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The Holy Ghost Page 3


  I let out a deep breath and stood up. Ciro already had the whiskey bottle in his outstretched hand for me as I grabbed it and drank straight from the bottle. I knew I was going to pay for this tomorrow because, like Luca and Ciro, we didn’t drink to get drunk. We always had to have our wits about us, and that was nonnegotiable. So, since I wasn’t a heavy drinker, I could see a hangover meeting me first thing tomorrow.

  The bottle was held tight in my hand as it hung at my side. I looked over at Luca. “Okay.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. Again, he wasn’t asking me for permission. He was letting me know he was bringing Frankie back. And, knowing Frankie, I knew she was going to come running once she found out why she was needed. She loved Massimo just as much as the rest of us.

  I stared at Luca and I knew he already knew what I was going to say. He could see it written all over my face, just as I’m sure Ciro could. “She doesn’t get to leave,” I told him. “She can come back to see Massimo, but she doesn’t get to go back to Cedar Creek, Luca.”

  Luca’s expression remained stoic as Ciro mumbled, “Bloody hell.”

  Luca finally gave me a tight nod and said, “I figured as much.” He let out a rare chuckle. “I’ll also let you be the one to tell her.”

  “Thank God,” Ciro burst out. I turned to look at him. His brows shot up. “What?” he asked. “This is Frankie we’re talking about. The fuck I’m going to be the one to tell her she isn’t going back home. And we’ll be up to our ears in bullshit if she ups and kills Luca for telling her, so, yeah, thank God it’s not me.”

  “You’re a dick.”

  “Maybe,” he conceded. “But it won’t be my balls gripped like a vise in her fucking hands.”

  Ignoring Ciro, I turned back to Luca. I barely survived letting her walk away the first time, there’s no way I’d survive it a second time. I knew it and so did Luca and Ciro. “You can’t interfere,” I insisted. I was talking to him as both a friend and our Underboss. Luca and Frankie had been tight. They had a bond that no one could deny. If she went running to Luca, begging for freedom, and he gave the order to let her leave, I’d have to let her. Or die for disobeying a Benetti’s order. He knew it and I knew it.

  “You have my word, Phoenix,” he replied. “But only because I know Francesca still loves you. Her time of running is over, and she needs to be back where she belongs.”

  “How do you know she still loves me?”

  “Because it’s been six years, Phoenix. She hasn’t been on one date in six fucking years. The girl still loves you. She just happens to still be pissed off.”

  “Or she knows that if word got back to Nix that she was dating someone, the poor fuck would end up six feet under,” Ciro chimed in. “I mean, the girl’s not stupid.”

  “Thanks, Ciro,” I remarked, flipping him off.

  Luca smirked. “It doesn’t matter if she still loves him or not. The tides are turning, gentlemen, and it’s time for Francesca to come home.”

  Her Highness was finally coming home.

  And it was about fucking time.

  Chapter 4

  Francesca~

  Five more minutes until my break. Wednesdays were just as slow as Tuesdays, so it felt pointless to take a break, but our shift manager was very adamant about following labor laws. That being said, I made a quick round of my section and informed everyone that I’d be taking a break soon, but Sabrina would help them should they need anything before I got back.

  I had just walked into the back and was about to take my apron off when Mona walked into the employee break area. “Hey, Frankie.”

  “Hey, Mona.”

  “I know you’re on break, but there’s a guy out there insisting that he be waited on by you.”

  What?

  My brows furrowed. “Is it Edmond?”

  Mona shook her head. “No, it’s not. But I gotta tell you, girl, if you don’t serve him, I sure as hell will,” she replied. “The man is tall, dark, handsome, and more.”

  My stomach dipped as I froze in the middle of untying my apron. “What?”

  Moan fanned herself in true dramatic fashion. “The man is gorgeous, Frankie. Dark hair and black fucking eyes. I mean, have you ever seen someone with black eyes? They’re fucking stunning.”

  My heart stopped in resignation.

  I’ve only seen two men in my life whose gazes were as black as evil, and that was Luca and Giovanni Benetti. Even Luca’s two younger brothers, Leo and Sal, didn’t have the Giovanni Benetti black eyes. Only Luca. Leo and Sal had their mother’s eyes, mossy green. And while they looked like Benettis through and through, Luca was the only one who resembled his father one hundred percent.

  “He’s insisting on me?”

  “Yeah. I told him you were going on break, and he said that was perfect. Which made no sense,” she replied, confused a bit.

  If I had any doubt it was Luca before, I didn’t now. The only question was what was he doing here?

  I took off my apron to lessen the odds of us being interrupted. I told my tables I was on break, but if they saw me out there in my apron, they might believe I was still in service-mode.

  I plastered on a fake smile. “Okay. Thanks, Mona.”

  As I went to walk past her, she grabbed me by my shoulders. “No, seriously, Frankie. Find out if that man is single and, if so, put in a good word for me. Good Lord,” she praised.

  “Sure thing, Mona.” Not. Even if Luca were single, I wouldn’t do that to Mona. I wouldn’t sign her up for a life that I knew she couldn’t mold herself to fit into.

  As soon as I stepped out from the kitchens, I saw him. He was sitting at a booth, his back up against the wall, his eyes scanning the restaurant. He made sure to choose a booth with no window and made sure it was one that gave him the perfect view of the entire place and the people in it.

  Some things never change.

  He didn’t smile or stand up or anything as I walked towards the booth. That black gaze Mona had fallen in love with stayed glued to mine until I sat down on the opposite side of the booth. It’s been six years, and the beautiful boy I once shared so many secrets with had grown up to be a heartbreakingly gorgeous man.

  Luca’s hair was still black as coal, short on the sides, but long enough everywhere else that it’d be no problem for some lucky girl to run her fingers through it. His brows were just as dark, thick, and arched. His eyes were so black, you couldn’t see where the color began, and where the pupil ended. Gone was any softness that once marked him as a boy. Now his face was all hard angles and a strong jaw. He looked like he was carved from stone. And I knew without a doubt his body was in prime condition underneath that expensive suit he was wearing. All the Benetti men were as conditioned as soldiers in their prime. Luca Benetti was six-foot-two-inches of pure, unstoppable muscle.

  As a boy, Luca had been beautiful.

  As a man, he was breathtaking.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Luca leaned in and placed his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together. He didn’t quite smirk, but there was something in his expression. “Is that your way of telling me you haven’t missed me?”

  I almost cried.

  I almost cried because I did miss my friend. I missed him terribly. That’s the thing about running away. Your memories and emotions go with you, so it ends up just becoming geography.

  I cleared my throat of the emotions that threatened to take over. “What are you doing here, Luca?” I repeated. I didn’t want to talk about how much I missed him. I’d lose it for sure if I did.

  This time he did smirk.

  Then he straightened his imposing frame and pinned me with that dark gaze he uses to cripple people with. “Massimo has cancer,” he said, his voice betraying nothing. He might as well have been talking about the weather. But that didn’t bother me. I knew Luca felt, and I knew he felt deeply.

  I, however, hadn’t been able to master Luca’s level of aloofness. “What?”

  “It’s true, France
sca. Massimo has cancer. Stage-four.” Luca is the only person who calls me Francesca. He’s never called me Frankie. I’ve always been Francesca to him.

  My eyes watered, but I didn’t care. Massimo had been one of the most stable things in our lives, and he was vital to the children of Silver Heights. He saved so many lives with his unconditional love and support of the worst of us.

  “I…I…”

  Luca took pity on me, and I didn’t take his kindness lightly. We may have been best friends once, but Luca was still Luca. “He was diagnosed earlier this year,” he said, explaining. “He had two choices. He could fight the good fight or surrender peacefully when the time came.”

  “Did chemo not w…work, or something?”

  “He declined chemo treatment, Francesca. He didn’t want the final days of his life to be riddled with treatments, weakness, and agony when he’s as old as he is.”

  Before I could comment, Robbie walked up to our table. “Good Afternoon. May I get you guys something to drink? Eat?”

  Luca didn’t spare her a glance which told me he had at least two of his men in the restaurant with us for him not to acknowledge her approach. “Nothing for me, thank you.”

  I looked up at her. “I’m…I’m good, Robbie. My break isn’t that much longer, anyway.”

  Her face was full of concern, but she didn’t push. “Okay. No problem,” she replied, and I knew she was going to demand an explanation later.

  Luca didn’t speak again until she was out of earshot. “He’s almost eighty-years-old, Francesca. He didn’t want to put his body through an ordeal it might not survive. He chose to go the way of dying naturally, and he didn’t tell anyone because he didn’t want any of his kids to worry.”

  The tears I was holding in finally fell free.

  His kids.

  “Oh, God…” I brokenly whispered.

  “Massimo was admitted into the hospital last week and that’s when he could no longer keep his secret. Everyone from the neighborhood has been visiting him, reminiscing, and saying their final goodbyes,” he said.

  I shook my head, then grabbed a napkin from the napkin dispenser to dry my eyes and keep snot from running down my face. “Final goodbyes?”

  Luca’s face softened and it was a rare sight to behold. “He only has a few days left, Francesca. A week at the most.”

  “Oh, Luca…how…” I didn’t even know what I wanted to ask him. The idea of Massimo suffering his secret alone was heartbreaking, but not surprising. He always protected us kids.

  And then Luca got to the reason he was here. “I see him every day, Francesca,” he said. “And the last time I was with him he asked me about you.” I gasped in surprise, but then in shame. In the six years that I’ve been gone from Morgan City, I never once checked in on Massimo. I left him behind, along with everyone else, when I left town. “He wants to see you before he passes. You’re the only person left from the neighborhood that hasn’t gone to see him.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I replied, shame flooding my entire being.

  “I don’t expect you to say anything,” he retorted. “I’m not here to tell you Massimo is dying, Francesca. I’m here to tell you that I will be here when your shift is over and you’re going back to Morgan City with me.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to issue an automatic refusal, but I wisely caught myself in time. There’s no way I’d deny a dying man’s last wish. And, even if I were heartless enough to do something that vile, there’s no way Luca would let me. Luca was here for exactly what he said he was here for. He was taking me back, whether peacefully or by my hair, and I didn’t blame him one bit.

  “O…okay,” I agreed. “I…uhm, my shift ends at-”

  “At five, I know,” he interrupted, and I hated that he knew that. I also wasn’t surprised that he did.

  “Can…can I go home and change first?” I hated asking him for permission, but I was smart enough to realize the boy I knew was not the man sitting before me. Once upon a time, I could have sworn Luca Benetti would never harm me, but now? It’s possible six years has turned the Luca Benetti I once knew into an entirely different person.

  “You may,” he allowed. “However, since we don’t have time for bullshit, your bag will already be packed and ready to go.” He eyed me in a way that issued a dare my way, but my mind was primarily on Massimo and hoping I wasn’t too late to say goodbye.

  “Bag?”

  Luca jerked his head towards the openness of the restaurant. “Today’s Wednesday. It’s been arranged that you will be off the next few days for a family emergency. It’s all been arranged, and you will be back to work on Monday.”

  My schedule wasn’t a set schedule, but Leda, the restaurant manager, usually scheduled me on the weekends. I was a good waitress, and she knew I enjoyed working the weekends. “Luca, I need to work. That’s too many days off. Maybe I can go see him today and go back…” I trailed off as Luca leaned closer and narrowed his eyes at me.

  “If you need money, I’ll provide that for you, Francesca, but let’s get one thing clear.” I’d swallow if my mouth hadn’t gone complete dry. “If that man wants you sitting by his bedside every hour of the rest of his days, then that’s what you will fucking do. Am I clear?”

  His words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. Shame was a hurtful wave throughout my body. Even if I couldn’t afford it, Massimo was dying and here I was complaining about something as trifling as money. I let out a deep breath, hoping to release my shame along with it. “Of course.”

  Luca didn’t grace me with any more conversation. He simply stood up, gave me a kiss on the top of my head, and walked out, taking three other random patrons with him.

  I stayed in the booth until Robbie came to get me, and the entire time I couldn’t think of anything but Massimo. But as the clock ticked down to the end of my shift, another name crossed my mind.

  Phoenix.

  Chapter 5

  Phoenix~

  Back to Luca, Ciro, and I being rarely seen together at the same time, we staggered our visits to see Massimo. Even though Luca’s security was topnotch, we still didn’t like to chance it. We knew what the city called us, and it would be the ultimate show of power to take out The Holy Trinity all at once.

  Luca was called The Father for obvious reasons. He was destined to take over the Benetti Family one day and there was no doubt he planned on running it with an iron fist. Even now, Giovanni was more of a figurehead than the actual head of the family. Luca ran the show, and we all knew he’d be in charge of the entire empire before he even hits thirty-five. He was only thirty now.

  Ciro was called The Son because he might as well be the Son of God where the Benetti Family was concerned. Luca had trusted Ciro early on; since we were kids, really. But six years of getting dirty and filthy in ways that would made hardened murderers weep, Ciro earned his place next to Luca. Ciro was also referred to as The Son because, out of the three of us, he was the most likely to play with his food and throw a tantrum, but those moniker characteristics were only shared by me and Luca. No one else knew Ciro drove us crazy sometimes with his hotheadedness.

  And I was called The Holy Ghost because I was invisible.

  I felt it deep in my soul, too.

  There was also a fourth member, she just didn’t know it. The streets of Morgan City referred to Frankie as Church. Growing up, we never downplayed how much Frankie Mancini meant to the three of us, and so almost everyone knew there was nothing we wouldn’t do for her. Her leaving Morgan City hadn’t changed that and everyone just got to calling her Church. She was our sacred place, and she was the only female the three of us worshiped.

  It’s the reason why we agreed to all be present when Luca brought her back to see Massimo. Ciro wasn’t going to miss out on the chance to see his sister again after all these years, and I was here to drag her the fuck home with me after her visit with Massimo. I knew she wouldn’t go peacefully, but I didn’t care. I actually wanted her to fight me. I h
ad six years of pent-up anger in me, and I loved the idea of taking it all out on her. I’d drag her by her motherfucking hair if I had to and I knew Ciro nor Luca would stop me. Frankie might be Ciro’s sister, and she might be Luca’s best friend, but I was her other half and both men knew it. They’d never interfere unless she was in real, actual danger.

  I had just finished checking the en suite attached to my bedroom to make sure Frankie had everything she’d need while she was here when my phone rang. “What’s up?”

  “Luca said he’d have her there around seven,” Ciro answered. “I figured we’d give her and Massimo a couple of hours to themselves before we showed up there.”

  Even with the heads-up from Luca yesterday, it was still hard to wrap my mind around the fact that Frankie was coming back. I’ve waiting six years for her and these last twenty-four hours have been hell. Ciro wanting to wait two more hours to see her sounded reasonable, but they were two more additional painful hours for me.

  “Luca’s going to have the hour drive from Cedar Creek to Morgan City to play catch up with Frankie, how many hours do you need before I get her?” Ciro and Frankie’s parents died in a car wreck when they were young and that made Frankie Ciro’s only blood family left. It crushed him when she left. I might have felt alone, but Ciro had felt abandoned. He survived the same way I did; by Luca keeping tabs on her.

  Ciro chuckled into the phone. “I just want to see her, Nix,” he said. “You can take her home and fight it out. If you’re both still alive tomorrow, I’ll stop by then.”

  “Really?” I asked surprised.

  “Phoenix, seriously,” he laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the shit that’s going to go down when you two finally come together. I figure she’s going to need me tomorrow to help her pick up the pieces more than she’ll need me tonight.” He was right. “I’ll stop by tomorrow, so you can leave to cool down, and she can pour her heart out to me. Or help her hide your body.”

  I snorted. “You’re delusional if you think she’s not still pissed off at you, too,” I pointed out. “The only reason she didn’t claw Luca’s eyes out is because he wasn’t the one who lied to her and betrayed her. He kept our secrets, but then, she never asked him what was going on.”