His Mafia Queen

The Last Supper

"It's okay. It's okay." He strokes my hair. "God, I love you. Let's have a nice meal together. Please?"

I break away and sit at the table. There's a glass of red wine waiting for me, and I take a long glug.

"Easy," Gabriel says.

I set the glass down and give him the stink eye. "Easy? Hell no. There's nothing easy about the way I'm going to drink, or about this situation. We need to leave, Gabriel. Things are really fucked up."

I expect him to say something smooth and soothing, to reassure me that everything will be okay. But the shock on his face surprises even me.

"I agree."

"You're not going to believe what happened. It's so awful and I'm so freaked out." I tell him about my mother's pills, then about what she said while drugged and in bed. "Can you believe that my father wanted me with Beckett? They schemed and he went to Florida! Why would they do that? Why would my father do that? Why is my mother taking pills?"

Shaking my head, I reach for the wine.

"I know why," Gabriel says in a quiet voice.

"Why? And how do you know? You've been in town like five minutes."

Gabriel sighs and takes my hand. "I haven't been totally forthcoming with you."

I rip my hand away. "I'm in no mood for games. What are you talking about?"

Naturally, a waiter appears with a tray of appetizers.

"Sorry, babe," Gabriel murmurs. "I went ahead and ordered for us."

I smile tightly as the waiter arranges the dishes on our table. There's calamari, bruschetta, a small ramekin of tiny meatballs... all things that I love. All things that I don't care about right now.

"Here." Gabriel slides bruschetta on a plate and hands it to me. "You need to eat."

"I'll eat when I'm ready. I want to hear what you found out." I sit back and cross my arms in front of me, deciding that I'm going to be a bitch until he starts talking. "Were you really meeting with a college friend? Or was that a lie?"

"Not a lie. My friend is real. But he helped me with some information. I've been digging, Riley. Trying to understand what's going on here. I found out things back in Tampa."

"What things?" I drain the rest of my wine and reach for the bottle to pour more.

"Dangerous things."

My heart skips a beat. Dangerous? The word resonates, echoing through my mind.

"A few days ago, Andre uncovered some connections between Beckett and your father," Gabriel continues, his voice steady but laced with concern. "They're involved in something that goes beyond setting you two up."

He knew about this before we left? My grip tightens on the glass, the wine sloshing a little. "What do you mean?"

"Beckett isn't just some random Irish man your father wanted you to date. There's more to it. They've been scheming, Riley. There's a dark undercurrent here, something twisted."

My mind whirls with questions, yet I fear the answers more. "Why? What are they involved in?"

Gabriel exhales, as if the weight of the information he bears is almost too much to articulate. I hate seeing him waffle like this. "Human trafficking. Your father and Beckett... they're connected to a past investigation involving Beckett's uncle, Patrick."

Patrick Sinclair? The Robin Hood of Southie? Oh, fuck. I'd only heard stories about the man. Legends. He'd been an Irish gangster, one who didn't mind murder or giving money to people in need in the community.

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath me shifting. I stare at Gabriel, my mind struggling to process his words. Human trafficking? My father? Beckett?

"But... why? How?" I stammer, trying to grasp the enormity of this revelation. The garlic-scented air in this place now feels suffocating.

Gabriel talks about how my father was in jail before I was born, and his cell mate was Patrick Sinclair.

"I didn't know this. Were they friends? Business associates?" I scowl.

"I don't know exactly. But it appears your father helped Patrick Sinclair escape decades ago, after Patrick was released," Gabriel says. "It seems that Patrick paid your father, and then your father wanted to also do Beckett a solid by getting the two of you together. At least I think that's the case. I'm not a hundred percent sure.It's going to take some digging to find out."

"I don't want to dig. I don't want any part of this here," I finally say after a long pause. "I just want peace and a normal life."

My thoughts churn, a whirlwind of emotions tearing through me. Fear, disbelief, anger — all swirling together in a tempest threatening to consume me. I reach for the glass again, my fingers trembling as I bring it to my lips.

"Why didn't you tell me all this back in Florida?" I ask, my anger rising inside me.

"I didn't know a lot of it," Gabriel says.

"But you were aware that my father and Patrick knew each other in jail." I stare at him. "Why didn't you let me know?"

"I wasn't sure if it meant anything."

Now I'm gaping at him. "If I'd known this, and known that my father even had any ties to Beckett, I'd have never wanted us to come here."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his eyes downcast. "I felt like I needed to come here to meet your parents, and to find out more from my college friend."

"But you didn't let me decide!" I practically yell the words. Thank God we're the only ones in this room. "You didn't include me in the conversation. This all could've been avoided if we'd just talked. Together. Whatever happened to being honest with each other?"

I shut my eyes for a second, my anger nearly overwhelming my mind. Right now, it seems like everyone in my life is keeping something from me, and I hate it.

"Riley," Gabriel's voice is urgent, his hand covering mine, pulling the glass away gently. "We need to leave. Get you somewhere safe. I propose that we try to have a nice dinner here and then fly home on the jet. I ordered your favorite. Linguini."

He's so Italian. Always thinking a meal will solve all ills. Maybe for him it will. But not for me. This is a soul hurt. My own father has betrayed me. 

"Everything will be okay, babe." Gabriel's voice is gentle. "I won't let anything happen to you."

His words sink in, breaking through the fog of shock. Somewhere safe. Away from this. Away from my father's secrets and Beckett.

"Okay," I manage to whisper, a tear sliding down my cheek. "Okay. But I need to say goodbye to my mother first. I won't leave here until I tell her I love her."