by Cora Reilly
Aria gave her husband an incredulous look, but I wasn’t surprised that I wouldn’t be allowed to dress in white. As if I gave a damn. For all I cared I would marry naked. I didn’t want any of this. And I didn’t give a fuck about their stupid traditions. They acted like they were doing me a favor, as if I was a criminal on death row who was handed a pardon on a silver platter. I’d done nothing wrong, nothing compared to what each of the men in this room had done.
“She’s probably let every man in Europe have her, and you still want her?” Father asked again. I knew he was doing it to shame me and hurt me, and I hated it that he wasn’t entirely unsuccessful.
I stared at the man who was my father, and felt nothing. I’d always known he didn’t like me much, but I’d never realized how much he despised me. I sunk my nails into the soft flesh of my palms.
Matteo stood tall with that twisted smile on his face. “I hunted her for six months. If I didn’t want her, do you really think I would have wasted so much time on her? I’ve got better things to do.”
If I heard that one more time, I’d completely lose it.
“I thought you were looking for revenge, but my men told me you didn’t lay a finger on her.” Father directed a hard look at me. “Then again, you probably didn’t want to get your hands dirty. I don’t think a simple shower is going to wash my daughter clean again.”
Aria gripped my wrist even tighter, and I halted. I hadn’t even realized I’d taken a step toward our father to do…I wasn’t even sure what I would have done. Hit him? Maybe. His words and expression made me actually feel dirty, and I hated that he had that power over me. At the same time I’d have rather thrown myself off the roof of this house than admitted that I hadn’t slept with any guy while I was on the run. That was a secret I’d protect with all my might.
“Who says I’m not still out for revenge?” Matteo asked in a dangerous voice. His dark eyes met mine. The bastard. So the concerned looks in the car had been all for show? He knew I didn’t want to marry him. He knew this was a punishment for me. Who knew what else he had in mind for me once I was in his clutches?
“I won’t marry anyone,” I snapped. “This is my life.”
Father looked livid as he stomped toward me and slapped me hard across the face. My ears rang and the taste of copper filled my mouth. A long time and many slaps ago, I would have cried.
“You will do as I say. You soiled our name and my honor enough as it is. I won’t tolerate your insolence a day longer,” he growled, his face bright red.
“What if I don’t?”
My wrist was almost numb from Aria’s crushing grip. She’d managed to position herself halfway between Father and me, despite Luca’s obvious disapproval but he was busy holding Matteo’s shirt in an iron grip.
I tried to tug Aria back but never took my eyes off Father. Aria was still trying to protect me but this was a battle she couldn’t fight for me.
Father’s hand was still raised, ready to hit me again. What would he do if I hit him back? I wished I were brave enough to find out.
“For your betrayal nobody would blink an eye if I gave you to one of the Outfit’s sex clubs, so we can make use out of your promiscuity.”
Despite my best intentions, shock widened my eyes. Dante frowned but I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
Matteo’s eyes were burning with so much hatred that the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Luca was still gripping his shoulder, stopping him from what? I wasn’t really sure. “That won’t happen. Gianna will become my wife. Today,” Matteo said.
“What? I—” I blurted but Father’s slap silenced me again. It was harder than before and his ring caught my lower lip. Pain burst through my face and warm liquid trickled down my chin.
“That’s enough,” Aria said, and suddenly Luca was pulling her back and Matteo was gripping my arm tightly and leading me out of the room and down the hall toward the bathroom. I wasn’t sure if it was the shock of what had happened or the speed in which Matteo dragged me away, but I didn’t fight him, only stumbled along, not even bothering to stop blood from dripping onto my shirt from my split lip. Matteo shoved me into the bathroom, then entered after me and locked the door.
I stared at my image in the mirror. Blood covered my chin and more blood dripped from the cut in my lower lip and onto my shirt. My lip was already swelling, but I was happy to find my eyes dry, no sign of a single tear. Matteo appeared behind me, towering over me, his dark eyes scanning my messed-up face. Without his trademark shark-grin and the arrogant amusement, he looked almost tolerable.
“You don’t know when to shut up, do you?” he murmured. His lips turned into a smirk, but it looked somehow wrong. There was something unsettling in his eyes. The look in them reminded me of the one I’d seen when he’d dealt with the Russian captives in the basement.
“Neither do you,” I said then winced at the pain shooting through my lip.
“True,” he said in a strange voice. Before I had time to react, he gripped my hips, turned me around and hoisted me onto the washstand. “That’s why we are perfect for each other.”
Back was the arrogant smile. The bastard stepped between my legs.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, sliding back from the edge of the washstand to bring more distance between us while pushing against his chest.
He didn’t budge, too strong for me. The smile got bigger. He grabbed my chin and tilted my head up. “I want to take a look at your lip.”
“I don’t need your help now. Maybe you should have stopped my father from busting my lip in the first place.” The taste of blood, sweet and coppery, made my stomach turn and reminded me of darker images.
“Yes. I should have,” he said darkly, his thumb lightly touching my wound as he parted my lips. “If Luca hadn’t held me back, I would have plunged my knife into your father’s fucking back, consequences be damned. Maybe I still will.”
He released my lip and pulled a long curved knife from the holster below his jacket before twisting it in his hand with a calculating look on his face. Then his eyes flickered up to me. “Do you want me to kill him?”
God, yes. I shivered at the sound of Matteo’s voice. I knew it was wrong, but after what Father had said today, I wanted to see him begging for mercy and I knew Matteo was capable of bringing anyone to their knees, and it excited me. That was exactly why I’d wanted out of this life. I had the potential for cruelty, and this life was the reason for it. “That would mean war between Chicago and New York,” I said simply.
“Seeing your father bleed to death at my feet would be worth the risk. You are worth it.”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, but this was getting too…serious. I wanted to kiss him for his words, but it was wrong. Matteo was wrong. Everything was. Not too long ago I’d watched Sid getting killed and I knew it might just as well have been Matteo who’d pulled the trigger. I couldn’t let him mess with my mind. He was too good at it.
I shoved his shoulder again. “I need to take care of my lip. If you have nothing better to do than to stand around, get out of my way.”
He still didn’t budge and he was simply too strong to move him. His muscles flexed under his shirt, making me wonder how he would look without it. Wrong. So wrong.
He set his knife down on the counter beside me.
“You shouldn’t leave sharp objects in my reach when I’m pissed.”
“I think I’ll take the risk,” he said, bracing his palms to both sides of my thighs, leaving me no choice but to lean back to bring some distance between us.
“Stop it,” I growled because he smelled too nice and I felt my body wanting to move closer then winced again. I brought my hand up and felt my lower lip. It seemed to have swollen even more and it still hadn’t stopped bleeding.
Matteo pulled my hand away. “You’ll make it worse. It needs stitches. Should I call for a doctor?”
“No,” I said quickly. I didn’t want any more people to find out, and most of
all I didn’t want my bastard of a father to find out he’d managed to split my lip. “I’ll do it myself.”
Matteo raised his eyebrows. He took a step back and did a quick scan of the cupboards before he came up with a medical kit. He threaded a needle and handed it to me. I shifted on the washstand to see myself in the mirror then brought the needle up to my lip. I’d never stitched anyone up, least of all myself. I hated needles. I even had to close my eyes when I got a shot. Matteo was watching me and I didn’t want to look like a wimp to him, so I nudged my lip with the tip of the needle, jumped from pain and pulled back again.
“Fuck. That hurts like hell.” I flushed then glared at Matteo. “Go on. Laugh.”
Matteo snatched the needle out of my hand. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I know,” I muttered. “Can you do it?”
“It’ll be painful. I don’t have anything against the pain.”
“Have you ever stitched yourself up?”
“A few times.”
“Then I can handle you stitching me up. Just do it.”
He handed me Tylenol. “Pop a few of them. They won’t help with the immediate pain but they’ll be good later.”
“Vodka works too.”
“I guess you found out in your months as a fugitive,” he said with a grin that bordered on scary. He hadn’t asked too many questions yet. Not even about other guys besides Sid. Maybe he didn’t want to know, and I wouldn’t tell him anyway. It was bad enough that one innocent had lost his life because of me. I wouldn’t tell him the names of the other guys I’d kissed so he’d kill them too. Death was too harsh a punishment for a kiss, for anything really, but that wasn’t something a man like Matteo would agree on.
“Among other things,” I said because I never knew when to shut my mouth. And what better moment to choose for provoking someone than before they were going to poke you with a sharp needle.
“I bet,” he said, the scary smile getting a bit scarier. Matteo cupped my chin. “Try to hold still.”
I braced myself as he touched the needle to my lip. Despite my taunting, Matteo was careful when he stitched me up. It still hurt like hell every time the needle pierced my skin and my eyes filled with stupid tears. I fought them for as long as possible but eventually a few trailed down my cheeks. Matteo didn’t comment for which I was glad. For him this was probably nothing. When he set the needle down after what felt like forever but had probably been less than five minutes, I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks, embarrassed that I’d shown weakness in front of him like that.
“It’ll swell even more. Tomorrow morning you’ll have a fat lip,” Matteo said.
I checked my reflection. My lip had already swollen considerably since I’d last seen it, or maybe that was my imagination. I pulled down my lower lip to check the stitches. You couldn’t see them from the outside. At least I wouldn’t have an ugly scar. “You can’t possibly want to marry me looking like this.” I pointed at my face. “We should postpone the wedding.”
Matteo shook his head with a small laugh. “No chance in hell. You won’t slip out of my hands again, Gianna. We will marry today. Nothing will stop me.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gianna
After my lip was taken care of, Aria and I were allowed to go to my old room while the men discussed how to proceed with the wedding. Two bodyguards were ordered to keep watch on me. One waited in front of the door, the other below my window, in case I decided to climb out of it. The moment the door of my room closed I leaned against it and let out a shaky sigh.
Aria touched my cheek. “How’s your lip?”
“Okay. Matteo stitched it up for me.”
“I’m so glad he decided to marry you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Not you too, Aria.”
Aria pulled me toward the bed and made me sit down. “Father would have given you to one of his soldiers as punishment, Gianna. And you can be sure he would have chosen the least appealing option. Someone really nasty. He’s really mad at you. Matteo isn’t a bad choice. He must care for you if he went to such great lengths to find you.”
“He’s a proud man. Pride made him pursue me, nothing else.”
“Maybe,” she said uncertainly. She picked up a brush from the nightstand. Everything was still as I’d left it six months ago. I was surprised Father hadn’t burnt all of my things. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. It was almost seven in the evening. It would have been past midnight in Germany. I couldn’t believe how much had happened since I’d woken in Munich this morning.
“Was it worth it?” Aria asked softly as she combed my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d done it. Her fingers felt good on my scalp and I had to resist the urge to burry my face against her stomach and cry.
I met her compassionate gaze, and for some reason her understanding infuriated me. “Was the chance at freedom worth pissing off Father and being called a whore and slut? Yes, absolutely. But was my silly wish for something more worth the life of an innocent guy? Then fuck no. My entire existence isn’t worth that much. Sid paid the ultimate price for my selfishness. There is nothing I can do to redeem myself.” Tears sprang into my eyes.
“Luca told me,” Aria said. “I’m so sorry.”
I brushed the tears off my face. “Maybe I should let Father marry me off to one of his sadist soldiers. It would serve me right.”
“Don’t say that, Gianna. You deserve happiness as much as anyone. You couldn’t have known what would happen. It’s not your fault that they killed Sid.”
“How can you even say that? Of course it’s my fault. I knew who was hunting me. I knew what Matteo and Father’s men were capable off. I knew I was putting anyone whom I let close at risk. That’s why I never dated any guys in all the other places I stayed. I flirted and kissed, but then I moved on. Your words from long ago always echoed in my mind. That being with another guy when you’re engaged to a man like Luca would mean that guy’s death.”
“I wasn’t talking about you. That’s been a long time ago.”
“But Matteo is just like Luca and I knew that. I knew that he’d kill any guy he would find with me, but I still went out with Sid. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself!”
“No. You didn’t think he’d catch you. You wanted to feel at home and start a new life like you deserved after being on the run for so long. You felt safe and wanted to give love a chance. That’s okay.”
“No. No, it isn’t. You don’t get it, Aria. It wasn’t even about love. I didn’t even really have a crush on Sid. I didn’t even like him all that much at the end because he could be a jerk, and that makes it even worse. I risked too much for sloppy kisses and awkward groping, and Sid died because of it.”
“Please don’t blame yourself. Blame Father and his men. Blame Matteo. I don’t care, but don’t blame yourself.”
“Oh, I’m blaming all of them, don’t worry, but that doesn’t change that, without me, Sid would still be playing his crappy guitar and flirting with Munich girls.”
“You can’t change the past, Gianna, but you can make the best of your future.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I missed your optimism.” I rested my head in her lap and closed my eyes. “I missed you so much.”
She stroked my hair. “I missed you too. I’m so happy that you’ll live in New York with me.”
“First I have to marry Matteo. How am I going to be a wife, Aria?”
“He and Luca work a lot. You won’t have to see him very often.”
“But still. I’ll have to sleep with him and share a bed with him and try to be civil to him for God knows how long. It’s not like he’ll give me another chance to run.”
“You’re thinking about running again?” she asked in a small voice.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Matteo can be funny and he’s good-looking, so on a physical level at least it shouldn’t be too bad. I’m sure he’s a goo
d lover considering how many girls he’s had in the past.”
I cringed. “Right. If we return to New York tonight, he’ll probably expect to sleep with me.”
Aria searched my face. “Are you worried he’ll let his anger out on you for sleeping with other guys before him?”
“I never did.”
Aria blinked. “You never did what?”
“I never slept with any guy. I would have if I’d had a bit more time to get to know a guy but that was never the case.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Father treated you horribly. Maybe he would forgive you if you told him the truth.” She moved as if she wanted to head downstairs to tell him herself, but I pulled her back down on the bed.
“Don’t,” I said firmly. “I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t care if they call me a slut. I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing.”
Aria gave me a look that made it clear she thought I’d lost my mind. “You have to tell Matteo at least. You have to.”
“Why? So he can pride himself on being my first? Fuck no. He’s already acting like he’s my savior. It’ll be only worse if he finds out.”
“No, you have to tell him so he can be careful.”
I snorted. “I don’t need him to be careful. I don’t want him to know.”
“Gianna, if your first time is anything like mine you’ll be thanking your lucky stars if Matteo is careful, trust me.”
“I’ll survive.” But Aria’s words were starting to make me nervous.
“That’s ridiculous. If he thinks you’re experienced, he might take you without much preparation. That’ll really hurt.”
I shook my head. “Aria, please. I’ve made my decision. I don’t want Matteo to know. It’s none of his business.”
“What if he finds out anyway? There would have been no way I could have hidden it from Luca.”
“I’m good at hiding pain. Maybe I’ll bite into a pillow.”
Aria laughed. “That sounds like the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”
Someone knocked. I quickly sat up, my stomach in knots. What if Father and Dante had changed their minds and I was to stay in Chicago?