End of an Empire

By Chloe Behrens

Sloan Capitani is done.

She's done with the lies, the cheating, the drama, she's especially done with the Capitanis, and she's pretty close to being done with the only family she has left.

The Capitani Kingdom is crumbling all around her. Van is guilty of many things, but would he murder her if he would stand to gain millions?

Well, someone would.

Just when you think you've got it all figured out, Vegas's Finest figures out a way to betray your trust, yet again. Who will make it out alive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Behrens
• Release date: Dec 30, 2012
• ISBN: 9781300579120

Chloe Behrens

Chloe Behrens was born in Hudson Valley, NY and now resides in the suburbs of Dallas, TX."I fell in love with writing as soon as I learned how to read," she says. "Picture books progressed into lovelorn poetry. Poetry turned into short stories, and then the Van Steenburgh Family began in my teenage years. The story began, and then it wasn't until my early twenties that the second novel in the series came out. The last novel in the series was written this year. It was hard to put it to rest after it being with me for so many years." Still, she triumphed on.After the release of her Van Steenburgh saga, she penned two more books -- neither of which belong to a series. "Breaking Berlyn was so fun to tell because of the characters. Gavin and Berlyn's banter is so witty, and I love how he keeps her on her toes. He finds ways to open her up to new things, and she really needs that. Sometimes, we all do."Happily Ever After: A Tale of a Wedding Planner, has become more popular as a chick-lit/contemporary romance. It's being featured in the Frankfurt International Book Fair 2012, and is her best-selling book, yet! "I think it's because the main character Banner is so flawed, and independent. A lot of the fun, fearless women of today can relate to her. She's strong-willed, career-oriented, and she's human. She makes mistakes." Her male counterpart, Christian Brenhoff, is the epitome of what every woman wants, but doesn't want. "Or so she thinks. I don't know. We are all guilty of judging people, and when it backfires on us, we sometimes don't know how to handle that."She is currently working on her second series, and when she's not typing away on her laptop working on a story, she enjoys traveling, spending time with her pets, and life with her longtime boyfriend/best friend Shaun. "My life is an adventure," she adds. "One I thoroughly enjoy with each passing minute!"

Book preview

End of an Empire

The Collapse of the Capitani Family

End of an Empire

The Collapse of the Capitani Family

by Chloe Behrens

Published by

K R Cimorelli

Chloe Behrens

End of an Empire

The Collapse of the Capitani Familye

© 2012, Chloe Behrens. All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-1-300-57912-0

Smashwords eBook Edition

Published by K R Cimorelli

First Edition: 2012

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Chapter 1

Becoming Me, Again

I was sitting in my car, scouring the internet on my phone for divorce lawyers in the area. I stared down at the endless array of listings upon my screen, wondering how difficult it could be. If I really wanted to be done with Van, and have a clear conscience before moving forward… this was necessary. There wasn't much further I could spiral downward, at this point. I just wanted a clean start. I wanted to put everything and everyone behind me. It wouldn't be hard; most of everyone in my life had already fazed themselves out, anyway.

Before long, I was parked in front of a law office. I stared up the sidewalk at the entrance, and swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. Maybe I should’ve called first. My heart was racing in my chest, and a cold sweat had covered my arms with goose bumps, before chilling my body. I sat in my car for five minutes, trying to work up the nerve. Finally, my arm involuntarily reached out to open the car door.

When I stepped inside, it smelled of Pine Sol, and there were fake plants strewn about the reception area. Can I help you?

My eyes darted to the petite, smiling blonde seated at a shining desk made of cherry wood. I knew I looked like a deer in headlights. With considerable hesitation, and still wondering if this was the right choice, I stepped forward, and I was filled with nervous uncertainty. I’d like to speak to someone about filing for divorce.

Do you have an appointment? She looked down at an obviously blank time-slot in the scheduling planner set before her.

No, I answered, wondering why she had even bothered to ask. I just didn't know if there'd be someone I could speak to right now, about the whole process.

Okay! She smiled brightly. Let me set you up with an appointment. Will next week work?

Nonsense. She looked up, and my head turned to see a man standing in an office doorway, dressed in a suit, and stirring a mug of coffee in his hands. Tall. Wide-shouldered. Dark, thick hair that was graying a little at the sides, and golden skin that hinted that he might spend a lot of time outdoors. Not so much older, as he was distinguished. He was certainly not a bad-looking man, in the least. I’m not busy. I can see you right now, he offered with a charming smile that revealed a set of perfect white teeth. Come right into my office!

Reluctantly, because this would be the last chance I could easily run screaming out the front door of that office and speed maniacally from the parking lot, my feet betrayed what was going on in my heart and my head, and strode confidently into the office behind him. Jackson Crane, he introduced himself, extending his hand. Call me Jack.

Sloan, I accepted his firm handshake, and his eyes briefly assessed me in consideration. Nice to meet you.

His dark eyes lingered just a second longer upon my face, before he quickly offered me a seat. Very nice to meet you also, Sloan. Please, make yourself at home, he beckoned, motioning to the chair set before his desk. He took a seat also, and turned his attention fully toward me. How can I assist you?

I think I want to file for divorce, I answered. My heart was still pounding!

You think? He tilted his head pensively eyeing me.

I do, I replied swiftly. I want to.

But?

I paused, looking back at him with considerable confusion now. But, what?

You just don’t seem too sure. Are you just thinking about it? I’m not here to help you make a decision. That’s what therapists are for.

I’m not looking for therapy – I’m looking to get out of my marriage, I retorted crossly, watching his eyes dance with amusement. What I’m unsure of, is the entire process! How all of this is supposed to work, I gestured with my hands, causing him to chuckle at my plight.

So you do need me, after all. His grin widened. Perfect! He was a good-looking man, even if right now I did kind of feel like he was mocking me. How long have you been married?

Almost four years, I answered stiffly.

Kids?

Almost. But everything happens a reason. No kids.

He picked up a very expensive-looking pen from his desk top, and slid a pad of paper before him. He began jotting things down, and I craned my neck, but couldn’t read what he was putting. Assets? Property? Houses? Anything that will need to be divided up, or would give the potential to be fought over?

I sighed. This was where it was going to get tricky. It doesn't matter. He can just have everything.

An eyebrow rose at me. You want out that bad, eh? He had no idea. What’s the reason for the divorce you want so badly?

Was it even any of his business? I thought you were just here to draw up some papers, I snapped testily.

I’m here to look after your best interests, he answered smoothly. My scathing tone seemed to fall on deaf ears, with him. He just couldn’t ditch that entertained twinkle in his eye. You are entitled to things. At least any of the things that you brought into the marriage. At least half of what you two accrued during the marriage. Unless you are at fault for the marriage ending, that is. Did you cheat?

He cheated.

He looked genuinely surprised. Really? Idiot, he muttered. It rendered a half-way flattered chuckle from me. Once? Twice? Three times?

He faked his own death and left me, took up with some chick in Brazil, and then after I forgave him for that, I caught him in bed with my sister, I fired at him, raising my chin in defiance. Now they're shacked up, together.

How does one fake their own death? He leaned forward with acute interest. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to disappear and go elsewhere!

I gazed at him in awe for a second, and didn’t quite have a response for him. Are you like this with all your clients? I asked. This… joking?

He sat back in his chair. Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?

I just feel like maybe you aren’t taking me seriously, I countered through narrowed eyes.

He considered that statement for a moment, and then nodded. I apologize. His eyes met mine square-on. I am taking you seriously. I promise. I nodded slightly, and he proceeded, wiping all amusement from his demeanor, to become completely stone-faced. He went on to explain my options to me… stuff about irreconcilable differences, or fault and who to blame for the divorce. Van would be served papers, and given the chance to contest the divorce. At this point in time, part of me wanted to take him for everything he was worth, but at the same time, I just wanted it as seamless as possible. Do you expect him to put up a fight?

I don’t just expect it. I guarantee it, I frowned.

Does he know that you’re here?

I shook my head. No.

Why don’t you think you’re entitled to anything? Do you work?

No, but I can easily find a job, I answered quickly.

What do you have a degree in?

I don’t, I faltered. But I have job experience, and I shouldn’t have a problem.

What kind of jobs have you worked?

Waiting tables. Bartending, I shook my head, feeling a little cornered and flustered. What does it matter?

Because you rolled up here in a pretty sweet BMW, and last time I checked, no one can afford upkeep on a place, pay bills, and live like an adult as a single waitress, he challenged smoothly.

I’ll figure it out, I insisted, offended.

I’m just saying! He chuckled, sitting back in his chair. Talk to me! Let me help you, woman!

I shook my head, frustrated. I just--, I paused, and then sighed. Maybe coming here was a mistake, I admitted, rising from my seat and once again taking this man fully by surprise. I really wasn't trying to waste your time, I promise. But thank you for talking to me. I shot him a brief, tight smile, and turned for the door.

Wait, he called after me, rising from his chair, and stopping me to look back at him. He put his hands on his hips, and he wasn’t ready to accept defeat just yet. Give me five more minutes of your time. Then decide if you want to try somewhere else.

I drew a deep breath and released it. I mean, why the Hell not? Coming in here had been the most nerve-wracking part of this whole ordeal, thus far. Sitting in his office had me in the hot seat, for sure. But it wasn’t as bad as trying to drum up the courage to walk into yet another lawyer’s office. Fine, I spoke softly, plopping my purse back down upon his desk, and as it was wide open, the gun I’d just been shooting at the gun range merely an hour before was now in full view.

This small detail didn’t escape him, either.

Quite an interesting accessory, you have in there, he mused. That eyebrow of his was pulled upward, once again. It’s a nice piece, actually. Is that a .22 Magnum?

Maybe. I honestly didn’t know.

What are you doing with a gun? He pressed, narrowing those dark eyes slightly.

That just might be a question you probably don’t want the answer to, I answered with a cool smile that made me feel like a badass, even if my case was a sad one.

He leaned forward. I might need more than five minutes, his husky voice spoke with overwhelming interest. His gaze was all over me, exploring every inch of my face.

I might be in deeper shit than you’ve ever stepped in, I countered with a slight smirk.

I have no idea what that means. His intense stare continued. He could’ve been in his forties. Mid? Late? His face was only lightly lined, but the silver lightly threaded in his black hair made him incredibly handsome.

Then I snapped back to reality. What was that question you asked me earlier?

If you cheated?

No, another one.

He cocked his head in thought. What you’re carrying a gun for?

I shook my head. Now it was my turn to have some fun with him. I had nothing to lose at this point. Possessions? Assets? I recalled, causing him to nod with remembrance. We’ll start with businesses that we own, along with his family, which is why I'd rather wipe my hands clean of it all. Three casino resorts. One here, and two in Reno. No, four now. I forgot the one in Atlantic City. A hotel in Miami. A skanky strip club. A bar in old downtown Vegas. Oh, and we still own the condo in Atlantic City, and then there's the house, here. We may, or may not, still own a condo that my sister and him are currently holed up in. He told me it was sold, but he lies. It might be in my sister's name, now. I don't know. Then we have vehicles. The bank account I cleaned out. Guns. Jewelry… I shrugged, and then brought my eyes back to a man who was clearly blown away by every word that just dripped from my mouth.

Who are you? He asked, scratching his head in thought.

Sloan Capitani, I answered. But I need your help becoming Sloan Harrison again.

Your noon appointment is here, a small voice spoke behind me, grabbing his attention momentarily, before his eyes rested upon me once again.

He contemplated me for a moment, as he'd continuously been doing off and on, since my arrival. He didn't know what to make of me, but clearly I intrigued him in a way that put a sparkle in his eye. This is going to be quite the case, he spoke, with a touch of excitement spreading about his face.

It's going to be a pain in your ass, and that's a promise, I chuckled at him. Seriously, you don't know what you're getting yourself into, by taking this case. I suggest you run.

Actually, it'd be you that'd have to run, he said amusedly. This is my office.

I couldn't help but laugh. Good point. Well, I can certainly leave, then.

And deprive me of the first case I've actually been stoked about in a long time? I'd hate you for it, he grinned, making himself twice as charming.

You might need a bodyguard, I recommended, on the verge of laughing at him.

I played rugby in college, he countered. And still do, on the weekends.

That explains the tan, I thought aloud.

I'm flattered that you noticed, he bantered with his dark eyes alight with mischief.

I'm just observant, I countered.

I'll take your flattery any way I can get it, he poked back, wittily.

You say that now, I spoke, rising once again from my chair. But by the time this case is done, you're going to be sick of me, I assure you.

I'll need to see you again soon, to get deeper into the details. He, too, rose from his seat. He buttoned his suit jacket, and I turned for the door.

I'll make an appointment, this time, I called behind me. He was at my heels when I reached the door and turned around. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mister Crane.

He took the hand I extended towards him, and he looked like a tornado had now ripped through his day, and jacked everything up. I could see his mind was working double-time. His hand was warm, and mine was lost in it, before I took it back. Jack, he spoke gently. You can call me Jack.

I prefer Jackson. My eyes searched his handsome face, and I hoped he could be the one to put an end to four years of heartache and suffering.

My mother is the only one who has actually ever called me that, he remarked lightly.

I'll see you soon, I promised, turning and heading to the receptionist's desk. What do you have open, for later this week?

His next appointment greeted him casually, and I felt his eyes upon me even as my back was turned toward his office door. They disappeared inside, and I felt myself relax slightly. Next Tuesday, at ten in the morning. Will that work?

It would. I took the appointment card that she handed to me, and out the door I went, with a head much clearer than when I'd arrived, and some witty banter still echoing in my brain.

Chapter 2

Dearest Brother

Everything Van did had a greater purpose. He needed to find a responsible chick that he could swindle into taking care of all his businesses and funds, while he escaped being murdered by a local gang that he was stealing drug customers from. So he married me and then played dead for a while, while I legitimately thought my husband was killed, and I had to pick up the pieces and take a crash-course in business while I mourned. Then he magically comes back to life and gets himself into more trouble, so we pack up our lives and moved to Atlantic City, where he had just strategically invested in another casino property. I still wasn't sure if when he left me to go hide out with the sister I've since disowned, it was because he truly wanted the marriage to be over, or if it was mostly because his uncle Angelo was now looking for him, to collect a debt he believed he was owed. When dear ol' Uncle Angelo showed up at our house, he pointed a gun at me with the threat to end life as I knew it, unless I turned Van over to him for stealing money from his family and loyal investors.

I had every intention to turn him in, after I found him living in secret with the sister I'd once caught him in bed with. The same sister I took into my home, when she left her abusive boyfriend in Vegas and came to stay with us in Atlantic City. The same sister I worked so hard for, to make sure she got her education, and a good life.

Now, I had a motive. The house that was mine after my father had passed away was something that Van had always wanted me to get rid of. It was my hideaway. It was the only piece of property I had owned by my own right, and not through him. He hated it. When he orchestrated bringing my only brother Gage back to Vegas, who he had taken under his wing from the moment he met him, and who had since become embedded in the trappings of the Capitani family, and happily volunteering him to stay at my father's house while Van and I tried to reconcile our marriage, it became both a blessing and a curse.

I knew the house would be taken care of by Gage and his fiancée Sammi. Moving into the beautiful home that Van pressured us into buying, and then moved into, before he promptly walked away from me to go into hiding with my sister Piper… Well, it worked out for me in the long-run. My brother really didn't have much to say to me, these days, but before Van got served with these papers, I needed to officially sign the house over into my brother's name. This was imperative to escape Van going after me and trying to get his hands on it in the settlement. It was something that was left to me after we were married, so the possibility of it being divided up as a joint asset in the divorce really irritated me.

Gage joined me at the same little cafe that we last met for brunch at, forever ago. He donned dark sunglasses as he walked through the doors, and he took a quick look around before approaching my table. I casually sipped my coffee, and he sat down across from me, giving me a once-over after he finally removed his sunglasses. Hey, he greeted me. This would be the first time we'd spoken in months.

How have you been? I asked, feeling as if I were addressing a complete stranger. His boyish, disarming smile had long-ago disappeared. He looked harder, rougher around the edges. Colder. He looked like a Capitani. This stunning realization was like a wrench twisting my heart.

He shrugged lightly, looking back around again for a second. Good. You?

I've missed you. I put it out there; gently, softly, sincerely. I begged with my eyes for him to look at me, and see that he still had blood-family. Not this false sense of family that the Capitanis surrounded him with, even though they did such a good job at it. He didn't reciprocate. How's Sammi? I asked, trying to keep the conversation upbeat.

She's awesome. She and Angela are out shopping right now. Spending money, he chuckled. My blood ran cold. Angela. My former best friend, Angela. Van's brother Jionni's fiancée. Now I just felt nauseated.

How is Angela? My tone wasn't as genuine, but I gave it my best attempt.

She's good, he nodded, picking up the cup of coffee the waitress set down before him, and taking a sip. They're doing all the wedding planning stuff together, he spoke casually. I caught my jaw clenching, and forced it to release. Their big day is coming up here, pretty soon.

This last comment snapped me back to full attention. I had no knowledge of it. Nor had I received an invite. Really?

Yeah, he answered, as if my asking was the most idiotic question in the world. So what's going on with you? Why did you ask me to meet you this morning?

What, I can't ask the brother that I haven't seen in ages to meet me for brunch? I chuckled, giving him a strange look.

He eyed me curiously. Just a little out of the blue, that's all.

Because you kind of act like I have the Bubonic Plague, anymore, I shot back defensively. Just because Van and I aren't together anymore, doesn't mean I'm not still your sister, I reminded him.

He says you kicked him out, and that's why he went to stay with Piper, he spoke carefully.

He's a liar. I didn't kick him out. He up and left of his own free will, after telling me he hadn't talked to Piper since I caught them in bed together, I spat bitterly.

He also said you cheated on him.

My jaw dropped, and I sat back in my chair. How nice that he couldn't address me with these issues, however he could blab about them to whoever would listen. So much for keeping everything private! I didn't know you listened to everything that came out of his mouth, I fired coolly.

That neither confirms it, nor denies it, he muttered, grabbing an English muffin from the basket on the table, between us. I don't know. I just… find it all pretty disappointing.

I didn't quite know how to respond to that. Nothing between he and I has ever been happy or perfect, was all I could manage. I hope someday you will understand that.

I know that they've been the only family that we've had, since even before Dad died, he stated boldly, causing my shoulders to drop. They've taken us in. Gus and Greta have always been good to us. They had been. Van's parents welcomed us all like we were their own children.

But that's what they do, I spoke ominously. They make everyone feel welcome, and then they make you feel privileged to be among them. They take you under their wing, and before long, you're involved in the same crooked shit as they all are, I pointed out.

It's not all bad, he argued. I'm banking more money right now than most college graduates make at the height of their careers, he boasted in a low voice, leaning forward. I'm twenty-two years old, and I've already banked my first million dollars! Who else can say that? He shrugged, and looked at me like I was a moron. You talk about them like they're all monsters, when they've literally taught me everything I know about what I'm doing, and they're the reason I'm successful at it! I wouldn't have any of it, if they weren't so generous!

Yeah, but they wouldn't have so much either, if they didn't take a chance and invest in you! I hissed, leaning forward towards him also, now. You opened that hotel in Miami, because none of them wanted to go there to open it! You're running that place on the other end of The Strip, and because of you, it's putting money in their pockets--

They could've picked anyone else, though. Anyone! But they picked me!

No, Van picked you, I corrected crossly, sitting back in my chair. Van picked you. It was just another way for him to embed me into his life, and his family. That's what you don't get, Gage! He moved you back here with the sole purpose of you being under his thumb, and then moving you into Dad's house, so that I would feel pressured to just try and make things work with him!

Not everything is about you, Sloan.

His statement came out a sneer. I stared at him in awe for a moment, but I shouldn't have been surprised by any of this. I knew his loyalty lied with Van, and the Capitanis. I knew he would side with them, if he were forced to choose a side. I needed to keep my wits about me. Do you talk to Piper, much?

He didn't look up. He concentrated on the muffin he was buttering. Yeah. Sometimes.

He was lying. Capitani cookouts? Dinners at Gus and Greta's? I smiled crookedly, and he looked at me with risen eyebrows.

You don't really want to hear the answer to that, do you?

Maybe I needed to. Well, as long as they're happy together, I muttered, with my stomach threatening to revolt against my words.

They seem to be, he confirmed, his tone light. They are nothing compared to how you two were, but… they seem happy.

I didn't know what that meant. Curiosity was calling, but this time my jaw shut tightly so it wouldn't escape. About the house, I began softly. I want to turn the house over to you and Sammi, as a wedding gift.

He seemed shocked by my decision. Really? Why?

Because I have a house now that I love, and there's no need for me to hold onto it, when I won't be living in it. I found a lawyer, and if this sounds like something that you want, I will have him draw up the papers and we'll make it official, I finished softly.

Wow. He sat back in his chair. I mean, it sounds awesome-- and thank you, by the way-- but what if we have to move? What if we no longer need the house?

Then I'll take it back, I decided.

Why bother with any of it, if you're still going to want it back, anyway?

I shrugged. Who's to say you'll ever leave Vegas again? I put forth. You're one of Van's right-hand men, now. He won't want you far from him, and this is always where he ends up coming back to, I pointed out. But if, for some reason, you do end up leaving here, and you don't want the house anymore, I'll just assume responsibility for it.

He pondered this whole scenario, over eating the muffin he had slathered with butter. Okay, he decided softly. Sounds like a plan.

I'd appreciate if you kept this strictly between us, I said aloud, biting the inside of my lip. I just don't want any more hostility with your sister, or with Van and the family. It's really none of their business.

Okay, he agreed softly. So what about Piper? He implored, eyeing me curiously. You think you two will ever be able to make amends after all this?

I shook my head. I don't care to, I answered honestly. She's burned that bridge.

He nodded, looking back down at the muffin he held in his hands. Yeah, I don't agree with a lot of the stuff she does. I never did. In your defense, the first time she got with Van was bad enough. Taking up with him again just isn't right.

I shrugged. Nothing I can do about it now, except wash my hands of it.

I know he loves you, though. My eyes flicked back up to look into his. He does. Just the mention of your name snaps him to attention. He has never looked at Piper the way he looks at you. Pictures of you. I think she's just the closest thing he can get to you, right now. If that even means anything.

My poor brother. Ever since the first time I brought Van home, he had an instant bond with him. He was the brother Gage never had. And Van took to him immediately, and made him feel included in everything. I really did think their special friendship was pure and genuine. Or, I wanted to believe that, anyway. For the sake of my brother, who thought so highly of the guy who relieved so much stress from his older sister's shoulders, and gave him the tools in life to become successful.

His comments caused a sadness to well in the pit of my stomach. I wished he understood that no one had wanted to believe in Van more badly than me. I was a fool for him, and I forgave him for so much, for the simple fact that we shared a kind of passion and chemistry for one another that people write about, and make movies about. It was rare, and it was special, but in its all-consuming fire burned any