by Cora Reilly
“What do you mean he’s giving you to Matteo?”
“Salvatore Vitiello spoke to Father and told him that Matteo wanted to marry me. And Father agreed!”
“Did Father say why? I don’t understand. I’m already in New York. He didn’t need to marry you off to the Famiglia too.”
“I don’t know why. Maybe Father wants to punish me for saying what I think. He knows how much I despise our men, and how much I hate Matteo. He wants to see me suffer.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. I didn’t really hate Matteo, at least not more than I hated every other Made Man. I hated what he stood for and what he did, hated that he had asked Father for my hand like my opinion didn’t matter.
“Oh, Gianna. I’m so sorry. Maybe I can tell Luca and he can change Matteo’s mind.”
“Aria, don’t be naïve. Luca knew all along. He’s Matteo’s brother and the future Capo. Something like that isn’t decided without him being involved.”
“When did they make the decision?”
After I was stupid enough to kiss him. “A few weeks ago, even before I came to visit.” I couldn’t tell her that it had happened at her wedding. Aria would only figure out a way to blame herself for my misery.
“I can’t believe him! I’m going to kill him. He knows how much I love you. He knows I wouldn’t have allowed it. I would have done anything to prevent the agreement.”
Aria sounded remarkably like me in that moment, and while my heart swelled with love for her because of her willingness to protect me, I couldn’t allow it. Maybe Aria didn’t see it, but Luca was a monster and I didn’t want her to get hurt, not for me, not when it was already too late. “Don’t get in trouble because of me. It’s too late anyway. New York and Chicago shook hands on it. It’s a made deal, and Matteo won’t let me out of his clutches.”
And I knew it to be true. Even if he decided he didn’t want me, he would never admit it. I’d always thought I could evade marriage, had always thought I could figure out a way to go to college, to find a life away from the mob world.
“I want to help you, but I don’t know how,” Aria said miserably.
“I love you, Aria. The only thing that stops me from cutting my wrists right now is the knowledge that my marriage to Matteo means I’ll live in New York with you.” I’d never considered suicide a valid option, had never felt miserable enough to do it, but sometimes it felt like the only choice I had left in my life, the only way to decide my own fate and to ruin Father’s plans was actually when to end it. But I’d never actually go through with it. I couldn’t hurt my siblings like that, and regardless of my hopeless future, I clung to life too much.
“Gianna, you are the strongest person I know. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. If you hurt yourself, I couldn’t live with myself.”
“You are much stronger than me, Aria. I have a big mouth and flashy bravado, but you are resilient. You married Luca, you live with a man like him. I don’t think I could have done it. I don’t think I can.” I’d seen glimpses of Matteo’s darkness in New York when he’d offered to kill Aria’s attacker to make me happy, and afterwards in his eyes when he’d been covered in blood like Luca. There hadn’t been regret or guilt in his gaze then. Sometimes I thought he was the more dangerous of the two because he was less in control. Sometimes I thought he hid how messed up he was with his outgoing personality.
“We’ll figure it out, Gianna,” Aria said.
I knew she couldn’t do anything.
* * *
That evening Matteo fucking Vitiello actually dared to call my phone. I ignored him. There was no way in hell that I’d talk to him. Not after what he’d done. If he thought this was over, if he thought he’d won, then he had another thing coming.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matteo
I was ready for this fucking day to be over. First Father’s funeral, and now hours of discussion with the Cavallaros and Scuderis about ways to keep the Russians at bay and to show them who was boss. It wasn’t like I needed time to grieve. Luca and I hadn’t harbored any feelings except for contempt and hatred for our father in a very long time but I wasn’t a fan of funerals and everything they entailed. Especially seeing my stepmother cry her fake tears had grated on my fucking nerves. Did she really think anyone believed she actually missed her sadistic husband? She’d probably spit on his carcass when nobody was looking. It’s what I wanted to do.
The only good thing about this whole ordeal had been Gianna who had to attend the funeral with her family. She’d ignored my calls ever since she’d found out about our marriage a week ago, but she couldn’t avoid me forever. I was actually looking forward to our first private encounter. I loved when she was angry.
After the meeting, I was on my way to my motorcycle when I heard steps behind me. I turned, finding Luca running my way, the phone pressed against his ear and a thunderous look on his face.
Before I could ask him what had crawled up his ass, he lowered the phone and said, “Cesare called. The Russians are attacking the mansion. Romero is trying to get everyone to safety, but there are too many attackers.”
“Where are Gianna and Aria?”
“I don’t fucking know. We’ll have to take a helicopter.”
I followed Luca toward his car. He floored the gas the moment we both had sat down. We should have never let Aria and Gianna leave for the Hamptons without us. We’d thought they’d be safer there. We’d thought our enemies would attack in the city where so many members of the Outfit and the Famiglia had gathered to honor my father. We’d been fucking idiots.
Luca hit the steering wheel. “I’m going to hunt down every fucking Russian if they hurt Aria.”
“I’ll be at your side,” I said. I didn’t care how many Russians I’d have to cut into tiny pieces to get to Gianna. Damn it.
* * *
When we finally landed near our mansion in the Hamptons, Luca and I didn’t speak. We both knew we might be too late. “They are fine,” I said to Luca.
We got out of the helicopter and shot our way free until we reached the lobby of the mansion. I pulled my knife out of the throat of some asshole and straightened when one of the Russian bastards shouted from inside.
“We have your wife, Vitiello. If you want to see her in one piece you better stop fighting and drop your weapons.”
Luca glanced my way. “Don’t do anything stupid, Matteo.”
“You aren’t the only one with something to lose,” I said grimly. “Gianna is in there too.”
Luca gave a nod then slowly walked forward. I followed a few steps behind him. My eyes found Aria first. One of the Russian underbosses, a fucker named Vitali, was holding a knife against her throat. Luca would kill the bastard.
“So this is your wife, Vitiello?” Vitali asked, but I barely listened.
Gianna was sprawled out on the floor, a huge bruise on her forehead. I could tell that she was trembling, from fear or pain, I wasn’t sure. Her blue eyes met mine. A huge Russian asshole towered over her. Bloodlust filled my body. I twisted my knives in my hands, trying to decide which part of the Russian’s body I’d slice off first, probably the hand he’d used to hit her.
Gianna didn’t take her eyes off me, like she knew I was going to make this all okay. I wouldn’t let any of those fuckers hurt her now that I was here. And by God, I’d make them pay, make them regret the day they’d laid eyes on Gianna, make them regret the day they were fucking born.
“Let her go, Vitali,” Luca snarled.
“I don’t think so,” Vitali said in that fucking annoying accent. “You took something that belongs to us, Vitiello, and now I have something that belongs to you. I want to know where it is.” I wasn’t sure what the Bratva bastard did because I kept my eyes on Gianna’s captor and the assholes behind him but Luca took a threatening step forward, then stopped.
“Put your guns down or I’ll cut her throat.”
When pigs learn to fly, motherfucker.
There was a thud, then another. My eyes fle
w to Luca, who’d dropped his fucking guns to the floor. I couldn’t believe it. He narrowed his eyes at me.
Was he serious? From the look on his face, he was. I put my knives down slowly. Gianna closed her eyes as if she thought everything was over. It wasn’t over, far from it. Not before I’d killed every fucking asshole in the room and made them regret the day they were born.
“Your wife tastes delicious. I wonder if she tastes this delicious everywhere,” Vitali said as he pulled Aria against him like he was going to kiss her. I could tell that Luca was seconds away from attacking.
The Russian asshole behind Gianna nudged her butt with his shoe and grinned. His foot would be the second thing I’d cut off, and I’d take my fucking time killing him.
Vitali licked Aria’s chin. She looked like she was going to be sick. Then she reached into her back pocket and pulled a switchblade out. Where the hell had she found it? The moment she rammed it into Vitali’s thigh, I fell to my knees, gripped my gun with my left hand and one of my knives with my right hand. I shot four times in quick succession. Two bullets tore through the calves of the asshole who’d kicked Gianna, the third broke every bone in his right hand, the fourth smashed the skull of another bastard. I flung the knife at the same time. It pierced the eye socket of Russian number three.
I stormed toward Gianna, slipped my arms under her body and carried her over to the side where she was shielded by a massive wooden sideboard. I knelt in front of her and shot another Russian, then another. Gianna’s face was pressed up against my knee, and I put my palm down on the top of her head, stroking her unruly red hair.
A woman cried out. My eyes darted around until they settled on Luca who was cradling an unmoving Aria in his arms. I froze, my heart slamming against my chest.
“No!” Gianna cried hoarsely. She tried to sit up but her arms gave away and she fell against me. “Aria!”
I wrapped my arm around her and she stared up at me with terror-stricken eyes.
“Help Aria! Help her!” she whispered.
She tried to stand again. I helped her up, one arm around her waist, but didn’t let her go to her sister. Luca looked like he would kill anyone who dared to approach. There was an expression on his face I’d never seen before. Leading a life of brutality, Luca and I had the potential to snap. But until now I hadn’t thought there was anything on this planet that could actually bring Luca to the brink.
Gianna started crying. I touched her cheek. “Shh. Aria will be fine. Luca won’t let her die.”
For everyone’s sake I hoped I was right. Gianna leaned against me, hands clutching my shirt. I peered down at her.
When Aria finally opened her eyes, Gianna let out a sob and pressed her face against my chest. I cupped her head, then brushed a kiss against it. She didn’t react. She was probably in shock.
“What about Gianna, Lily, and Fabi?” Aria asked in a weak voice.
Gianna lifted her head but didn’t let go of me. “Fine.”
Luca lifted Aria into his arms and after some discussion carried her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. The doc was already on his way.
Gianna tried to stand on her own but swayed and had to grip my arm. Her eyes lost focus for a moment before they settled on me again. She didn’t say anything, only stared up at me. I lightly brushed my fingertips over the bruise on her forehead. “Is this the only place you’re hurt?”
She shrugged then winced. “My side hurts, and my ribs.”
“Hey, Matteo, what about this asshole?” Romero asked, nudging the Russian who’d kicked Gianna.
“Is he the only survivor?”
“There is at least another one,” Romero said.
“Good. But that one is mine. I’ll question him.”
“That’s the guy who hit my head,” Gianna said quietly.
“I know.”
She searched my face but I wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment but she quickly opened them again.
“You need to lie down,” I said.
She didn’t even try to protest, which was a bad sign. I tightened my hold on her and led her toward the staircase.
“Matteo?” Romero called.
I glanced over my shoulder at him and the other men. “I’ll be back in a moment. Get rid of the bodies, and take the two living Russians down into the basement.”
Romero nodded. “Okay.” Then his eyes slid to Cesare’s body on the ground. There was nothing we could do for him. I’d known him for a long time. He’d been a good, loyal soldier. The time to mourn him would come, but it wasn’t now.
I helped Gianna up the stairs, and pretty much carried her down the corridor toward one of the guest bedrooms. I really wanted to take her to the room I slept in when we were in the mansion but I didn’t want to have a fucking fight, not until Gianna was fit enough to be an equal contestant. She lay down on the bed, and closed her eyes with a groan.
I bent over her. “I want to take a look at your ribs. Don’t punch me.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. I wondered if it was because she had a concussion or if she’d finally come to terms with our impending marriage.
I pushed her shirt up, revealing inch over inch of creamy skin, but before my mind could come up with any ideas, I found the first bruises. A big one on her waist and two slightly smaller ones over her rib cage. Gently, I pressed down on the bruise on her waist but she flinched away from my touch with a hiss.
“Fuck. That hurts.”
I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t wait to go down to the basement and have a word with the asshole who’d hurt her. I slid my hands higher, lightly tracing her ribs.
She shivered. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see if your ribs are cracked,” I told her.
“You want to use your chance to grope me, admit it.” Her attempt at humor was ruined by her shaky voice but I decided to play along. She didn’t need to know that I was thinking of a way to prolong her attacker’s suffering.
I smirked. “We’ll be married in less than a year, then I can grope you whenever and wherever I want.”
Her smile died and she turned away, closing her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t come to terms with our marriage yet…
I straightened. “I need to go back down. I’ll send the doc to you when he’s done with your sister. You should catch some rest. Don’t walk around the house.”
She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t give any indication that she’d heard me at all.
I walked out, and closed the door. The doc was heading my way, one of his assistants, a young woman whose name I kept forgetting, a few steps behind him. “Where’s Aria?” he asked in his raspy, chain-smoker voice.
I pointed toward the master bedroom. “When you’re done with Aria, take a look at Gianna. I don’t think she’s seriously injured but I want to be sure.”
He gave a curt nod, not even slowing. Nobody wanted to make Luca wait.
“Call me before you go in. I want to be there when you check on Gianna.”
The doc was over sixty but that didn’t mean I wanted him alone with Gianna, not after almost losing her.
He paused briefly, pale eyes settling on me. “She’s yours?”
“Yes.”
He nodded simply then he continued toward the master bedroom. I turned and headed downstairs.
When I stepped into the basement, the two Russian survivors were tied to chairs. Tito, one of our best enforcers, leaned against one wall, his arms crossed. Romero stood beside him. Another soldier, Nino, attached a drip to the asshole I was going to tear apart. The other Russian was in slightly better shape and didn’t need a transfusion—yet. Once Tito got his hands on the poor bastard that would change too.
Tito straightened and inclined his head.
“I hope you didn’t start yet,” I said.
“We waited for you,” Tito said.
“Does it look as if Tito started his work yet?” Nino asked eagerly. The kid had a sick
fascination with torture.
“Good.” I stalked toward Gianna’s attacker. He glowered at me. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Fuck you,” he said in heavily accented English.
I smiled at Tito, Romero, and Nino. Then I unsheathed my knife and held it out for the Russian bastard to admire. “You sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”
He spit in front of my feet. “Where’s that red-haired whore? Her pussy was calling for me.”
Nino nudged Romero with an eager smile. Tito had pulled his own knife and was wiping it on his jeans.
“Tough words for a dead man,” I said lightly.
“I won’t tell you anything.”
“That’s what they all say.” I stepped closer. “Let’s see how tough you really are. Twenty minutes is the longest it ever took me to get someone’s name.”
I slammed my fist into his side, right over his left kidney. While he gasped for breath, I nodded at Tito to start his work on the other Russian bastard.
Twelve minutes later I’d learned that the man in front of me was called Boris and had been working for the Bratva in New York for six years, before that he’d been in Saint Petersburg. He was still reluctant to give me more than the basic information. I paused, staring down at his blood-covered face. “You sure you don’t have an answer to my question?”
He coughed, blood dripping down onto his shirt. “Fuck you.”
“I can do this all night, but I can promise you, it won’t be pretty.”
Gianna
I grew tired of waiting for the doc to show up. I didn’t feel very dizzy anymore, and I barely winced when I straightened. And to be honest, being alone freaked me out after what had happened today. I’d been sure we’d all die, and my body still wasn’t convinced otherwise. My pulse was fast and occasionally I broke into a sweat. All because the mob had a bone to pick with the Bratva.
I walked out of my room, then hesitated in the corridor. My eyes darted to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom was. Luca and the doc were probably still taking care of Aria. They’d send me away if I tried to walk in, or worse lock me into the guest bedroom so I couldn’t wander the house. I decided to go in search for Lily and Fabi instead. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and sent my sister a text.