Taken - A Gangster Stepbrother Romance (6 page)

Chapter Nine

              The next day at breakfast, Antonio informed her they would be attending Hastings this coming Saturday evening. She had found a calendar in her room and saw that today was Thursday. What would she do in the meantime? She couldn’t possibly just stay in her room for the next two days.

              But Antonio had been in a rush and before she could ask what it is she was expected to do for the next forty eight hours, he had left. Emma was beginning to feel quite claustrophobic in her room. Sure it was large but it was a prison cell nonetheless.

              After breakfast, Emma expected a guard to come over and escort her back to her room. But instead, the guard remained standing by the dining room entry. She was sure he knew the meal was over and yet he hadn’t come to take her.

              Curious and a little bit hopeful, Emma stood up from the table and instead of turning right towards the staircase and her room, she turned left. She half-expected a large hand to grab her shoulder and to stop her. But instead, nothing happened. When she turned around, she found the guard following her a few steps behind but in no hurry to catch up to her.

             
Huh.
So it looked like she had earned some freedom privileges. As she walked down the wide hall, she spotted a room at the far end. It was unique because of its double doors.

              Hands on the large door handles, Emma looked over her shoulders to see if the guard would stop her. But he just stood back. He looked bored.
I guess no one is stupid enough to leave anything out in the open for me to take a look at anyway
, Emma realized.

              Opening the double doors with a dramatic flourish, Emma’s eyes grew as round as saucers as she took in the deep interior of the room.

              It was a library! A personal library that had been beautifully decorated with soft, comfy couches and a cozy fireplace. The walls were lined with shelves that held every single kind of book possible. She was shocked to think a mobster like Gabe Del Marco would be such an avid reader. Antonio looked like he was well educated so perhaps the library was mostly his collection.

              Either way, this meant she finally had a way to escape her own thoughts. She did two laps around the room to get a good idea of what books were available. She finally settled on a well-worn mystery and tucked herself in on one of the couches near the window.

              It was easier than she imagined to let herself go and sink into the wonderful world of a fiction novel. Desperate to escape the twisting coils of her mind and her troubles, Emma was ready and open to let the characters take over her brain and let her in on their story and life.

              She didn’t know how many hours had passed as she read but soon the light was much dimmer. Emma looked out the window and saw the orange light casting a beautiful glow over the large manicured lawn.

              Antonio was still out. She hadn’t yet heard him return from whatever business it was that he did. Lowering the book, she instead rested her chin on the sofa back and stared out at the window, losing herself in the deep blues and golds of the sky.

             
Knock knock!

              Emma’s head snapped up.

              A man who looked just as surprised as she did was standing at the door. He looked to be about in his late forties. He had brush of salt and pepper hair that was kept closely cropped. He wore a formal three piece suit which was always an unusual sight in California. But the lines on his face were kind and his blue eyes twinkled with good humor.

              “Can I help you?” Emma asked, wondering who this man was and why he looked like he was fighting back a pleased smile.

              The smile won and the man gave her a warm one as he looked her over. “Well, so you’re the Del Marco sister,” he said as if relieved and happy.

              Emma stiffened. She still did not identify with that name and was sure she never would. “I’m Emma,” she answered.

              The man nodded then raised his brow, silently asking permission to enter. Emma nodded slowly.

              “I’d always been curious about what you would look like or sound like,” the man said as he took a seat on the couch opposite her. “My name is Steven Wells. I’m chief legal counsel at DM Holdings.”

              “Oh,” Emma said as if that made complete sense. “Er…how do you know who I am?”

              Steven gave her another warm grin. “Well, I didn’t know who I’d find in the library. All I saw was the light on and the doors open and it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that,” he said, his eyes clouding over a little. But they brightened almost immediately once he looked her over again. “But once I saw you in here, I knew you were little Emma.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry. You have to excuse me. I’m so used to hearing you called ‘little Emma’ that I forget you’re a woman now.”

              Emma stared at the man, perplexed. No one in her life had ever called her ‘little Emma.’ Ever. “Who calls me that?”

              Steven’s face took on an expression of instant understanding as he realized how little Emma actually was aware of. “Well, your father at first. Gabe was always calling you that,” he said. Emma tried not to flinch at hearing the mobster’s name used as her father. “And then Tony called you that as well up until a few short years ago.”

              Emma began to regard this man under a different light. This was the first person to speak to her kindly while also divulging information. “You knew both Gabe and Antonio Del Marco?”

              Steven nodded. “I’ve worked with the Del Marco family for years now. I met Gabe when he was trying to build some kind of munitions factory out in the Inland Empire. I told him it would never work and as plans came together, he saw that it wouldn’t either. Since then, he would get in contact with me every so often for some legal counsel or advice.” The lawyer smiled. “I was there when Gabe married Phyllis. And I was one of the first to hold Tony when he came home from the hospital.”

              Emma was in awe. This man seemed like a good and kind person and yet he spoke of the notorious Del Marco men as if they were family. And
good
family too.

              Steven looked around the library as if reacquainting himself with an old familiar friend. “So how do you like the house so far? Settling in alright?” he asked.

              Emma choked on a laugh. “Not exactly,” she said. She wondered how much she could trust this man.

              Steven looked at her with concern before his face melted into an expression of warm understanding. “Tony can be a little rough around the edges but that can only be expected with little Emma,” he said wryly.

              “Why? Why with me?” she asked.

              “He didn’t tell you?” Steven asked, surprised. “He didn’t tell you about the trust? The Grants?”

              Emma scowled. “Oh,” she said. “You mean how Gabe Del Marco bribed my grandparents to take me in?”

              Steven looked shocked. “My girl! Far from it! Even though you were his adopted daughter, Gabe fell in love with you from the moment he saw you. From the start, you were his little Emma. And it broke his heart to send you away after your mother’s tragic passing.” His eyes seemed to glisten a little with tears. But he blinked and continued his story. “But Gabe knew it was the right thing. He knew that he couldn’t completely guarantee your safety under his roof. And even though foster care was difficult, the fact that you were constantly moving meant no one could keep tabs on your for long. It was an additional measure of safety.”

              Emma shook her head, surprised to hear this new expanded version of her past. “But my grandparents…the Grants. They eventually adopted me,” she said. “He”—Emma felt it too intimate to call Antonio by his given name—“said that Gabe eventually located the Grants and convinced them to take me in.”

              Steven chuckled to himself. “Tony said that, did he?” he said. “Oh goodness, far be it for an old man like me to put my nose in someone else’s business but I think this is something you should know.” He gave her a level gaze. “Your father wanted to keep you in foster care. He thought it would be safer for you. But it was Antonio who had argued for your adoption by the Grants. He said it would be unfair to keep you suffering in the state’s care for so long. If only for a few years, you should know what having a family was like.”

              It felt as if a softball had been thrown at her gut. Antonio Del Marco had
cared
about her?

              “He watched over you for years,” Steven said, his blue eyes creased with warmth. “He had even set up that sizeable trust for you. I drew the papers for it. Your father by then was too broken to really think of such things.”

              Emma swallowed dryly. “Sizeable?” she asked. She had always thought the trust had been set up by the Grants. So she had assumed it was a modest one. After graduating with her undergraduate degree, Emma had stopped taking payments from her trust to save what little was remaining for when she was thirty. She figured the amount might be enough to maybe put as a down on a car or something and she didn't want to spend it all away when she could just as easily work and make money.

              Steven nodded. “Yes. It was a trust that would cover your education and living costs until you graduated and then you would have complete access when you turned thirty. Ten million dollars. Not a bad way to start a life,” Steven grinned.

              Ten million dollars?! Emma’s eyes widened. She had thought at most, there would be five, maybe ten, thousand dollars in it. But ten
million!
Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever imagined such a sum.

              “He was always keeping an eye on you,” Steven continued. “Donating money to the social services program at USC when you enrolled so that you would have the best education possible. Making sure your graduate school hired the best professors. He certainly was fanatical when it came to his Emma.” He gave a little chuckle.

Emma’s mind reeled. She did remember a big announcement of an anonymous donation during her freshman year at USC to the school of social services which had caused a big wave since that was not a popular program to garner donations. She remembered the engineering student and chemistry students grumbling that they should’ve received the donation instead.

And as she entered her graduate program, at the orientation, there was a huge introduction of a new and highly decorated professor that had come over from Stanford University.

Emma had always figured them to be lucky coincidences, a way for the universe to pay her back for her years of struggle before.

Steven sighed, slapping his hands on his thighs. “It’s a shame that only now you’re finally meeting,” he said.

Emma looked up. “You know why I’m here?”

“The Cavalli marriage,” Steven answered. “Yes, of course, I know.” The lawyer rose and gave a small wistful smile. “It’s just a shame though. It would’ve been nice for Tony to have more time with you. Then who knows? Maybe he could see then—” He shook his head with a wry smile. “Ah well. It was very nice to meet you, Miss Del Marco. I’ll see myself out.”

Maybe he could see what?

Chapter Ten

              “Now look up,” the make up artist said as she swiped a small brush under Emma’s bottom lashes.

              Emma looked up and caught sight of Tyrell pulling her long brunette hair up into an elegant chignon. Out of his lips poked out several large bobby pins. He looked like he had kissed the back of a porcupine.

              “Ok, girl,” Sharon said, smiling, still holding several make up brushes in one hand. “Wanna take a look and see how gorgeous you are?”

              Mindful of Tyrell putting the final pins in her hair, Emma carefully turned her head towards the vanity mirror. Tonight was the night of Hastings Charity Gala. Antonio had told her that they would be leaving at 7 PM, sharp. At five, Sharon and Tyrell had shown up with a suitcase full of make up brushes and hairspray and a long garment bag that apparently held the gown Antonio had purchased for her.

              Emma was normally not one for make up. The most she had ever dabbled with was a little mascara and lip gloss. But living in Lynwood, she knew it was better to look as plain as possible so she had quickly abandoned her meager make up collection.

              But looking in the mirror now, Emma fully appreciated what make up could do. Staring back at her were large brown eyes that were feathered with long dark lashes that could nearly cast shadows on her cheeks. Her naturally fair skin looked like porcelain with only a hint of rose blush. Her full lips were expertly sculpted and painted a pinkish nude. All of this was finished with an elegantly large chignon at the top of her head. She looked like photoshop had made out with her face in the best possible way.

              “Oh I think she likes it,” Sharon said teasingly. “Girl, you need to start thinking about modeling. I have some photographers I know who’d love to shoot that face.”

              Feeling slightly unhinged, Emma nearly laughed at Sharon’s phrasing.
Trust me, Sharon. There
definitely
are people who want to shoot me in the face. But I’m actually trying to
avoid
those people.

              Unzipping the garment bag, Tyrell pulled out something peach colored and very chiffony. He turned around with the dress. Grinning, he said, “Alright, honey. Get on up. We need to get you into this
gor
geous gown!”

              Thirty minutes later, Emma was walking down the grand staircase. The gown had, of course, been a perfect fit. It was a peach chiffon ball gown with a crystal studded belt to match. It was beautiful and most definitely the most expensive thing Emma had ever worn on her body. Along with the dress, a pink sapphire and diamond necklace and bracelet had also been draped on her. Emma felt like a fairytale princess.              

              As she put her hand on the stair rail and took her first step down, she caught the silvery gray eyes of Antonio Del Marco. Standing in the grand foyer, he cut a lethal picture. Tall and dangerous, he wore an impeccably tailored black suit that seemed to gleam. His crisp white shirt offset the darkness of his hair. He looked like elegant brutality. It took Emma’s breath away.

              If she was the princess, Antonio was not her prince. He was the wicked knight, the dark soldier, who came at night to steal a maiden away.

              And as she slowly descended, Antonio’s gaze never left her. He had seemed surprised at first seeing her and then his eyes had warmed over and had taken on a more…appreciative stare. Was he admiring her? Was that glow in his hard gaze admiration?

              Once she had reached the foyer, she stood in front of Antonio, unsure what she was to say or do.

              He finally cleared his throat and nodded. “You look beautiful,” he said gruffly, before motioning to a guard that they were ready to leave.

              Emma wondered how she could possibly blush from a compliment from the man who currently held her life in his hands.

***

              “Tell them you went to USC and what you studied, if they ask,” Antonio instructed. “No need to lie there. Just tell them you were interested in eventually working in the non-profit sector.”

              Emma tried not to snort. Who would believe a mob boss’s daughter would want to work in the non-profit sector?
Oh sorry about all the drugs and guns we sold. How about I work at a soup kitchen for a weekend to make it up?
She wisely kept the thought to herself.

              Behind Antonio, the city lights flashed by the limo windows. Judging by how long they had been driving, Emma realized they weren’t that far from the city after all. She was quite sure now that the Del Marco house was in Malibu.

              Since getting into the limo, Antonio had been giving her firm instructions on how to introduce herself to the guests that would be attending the event. She would be causing quite an uproar by debuting as the never before heard of Del Marco daughter and Antonio wanted to make sure she had her story straight.

              Although Emma still didn’t want to accept her Del Marco connections or her even aid in the sham of a marriage Antonio was setting up for her, she still felt a knot of nervousness in the pit of her stomach as they drew closer and closer to the Gala.

              She had grown up as a nobody. She was more familiar and comfortable in a ratty studio apartment that echoed with gunshots than in a beautiful gown and diamonds. She was sure everyone at the event would take one look at her and see her for the fraud she really was.

             
That wouldn’t be so terrible though, would it?
If people saw her for who she really was, then Antonio’s plans to foist her off on some strange gangster would crumble and maybe she could go back to her life again, brushing this whole incident off as some odd and crazy fantasy.

              But Emma remembered that warm, appreciative glow in Antonio’s eyes as she had walked down the stairs. She remembered the tingling warmth that had bloomed in her belly as she stepped down into the foyer.

              She didn’t want to disappoint him.

              It was crazy. But she realized she honestly didn’t want to disappoint Antonio. Before she could get a chance to mentally harangue herself for acting like a crazy person, Antonio interrupted her thoughts.

              “And people will expect a closeness between us, as siblings,” he said, his voice wry with humor at the last two words. “So try and show an ease between us. A relationship, essentially.”

              Emma must’ve looked quite skeptical at the request. Antonio’s lips quirked. He leaned towards her, his spicy cologne tingling her senses. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you look head over heels for your big brother.” He gave her a quick rakish wink.

              Emma didn’t know if she wanted to blush or smack him over the head.

              In any case, she didn’t get a chance to do either. The limo pulled into a line of cars, waiting to drop off their elite guests. Emma was
sure
she had just seen a famous actor walk out of the car in front of theirs.

              As the limo pulled up to the drop off point, an attendant opened the door. Antonio extended a hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart,” Antonio said, grinning for the first time. Emma shakily put her hand in his, feeling like her heart would jump through her chest.

              But his large hand closed over hers and pulled her out in the sea of flashing lights.