I know I’m being unfair, and I know had Monti done what our mother asked, I would simply have been passed off to the next man she plunked from the pack. But still.
I can’t seem to let it go, not yet.
Monti sets her drink down, pulling a long silver box with a small red bow from her bag, and sets it in the space between us.
My eyes lift to hers and she half smiles. “I was going to give this to you last night, but you never came home.”
I eye the box, bringing my warm drink to my lips. “What is it?”
“A gift.”
I look to her with a blank expression, and she chuckles, then she takes a heavy breath.
“I owe you more than I’ve given you,” she tells me, pulling the top off of the box to reveal what’s inside.
I stare at the small copper key, knowing exactly where it fits.
“Where did you get that?”
“I stole it,” she admits. “I snuck into Mom’s office back in Florida the night before she sent me here. If I was coming home, I knew I had to take it with me.”
I grind my teeth together, closing my eyes.
“Gifts can change your life, Jameson, but in order for that to happen, you have to be willing to accept them and decide if you’re ready for what’s on the other side, because there will be no going back.”
My gaze snaps to hers, and a slow frown builds when she tucks my hair behind my ear, a sad smile on her lips.
I clench my teeth, fighting back my words.
My sister and I don’t speak like this; we don’t open up and share things between us, but she’s here now, trying.
Would it kill me to try too?
I take another small sip.
“You’re a Filano,” she says simply. “We never lose.”
“You lost, Monti,” I remind her. “Mom and Dad will hardly look at you. I’m... apparently more pissed off at you than I realized.” Guilt weighs on me, but it’s the truth and I didn’t see it until emotions I buried began to resurface with a vengeance.
“Like I said” —tears soften her tone and I retreat a little— “there’s no going back. I made a choice, and to be honest, it’s really, really hard,” she cries, looking away as her hand comes up to dab at her eyes. “But I would be lying if I said it was the wrong one.”
She sniffles, turning back to me. “I’m fucked up, J. I know that. I still kill myself trying to find perfection and I know it’s some sick and twisted mommy and daddy issues. I might never be ‘okay,’ if I’m being honest. Who knows, but what I do know is you’re stronger than I am, Jameson,” she whispers, and my chest tightens.
“You’re a force, sister.” She leans forward, locking our eyes for a long, hard moment. “Maybe it’s time to let every asshole know how fierce you really are.”
I swallow, set my cup down and stand, her eyes trailing me as I walk over to my bedroom door and open it.
I turn to her.
“I could do that, but I won’t.” I open the door and step to the side. “I do believe you were brave to take your life into your own hands, Monti. I know that took courage, but I can’t be so selfish. I would ruin someone in a way you don’t understand if I were.”
Monti lowers her eyes to the floor, making her way to me.
She pauses beside me, her eyes full of moisture, cheeks tear-stained. She smiles lovingly.
“See,” she whispers. “You’re stronger than me. You don’t want to ruin anyone else, so instead, you’ll ruin yourself.” Her words sting, but her intention isn’t to hurt.
She understands, but she hates it.
“Love you, J. Happy late Birthday.” She touches my shoulder and walks out.
It takes everything in me to hold strong, to keep the hurricane brewing in my gut at bay but losing it will do nothing for me.
I throw myself into the shower, and when I step out, I’m shocked to find Monti is still here, but I don’t show it. I keep my face blank as she stands, and lower into the vanity seat.
She steps up behind me, and we never once meet each other’s eyes as she reaches for my comb and begins running it through my hair. She braids, twists and pins it, giving me two Dutch braids, the ends twisted and tucked under.
When she’s done, I stand, step into my dress and she zips it.
I slide on a pair of four-inch heels to offset the six-inch pair I wore yesterday and face the mirror. She steps back and I straighten my spine, pulling my shoulders back as I lift my chin.
This is who I am.
A porcelain trophy.
Anthony chooses that moment to walk in, and with his entry, Monti makes her exit.
Anthony walks over to my window, looking out over the ocean. “Remember that district attorney in Naples? The one who transferred out not long before your parents first attempted to trade your sister to him?”
I didn’t know about the transfer, but how could I forget the rest. “Of course, I do.”
I turn to face him, but he remains focused out the window.
“Do you know why she was forced to make such an offer?”
A slight frown forms between my brows. “Because he threatened her.”
“Yes, but with what?” he leads.
I cross my arms, uneasy. “Clearly you are aware, so what’s the point of this?”
“I am.” He finally faces me, his blue eyes sharp. “But I don’t think you are. I don’t think you ever stopped to think about it, because if you had, you would have known there was more to you and me. You would have done better in upholding your end of our deal.”
“Our deal was to get to know each other and move forward at the end of my school year.”
“And you didn’t think falling for someone else along the way would jeopardize everything?” He angles his head. “Your mother assured me you weren’t the type, but mothers are often unaware, especially busy ones like her, so I had to be extra cautious.”
“So, you did have me followed.”
“I kept my eyes open, was all. I’m a lawyer, a great one. It’s my job to see all the signs and, sweetheart, you had many.”
“I guess neither of us are who the other thought.”
He nods. “What did your mother tell you of our arrangement, Jameson?”
I lick my lips and shrug. What point is there to lie now?
“She said she believed in you, that with you as senior partner, the firm would have a new kind of power, and power is everything to her. She wanted someone to take over who was as cutthroat as her, and she needed my help to secure it.” Or her life’s work would die with her, and that would be incredibly selfish of me to be the very cause of such a misfortune. I force myself not to swallow. “I’d say she met her match.”
Anthony buttons up his suit jacket. “All true, yes, but what she didn’t tell you is I’m the one who went to her.”
“Does that matter?”
“Since that one meeting led to you standing in front of me now, yes.” He pauses, for effect, I’m sure. “See, the DA, I found, had threatened your mother with who knows what, but she was able to pay him off in the end, which told me the man didn’t have what he needed to back her into a corner.”
“And you did.”
He nods.