Born in Blood Collection Volume 1: Collection of books 1-4

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Born in Blood Collection Volume 1: Collection of books 1-4 Page 12

by Cora Reilly


  “As long as you take Romero with you,” was his short reply.

  I swallowed my hurt and frustration. When he’d taken me to his favorite restaurant, I’d thought he’d try to make this marriage work, but it had only been a ploy to get me into bed. And now he punished me with the silent treatment.

  But I didn’t need him, never would. I listened to his rhythmic breathing, pretending to be asleep. Shortly before I drifted off to sleep, the mattress shifted as he left the bed. Part of me wanted to stop him, but I remained silent.

  I awoke in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Luca’s arm was wrapped around me, my body spooned by his. I could have pulled away, but his closeness felt too good. A part of me still wanted this marriage to work.

  * * *

  I missed Gianna and Lily so much, it was almost a physical thing.

  Romero tried to be invisible, but he was always there. “Do you want to go shopping?”

  I almost laughed. Did he think shopping made everything better? Maybe that worked for some people, but definitely not for me. “No, but I’d like to grab something to eat. Gianna sent me an email with a few restaurants she wants to try when she visits. I’d like to go to one of them today.”

  Romero looked uncertain for an instant, and I exploded. “I asked Luca for permission a couple of nights ago, so you don’t have to worry. I’m allowed to leave this prison.”

  He frowned. “I know. He told me.”

  This was ridiculous. I left him standing in the middle of the living area and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom. I quickly changed into a nice summer dress and sandals, then grabbed my bag and sunglasses before heading back down. Romero hadn’t moved from his spot. Why couldn’t he pretend he was something other than my bodyguard?

  “Let’s go,” I ordered. If he wanted to act like my bodyguard, I’d treat him that way. Romero pulled a jacket over his shirt to hide his holster, then pushed the elevator button. We didn’t talk during the ride down. This was actually the first time I saw the lobby of the apartment building. It was sleek, black marble, modern art, white high-gloss counter behind which a middle-aged receptionist in a black suit sat. He inclined his head toward Romero before his eyes zoomed in on me with obvious curiosity. “Good day, Mrs. Vitiello,” he said in an overly polite voice. I almost stumbled at hearing him call me that. It was easy to forget I wasn’t a Scuderi anymore. After all, my husband never seemed to be present.

  I nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly rushed outside. Heat blasted against my body as I left the air-conditioned building. Summer in the city, nothing to be excited about. The smell of exhaust and garbage seemed to carry through the streets like fog. Romero was a step behind me, and I wondered how he could bear the heat in his outfit.

  “I think we need to take a taxi,” I said, as I stepped toward the curb. Romero shook his head, but I’d already raised my arm, and a taxi swerved to the side and stopped beside me.

  * * *

  Romero hung a few steps back, his alert gaze on my back. It was driving me crazy. People were giving us strange looks. “Can you please walk beside me?” I asked as we walked down Greenwich Street where the restaurant was. “I don’t want people to think you’re guarding me.” He was probably still pissed that I’d made him take a taxi, instead of the black BMW that screamed mafia from afar.

  “I’m guarding you.”

  I stopped until he fell into step beside me. The outside of the restaurant was surrounded by wildflowers growing in terra-cotta pots, and the inside reminded me of British pubs I’d read about. It seemed as if every single waiter was tattooed, and the tables were set so closely together you could have eaten from your neighbor’s plate. I could see why Gianna would love it.

  Romero’s lips twisted in obvious disapproval. It was probably a bodyguard’s nightmare. “Do you have a reservation?” a tall woman with a septum piercing asked.

  “No.” Romero narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe someone was actually asking something like that. I loved it. Here I was only Aria. “But it’s just the two of us. And we won’t take long,” I said politely.

  The woman looked between Romero and me, then smiled. “You have one hour. You are a cute couple.”

  She turned to lead us toward our table, which was why she didn’t see Romero’s expression. “Why didn’t you correct her?” he asked quietly.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because we aren’t a couple. You are Luca’s.”

  “I am. And I’m not.”

  Romero didn’t argue again, but I could tell it made him uncomfortable to act like we were anything but bodyguard and his boss’s wife. I ate a salad with the most delicious dressing and enjoyed watching the people around us, while Romero ate a burger and monitored our surroundings. I couldn’t wait to take Gianna here. Sadness filled me at the thought. I had never been so lonely in my life. Only two days into my new life, and I really didn’t know how to survive the many thousands of days that would follow. “So Luca will be home late again tonight?”

  “I suppose,” Romero said evasively.

  After we’d eaten, I forced Romero to stroll through the neighborhood of the restaurant for a bit longer, but eventually I got frustrated with his stiff posture and obvious discomfort, and agreed to return to the apartment.

  * * *

  When the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment building, Romero paid the driver and I slipped out of the car. As I approached the glass front, I noticed one of Luca’s cousins sitting inside the lobby. What was she doing here? We hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other at the wedding, and I hadn’t gotten the impression that she was interested in friendship. Confused, I stepped into the lobby. Cosima’s eyes snapped to me, and she walked up to me without hesitation. To my surprise, she hugged me, then she pressed something into my hand. “Here. Don’t let Romero or anyone else see it. Now smile.”

  I did, stunned. I could feel a folded piece of paper and what felt like a key in my palm. I quickly stashed them in my purse when Romero appeared beside me. “What are you doing here, Cosima?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

  She flashed her teeth at him. “I wanted to see how Aria was doing and asked her if we could meet for lunch soon. But now I need to go. I have a hair appointment.” She gave me a warning look, then she walked out, high heels clacking on the marble floor.

  Romero was watching me. “What did she say?”

  “What she told you,” I said, raising my chin. “I want to go up now.” He wanted me to act like his boss, so he couldn’t expect me to open up to him. He nodded and led me toward the elevator with a curt nod toward the two receptionists.

  The moment we entered the penthouse, I excused myself and headed into the guest bathroom. I pulled out what Cosima had given me and unfolded the piece of paper.

  Aria,

  The key is for one of the apartments the Vitiellos own. Come over tonight at ten p.m. to see what your husband is really up to while you warm his bed. Be careful and quiet, and don’t tell anyone. Romero will try to stop you. Shake him off.

  The address was at the bottom of the page. The note wasn’t signed and it was written with a computer. Was it from Cosima? It would make sense. I read it over and over again. It could be a trick, or worse, a trap, but curiosity burned through me. Luca hadn’t exactly been the most present husband so far. The only problem was how to get to the apartment and how to get rid of Romero. He never left my side.

  * * *

  I convinced Romero to take me out to dinner at a restaurant that, according to Google maps, was only a five-minute walk from the address Cosima had given me. When Romero used the guest bathroom in our apartment, I used the moment to take a small gun Luca kept in one of the top drawers in the walk-in closet. I’d noticed it when I’d unpacked my suitcases and folded my clothes into drawers. I hid it in the side pocket of my bag. Even though I didn’t have much experience with guns, I knew how to handle them in theory. Better safe than sorry.

  * *
*

  It was a quarter past nine. Romero and I had just finished our starter, when I stood to head for the bathroom. Romero pushed back his chair and was about to stand as well.

  I glared. “You won’t follow me to the bathroom. Do you think I’ll get lost on the way? People will be staring. Nobody knows who I am here. I’m safe.”

  Romero sank back down. The bathroom was past a corner, closer to the door than our table. I slipped out of the restaurant, took flats from my purse and put them on. Then I hurried toward the address. It would take at least five minutes before Romero would venture toward the bathroom, and hopefully even longer before he’d barge in to check on me.

  When I arrived in front of the brownstone building, I hesitated. It didn’t have a reception, only a narrow corridor and a steep staircase. Then I took a deep breath and entered. The key said the apartment was on the third floor. I took the elevator hidden in a dark corner behind the stairs. During the ride up, doubt overcame me. Maybe I shouldn’t have listened to the letter. The elevator came to a halt and the door rattled open. My eyes darted to the button that would take me back to the ground floor, but instead I stepped out and found the apartment door. It wasn’t completely shut.

  My heart fluttered with fear. This seemed like a really bad idea, but curiosity was stronger than worry. I pushed the door open and peered in. The living room was dark and empty, but light was coming from somewhere else. I rested my hand on the gun in my purse, then crept further in, but froze when I heard a woman cry out. “Yes! Harder!”

  Dread settled in me as I followed the voice. I had heard it before. The light was spilling out of an open door. I stopped in front of it, hesitating. I could still turn around and pretend I’d never received the letter. Another moan drifted out of the room, and I peeked inside. Heat rushed up my face, then seemed to drain out of my body completely. Grace Parker was on her knees and forearms on the bed while Luca fucked her from behind. The slaps of his body hitting her ass filled the silence, only occasionally disrupted by her encouraging cries and moans. Luca’s eyes were closed as his fingers dug into her hips and he rammed into her over and over again. Grace turned her head to meet my eyes, and smiled triumphantly. Bile traveled up my throat. So this was what Luca had been up to the last two nights.

  For a crazy moment, I considered taking the gun out and throwing it at her head. I wouldn’t shoot her, even if I wanted to. I wasn’t a mobster. I wasn’t Luca. My shoulders slumped and I took a step back. I needed to get away. Luca’s eyes shot open, hand reaching for a gun on the bed beside him, but then he found me. He jerked, then froze.

  “What’s the matter, Luca?” Grace asked, wiggling her ass against him. He was still buried inside her. Luca and I stared at each other, and I could feel tears gathering in my eyes.

  I whirled around and ran. I needed to get away. Just away. The moment I stepped out of the elevator on the first floor, I began shaking, but I didn’t stop. I rushed outside, almost bumping into Romero, who must have followed my phone’s GPS. He stumbled back, looked at my face, then at the building, and his eyes widened. He knew. Everyone seemed to know, except for stupid me.

  I stormed away, running faster than I’d ever run in my life. When I crossed the street toward the underground station, I caught a glimpse of Luca in an unbuttoned shirt and pants staggering out of the door. Romero was already chasing me.

  But I was fast. Years of working out on the treadmill finally paid off. I practically flew down the steps, fumbling for the Metro card my sisters and I had purchased before the wedding, after we’d forced Umberto to show us the subway. I managed to squeeze into the already closing doors of a subway wagon. I wasn’t even sure where it was going. But as I saw Luca and Romero heading for the tracks, all that mattered was that it was taking me away. Away from the triumphant smile Grace had given me, from the sound of Luca’s body pounding her ass, from his betrayal.

  On our wedding night I’d told Luca I didn’t hate him. I wished he’d ask me again tonight. I sank down on a free seat, but I was still shaking. Where was I going?

  I couldn’t run away. Luca was probably already sending every soldier at his disposal after me. I let out a choked laugh and got a few strange looks from other passengers. What did they know? They were free.

  I grabbed my mobile and called Gianna. She answered at the second ring. “Aria?”

  “I caught Luca in bed with Grace.” More people looked my way. What did it even matter? They didn’t know who I was. The wedding announcements in the newspaper had never included a photo of me. I really didn’t need any more attention.

  “Holy fuck.”

  “Yeah.” I got out at the next station as I began telling the whole story to Gianna. I quickly moved away from the subway, because that would be the place they’d look first. Eventually I landed in a loud and dark place where burgers and beer were sold. I ordered a Coke and a burger, though I had no intention of drinking or eating.

  “Where are you now?” Gianna asked.

  “Somewhere. I don’t even know. In a restaurant, sort of.”

  “Be careful.” I didn’t say anything. “Are you crying?”

  I was. Again I stayed silent.

  “Don’t. Not when I’m not around to console you and kick Luca’s fucking ass. I knew he was an asshole. Fucking bastard. You haven’t slept with him yet, right?”

  “No, I haven’t. That’s probably why he’s off cheating on me.”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Aria. Any decent man would have kept his dick in his pants or used his hand.”

  The burger and Coke arrived, and I thanked the waitress who lingered beside my table for a couple of seconds, her gaze focusing on my tears. I gave her a smile and she finally took the hint and left.

  “What will you do now? Are you thinking of coming back home?”

  “Do you really think Father will let me leave Luca because he cheated on me? Father has had a mistress for years.” Nor would Luca allow it. I was his, as Romero never ceased to remind me.

  “Men are all pigs.”

  “I can’t forget the look Grace gave me. She looked like she’d won.”

  “She wanted you to see it—she wanted to humiliate you.” Gianna fell silent. “You are the wife of the future Capo dei Capi. If someone humiliates you, they are practically insulting Luca.”

  “Well, he was busy helping her insult me.”

  Gianna snorted. “I hope his dick falls off.”

  “I’m not holding my breath.”

  “I bet Romero’s getting his ass kicked for letting you slip away. Serves him right.”

  I almost felt sorry for Romero, but then I reminded myself that he’d known about Grace all along. It had been written all over his face. God, how many people knew? Were they all laughing about me behind my back?

  “Are you talking to Aria?” I could hear Lily’s excited voice in the background.

  “That’s none of your business. Get out of my room, you little snoop.”

  “I want to talk to her! She’s my sister too!”

  “Not now. This is private.” There was shouting, then the bang of a door, followed by fists hammering against wood. My heart swelled with warmth and I smiled. This had been my life not too long ago. Now I only had a cheating husband to return to.

  “So what now?” Gianna asked eventually.

  “I honestly don’t know.” I paid and left the restaurant, returning to roaming the streets. It was dark, but they were still crowded with people on their way home from dinner or heading to a club or bar.

  “You can’t let him treat you like that. You must fight back.”

  “I don’t know if fighting Luca is something I want to do.”

  “What can he do to you? You aren’t his enemy or his soldier, and he said he didn’t beat women, nor would he force himself on you. What’s left? Lock you in your room without dinner?”

  I sighed.

  “Maybe you should cheat on him. Go to a club, find a hot guy and sleep with him.”


  That would go over well with Luca. “He’d kill him. I don’t want blood on my hands.”

  “Then do something else. I don’t care as long as you pay Luca back for what he’s doing to you. He’ll probably just keep cheating on you. Fight back.”

  But Gianna was the fighter. I preferred subtle tactics. “I should get rid of this phone now. I need more time to think and don’t want Luca to track me down.”

  “Call me as soon as you can. No matter the time. If I don’t hear from you tomorrow morning, I don’t care who I have to take down to fly to New York.”

  “Okay. Love you.” Before Gianna could say any more, I turned my phone off, disabled it and threw it into a dustbin before walking the streets aimlessly. It was past midnight and I was getting tired. The only thing that kept me going was the image of Luca going crazy because he couldn’t find me. He hated not being in control. And now I’d slipped away from him. I wished I could see it.

  I bought a coffee and wrapped my fingers around the warm paper cup as I leaned against the facade of the diner and let my eyes wander over the thinning number of passersby. Every time a couple walked past me, holding hands, kissing and laughing and being in love, my chest tightened. My eyes burnt from exhaustion and my earlier crying. I was so tired.

  I hailed a taxi and let it take me to our apartment building. As I stepped into the lobby, the receptionist immediately picked up the phone. Good dog, I wanted to say. Instead I twisted my mouth into a smile and stepped into the elevator, then slipped in the card so it would take me to the right floor. I was almost calm now, at least on the outside. Was Luca in the penthouse? Or was he out hunting me? Or maybe he’d returned to his whore and let his men do the work for him. When I’d woken with Luca’s arms around me, or when he’d kissed me, I’d let myself believe that maybe I could make him love me. When we’d had dinner together, I’d thought I could fall for him.

 

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