Right as I was about to respond, Scott knocked on the door.
"Stace? Open the door, baby. Talk to me," he said, his sweet voice pulling me in.
Scott Brady was never part of the plan. I was meticulous. Smart. I spent seven years thinking ten moves ahead of Don Angelo. I even kept my distance from my family because if it was just me, if I had no attachments and kept my head low, the dead man's switch could have worked.
Except I did have attachments. I had Scott and everyone he loved. Jenny. Even Collette. Don Angelo was right. I was weak. And it all started with a boy with cute dimples, pretty eyes and annoyingly soft curls. Everything went to shit the moment I met him. He reminded me just how much I'd always craved love.
"Stacy, come on. I know you have had a rough life and obviously I don't have a clue what going through half of that must have been like. But I know you and baby your mom doesn't know what she's talking about. You're not your father. You're warm and beautiful. A captivating light in the darkness. That's why everybody can't help but fall madly in love with you," he said and it worked, because I dropped the phone and went to unlock the door for him.
"Hey," he said, gently taking my face into his hands when he saw me, his lips spreading into that same smile that had broken many hearts. "Want to talk over some ice cream?"
"Does everyone include you, Scott?" I asked him.
I had no idea where I was going with this. The smart thing to do was leave. Tell Luca to come and get me. But he said the word love and suddenly I was eighteen again, and it was that first night when he walked me to my sorority. All I wanted was for him to kiss me before he left.
"Bella?" Luca's voice filled the room, the phone having switched to speaker mode when I dropped it.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked, looking over my shoulder at the phone on the ground.
"Are you there?" Luca asked.
One look at my face and Scott knew exactly what he'd walked in on.
"Absolutely not," he said, indignation flashing in his eyes.
He moved me aside so he could enter the room, picked up the phone and ended the call.
"We still have time," he said, trying to convince me. "Frankie's going to call any minute now—"
"No he isn't. No we don't. Collette is right. I belong in the mafia. I am Stacy Luciano, daughter of Don Angelo, bookkeeper to the five families. I don't get this life, Scott. I don't get you," I said, my voice cold. "This is happening."
"Okay. Just one thing," he said, his nostrils flaring as he laid the phone down on the side table. "If you marry Luca, will you talk to him deep into the night like there's no tomorrow like we do?"
There was no right answer to that question and I was already starting to feel the ice wall around my heart thaw, so I kept my mouth shut. I just had to get out of this room in one piece. One little step and I'd be out the door.
Of course one little step was hard to take when Scott Brady came to you and took your hand.
"Will you let him hold your hand when something goes wrong?" he asked, squeezing my hand as he brought his lips up to my ear. "Or kiss your lips when you're happy?"
I turned around slowly, taking him in. He was pissed, but the yearning in his voice told a different story.
"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" I said, my mind turning against me.
Maybe I was making a mistake.
"Would you let him touch you?" he asked, his hands gripping the hem of my shirt.
I already knew where this was going. My arms went up reflexively. He hesitated, struggling with his breathing, but ultimately lifted my shirt up and over my head.
"You know I wouldn't," I said, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
He just stood there, watching me take his shirt off. I ran my fingers over his torso, letting go of the anger and hurt caused by seeing Collette. He grabbed me by the waist and spun me around, forcing my back up against his front. One of his hands trailed up my body, settling on a breast, while the fingers of his other hand slid down into the front of my pants and into my panties.
"Here's the real question," he said, nuzzling my neck.
"You'll get over me. You'll do better next time. She won't be a mafia princess," I said, and he sunk his teeth into my neck.
"You don't understand how hard it's been to find you. Do you? " he said with a growl, licking and blowing on the bite mark. "You matter, Stacy. You matter to me."
His fingers rubbed between my folds in little circles, then he slipped a finger into me. His movements were so gentle, you'd never know how furious he was but for his heavy breathing and the tone of his voice.
"Scott," I moaned his name, throwing my head back against his chest.
He withdrew his fingers from my panties, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans.
"Back to that question, Stace," he said, pulling my jeans down along with my panties.
Once he got to my ankles, I stepped out of them as if on autopilot. He closed the door behind us and I knew I had lost. I wasn't going anywhere. At least not for the next hour.
"Are you ready to say another man's name when you're horny, Stace?" he said, unhooking my bra from behind me.
His hands came forward, his fingers sliding in under the bra cups. He was so loving when he massaged my breasts, I almost convinced myself that the anger I heard in his voice wasn't there.
"Scott," I
called out again.
Your name is all I know. All I've ever wanted to say.