Sempre (Forever Series #1)(65)

The room fell silent when he finished the song. “Merry Christmas, bella ragazza.”

She smiled, whispering, “Merry Christmas,” back to him. He stared into her eyes and leaned forward to kiss her when a throat dramatically cleared behind them. He pulled back swiftly. Damn near busted.

“Am I interrupting?” Celia asked, the smile on her lips telling Carmine she knew she was. He started to speak, but Haven ran from the room before he could say anything. He sighed as she disappeared, and Celia sat down beside him on the bench. “So talented.”

He rolled his eyes. “I butchered that song. I haven’t tried to play it in years.”

“Haven thought you played it great.”

“That’s because she’s never heard it before. She thought my f*ck-ups were intentional.”

“You’re being self-deprecating. Your mother was always proud of her little Mozart.”

He didn’t respond. She knew he wouldn’t, though. He never did.

“She recognizes me,” Celia said. “That’s what your father and I were talking about. She saw me when I visited Blackburn.”

Carmine sat still as that sank in. “Did you ever think about helping her when you were there?”

“Believe me, kiddo. I wanted to. I talked to Corrado about it, but it was out of my hands. It’s their business and—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He cut her off. “Keep business and personal separate, the code of conduct, and all that bullshit. I’ve heard it all before.”

“I see you’ve been talking to Salvatore,” she said. “Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a girl hiding somewhere I should have a talk with.”

23

Haven sat on the edge of her bed, feeling out of place. She’d never spoken to Celia before last night, had merely seen her in passing, but her presence made those two worlds converge. Her old life, the one of pain, was mixing with her new life, where she’d finally started to feel comfortable.

It made her uneasy. She wanted that feeling to go away.

There was a light tap on her door. Her stomach felt queasy as she gripped the knob with a sweaty palm. Opening it slowly, she was alarmed to see Celia. “Can I speak to you?”

Haven nodded. Celia took a seat on the bed, and Haven tried to stop her hands from shaking as she sat beside her. “I wanted to tell you a story. Would you be opposed to that?”

A story? “No, ma’am.”

“Back in the seventies, when I was around eleven, an underground war ignited between, uh, groups. Safe houses were set up around the country for men to get their families out of the line of fire. This place was one of them—it was where my father sent us. It also happens to be where we met my husband, Corrado, and his sister, Katrina. Our fathers were friends. Vincent and I never liked Katrina. She’s an evil twit who gets pleasure from hurting people. I’m sure you know that.”

Haven nodded. It was true.

“Corrado was the opposite of his sister. He stayed out of the way and kept to himself. One day we were all out by the creek, and Katrina was throwing rocks at me. Corrado just stood there and watched. We thought he was a pushover. Vincent wouldn’t stand for it, though, and threw a rock back at her. Smacked her in the face and left a big welt.”

Despite herself, Haven smiled.

“Katrina tattled and my mother was about to whip Vincent when Corrado spoke up out of nowhere. This little boy hadn’t said a word for days, and the first time he opened his mouth, he spoke with such authority. He said, ‘You shouldn’t hit him.’ He said a person shouldn’t be punished for protecting their family. My mother was so surprised that she let Vincent go.”

Celia laughed to herself. “That’s my husband. When he speaks, people listen.” She paused. “You’re probably wondering where I’m going with this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I just want you to know I’m not like the people in Blackburn . . . my husband isn’t like them. We too deal with people we don’t want to. It’s something you understand when you involve yourself with a man in this life. They do horrible things—things most women would be ashamed of their husbands doing—but we know it’s ingrained in them, just as things are ingrained in us. I’ve accepted Corrado for who he is, as I’m sure you accept Carmine, bad attitude and all.”

Haven was alarmed at the mention of Carmine and tried to keep her expression blank. “I accept both of the DeMarco boys.”

Celia smiled. “I’m sure you do, Haven. I don’t worry about Dominic. Despite everything, he’s pretty well adjusted, but Carmine’s unique. He has a gentle soul underneath that ugly armor he wears, and it’s nice that someone finally cracked through it.”

Her heart pounded frantically. “He’s . . .” She didn’t know what to say. “. . . different.”

“Yeah, he is,” she said. “Although I think what you mean by that isn’t the same as what I mean. But anyway, I should start dinner.”

Haven jumped up, having forgotten about dinner. It was the reason she’d gone downstairs so early in the first place. “Oh no, I should’ve already done it!”

“Relax. Christmas dinner’s my gig. I look forward to it every year. Your job’s to enjoy yourself today.”