by Cora Reilly
Matteo
Gianna didn’t say a fucking thing as if she couldn’t care less what I did to her.
I tightened my hold on her wrists to see if she would finally show some of that fire I was used to from her, but despite a small wince she didn’t react.
I hated what she’d done to her hair. It was light brown, no longer the fiery red I loved. At least, she hadn’t cut it off.
My eyes were drawn to the sliver of naked stomach that peeked out where her shirt had ridden up. The thought that someone else had touched her there, had touched her everywhere made me want to tear everything down.
She was supposed to be mine. Mine alone.
For a moment, the fury was so blinding I wanted to hurt her, wanted to show her that she belonged to me, wanted to fuck her so hard that she forgot everything else. I gripped her waist, my fingers brushing over her soft skin. Mine. Only mine from now on. Her father had told me I could use her as I saw fit before I took her back to him. Nobody would blink an eye if I took from her what had been mine for the taking in the first place. She tensed under my touch but still didn’t say anything. Her eyes were resigned. No hint of her usual temper.
She didn’t fight me, didn’t do anything. She reminded me of a ragdoll. She probably waited for me to do what everyone expected me to do, to fuck her even if she was unwilling, to hurt her until she begged me for forgiveness. And I could have done it but I didn’t want to. Despite what she’d done and how bad she’d made me look, I still wanted her, and not just her body.
“Being submissive isn’t like you,” I said quietly. Her pulse sped under my fingertips. It was the only sign that she wasn’t as indifferent as her expression made me want to believe. Maybe she didn’t care what happened to her because she was heartbroken over the bastard I’d found her with.
The idea sent a new spike of wrath through me and I quickly released her before I lost control. I slid off her and sat on the edge of the mattress, trying to ignore the look of surprise and shock crossing her face. I glared at the floor, clenching and unclenching my hands. If Carmine hadn’t killed the fucker, I would probably have done it. I still wanted to do it, wanted to slice the part of his brain out that harbored the memory of Gianna’s body under him.
Gianna sat up slowly, carefully as if she thought I might attack if she moved too fast. “Aren’t you going to rape and torture me?”
I almost laughed. That’s what everyone expected. Most men in our world even thought she deserved it. I turned to her, my gaze tracing her beautiful face. Even more beautiful than my memory had made me believe, even now when she was pale and her eyes were puffy from tears.
“Did you think I would?” I asked in a surprisingly calm voice. Some of my anger was suddenly gone now that she was watching me with her wide blue eyes.
“Yes. My father’s men definitely thought you would. Didn’t you see their expressions? They probably hope that you’ll give them a go at me once you’re done with me.”
Of course, they’d told me so numerous times while we’d been on the hunt. I knew what they thought was happening right now. Fuck, part of me wished they were right. I wasn’t a good guy. “I don’t give a fuck about your father’s men, and I don’t give a fuck about your father. And if they lay a single finger on you, I’m going to kill them. They won’t hurt you, nobody will.”
Her brows crinkled. “Once I’m back in Chicago, Father will punish me.”
Did she really think I’d hand her over to her asshole of a father? I hadn’t hunted her for sixth months only to give her up. I smirked. “You aren’t going back to Chicago, Gianna. You are coming to New York with me.”
Hope and relief crossed her face. “To Aria? Is she alright? Did she get in trouble because she helped me?”
Somehow her response annoyed me. “Aria is fine,” I said, before I stood and walked toward the window. I kept my back to her when I asked, “That guy, did you love him?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she said “yes.” I couldn’t hurt that fucker anymore, and I didn’t want to hurt her, so what could I do? Kill someone else, preferably the two assholes from the Outfit who’d been grating on my nerves for too long, and maybe while I was at it, I’d kill her fucking father the next time I saw him.
“Sid?” she asked in a shaky voice, and I almost lost it right then. I scowled at her over my shoulder. Her eyes were actually moist with fucking tears.
“I don’t care what his name was,” I growled.
Fuck, I wanted to kill that guy so badly. I’d have paid a billion dollars if there were a way to resurrect the asshole, only so I could kill him again. Slowly, painfully.
“His name was Sid,” she said stubbornly, a familiar glint returning to her eyes.
She still hadn’t answered my question. “Did you love him?”
“No,” she said without hesitation. “I barely knew him.” I would have rejoiced if she hadn’t started biting her lower lip like she was fighting tears. She looked fucking sad and then a tear slid out of her left eye. She blinked a few times.
“If you didn’t love him, then why are you crying?”
She glared. Glared, as if she was the one with reason to be angry. “You really don’t know?”
“I’m a Made Man, Gianna. I’ve seen many people die, have killed many myself.” And right now I wanted to kill again more than anything else in the world.
“Sid didn’t deserve to die. He died because of me. He never did anything wrong.”
What the fuck? Really? “He touched the wrong girl. He died for touching what wasn’t his to touch.”
Gianna shook her head. “You wanted to kill him yourself, didn’t you? That’s why you stopped Stan? Not because you wanted to spare Sid’s life.”
Did that really come as a surprise to her? For someone who was convinced I and every other member of the mob were monsters, she seemed oddly surprised by my desire to kill the asshole who’d pawed at my fiancée.
Before I could reply, my phone rang. Luca’s name flashed on my screen. I had only sent him a short text while I was in the car. He’d tried calling me but, except for a quick talk to the pilot of our private jet, I hadn’t been in the mood to speak to anyone, but knowing Luca he wouldn’t give up. Stifling a groan, I picked up, turning away from Gianna again.
“A text with ‘I got her,’ that’s all I get from you?” he said angrily.
“I was busy.”
I could hear Aria’s high voice in the background, but thankfully Luca didn’t put her on. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to a hysterical woman, least of all the woman who’d helped my fiancée escape in the first place. It was early morning in New York, couldn’t Luca have let his wife sleep in for once?
“With what?” He paused. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to fucking know.”
“Did he hurt her?” Aria asked loud enough for me to hear.
I didn’t say anything.
Luca lowered his voice. “Is she alive?”
“Fuck you.”
“I take that as a yes.”
Aria was still speaking in the background.
“Tell your wife that her sister is fine.”
“Gianna is fine,” Luca said in a muffled voice, then to me. “When will you be back?”
“The flight leaves in less than two hours.”
“You’re flying directly to Chicago to meet Scuderi. Right?”
“He already called you, didn’t he?” I said. Stan and Carmine had definitely sent their boss a message after we’d caught Gianna. That meant, of course, that he knew about Sid too.
“Of course, he did. His daughter has been on the run for six months. This is big news.”
“Don’t tell me he’s happy to have her back.”
“No, at least not for the same reason Aria is. He wants to see her punished. She made him lose face and you too. From what I heard you caught her with another guy. You realize the news will spread like wildfire. Scuderi is eager to make a public show out of punishing Gianna. He expe
cts you to help him with it.”
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t give a fuck. I’m not taking her to Chicago. If he wants to talk to her, he can come to New York.”
“You want to protect her after what she did?”
“Yes.”
“Matteo, this is Outfit business. She isn’t your wife, and nobody expects you to marry her after she went around fucking with half of Europe.”
“Careful,” I hissed.
“Damn it. Can’t you just get over her? Fuck her, it’s not like it matters anymore, and then hand her back to her father.”
“Is Aria still around to hear you talk about her sister like that?” I asked.
“No. I need to think about the Famiglia. Gianna brought this upon herself. You have to take her to Chicago, Matteo. I won’t risk war over her.”
“Fuck you, Luca. You are my fucking brother. Shouldn’t you be on my fucking side?”
“Not when you’ve lost your fucking mind.”
“Fuck you.”
Luca sighed on the other end. “Listen, I’m not saying that you should abandon her. Take her to Chicago and pretend you’re delivering her to her father. Then make a deal with him. She’s still promised to you, so he won’t refuse you. He’ll probably be glad to have her off his hands. Aria and I will be flying over there too. I’m emailing our pilot right this moment. You won’t have to deal with this alone.”
“Okay, I’m taking her to Chicago. But I’m not leaving without her, no matter what Scuderi says. She’s mine.”
“Alright, but I doubt there will be any problems. And believe me, I have no interest in letting Gianna get hurt by her father. Aria loves her sister, and I want Aria to be happy, so I won’t let Scuderi kill or hurt her. We will bring her back to New York with us, even as your wife if that’s really what you want.”
“You’ll go against Scuderi if he disagrees for some reason?”
“I will. For you and for Aria.”
“Swear it.”
Luca sighed again. “I swear it. You and Aria are going to be the death of me.”
I almost smiled but hung up. When I turned back around to Gianna, she was watching me with an anxious expression, which she tried to mask the moment I looked at her but she didn’t quite manage. Sometimes in the last few months I’d been sure I wouldn’t find her, that she was too clever; I was glad that I’d been wrong. “Tradition dictates that I hand you over to the Outfit and your father.”
Fear flashed across her face. Gianna wasn’t stupid; she knew what might happen to her if her father got his will. I wasn’t sure if Dante Cavallaro would intervene, and I didn’t give a fuck. Protectiveness washed over me. They had no right to decide about her fate. This was my chance to show her that she’d been wrong to run away, that I was the right guy for her. For a long time she stared at me, her face unguarded and vulnerable. This was a side of her I’d only seen twice before: when Aria had been drugged and when Gianna had been in the hands of the Russians. I was still angry at her, still fucking furious, especially because I knew she’d run away again if I gave her the chance, but part of me was simply glad to have her back.
“I will take you to Chicago, but I won’t leave your side, Gianna. I won’t give you the chance to run from me again.”
Gianna
After what had happened today, I wasn’t sure I’d ever risk another escape.
Matteo’s phone rang again and he cursed. I was glad for the distraction. The intensity of his gaze had spoken to a part of me I’d tried to fight ever since the kiss. I lay back down, but the moment I closed my eyes, images of Sid’s body flashed through my mind. Even if Matteo hadn’t killed him, that didn’t mean it wasn’t his fault. He’d have done the same if Carmine hadn’t acted first.
I must have dozed off because I jerked violently when something touched my arm. My eyes flew open and I found Matteo hovering over me. He straightened with a wry smile. “Sid’s death doesn’t seem to bother you too much if you can fall asleep like that.”
I sat up, glaring, knowing he was being cruel on purpose, but at the same time wondering if it was true. Was I that callous? Was I more like Matteo than I wanted to admit? No. I had dreamed about Sid’s death, and my chest felt like it was in a vise when I thought about him.
“We need to get going. Our flight leaves soon.” Matteo grasped my wrist to pull me to my feet but I wrenched it away, suddenly angry. Matteo reached for me again, jerked me to my feet and against his body. “Careful, Gianna. Less than two hours ago I saw you messing around with another guy. I pride myself for my control but there is a limit to what I will take from you.”
I swallowed my words and let Matteo lead me out of the room. Stan and Carmine were already waiting in the corridor. Their eyes scanned me from head to toe then Stan said, “She’s still surprisingly unscathed. If my fiancée had gone around fucking other men, I’d have beaten her to a bloody pulp.”
“Do I look like I care about your fucking opinion?” Matteo asked dangerously. I chanced a look at him, wondering why exactly he wasn’t doing what Stan had suggested. I decided to keep my mouth shut for now. Self-preservation wasn’t my strong suite, but I wasn’t completely suicidal, even if death might be preferable to what Father had in mind for me.
Twenty minutes later we boarded the private jet of the Outfit and I took a seat next to the window. Matteo sat across from me but he didn’t make conversation. Nobody tried to speak to me throughout the entire flight. I had a feeling Matteo was using the time to calm down. Occasionally I’d catch him watching me but I couldn’t read the look in his eyes. When I rose halfway through the flight to go to the toilet, Matteo stood as well.
I swallowed a comment and walked toward the toilet in the rear. When Matteo didn’t back off even as I opened the door, I couldn’t hold back any more. Self-preservation be damned. “Are you going to watch me pee? It’s not like I can escape by jumping off the plane.”
“I wouldn’t put it past you to try and kick a hole into the wall of the plane to kill us all.”
Was he being serious? The corner of his mouth twitched but then his expression hardened again. For a moment our eyes were locked, then I quickly stepped into the small toilet and closed the door. Matteo didn’t stop me but I knew he’d be waiting for me and probably listen for strange noises.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. Fear and sadness raged in my body, and it was getting increasingly difficult not to break down into a sobbing mess. I almost wished Matteo had manhandled me. Why did he have to act like a decent human being?
“What are you doing? Don’t force me to kick in that fucking door,” Matteo muttered.
Not even caring that he would hear me, I took care of business before I stepped back out two minutes later. Matteo’s eyes wandered over me as if he was looking for a sign that I was up to something. I would have laughed if I thought I could.
We returned to our seats and resumed our silence.
My stomach was in knots when we landed in Chicago. I hadn’t gotten a minute of sleep while we were in the air. The knowledge that I would have to face Father soon kept me wide awake. Only yesterday, I’d eaten pizza with my flat mates and made plans for a trip to Croatia in the summer, and now my life was once again out of my control. Even worse, I might very well face harsh punishment from the Outfit. Matteo really had no reason to protect me from Father’s wrath. And even if he tried, why would Luca allow him to risk a conflict with the Outfit over me? I was less than vermin in their eyes.
The private jet came to a stop and Matteo got to his feet and motioned for me to do the same. My legs shook as I followed him toward the door, which was already gliding open. Cold air blasted against my face. Snow dusted the landing strip and the surrounding buildings. It was around 4 p.m., but I felt as if it was the middle of the night. Matteo grabbed my wrist, giving me a warning look. “Don’t run. Don’t do anything stupid. Your father’s men are looking for a chance to hurt you. I’d kill them of course but that won’t help you.”
&
nbsp; Was he actually worried about me? Matteo was an enigma. I wasn’t sure why he was so interested in me. I had a feeling it was his pride. He couldn’t accept that I didn’t want him, so he’d force me to marry him even if I didn’t want it, even if he didn’t want me anymore. If he really cared about me, he would let me go. No, this was a power play. Emotions had nothing to do with it.
“Don’t worry. I want to see Aria.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t the right moment for your snark to return. Your father won’t appreciate it.”
Then why was he almost smiling if he thought it was such a bad idea? The door was fully down and Matteo led me down the few stairs, his fingers around my wrist unwavering. I felt like a toddler who did her first steps. Annoyance battled with worry in my body, but before I could decide if I wanted to risk a retort I spotted a familiar blonde head. Aria. She stood beside Luca, and when she saw me she started running.
I peered up at Matteo pleadingly but he didn’t let me go and kept leading me toward Aria in unhurried steps. When my sister had almost reached us, he released me and I rushed toward Aria. We collided almost painfully. I crushed Aria against me, hugging her as tightly as possible and she did the same in return. “Oh, Gianna, I was so scared for you. I’m so glad you’re here.” She was crying and my own face was wet with tears. God, I’d missed her.
After a moment, she pulled back, her eyes doing a quick scan, lingering on my new hair color. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
I brushed a few strands of her blonde locks away from her face, suddenly feeling like breaking down sobbing. Regret weighed heavy on my mind. I should have never run. Seeing Aria’s worried face was another reminder. If I’d stayed, if I’d married Matteo, then Sid would still be alive, and Aria wouldn’t have had to worry for months. Why did I have to want the freedom to make my own decisions?