Catherinelle by Diane Portman-Ray
6
The day after my playdate with Hugo, I woke up alone in my bed and instantly felt cold. I remembered the energy of his body next to mine, and the loss was palpable. A few days had passed, and I still hadn’t had the chance to make my way back to his arms. He didn’t run away, but we never got a moment alone. My mother came to town and spent a couple of nights here; she had entertained some friends, and we had brunch with my cousin, Lola, Vincenzo’s wife, Patty, Bianca and some other friends. The day mom left to go back to Great Neck, Ignazio came by the house, keeping Hugo in Gino’s office for hours, and I fell asleep before getting a chance to talk to him.
Now that Friday had rolled around, I was ready to force Hugo to sit down with me for a few minutes. He came and picked me up from school, but to my surprise, we didn’t take the usual route to my house. Instead, he crossed the East River to Sunny Side on Skillman Ave. The city scenery started to change from glamorous and dominant Manhattan buildings into welcoming neighborhoods with red brick buildings that had that trademark suburban flair.
“Aren’t we going home?”
“No.”
Sometimes I wondered if he offered those shallow answers on purpose, to see people getting annoyed.
“But?”
“Your brother’s house in the Hamptons.”
“Why?”
He sighed but didn’t peel his eyes away from the road.
“This weekend is Freddy’s daughter’s first birthday. Remember when you made me take you shopping for it?”
Freddy Fiera was a very good family friend and a lieutenant of my brother’s. A few years ago, he married Caroline, my mother’s niece, and Gino was the godfather of their daughter, Giana, who was born last year.
“Her birthday isn’t ‘till Sunday.”
“Your family already started to gather. Since Gino is a no show, and your mother only comes on Sunday with her sister, she asked for you to be present.”
And she didn’t think to mention something about it when she was in the city?
“Hugo, I need to go by the house and get ready. I don’t have anything at the beach house.”
“Your mother made an appointment for you at a boutique clothing store for this afternoon at six.” Probably Hudson & Lawrence, we used to shop there all the time. “She was sure you’d find everything you needed there, and everything else was packed by the maid. If you need something, I’ll take you shopping.”
“And the gift?” I got the cutest dress for Giana. It was a pink floral ruffle dress from the Elie Saab kids collection, and I had to order it from London.
“In the trunk.”
I was bothered no one talked to me about this premature getaway, but I was truly and utterly fucking pissed that Hugo would use it as an excuse to avoid me again.
“Are you staying or going back to New York?”
Of course, he was on the guest list, but I rarely saw Hugo go to family parties, barbeques, or gatherings unless his presence was necessary.
“I can’t leave you alone, Cat. If you want to stay with Vincenzo, I could go back.”
“No, I want to stay at our house.”
He didn’t say anything else, but I saw his jaw clenching.
We spent the rest of the drive in silence, and my eyes grew heavy. Even though I tried to fight it, I snoozed, waking up only after we passed the Shinnecock Canal, going into East Hampton. I loved it here, even if it wasn’t as much fun in the winter, but the city was beautiful, and our beach house was one of my favorite places. I spent a lot of happy summers chasing waves and dancing with the water. Even if it was in a busy town – the pearl of luxury summer vacations – the beach house was on a quiet street and had a generous strap of remote private beach, and I knew for a fact Hugo liked it here too.
The first time Hugo was locked up, he was only in his early twenties. The cops picked him up after an altercation at a club. I didn’t remember what the charges were, but he only stayed five months behind bars, so it must have been something minor. I was a kid back then, seven or eight, but I remembered that the Hugo that left the house and the Hugo that came back after the arrest were two different people. The reckless guy that spent his time running through town with my brother and Roman had turned into a dark man. I didn’t know if it changed him, or just unleashed a savageness that was always chained up in Hugo, but that was when they started to call him the Monster. Our house in Hampton was the first place he went when he got out. Every time he ended up in prison, he would come here for a few days after getting out, spending time alone to gather himself.
He pulled up in the flagstone driveway that crossed the lawn in front of the house. In the summer, there was lavender growing on both sides of the path, and the grass was always so green under the sun. The yard was surrounded by a cement wall masked with short cypress trees because even though the house was a jewel of modern American architecture, looking exactly like a luxury summer retreat one would think to find in the fashionable Hamptons, the Italian extraction had to show up somewhere. Gino was not so connected to the la madrepatria – the motherland – as my grandfather would have liked him to be, but he always loved the Tuscan tableau, and this was his way of bringing Italy to the US East Coast. Cesar Pelli wrote that ‘as one moves toward the future, the strongest and clearest way to do it is if you know you have a good sense of your past. You cannot have a very tall tree without deep roots.’ As the Brookfield Place Pelli built on West Street, at the edge of the Big Apple, the Nucci family had roots that went deep into the ground. We were not only a family; we were tradition and power, responsibility and boiling Italian blood.
The tradition was my cross to carry, as it was for my brother and everyone in the famiglia. As a princess of the underworld, there was much responsibility in my future. My life was mapped out to be coated in luxury and leisure, but still, I found myself attracted to the dangerous edge. That was the reason I wanted to live for myself before getting swallowed by the dolce vita, and there wasn’t anything as seductive as the man who was standing next to me. The king of the demons and lord of the darkness. His faith should be to shield me from the ugly, but I felt more and more seduced by his macabre with every minute that passed. The childish crush I’d had somehow turned into a wildfire that was threatening to consume me.
“Catherinelle.”
The sound of my name wrapped in Hugo’s rugged voice made me jump.
“Huh?”
“You spaced out.”
“Yeah, I…” was lost in thoughts about you and how my need was running deeper than my upbringing. “I was looking at the trees. They seem to be bigger than usual.”
“The gardener trims them in the spring. Go inside, I’ll bring your bags.”
“I’ll help you.”
The air sent a chill to my bones when I got out of the car, and I closed my quilted parka and raised the furry collar to protect myself from it. Before I got myself ready, Hugo had already grabbed most of the things that had to be carried inside, only the giftbox and a makeup case remaining for me. I closed the trunk of his car with my free hand and followed him into the entry hallway, where he dropped all the luggage.
“I’ll take the guest room down the hall,” he spoke.
“Ok.” I would have preferred him to share mine. “Since Gino isn’t here, I’ll just seep in the master.”
Hugo helped me carry everything upstairs and then disappeared the moment I started unpack. For a six-two shredded man who had a reputation for being a fearless assassin, he seemed pretty cowardly to me. The air crackled with energy every time we were next to each other, ever since the rendezvous we had the other night, but every time, he jolted away.
All I had to do was put my clothes away in the dresser and settle my makeup on the vanity mirror in the bathroom. Everything else was in perfect order, since Gino paid people here all year round to take care of the property. Like all the rooms in this house, the master bedroom was huge, and it had a generous bathroom with a hot tub that I planned to take advantage of. The room was luminous, the two large French doors that opened to a private terrace allowing the ashen light to fill the room. The entire place was decorated in light colors, white furniture, blue and butter yellow walls and wood elements. My bed had a light brown maple frame and impeccable white covers, with a wool navy-blue quilt placed on one corner. The pillows were fluffed, and there was a fresh bouquet of white peonies on the table, making the room comfier and more welcoming.
I changed into yoga pants, Ugg boots with fur, a simple tank top and covered myself with a knitted long sleeve cardigan to keep me warm, then went downstairs to find Hugo. There wasn’t a trace of him in sight, and the house was silent, so I walked around from room to room until I finally spotted him in the back yard, in the middle of the beach, contemplating the ocean.
The moment I stepped foot on the back patio, the frozen breeze of mid-December cut my skin, but I ignored it and stayed there watching him. The wind was merciless, but still, Hugo had just jeans and a black long sleeve shirt that contorted the massive muscles of his arms in a very delicious way, but it couldn’t offer much protection from the cold. He seemed lost in thought, and I wrapped myself tighter with the cardigan and watched him be still.
The beach was restless, the tall marram grass bending under the breeze that bit the shore. The winter air was riding the waves of the Atlantic, hitting the shore and cracking into a million tiny, tiny blades. I felt my skin cracking with every gush of wind, and my body was engulfed by shivers. I couldn’t move.
As kids, we left barefoot footprints in the same sand he was standing on right now. Him, Roman and Gino walking together and me following, trying to catch their attention and find someone to play with me. Funny how so much time passed, but we were back here, and I was still chasing him.
“Hugo!” I yelled over the sound of the waves when the cold became too much, and he turned to the sound of my voice. “You’ll catch a cold. Come inside.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t protest or tell me to get lost, just started to walk back, and I opened the door for us both to go back into the kitchen.
“You need something?” He was his usual closed up self, but I saw a newfound calm on his face.
“No, I just saw you out there. I don’t want you to catch pneumonia.”
“I’m fine; the cold doesn’t bother me.” Of course, it didn’t. It seemed like nothing could get to him, not the cold, not the dangers of his life, not me.
He did look unbothered. His face was halcyon, and his hands weren’t shaking like mine were. The V-neck of his shirt revealed the tattoo he had going from his shoulder down to his pec and covered his arm, a complicated tribal with different patterns. In the white light, he cast a shadow over me. Hugo Mustafa was a threatening creature, a man of violence, and still I wanted to wrap myself in his arms.
“Kiss me,” I said out of the blue, and he just stood there, looking at me like he didn’t know what I was talking about. “Hugo, kiss me.”
“You need to stop, Cat. You need to fucking stop.”
A hand went to his hair, and he turned away from me with a distressed expression, like he was battling something.
I launched forward, stopping his movement and jumping into his arms. As a reflex, he caught me, and my insides got warm from the simple gesture. In that moment, I felt protected, knowing the Monster would always catch me. He would never let me fall. His hands grabbed onto my thighs, holding me up while I rested my palms on his broad shoulders.
“Why are you fighting me?” I whispered, staring straight into his uncommonly penetrating grey eyes.
“Because it’s fucking wrong, Catherinelle.”
“I like you. I know you, and you would never hurt me. How is this wrong?”
“You’re horny; that’s all you are. I’m not like the gullible guys you play with at your school. I am a monster – I am the Monster – and you need to stay away. You need a man who can give you love and flowers and shit. It’s not me, Cat.”
He spoke the truth, but I didn’t care for it. If decadence was all he had to offer, I was ready to let Hugo Mustafa disgrace me on the altar of a mournful pleasure.
“I don’t want a boy. I don’t want a man either. I want you.”
He let out a bitter laugh.
“You can have whatever you want, princess, but you are not for me to have.”
“That will be my decision.”
I pressed my forehead to his, ready to launch into a kiss. He knew what was coming but didn’t let me down from his arms or push me back. When I pressed my lips to his, I felt the contrast with his rough mouth, cold from staying outside in the wind.
He was reluctant, but I teased his lips until he finally opened up and let me in. This kiss was different than everything we had shared until now. It was sweet and slow, like flame gathering its power, and with every second, the sensations grew more intense. His touch sent electric shocks all the way to my toes, and I melted on his chest like gelato in July. We were a paradox, an unstoppable force hitting an immovable object, each struggling to get its way. I wanted Hugo to jump off the cliff with me while he kept his feet strongly anchored into the ground.
After several seconds, he walked to the table in the living room, carrying me and letting me down on top of it. He broke the kiss but didn’t leave; he just sat there, my legs still on his hips, his hands on the table and his head down.
“You’re going to bring me to my knees, Catherinelle.”
I sure did hope so.
“Are you done avoiding me, Mustafa?”
He crooked his neck to look at me, his face still expressionless, but there was a playful ray of light in his eyes.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Cat. I can’t keep my hands off you when you’re close, and you’re always so fucking close.”
“Then don’t! What’s so wrong with me that repulses you, God damn it?”
Frustration bubbled in my throat, and my high-pitched question made Hugo do something I never believed he was capable of – be gentle. He raised his bear paw and touched my face with infinite care. I could barely feel him, almost like he was worried he might damage my skin with his palm.
“Don’t be stupid; you’re the most beautiful thing under the damn sun. You’re also a smart girl. You know you’re the forbidden fruit, princess.”
I was done circling about the elephant in the room. The year before my father was shot, he opened a new casino in Vegas. It was a luxury place, right on the strip and the launch party lasted a full week while rivers of champagne flooded the city. It was the first time my mom let me inside a casino, and I walked around clueless until Ignazio took me to a poker table and taught me how to play. When it came to poker, it was all about strategy and secrecy, and I was never good at it. I played with my cards on the table, all in, and this was how I wanted to play with Hugo.
“Are you afraid of what Gino would do if he found out?” ‘If’ because I wasn’t going to go and tell him.
Hugo laughed again.
“I don’t have to guess what he would do if he knew what I just did to you. Your brother would shoot me like a dog.”
“You’re his best friend,” I rushed to say, trying to make that dreadful fear disappear. I refused to think my brother would do something so stupid.
“I’m not afraid to die, Cat; that’s not what this is about.”
“He’s not going to kill you, Jesus.” Gino was…he was someone to be feared, but he was good to his people, and Hugo was one of his closest, most trusted friends.
“You’re his little sister; he most definitely would, but I told you, I don’t care about that shit. It’s not about fear. I pledged an oath to your brother, to your family. Going behind his back would be like I spit in his face, Cat.”
“You are not forcing me into anything, Hugo. If anything, I have been the one harassing you.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, Cat. I can’t think straight when you’re around. You’re my best friend’s little sister, the jewel of the Nucci family crown, and you’re seventeen. My job is to keep you away from men like me. Men who would rip away that innocence that sparkles in your eyes, princess.”
“I know what I want, Hugo. I’m not a child. It’s like Bianca said the other day, you don’t get much childhood in the life we have. I want you.”
“We can’t.”
“Ten days.” I raised my hand to make him stop talking. “Gino is coming back in ten days, and I’m not stupid enough to think he won’t catch onto us. I don’t want to get between you two and start a fight between brothers.” Because that’s what they were, Hugo and my brother, they were brothers tied not by blood, but by word. “Give us ten days.”
I saw the battle on his face. He wanted me too, and it wasn’t fair to ask him to betray my brother’s trust, but my desire was stronger than my principles.
“I can’t disgrace you, Catherinelle. I won’t.”
“For fuck’s sake, Hugo, if you don’t, someone else will. I’ll make sure of it.”
He grabbed me by my arms and pulled me to his chest, looking down at me with flames in his eyes. I could feel his blood running through his veins, boiling in anger, and even if it was wrong, I was pleased. Seeing him burn for me made me feel incredible. He made me a woman.
“I will kill him. They’ll fish his body from the Hudson before he gets to unhook your bra.”
He shifted into the skin of the killer he was trained to be. This was not the same Hugo who was looking at the ocean waves moments before; he was a predator, and I was turned on, shaking at the sight of him.
“Ten days,” I said again, and in his fury, he showed me the passion of an unleashed kiss. When we parted, my lips were swollen.
“I have to take you to that dress shop.”
“Yeah, you do.”
He stepped back and helped me get on my feet, and when we left the room, he didn’t let my hand go until I had to put my parka on. When he got behind the steering wheel of his Rover, he started the engine, put the car in drive and put his hand on my thigh before leaving the driveway. The taste of victory had never been sweeter.