The Santangelos (54 page)

After hanging up on Leon, she rushed to her computer to read the full story. Before she could get to it, there was a news flash about two suicide bombers in Las Vegas at the Magiriano hotel.

Wasn’t that Lucky’s hotel?

Denver felt sick. This was all too much.

*   *   *

Plans were made to be broken. Things happened in mysterious ways. Always expect the unexpected. When Rafael heard about Alejandro’s fiery demise, he realized that an opportunity had opened up for him that he had not thought would ever take place.

Alejandro was gone. Pablo had no other heir, so surely he, Rafael, would be recognized at last?

Unfortunately, it was he who had to inform Pablo by phone of Alejandro’s death, and Pablo did not take the news well. At first he refused to believe what Rafael was telling him, then he turned his grief and anger against Rafael, as if it were
his
fault.

“I’m sorry,” Rafael kept on saying. “It was a terrible accident.”

“Why weren’t you with him?” Pablo roared, his voice a steely blast. “You should have been protecting him. That was your
job
, you sniveling coward.
You
are the one that should be dead, not Alejandro.”

At that moment, Rafael realized that Pablo was never going to recognize him as his son. He would never be respected, and Pablo would forever blame him for Alejandro’s death.

It was time to move on after all.

Rafael knew what he had to do. He didn’t hesitate.

*   *   *

Billy Melina was on the set of his movie, sitting in his trailer checking out various sites on his laptop when a story about the Santangelo family popped up. And what a story it was. A murder in Chicago. An assassination in Palm Springs. A lethal car crash. Suicide bombers in Vegas.

The story was more violent than any movie script. And Max, sweet young Max, was caught in the middle of it all. It was no wonder she had not answered his text. According to the story he read online, she’d survived the deadly car crash and was now in a coma.

He found it hard to believe, yet it was true, and here he was, stuck in Rome, thousands of miles away, making a movie.

He’d had his chance with Max and he’d blown it.

Why? Could it be because he was shit-scared of making a commitment to a girl who he knew was not going to be a casual fling?

He’d bailed on her once, then after their magical reunion in Rome, he’d gotten the proverbial cold feet and bailed again.

One morning, after a night out with two hot girls who’d meant nothing to him, he’d woken up and thought,
What the fuck. I love Max. I want her back in my life, and I don’t give a crap about what anyone thinks
.

He’d immediately sent her a text, to which she hadn’t responded, and now he knew why.

Was it too late to do anything?

For Billy it was never too late.

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

Fury abounded that such a despicable terrorist act had taken place at the Magiriano.

A cluster fuck of police officers, detectives, FBI agents, and members of the bomb squad had descended. Shortly after, the media started arriving in hungry droves, desperate to capture everything.

There were questions, statements, and police reports. Lucky gave her version of exactly what had taken place on the penthouse terrace. Nobody doubted her account of the events. Nobody except Faisal, who was arrested yelling and screaming that his king had been brutally murdered and that he demanded justice. He also demanded to be immediately released due to the fact that he and his people—including a terrified and traumatized Tariq—were all supposed to have diplomatic immunity.

Lucky had many connections; most of the major city officials plus the mayor of Vegas and the governor of Nevada had been present to honor Gino. The governor’s wife had been injured—not badly, but enough to make the governor realize how fortunate they were. Three people had died, and two dozen were injured. It could have been so much worse.

Once Lucky heard the news about Max, she and Lennie had taken a helicopter to the hospital in Barstow. Her heart broke when she saw Max lying there in a deep coma. She immediately got to work, summoning the best doctors in L.A. and arranging to have Max transported by air ambulance to Cedars.

And there she lay in a deep coma.

Lucky questioned the doctors relentlessly, hungry for anything they could tell her. Unfortunately, they could give no definitive answers about Max’s condition. Their prognosis was that she could wake up tomorrow and be perfectly fine, or she could linger in a coma for months.

The grim alternative was that she would not wake up at all.

The family kept a steady vigil by her bedside. Every day Lucky held her daughter’s hand and told her stories; Lennie talked about the movie he was working on and how he couldn’t wait for her to wake up and visit him on the set; Bobby played audiotapes of books he knew she liked, while Gino Junior and Leo blasted all her favorite music.

Nothing had any effect. She lay very still in her hospital bed, serene, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping peacefully.

A week passed and nothing changed, until one day while sitting in the hospital, Lennie got a call from Billy Melina.

“I’m comin’ to see her,” Billy said.

“Not possible,” Lennie replied.

“Why?”

“You know damn well why.”

“You’re being a fuckin’ dick,” Billy exploded. “Whether you like it or not, you
know
she cares for me, and believe me—it’s mutual.”

“I’m not allowing it,” Lennie responded, and clicked off.

“Who was that?” Lucky asked, glancing at her husband.

“You’ll never guess.”

Lucky threw him a steely look. “I’m so not into guessing games right now,” she said.

“Okay, it was Billy Melina, if you must know.”

Was it her imagination, or did Max imperceptibly squeeze her hand?

Yes, she was sure that she did.

“What did he want?” she asked.

“What do you think?” Lennie said, frowning. “The dumbass wants to see her.”

“When?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Never.”

Lucky took a moment before saying, “Lennie, sometimes you’re right and sometimes you’re wrong. I have a strong feeling that we should say yes.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because…”

“Jeez, Lucky,” he groaned. “You and your strong feelings.”

“Call him back.”

“
You
do it.”

“I will.”

“Oh yeah, I
know
you will.”

*   *   *

Later that night, Billy came to the hospital. Visiting hours were over, but for Billy Melina exceptions were made. The nurses were all excited to catch a glimpse of such a famous and sexy movie star.

The family had left for the night; only Lucky remained. Sometimes she stayed all night, sleeping on the couch.

When Billy arrived, she found herself hugging him, finding comfort in his embrace. She’d always enjoyed his company, especially when he was married to Venus. She’d had fun teasing him about being Venus’s “boy toy.” He’d taken it in good spirits. Then the divorce had happened, and later, when he’d gotten together with Max, Lennie had gone nuts. “That son of a bitch is taking advantage of my teenage daughter,” he’d fumed. “And that’s going to stop right
now
.”

Nothing Lucky could say had calmed him down.

“How’s she doin’?” Billy asked, moving over to the bed.

“Unresponsive,” Lucky replied.

“What do the doctors say?”

“It’s a crapshoot, Billy,” she sighed, weary from spending days at the hospital. “She’ll either snap out of it or she won’t. Nobody knows anything.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, giving Lucky a long penetrating look. “You should go home. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” she said drily.

“I’m telling you—go home. Let me stay here.”

“Why would I do that, Billy?”

“’Cause I think I can help. Me and Max, we got a special connection.”

Lucky was willing to give it a try. She had nothing to lose, and Billy seemed to be genuinely concerned. Maybe he
could
help. Maybe he was exactly what Max needed.

After a while, she said good night and took off, knowing that Lennie would be furious if he found out that she’d left their daughter alone with Billy. She was too tired to care. Besides, she could hear Gino’s voice echoing in her head—
Give it a shot, kiddo. It’s all gonna work out
.

*   *   *

Billy perched on the side of Max’s bed. He reached for her hand and began stroking it. Then he leaned close to her and began talking, reminiscing about when they’d first gotten together on the beach in Malibu, making jokes, telling her what an asshole he’d been and how he wanted to make it up to her.

He kept on talking until he had nothing left to say, then finally he gave up and dropped off to sleep at the end of her bed.

It was four
A.M.
when something woke him—a noise, a gasp. He sat up abruptly and moved closer to Max. Her eyes were fluttering open. She gazed up at him.

“Hey,” he managed. “Is that you, Green Eyes?”

“Billy!” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

She recognized him! Holy crap! This had to be a good sign.

“Where … am … I?” she whispered.

“You’re coming back to life, babe. You’re gonna be okay.”

Feebly, she reached for the tube attached to her arm, making an attempt to wrench it out.

“Stop!” Billy yelled, frantically ringing for the nurse.

“Wow,” Max murmured. “I guess you really do care.”

Then she closed her eyes again, a peaceful smile on her lips.

*   *   *

The phone call in the early hours of the morning is the phone call one dreads. It is rarely good news. When Lucky’s cell rang at a few minutes past four
A.M.
, she answered with a shaky “Yes?”

“Hey, Lucky. It’s Billy.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Better than okay,” Billy said, hardly able to contain his excitement. “She’s back with us, an’ here’s the kicker—she’s weak and exhausted, but other than that she seems totally herself. She recognized me immediately.”

“Oh my God! This is fantastic! We’re on our way,” Lucky said, overcome with relief. She jumped out of bed and shook Lennie awake.

“Wassup?” he mumbled.

“It’s all good,” she said excitedly. “Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.”

Once again Gino’s voice echoed in her head.
Told ya, kiddo. Told you it was all gonna work out
.

A huge smile crossed her face. Somehow she knew that her father would never leave her. Gino would always be around to protect and look out for them. All of them.

The Santangelos.

What a family!

EPILOGUE

Faisal, King Emir’s loyal consort, was held in jail on a charge of conspiracy to commit a terrorist act. Therefore, he was not granted diplomatic immunity.

He pleaded no knowledge of what had taken place, while continuing to scream about the murder of his king.

Eventually, after his country intervened, he was released and sent back to Akramshar in disgrace.

Faisal lived with vengeance in his heart.

*   *   *

Traumatized and scared, Tariq was claimed by Peggy, his American grandmother.

“You are never returning to Akramshar,” she informed him. “America is now your permanent home. You will become an extremely successful businessman, exactly like your father. You must abolish all memories of Akramshar.”

Tariq was delighted to do so. As far as he was concerned, America was it, and never returning to Akramshar was no hardship.

*   *   *

Rafael put his plan into action, ending up in Perth, Australia, with a new identity and plenty of money stashed away. Unfortunately, he did not know a soul, so being in Perth was an unwelcome change from his life in L.A.

Much as he’d thought he’d hated Alejandro, he found himself at odds without his imperious, strutting brother ordering him around. He actually missed the hustle of Club Luna, the financial dealings, even the women.

Now he was stuck in a city he did not love with no family and no doubt a considerable bounty on his head, for Pablo Fernandez Diego would not take his absconding with millions of dollars lightly.

Rafael continued to lay low. He had no other choice.

*   *   *

Disappointed, student nurse Felicity Lever did not become a worldwide celebrity. Stuck at the hospital in Barstow, she had only her selfies with Willow Price and Max Golden to remind her of the day she almost became famous.

But she did have a plan. One of these days, she was going to take a trip to Hollywood and look up Willow Price.

Surely there would be a job waiting for her; she’d make a great personal assistant.

Felicity had her dreams, and they kept her going.

*   *   *

Chris Warwick decided that he needed a change of scene. While he was fine working for Lucky, Vegas did not offer him the kind of lifestyle he relished. He’d seen too much, done too much, chased down too many sleazebags. It was time for a shake-up.

One morning, he woke up, sold his van, stored his classic Mustang with a friend, headed to the airport by cab, and booked a ticket on the first flight to Hawaii. It took him all the way to Maui.

On the plane, he’d hooked up with a mysterious Hawaiian woman who’d invited him to stay with her. It turned out she was rich. Very rich.

Chris did not need her money, but he did enjoy her company. Eventually he’d moved into her oceanfront mansion.

After a few weeks, he was surprised to discover that she had an ex-jailbird husband she’d failed to mention, and that they were in the middle of an acrimonious divorce.

Was it his imagination, or did she keep dropping hints that if her husband were to have a deadly accident, their life would be so much easier?

Chris had the distinct feeling it was time to move on.

*   *   *

A baby girl was born to Annabelle and Eddie Falcon. They named her Princess Angel.

Eddie was not involving himself in any Daddy duties, nor was Annabelle prepared to be a stay-at-home-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night mom. They hired two baby nurses and visited little Princess Angel once a day in her designer nursery. They were both too busy to see her more often than that. Annabelle was intent on getting her figure back, while Eddie was negotiating a lucrative deal to run Cameron Studios.