The Recluse Heir by Monique Moreau
1
Cristo opened the front door and swept his hand out for me to enter my childhood home. Stepping inside, I inhaled the scent of polished wood and too many carpets. I tapped my black graduation cap with its little golden tassel against my thigh as I glanced up at the stairs. Childhood memories flooded me of waiting for my father to return late at night. I would leave my bedroom door open, and the instant I heard the front lock unbolt, I’d rush out of my room and skip down the stairs to stand at the bottom so the first thing he saw when he stepped across the threshold was my face.
Cristo ruffled my hair as he passed me. Shaking off my memories, I followed him with my eyes as he hauled my luggage upstairs.
“Do you need help?” I called out, even though I knew he would dismiss my offer. He was old school like that.
Cristo waved me away, so I slipped off my shoes and took a right from the foyer into the living room. My gaze coasted over the heavy, dark wood furniture, the intricately designed rugs covering the floor, and the traditional red-and-white embroidery scattered around, from the runner on the coffee table to several of the pillows piled high on the couch and armchairs. The warm late-spring air breezed through the open windows. The only thing missing from making the place an exact replica of a traditional Romanian home was a stove fireplace decorated in ceramic tiles.
I spied the little shrine in the far corner of the Eastern wall of the house, holding an Orthodox icon, which I knew was Saint Parascheva, grandmother's favorite. The votive candle, which she lit every morning, illuminated the gold leaf of the small wooden painting. A surge of nostalgia welled up inside me. Along with guilt. Guilt and worry. Guilt for not being around this past year as my mother fought leukemia. Cristo and Bunică, my grandmother, took care of her, and the toll it had taken on them showed in the small dust bunny that rolled past my bare foot.
Worry because Cristo confided in me that the family was having money problems. With the Americans evacuating Afghanistan, certain warlords that my father partnered with to smuggle raw opium and ephedrine out of the country were being replaced by the Taliban. The drop in income, on top of the medical bills coming in for my mother’s treatment, had led to a cash shortage. Guilt swooped in again at the thought of my hefty boarding school tuition since my parents refused to pull me out my senior year.
I had to make it up to them somehow, and that started with linking our family with the Lupu clan. For now, Mama was in remission, but leukemia was a sneaky disease, and the very thought that she might not be with us at some point drove me into near panic mode. I’d be the dutiful daughter if it killed me—and marrying Nicu just might.
But how could I deny her anything? I’d already disappointed her when I caught my father killing someone and the mess that had created. More than anyone in the family, she was concerned about our image, and I knew she had been worried about my prospects. Mafie girls did not move away from home and go to boarding school. This marriage took a huge weight off her shoulders, and the engagement-wedding whirlwind gave her something exciting to focus on.
This homey townhouse had been the center of my world, a sanctuary until the fateful night that had changed everything. Unlike other girls my age who were getting ready to leave home, I was determined to take an active role in my family. Leaving at such a young age, I had missed out on so much, and I was determined to make it up to them.
I plopped down on the couch, my fingertips grazing the new material. Had they gotten this reupholstered since the winter? Cristo waltzed in and sat down heavily beside me. I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. He felt like he’d failed in his duty to protect me. After my father called me at school to tell me about my engagement, Cristo FaceTimed me. He had fought with my father to give me more time, arguing that I was too young. But, as he’d painfully confessed, their hands were tied.
In our video chat, his jaw was tight and his teeth clenched as he gave me the verdict of my future. I expected to be engaged, but I thought I might get away with a year or two of college with Jewel. Of all the Lupu men, my brother hated Nicu the most. With his temper, I worried he’d do something rash. We were on the phone for hours. Holed up in one of the few private bathrooms in the girl’s dorm so no one would overhear us, I talked him off the ledge from starting a war with the Lupu clan. That’s when he divulged the whole story. He and my father had tried to trick the Lupu şef, or boss. It had backfired, big time. Not only was I going to marry a man I hardly knew, but everyone in his family would hate me.
The kitchen door swished as it swung open, and I heard the hurried pitter-patter of my mother and Bunică. Sweeping in behind them was the delicious apple and cinnamon scent of her favorite pastry, plăcintă cu mere, that I was certain she’d prepared specially for my arrival.
Throwing their hands in the air and clapping, they exclaimed, “Cătălina! Cat, you’re home!”
Bunică’s thin arms wrapped around me, cocooning me in warmth and love that I missed, the scent of apples and sugar floating off her. When I was a toddler, and again when the nightmares had invaded my nights, Bunică had insisted that a cot be moved into my bedroom so that she could watch over me as I slept. It was such a bunică thing to do. Standing up, she hustled back into the kitchen, probably to bring her plăcinte.
Meanwhile, my mother shoved Cristo out of the way. He grumbled something about being disposable but gave up his seat for my mother, who wrapped her arms around me.
“We’re so glad to have you back home for good, sweetie,” she crooned.
“Sadly, I’m not here for long,” I reminded her, giving her a pout. How unfair was it that, just as I was coming home, I’d soon have to leave?
She tutted, rocking me back and forth in her bony arms. She’d lost a lot of weight this past year with the chemo.
“But you’re here for now, and we’ll make the best of it. After your wedding, you’ll be in Manhattan, which isn’t far compared to Massachusetts. I don’t know what that uppity Lupu woman is thinking, letting her sons live in those penthouses in the middle of busy midtown when there are nice quiet townhouses just up the block.”
My mother tried her best not to complain, but we both knew that the Lupu clan made their own rules. They were known for their modernism and love of culture. Nicu’s father had bought the four penthouse apartments in the two towers of the Time Warner Building off Columbus Circle before construction had even begun. From what I heard, their şef, Alex, lived with his wife in one apartment, while his consilier, Tatum, occupied the other penthouse in that tower. Nicu and his older brother, Luca, lived in the two penthouses in the opposite tower. That would soon be my home.
“Get your father,” my mother ordered Cristo, fluttering a hand at him to hurry up. I caught his eye and gave him an apologetic look.
He leaned over our mother and clapped my knee with his big hand, shaking it lightly. “I’m glad you’re back for good, little sis.”
My mother nudged his shoulder and pointed to the foyer, where the stairs going down to my father’s office were located. He let out a long, suffering sigh as he heaved himself up.
“Oh, please, she spoils you rotten,” I jested.
That was their way, to banter and complain about each other. I had missed that, too. The joking and playful teasing. The laughter that always rang somewhere in the house.
“How was the train ride? Too crowded? With all the baggage you had to bring home, you should’ve let your brother pick you up,” she complained.
I shook my head. “It’s almost four hours each way, and that’s without traffic. It’s too much for Cristo.”
“He could’ve driven up, stayed overnight in a hotel, and brought you back the next day,” she insisted.
“Mom, I’m not a little girl. He’s done it so many times over the years,” I reiterated, as I had over the phone half a dozen times this past week alone. “It’s too much and completely unnecessary.”
“Nothing is too much for you. Your brother hates to drop you off, but he loves to pick you up.”
And pick up the girls, when he’s at my school, I thought to myself. Whenever he visited, the girls in my dorm would make fools of themselves drooling over him. It was gross. He had brown wavy hair, whereas I was a blonde, but we shared the same brown eyes. The difference was in our build. Where I was slim, except for in the hips and butt, he was big and tall. I knew he didn’t touch jailbait but still…hearing about him hooking up with one of the girls I went to school with was too skeevy to bear.
The only one I would’ve tolerated was Jewel, but she was horrified when I told her about some of our archaic traditions. After that, she swore that she’d have nothing to do with Romanian mafie types. No matter how many times my brother flirted with her, nothing was worth the risk of curtailing her freedom by force-tying herself to a man. After witnessing the serious lack of romance in my engagement, who could blame her? She was a romantic, and there was nothing romantic about marrying a guy who hated you on principle.
My father’s heavy tread came up the stairs from his basement office. I was on my feet and flinging myself at him by the time he reached the opening to the living room.
His strong arms wrapped around me and held me tight. “My Cat. How’s my fiica frumos, my beautiful daughter?”
I buried my face into his button-down shirt, inhaling his cologne. It smelled of safety and home. He worked long hours, insisting that he should be involved in the daily workings of his clan. I already didn’t have enough time with him. I sniffed. Soon, I’d have even less. Once I was a married woman, and part of a rival clan no less, I’d rarely get to spend alone time with him. It was sporadic enough when we lived under the same roof.
“It’s good to be home,” I choked out.
My family hadn’t come to my graduation. I hadn’t told them that I was valedictorian because it didn’t hold any significance for them. The long car ride would’ve been too much for my mother. Cristo would’ve come if I had asked him, but it seemed pointless to drag him away when it was always so busy here. Even though they’d never understand what education meant to me, that didn’t mean I loved them any less for it.
His eyes bled regret. “I know you had hoped to stay with us longer. I blame myself for this. If we didn’t need this contract with the Lupu bastards to bring in revenue, I would’ve considered breaking it, but my hands were tied.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but I knew how crucial this marriage was. Mafie marriages were powerful contracts between families that usually included financial arrangements. At first, Cristo was supposed to marry the Lupu mafie princess, but she ran off. Although the bride might have absconded, the marriage had to go forward. I replaced Cristo, and Luca, the second son of the Lupu clan, was supposed to take his sister’s place.
He refused to play along.
Even though it wasn’t personal, that rejection stung a little. My father always wanted the şef, Alex, to become my husband. As a punishment for his attempt to trick Alex, I was given to Nicu. He had the worst reputation of any made man in our circles.
“At least Mama is thrilled,” I joked. I loved her, but her near obsession with the status of our clan was legendary.
He snorted. “There’s that.”
I covered his hand with mine. “You know I’d do anything to make your lives easier. Anything.”
His eyes dipped down, attempting to cover his shame for not being able to shield me from the harsh demands of our world. He cleared his throat.
“How was the train ride? You know your brother could’ve picked you up?” he asked in a gentle reprimand.
Dashing a rogue tear from the corner of my eye, I replied, “I know, I know. But with a shipment coming into Jersey two nights ago, I knew he’d be tired. I’m fine taking the train. There’s a gang of us who go together, some going as far south as Washington, D.C., so I always have someone to sit with.”
He’d heard this numerous times, so he simply nodded. He didn’t have bodyguards on me while I was at school, or on the ride there and back, but that would change now that I was home. New York City was home, but it was also where our greatest enemies lived.
As if hearing my thoughts, he mused, “I’ll get Simu to arrange a soldier to be on call for when you go out.”
Simu.
Oh, Simu.
I swallowed around my tight throat and nodded.
Simu was Cristo’s best friend and my father’s consilier. It didn’t get more complicated than that, considering how protective my brother was of me. Simu might have come from a famed aristocratic Romanian family, the Cantacuzino, but my father had pulled him off the streets of Bucharest.
Simu was like a brother to me until I came home for winter break two years ago. Suddenly, it was as if I’d seen him for the first time. When he’d stopped by to chat with my father, he’d done a double take. His eyes had raked down my body in a way that made me feel all tingly.
I’d caught him watching me, time and time again. At church during the Christmas Eve service. At the café where Cristo hung out. At the warehouse when I’d stopped by to drop something off for my father. Every time, he’d pause to take a good, long look at me. Last summer, we’d shared a few kisses. They were…sweet, which was a surprise considering his reputation as a bad boy. My father never broached the subject of Simu with me, so when I was told Nicu was to be my husband, I knew our little flirtation was over with.
* * *
Later,as we sat down for dinner, Simu came by to talk to my father. This time, his eyes didn’t linger. His lips didn’t either when he bent down to kiss me on the cheeks. If anything, he avoided my gaze. My heart sank a little. He was acting as if I’d betrayed him.
Late that evening, I was about to take the stairs up as Simu rounded the corner and made a full stop. My foot paused on the step. Hand tightening around the banister, I sent him a withering look.
His gaze flicked away.
“Jesus, Simu. Are you going to punish me just because I’m engaged to be married?” I hissed. “You know it’s my duty to this clan, right? God, you’re such a hypocrite.”
I was miffed. He had no right to be upset with me. He knew the rules. Hell, he helped enforce them. I may not be a believer in arranged marriages but refusing would be the equivalent of spitting on my family. My father had shed blood, sweat, and tears for this family. Then there was my mother, who’d sat across the dinner table, happy and smiling for once. Not to mention that I’d become a pariah if I turned my back on our traditions. I could never escape my duty, and I resented the way he was treating me.
He stalked up to me, backing me up against the wooden banister. Gripping my forearms, he trembled as he gritted out, “Is that what you think? What do you take me for?”
“What else can I think?” I sneered. “You won’t even look at me.”
Shaking me a little, he growled. “I’m not mad at you. I know you’re the innocent victim here, but it’s tearing me up inside. You were supposed to be mine. Your father practically promised you to me and—” He shook his head and cut himself off before he said too much. He didn’t think I knew what had gone down between the Lupu family and mine.
“Cristo told me that their trick blew up in their faces and this was the consequence.”
“Yes,” he seethed between clenched teeth. “I can’t stand the idea of that Lupu fucker touching you with his filthy hands. You’re a Popescu princess. You’re beautiful and pure and deserve so much more, but I’m powerless. I can’t do anything to help you or fix this, and it’s fucking killing me.”
I blinked. Okay, that was not what I had expected.
My shoulders drooped, and I went limp in his hold. He clutched me to his chest. My face was smothered in the starchy cotton of his dress shirt.
“You already do so much for us, Simu,” I murmured into his chest.
“I’m only doing my job,” he replied.
That was a serious understatement. Cristo had confided that Simu had been instrumental in keeping our clan afloat during our current money problems. Simu’s uncle was the consilier of the Hagi clan, a rich and powerful clan on the West Coast. Simu convinced his uncle to advance my father money to keep our enterprises functioning while he scrambled to create new alliances in Afghanistan. It was a risky high-wire act, but none of it would’ve been possible if Simu hadn’t vouched for my father.
His grip tightened around me. “Fuck, Cat. I want to find a way…”
I shook my head, my cheek rubbing against the harsh cotton. Planting my palms on his chest, I pushed myself off him.
“You know as well as I that there’s nothing you can do,” I asserted. “My father needs this of me, and my mother is so happy. You saw her at dinner. She had more energy tonight than she’s had since she got sick. I can’t take that away from her.”
“So, you’re willing to sacrifice your happiness for her? For them?” he asked, his tone laced in bitterness.
Of course, I was. Only, he wasn’t what I was sacrificing. Abandoning my chance to go to college was the real sacrifice. The thought triggered the same old sinking feeling in my stomach.
“As if I have a choice in the matter,” I scoffed.
“At one time, I was your choice.”
“That’s not fair. I never had a choice. If I had been lucky, then yes, I would’ve married you, but it was never in my hands.”
“Your father’s a fool,” he snarled.
“Hey,” I snapped. “Don’t you dare call him names. Do you think he’s thrilled about this? Cristo is beside himself. You know the long-standing competition between him and Nicu. He feels he’s failed me, and it’s eating him up inside.” Not to mention that, at times, I coasted on the edge of feeling like I was drowning.
He cast his head down and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, Cat. You know I didn’t mean that.”
I rested my hand on the center of his chest and sighed. “I know, I know. If he almost promised me to you, that’s a hard thing to swallow.”
“More like unbearable,” he groused. “How can you be so resigned to it?”
How?Only a man could ask such a ridiculous question. As a man, and one that held a powerful position, he had more freedom to choose. I was resigned because I had no agency in this matter. He didn’t wake up in the morning to the depressing reality that I would be taken from my family, that I wouldn’t continue my education, that I’d be tied for life to a stranger who hated me.
“It’s never been fair, but I grew up knowing that I didn’t have the final say. I could make suggestions, and my father would try to accommodate me, until he couldn’t. As the daughter of Nelu Popescu, I’m too valuable to marry whomever I want. A marriage is political in nature. Mine more than most.”
“I’m not giving up, Cat.”
My eyes flared in surprise, my heart doing a thump-thump in my chest. I did not need Simu causing trouble. It was hard enough pushing myself to do what was necessary.
Taking a step back, I replied, “I don’t even know what to say to that, but you know I will always follow my father’s wishes.”
His jaw clenched. “Then I’ll just have to change his mind.”
Of course, I’d prefer Simu to Nicu any day. I knew Simu. I already loved him, and given half a chance, could fall in love with him, but what he was suggesting was a pipe dream.
Letting a little twinge of exasperation show on my face, I reminded him, “The engagement is a few weeks away.”
“I’m aware,” he drawled out. “It’s not a done deal until you’re in front of a priest. I’m the one who loves you, not him. That Lupu scum doesn’t want this any more than you do, so there’s that.”
I swallowed down the hurt that bubbled up at his harsh comment. Our world was harsh, and I had to remind myself that he hadn’t said anything untrue. First Luca rejected me. Then Nicu accepted, but with hatred in his heart. The hurdles I faced were almost too much. I took a deep breath around the band of tension constricting my lungs.
I patted his chest, my hand smoothing down his shirt before dropping away. I took a couple of steps up the stairs, placing us eye to eye, and gazed into his face, trying to read what he was planning. He returned my gaze with a stoic one of his own, revealing nothing. Suddenly weary after a day of traveling, returning home, and now this, I let my questions go. I didn’t have the energy for it. I’d already put my family through enough, and I wouldn’t add to their burden by entertaining an alternative.
“Just…don’t do anything foolish, Simu. The cards are stacked against us, and I don’t want you to get hurt. With Mom the way she is, I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
He broke our stare, his eyes fixed on the wooden banister to my side.
“Promise me,” I demanded. “Don’t do anything that will get you killed or start a war.”
His gaze flicked toward me and darted away again. With a belabored sigh, he nodded once. “Yeah, okay. But anything less than that is fair game.”
Stubborn man.
I should’ve pushed for an oath of some kind, but I wasn’t sure I’d get more. The pride of an aristocrat underlined his deep hatred and rivalry with the Lupu men. Something he and Cristo had in common. It was a surprise that he was a member of our clan. The Lupu, with the royal blood in their lineage, would have been the obvious choice, but Simu had joined us. It spoke to the fact that he had his own mind, and I always admired that quality about him.
Still, what he was contemplating was risky, and we already lived in a dangerous world. Honestly, the less I knew, the better. I’d learned that lesson the hard way. The one time I found out more than I should, I ended up leaving my family for six years.
Backing off, I threw my hands up. “Fine, do what you must.”
Bringing my cheek to his, I gave him a kiss on one cheek and then the other and bid him a good night. Taking two steps at a time, I fled up the staircase without a backward glance.
