjottiin
virvokkeita, ja mummo ja Tea täti lähettivät hedelmälautaset
kiertämään.

Silloin kajahtivat ensimmäiset valssin sävelet. Pojat kavahtivat


pystyyn ja tytöt suorivat helmojaan. Itse kenraali täydessä
sotilaspuvussaan istui flyygelin ääressä soittaen tahdikasta,
huikaisevaa, mukaansa tempaavaa säveltä, jotakin vierassointuista
ja etelämaalaisen kiihottavaa. Nuoret eivät olleet vielä milloinkaan
tanssineet sellaisen soiton tahtiin. Vanhat taukosivat juttelemasta,
pojat kohentelivat kravattejaan, vetivät hansikkaat käsiinsä ja
viipyivät jotakin odotellen.
Silloin sinä, Yrjö, lensit lattian yli ja kumarsit Marjalle. Otteesi
hänen vyötäisillään oli voimakas ja varma, ikäänkuin ei tässä kukaan
voisi riistää sinulta tätä oikeuttasi häneen. Ja Marja nojasi sinuun.
Hitaasti keinuen te liu'uitte pitkin salin valkoista permantoa. Teidän
vartalonne notkuivat, teidän silmänne hymyilivät. Kaikkien katseet
kiintyivät teihin, ja myötätunto ympäröi teidät. Näytitte siltä, kuin
olisitte otaksuneet nyt tällä hetkellä aloittavanne voittokulkunne halki
elämän mahdollisuuksien, joita aioitte valloittaa toisen toisensa
jälkeen. Tämä oli nuoruutenne ja ystävyytenne juhla, josta tie aukesi
onnenne maailmaan. Ja mikäpä sille rajoja rakentaisi?

Marja näytti olevan kanssasi samaa mieltä. Hänen poskensa


punottivat ja hän oli kaunis valkoisessa puvussansa, sininen reunus
helmassa.

Muut unohtivat yhtyä teihin, seuraten teitä silmillään, ikäänkuin


olisi ollut itsestään selvää, että tämä ensimmäinen valssi oli
tarkoitettu yksin teille. Teille virtasivat sävelet vyöryen läpi talon
hiljaiseen puutarhaan asti avonaisista ikkunoista, teille hengitti
ulkona kevätyö lemujaan, ja teidän onnenne tapaista aavistaen
yksinäiset vaeltajat pysähtyivät tien risteykseen soittoa
kuuntelemaan ja itsekseen hymähtäen.

Kun veit Marjan paikoilleen, keskeytti kenraali soittonsa ja aloitti


uuden valssin. Ja yleinen karkelo alkoi, joka kesti läpi illan. Nuori
maisteri vei Marjan tanssiin ja sinä, Yrjö, olit kohtelias kaikille
tyttötovereillesi.

Mutta katsojat olivat nyt kerta kaikkiaan lämmenneet. Heissä


läikkyi hyvä mieli siitä, että tässä ehkä oli toteutumassa se mikä
ihmiselämässä oli kauneinta, mikä heidän sisimmässään oli pyhintä.
Kukaan ei sitä selvään ajatellut, ja he olisivat luultavasti kieltäneet tai
pienellä naurahduksella väistäneet, jos kukaan olisi siitä puhunut.
Mutta itsetiedottomasti he iloitsivat siitä, että se taas oli heille
ilmestymässä, tuossa aivan heidän silmäinsä edessä toteutumassa,
niin että siihen sai uskoa ja siinä elää, siinä omassakin, joka alkoi
hohtaa entisellä lämmöllään tänä valoisana keväisenä yönä.

Isä oli herkkämielisenä kokonaan sen lumoissa. Hän seisoi kuistin


ovella ja katseli ulos puutarhaan. Ja hän ajatteli sitä kohtalon hetkeä,
jolloin rakkaus meille ihmisille saapuu, suurena ja vaativana, ja
jolloin suljemme silmämme antaumuksen riemu sielussamme. Jolloin
meillä ei enää ole entisyyttä eikä tulevaisuutta, vaan ainoastaan
onnea uhkuva nykyisyys.

Miten vähäpätöiseksi tuleekaan kaikki muu, kun se hetki saapuu!

Silloin se meitä hallitsee ja me sitä nöyrästi palvelemme,


kysymättä palkkaa, tietämättä rikkaudesta tai köyhyydestä,
ylhäisyydestä tai alhaisuudesta. Ainoastaan siitä yhdestä, joka on
elämän suurin ihme.

Ehkä hän kiitti elämää siitä, että se sarasti Yrjönkin tiellä. Tosin
ainoastaan sarasti. Sillä mitä he vielä, niin nuoret ihmiset, saattoivat
tietää myöhemmän iän itsetietoisesta, voimakkaasta
antaumuksesta? Tämä oli vain aavistusta siitä, mutta kuitenkin
aavistusta semmoisesta jota silmä joi, jota kädet epäröivin liikkein
haparoivat ja joka pani sielun väräjämään. Joka sai hänet entisensä
unohtamaan ja kaikkensa antamaan ja avoimin silmin unta
näkemään elämän suurimmasta onnesta.

Tulisitko vielä tuntemaan rakkauden itsensä, Yrjö? Nyt huumauduit


jo sen esimausta. Ja aika riensi. Mitä kohti se riensi?
Mutta salissa humisivat tanssin sävelet ja karkelo vilkastui
vilkastumistaan. Tanssit vaihtelivat, sorina huoneissa säesti iloa ja
Kirsti ja muut pikku tytöt hyppelivät yhä rohkeammin suurten parissa.

Koko illan istui kenraali pianon ääressä, katsoen suoraan eteensä


nuotteja hyljeksien ja kuin jostakin kaukaa mielensä komeroista
loihtien esiin kumpuavia hyrskypäitä sävelmiä. Siinä oli kuin arojen
kuumaa kaihoa — kuin kavioitten kopsetta ja kannusten helinää —
kuin vierasmaalaisten tanssisalien loistoa ja menneen ajan
huumaavaa komeutta. Hän oli kuin jossakin poissa — missä lie ollut
hänkin entisten päiviensä muistoissa.

*****

Mutta, Yrjö, sano minulle tänään, mistä se johtui, että sitten


tunnelma salissa vähitellen muuttui? Miksi annoit nuoren maisterin
viedä kerta toisensa jälkeen Marjan tanssin pyörteeseen etkä
kertaakaan kumartanut hänelle enää? He tanssivat yhdessä pitkät
ajat ja istuutuivat sitten toistensa kanssa seurustelemaan. Ja salissa
tuntui kuin tyhjältä, ja vanhempien ihmisten mielen täytti kuin
pettymyksen apeus. Ja illan kosteus löi uutimet lakoon, niin että
sohvan puoleinen ikkuna oli suljettava.

Oliko satanut lunta teidän tunteittenne tuskin puhjenneisiin lehtiin?


Vai oliko tämä vain leikkiä ja sokkosilla-oloa? Eihän se perästäpäin
mitään merkitsekään. Mutta silloin se tummensi kevätillan valoisia
enteitä.

Ehkä oli niin, että lankesi varjo tiellesi, vaikkei kukaan meistä sitä
huomannut. En tiedä, näitkö sen itse, mutta oli kuin olisit jotakin
väistänyt, ja kasvojesi yli kulki surumielisyyden väreily, joka jätti
jälkeensä väsähtäneen ilmeen.
Huomasin kyllä, että seurasit Marjaa silmilläsi. Tiesit aina, kenen
kanssa hän tanssi ja missä. Mutta annoit asiain mennä menojaan ja
tyydyit siihen että täytit kohteliaan isännän velvollisuuksia muita
tyttöjä kohtaan.

Henrik eno ja Kukkaisrinteen isäntä istuivat matalassa sohvassa


poltellen, jutellen ja tanssia seuraten.

— Senkin takkiainen! — sanoi Henrik eno ääneen ja heitti


savurenkaan ilmaan.

Ketä hän oli tarkoittanut?

— Toivotaan, että se korjautuu — sanoi aina toivorikas professori


setä.

Mutta Kukkaisrinteeläinen nosti lasinsa, kilisti, sytytti sikarinsa


uudestaan ja he jatkoivat pakinaansa viimeisistä uutisista.

Teekeittiö kannettiin sisään, ja alettiin tarjota teetä. Sinun


tuodessasi lasisi täytettäväksi kuiskasin sinulle sitä täyttäessäni:

— Mitä varten? — Miksi, Yrjö —?

— Älä siihen kajoa! — sanoit jyrkästi ja hiljaa.

Ja soitto jatkui. Yhä kuumemmiksi kävivät tyttöjen posket, yhä


vilkkaammiksi poikien liikkeet. Tahtia jo poljettiin ja hansikkaat
pistettiin taskuihin.

Tea täti, Henrik enon rouva, istui keltaisessa nurkkasohvassa ja


katseli tanssivia.
— On sääli Yrjöä — sanoi hän. — Koko tämän illan ilo on mennyt
häneltä hukkaan.

— Ei tiedä sentään — sanoin jotakin sanoakseni. — Täytyyhän


hänen siihenkin tottua.

— Niin, mutta minä luulen, että se on Yrjössä tavallista syvempää.


Ja sitten juuri tänään!

Tietysti. Mutta, se nyt ei ollut autettavissa.

— Älä nyt äiti — Kyllä me asiamme selvitämme. — Niin oli


katseesi sanonut. Ja selvitittekin.

Sitä iltaa tosin en ole koskaan täysin ymmärtänyt, mutta kai te sen
itse tiedätte. Viimeinenkin valssi soitettiin, mutta ette tanssineet sitä
yhdessä.

Mutta tuota päivää ajatellessani on mieleni silti raskas. Silloin


laskeutui varjo kohtalosi tielle ja valoisa hetki himmeni. Siinä oli
aavistus kaiken katoavaisuudesta, nuoruuden ja rakkaudenkin
haihtumisesta kuplana.

Mahtaako kukaan muu enää muistaa, miten valkoisen äänetön se


ilta oli?

28.

Tanssin loputtua vieraiden tungeskellessa eteisessä


ennättääkseen junalle, sanoit äkkiä:
— Minäkin lähden kaupunkiin.

— Ennätät kai takaisin viimeisellä junalla?

— Ennätän.

Ja talo jäi tyhjäksi.

Mutta oli paljon järjestettävää, ennenkuin ennätin ajatella unta.


Isää väsytti, ja hän meni levolle omaan huoneeseensa. Kirsti oli jo
aikoja sitten nukahtanut jollekin sohvalle. Mummo sanoi hyvää yötä
ja vetäytyi omalle puolelleen. Mutta minä askartelin vielä kauan
järjestämällä veitset ja lusikat laatikkoihin ja lasit kaapin hyllylle.

Ja ajatukset kulkivat omia teitään.

Saivat vihdoin olla hetkisen kahdenkesken, ajattelin itsekseni.


Ehkäpä saattoivat vetäytyä erilleen muista johonkin vaunun tyhjään
osastoon. Ja sitten tietysti kulkevat yhdessä tyhjiä katuja pitkin ja
purkavat mieltään toisilleen. Hyvästelevät sitten porraskäytävässä
ennenkuin Marja pistää avaimensa oveen.

Hyvä oli niin.

Mutta miksi olin niin apea mieleltäni? Ikäänkuin olisi jokin


solumaisillaan pois! — No niin, nuoruuden tarinat ovat harvoin pitkät.
— Eikä se sekään mieltäni painanut. Takatalvi ehkä uhkasi
hävityksineen. Lehtisilmut ehkä paleltuisivat lumipeitteen alla, ja
täytyisi nähdä surkastuneita lehtiä puissamme pitkin kesää. — Tai
voisiko jotenkuten viihtymys täällä kotona häiriintyä ja astuisiko
tyhjyys sijalle?

Mutta miksi sellaista ajattelin?


Lehdethän olivat hyvässä tallessa peitteensä alla, jos
aamupuolella yötä ehkä tulisi halla hiipien ja yrittäisi iskeä kyntensä
niihin. Ja muuten elämässähän kävi ainainen vaihtelu, tuskin oli
kesään päästy, niin oli taas talvi, ja toiveitten idut saattoivat paleltua
kuoliaaksi.

No niin.

Värisin vilusta. Mutta huoneessani vedin uutimet syrjään ennen


maata-panoani ja jätin kattolampun palamaan, jotta Yrjö tullessaan
näkisi että vielä valvoin.

Oli ruvennut satamaan. Vesipisarat putoilivat ikkunalautaa


vastaan, hyräillen yksitoikkoista säveltään.

Ja siihen nukuin.

Heräsin unestani kun verannan ovi kävi. Kuulin askeleita portailla


ja sitten naputuksen ovelleni. Sinä, Yrjö, astuit sisään.

Voinko ottaa sitä puheeksi? Koskeeko se sinuun?

Mutta eihän enää — se on niin kokonaan takanasi nyt. Ja


kuuluuhan se kaikki yhteiseen elämäämme.

Kesäsateen tuoksu lemusi vaatteistasi.

— Oletko hyvin märkä? — kysyin.

— En ollenkaan — vastasit reippaasti — eikä siellä ollut


kylmäkään. He käskivät sanomaan terveisiä — heillä oli äärettömän
hauskaa.

— Kenellä esimerkiksi?
— Kaikilla — Olavilla ja Jussilla ja Marjalla — ja he sanoivat, että
sellaista pitäisi olla useammin, eivätkä he sillä tarkoittaneet yksin
tanssia, vaan kaikkea muutakin — sitäkin että oltiin täällä maalla —
ja kotona ja kaikki mukana — ja kaikkea.

— Oliko sinulla itselläsikin hauska?

— Oli minullakin.

Viivähdit ja näytit hiukan vaivaantuneelta ja lisäsit miltei kiihkeästi:

— Ja ellei ollut niinkuin olisi voinut, niin ei minua häirinnyt se, mitä
sinä luulet —.

— Vaan mikä sitten?

Vilkaisit minuun ja puna lensi kasvoillesi hiusmartoa myöten. Ja


ikäänkuin heti toteuttaaksesi päätöstä, jonka olit tehnyt yksinäisellä
kotimatkallasi, syöksähdit puhumaan:

— Tätä iltaahan olen odottanut — et tiedä miten kärsimättömästi


— viikkoja ja miltei kuukausia —!

— Mitä — mitä varten?

Olin noussut puoleksi istualleni ja tuijotin kasvoihisi. Sinä tuskin


saatoit itseäsi hillitä, ja ohimosi paisuen sykkivät. Miksi, Jumalan
nimessä? Koko ruumiisi pingottui jännityksen tuskasta. Oi Yrjö, et
saanut sanaakaan suustasi.

Aavistus kuristi kurkkuani. Siinä se nyt oli — siinä oli se, jonka olin
tahtonut uskoa tässä tapauksessa kuolleeksi, jota olin väistänyt ja
jota olin koettanut lepyttää varokeinoilla ja rakkauden keksimillä
hyvityksillä. Siinä se nyt oli, veren voimakas ääni! Ja senkö takia oli
iltakin sellainen ollut? Enkä ollut mitään aavistanut! Enkä ollut
puhunut ajoissa, vaan antanut tuskallisten ajatusten kasaantua
kasaantumistaan, odotuksen kasvaa kasvamistaan, kunnes mieli oli
niin täysi, että se uhkasi tulvia yli äyräittensä.

Pitikö siis tämän hetken kerran tulla! Oi, pitihän sen tulla, mutta ei
se olisi tällaisena tullut, jos olisin aikaisemmin puhunut kaikki
selväksi. Ja ehkä sitä siten olisi voinut väittääkin!

Ja sinä, Yrjö, katsoit minuun miltei arasti, puristaen kourasi yhteen


niin että sormien nivelet kävivät valkeiksi.

— Tahdoin kysyä sinulta jotakin — sait lopulta vaivoin sanotuksi.

— Tiedän, tiedän — huudahdin enempää torjuen. — Mikset ole


kysynyt ennen? Tarkoitan, miksen ole sitä kertonut sinulle jo aikoja
sitten? Tietysti — tietysti saat tietää kaiken minkä minäkin tiedän.

Ja hiljaisella, rauhoittavalla äänellä aloin sinulle sitten kertoa


syntyperästäsi, mitään muuta ajattelematta kuin sitä, että voisin
tuottaa sinulle lievennystä, että voisin auttaa sinut tämän
ylivoimaisesti vaikean hetken läpi.

Tiedät mitä silloin kerroin — yksinkertaisesti ja suoraan. Niin ja niin


se oli. Äitisi oli nuori — hyvin nuori — isäsi ei ollut paljoakaan
vanhempi.

— Se oli heidän nimensä — sellainen oli heidän säätynsä.

Olit luisunut lattialle vuoteeni viereen ja painoit kuuman otsasi


käteeni. Otsa oli hiestä kostea ja ohimoitten valtimot tykyttivät
hurjasti.
Oi poikani, minkälaisen hetken me silloin elimme!

Kuinka minun oli sinua äärettömästi sääli! Sellainen poika — muita


paljon hienompi ja jalompi — ja hänen piti näin vavisten
alkuperäänsä tiedustella! Kapinoin — tuskastuin puolestasi — miksi
piti näin olla? Ja voi niitä, jotka tällaista aiheuttavat, jotka elämän
sytyttävät sen enempää välittämättä siitä, mitä kärsimyksiä he omille
lapsilleen tuottavat! Voi niitä ajattelemattomia! Ja voi niitä itsekkäitä!

Mutta minä rauhoituin. Minunhan piti sinua tyynnyttää ja auttaa.

Ja jatkoin hellävaroen kertomustani.

Siellä ja siellä he asuivat. Äitisi hienosukuinen äiti oli sairaalloinen


— makasi enimmäkseen sohvallaan voimatta liikkua — tytär oli
kaunis ja kookas, lahjakasta sukua, maansa parhaimpia. — Oli kevät
ja lämmin tuoksu täytti ilman. Nuoret kävelivät ja ratsastelivat
yhdessä valkoisia teitä ja tuuheitten pyökkimetsien varjossa.
Harmahtavien korkeitten runkojen lomitse, joiden päällä oli tiheä
lehtikatto ja alhaalla oli auringon läikkiä maassa. Muistat
pyökkimetsän, Yrjö! Kaikki heidän ympärillään kukki, ja he antoivat
lempensä puhjeta kukkaan, mitään ja ketään kysymättä.

Seuraavana kevättalvena sinä synnyit.

Liikahdit ja pyyhit nenäliinallasi otsaasi. Minä jatkoin, hiuksiasi


hiljaa silitellen:

— Sellainen on tarinasi. Mutta muista, Yrjö, älä katkeroidu


mieleltäsi. Hehän olivat niin nuoria, etteivät jaksaneet edesvastuuta
punnita. Ja äidilläsi oli liian vähän tukea kotonaan. Kun sitten
synnyit, silloin tunsi jo äitisi surun. Se oli hänet yllättänyt, se oli
tuonut kauhua mukanansa hänen mieleensä. En tiedä, mikseivät he
sitten menneet naimisiin. Kun aika joutui, antautui äitisi tuon
hienosukuisen diakonissan huostaan, joka oli suuren laitoksen
johtajatar. Hän tunsi heidät, hän otti sinut vastaan ja hän sinua
rakasti sinun pienenä ollessasi. Mutta älä sinä, Yrjö, ketään syytä,
äläkä syntyperääsi soimaa: olet jalosukuinen ja yhtä puhdasrotuinen
kuin parhaimmat ihmisten lapsista, sillä nuori rakkaus on sinut
synnyttänyt, eikä kenelläkään voi olla jalompaa sukuperää.

Huoneessa oli hetkisen hiljaista.

Sinä otit käteni omiisi ja tunsin että ne olivat viileät. Et vielä


nostanut päätäsi, mutta huomasin että verisuonet otsallasi vähitellen
vaalenivat ja suonten tykintä tyyntyi.

Mutta oma tuskani ahdisti vielä mieltäni. Missä olivat ajatukseni


olleet ja missä silmäni? Olin luullut sinun olleen kiinni
tutkintotyössäsi, ja se olikin ollut syrjä-asia sen ankaran
elämäntodellisuuden rinnalla, joka sinua askarrutti. Olin ollut
umpisokea enkä ollut aavistanutkaan, mitä välttämättömimmin olisit
tarvinnut.

Ja valppauteni ja hyvä aikomukseni torjua olivat kärsineet surkean


tappion.

Puhuin sinulle vielä rauhoittavia sanoja, kuten ennen muinoin


huvilamme ullakkokamarissa. Emme välitä siitä mitä ihmiset
sanovat, nyt enempää kuin ennenkään. Meillä on omat tietomme,
joista emme tee heille selvää, eikä kannatakaan heille mitään
selvitellä. Me tiedämme, että polveudut kunniakkaasta suvusta, ja
vaikkei niin olisikaan, niin se ei sanottavasti paina vaa’assa. Sillä
jokaisella on itse asiassa kuitenkin ainoastaan oma kunniansa.
— Pidä pääsi pystyssä, Yrjö poikani — jatkoin puhettani —ja
rakenna sydämeesi alttari isällesi ja äidillesi, vaikket heitä
tunnekaan. Kukapa heidän vaikuttimensa voi tutkia ja heistä tuomion
langettaa! He tekivät sitten minkä voivat — ja varmaa on, etteivät
hekään ole kärsimyksittä päässeet. Muuta ei voi ajatellakaan. Heillä
on ollut hiljaiset hetkensä, heilläkin tuskan hetket — se on varma —
ja vastatkoot he Kaikkivaltiaan edessä itse teoistaan. — Mutta sinä,
Yrjö, sinähän et kuitenkaan ole kodittomana kasvanut.

Puristit hiljaa kättäni ja rinnastasi kohosi syvä ja vapauttava


huokaus.

— Sinä olet kasvanut täällä uusissa olosuhteissa — juttelin sinulle,


itsekin keveämmällä mielellä — ja he elävät siellä, jos elävät. Äitisi
on myöhemmin mennyt naimisiin, en tiedä kenen kanssa. Isäsi
kohtalosta en ole kuullut mitään. Kerran kysyin johtajatar-
diakonissalta, meren takana käydessäni, tietäisikö hän heistä
mitään. Mutta hän vastasi, ettei hän tule koskaan antamaan mitään
tietoja, ja on väärin sellaisia edes pyytääkään. Sillä tuo vanha on
haihdutettava pois kaikkien meidän tietoisuudestamme. He ovat
kuolleet sinulle ja sinä heille. Kun oksa istutetaan uuteen
maaperään, niin sen on kokonaan juurruttava siellä. — Tahtoisitko
heitä etsiä, Yrjö?

— En usko — vastasit tuskin kuuluvasti.

— Jos tahdot, niin teet sen. Oletko milloinkaan ajatellut, että oma
äiti kuitenkin — tarkoitan: oletko tuntenut, etten ole oma äitisi?

— En koskaan. Minun on ollut vaikeata ymmärtää, ettet ole. Olet


ollut sellainen äiti minulle, etten voi käsittää, miten ihmeellinen
mahtaisikaan oma äiti voida olla. Mikä siinä lienee erona?
— Kuka tiennee. Siinä on tietysti tosiasian tietoisuus ja siitä
johtuva turvallisuuden tunne. Siinä voi myöskin olla syvä
olennonyhteys, joka suhdetta syventää, mutta sitä ei ole hetikään
aina. On vaikeata vertailla, kun niin harvalla on samalla kertaa
kokemusta molemmista. Ja vaikka olisikin, niin siinä vaikuttavat niin
monet asianhaarat puolella ja toisella. Oikeastaan uskon että on
suurempi ero mielikuvituksessa kuin todellisuudessa. Sillä
rakkaudessa on monta astetta, ja se riippuu monenmoisista syistä.
— Voit kuvitella äidistäsi mitä haluat, tosiasia on kuitenkin että hän
kielsi sinut. Meille sinä olet kaikki kaikessa — meistä tuntuisi kuin
kiskottaisiin sydän ruumiista, jos me sinut kadottaisimme. Mutta jos
tahdot äitisi löytää, niin emme kiellä. Me rakastamme sinua niin
suuresti, ettemme mitään pelkää.

Niin puhuin. Mutta kuinka raskasta ja luonnotonta sentään olisi


ollut kaikkien näitten vuosien jälkeen, jos olisit tähän ajatukseen
tarttunut!

Olit noussut istumaan vuoteeni laidalle ja pidit minua kädestä.


Kasvosi olivat jo tyyntyneet, jos kohta niissä vielä oli myrskyn jälkiä.

— Suomme sinulle kaiken — jatkoin vielä — mitä onnesi ja


rauhasi kaipaavat. Mutta täytyyhän sinun ajatella asiaa myöskin
heidän kannaltaan…

— Niin, niin — mitäpä minulla oikeastaan on heidän kanssaan


tekemistä?
— Sano, äiti — miten se tapahtui, se — että tulin?

— Äitisi kirjoitti kirjeen, jossa hän sinusta luopui. Ja isäsi kirjoitti


alle.
— Hän luopui minusta? Hän sai kirjoitetuksi, että hän luopui
minusta?

— Niin.

— He saivat molemmat kirjoitetuksi, että he luopuivat minusta?

— Niin.

Näyttäisinköhän sinulle tuon paperin — se oli ainoastaan parin


askeleen päässä tuon laskulevyn takana — tuntisin heti käsialan ja
hiukan kellertävän kuoren — mutta ei, ei — se olisi liian
kouraantuntuvaa — Jumalan kiitos, ettet itse sitä keksinyt.

— Silloin katkesivat samalla siteet keskenämme — sanoit


painokkaasti.

Mutta lausuit sen kuin jos olisit tuntenut suurta vapautusta.

Ja katsoit minua suoraan silmiin lisätessäsi:

— Ja sitä paperia siunaan nyt, sillä sen kautta minulla on ollut koti.
Kun kerran näin oli, niin he eivät voineet antaa minulle suurempaa
lahjaa. Siitä heitä kiitän.

Olit vielä kalpea ja pyyhit nenäliinallasi otsaasi ja käsiäsi. Mutta


ilme kasvoillasi osoitti, että olit päässyt sietämättömästä
painajaisesta.

— Niin, Yrjö — sanoin keventynein mielin — sen tiedän, että


minulle, meille sinä kuulut.

— Sen tunnen minäkin nyt selvemmin kuin koskaan. Ja minulle on


ääretön helpotus, kun nyt tiedän kaikki. Eihän minua ole mikään muu
vaivannutkaan kuin vain tuo epätietoisuus.

Nousit ja kävelit edestakaisin huoneessa. Avasit ikkunan ja


istuuduit ikkunalaudalle.

Oli lakannut satamasta ja aamu jo valkeni.

— Mikset ole aikaisemmin kysynyt tuosta kaikesta?

— Sinähän kerran sanoit — silloin ennen ulkomaanmatkaa — että


saisin tietää lisää täysi-ikäisenä — ylioppilaaksi tultuani, niin sanoit.
— En ole tahtonut ennen kysyä.

— Mutta olisithan toki silti voinut — —

— Kaiketi olen myöskin pelännyt —.

— Mitä?

— Ettei todellisuus vastaisi sitä, mitä olen kuvitellut.

— Ja onko se vastannut?

— Todellisuus on aina parempi — ainakin terveempi — kuin


kuvittelu. Luulee helposti olevansa jotakin ihmeellistä — ja ellei
sitäkään, niin pelkää saavansa kuulla jotakin häpeällistä tai rumaa
syntyperästään.

— Ja olet kärsinyt epävarmuudestasi?

— Paljon olen kärsinyt — viime kuukausina. En ennen. En ole


aikaisemmin tullut sitä niin tuumineeksi. Mutta sen jälkeen kun tulin
ystäväksi Marjan kanssa, enkä voinut hänelle edes sanoa kuka olin!
— En itsekään tiennyt, kuka olin! Se ajatus ajoi vihdoin takaa, niin
että siitä tuli miltei päähänpisto.

— Ja olet Marjan kanssa puhunut siitä?

— Monta kertaa. Vähänväliä.

— Etkä minulle?

— En voi sitä itsekään ymmärtää, miksi olen itseäni niin vaivannut.


Lopuksi oudoksuin sitäkin, että minulla yleensä oli sellaista
kysyttävää, jota ei ollut muilla. Mutta nyt tiedän — ja se tieto
helpottaa sanomattomasti.

Tulit taasen luokseni ja istuuduit vuoteeni laidalle.

— Sano, Yrjö, miksi juuri tänä iltana kysyit?

— Kaiketi sentakia, että tämä ilta oli ikäänkuin koko tähänastisen


elämäni päätekohta — tästä päivästä piti alkaa uusi elämä.

— Puhuitko matkalla Marjalle siitä?

— Puhuin. Hänelle olen viime aikoina puhunut kaikki. Ja hän on


aina kehoittanut minua sinulta kysymään, ja tänä iltanakin hän otti
minulta sen lupauksen.

— Ja saitte olla kahden?

— Saimme — meidän suhteemme ovat kyllä ennallaan. Etkö


ymmärrä, äiti, että itsehän hänestä tänään luovuin — itse toiselle
luovutin — siksi kunnes tämä selviäisi. Siksi kunnes voisin mennä
hänen luokseen sanomaan: niin ja niin se on. Nyt hän on minun
enemmän kuin koskaan ennen.
Vedin syvän tyydytyksen huokauksen:

— Niinpä on kaikki hyvin. Muistatko, Yrjö, kun ennen


lapsuudessasi puhuimme keskenämme näistä aroista asioista, niin
se yhdisti meitä yhä läheisemmin toisiimme. Ja minusta tuntuu kuin
olisi nytkin käynyt samoin, vaikka tämä on ollutkin vaikein hetki, mikä
meillä koskaan on ollut.

Hymyilit vapaata, valoisaa hymyä ja muistellen sinäkin jotakin


entistä sanoit painokkaasti:

— Voitkohan arvata, äiti, kuka on kaikkein paras ystäväni?

Heti tulit silmissäni pieneksi pojaksi jälleen, joka herää ehkä


vaivaavasta unesta hyvään todellisuuteen ja vastasin:

— Kaiketi Erik — tai Väinö — tai Aino — tai —

— Sinähän se olet, äiti — ja Jumala tietysti — mutta pidän vain


hyvin vähän enemmän Jumalasta, sillä täytyyhän Jumalasta vähän
enemmän — — —

Vaikenimme molemmat.

Ikkunalaudalle tippui yksitellen vesipisaroita, ja kottaraiset alkoivat


pesissään liikahdella ja siipiään räpyttäen sirittää. Ja vaalenevana
lepäili ulkona aamuyö.

Me pidimme toisiamme käsistä ja annoimme tämänkin hetken


hiljaa painua menneisyyden helmaan. Ja avonaisen ikkunan kautta
puhalsi aamutuulahdus sisään koivujen tuoksua.

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