Scar barked out a laugh in the corner, then returned his attention to the knife that he worked to polish. The sight of the massive man polishing a knife in one of the antique chairs from when Matteo's father had owned the estate, in other words velvet and looking fit for King Henry VIII, was almost enough to make me echo his amusement. "You think after you nagged them for details relentlessly, you'll just get out of it now that it's your turn?"
"Nobody asked you for your opinion, Smoosh Baby," I warned him. His eyes narrowed and his hands polished the blade with more force, but he didn't slit my throat with it. I counted that as a win. "Where's the vet?"
"You beat her here."
"Oh lovely," I said, dropping to the floor next to Rebel and curling her into my side. The dog snuggled in automatically, feeling like a part of me in a way I'd never expected I could have, given my circumstances. Ivory studied the contact curiously for a minute, and then her smile turned soft.
She was happy for me, but I knew she would transform back to the nosy thing she was. Ivory was incapable of not poking her face where it didn't belong. That was how she'd ended up back with Matteo after her incredible stupidity of seeking him out after a bank robber cowered in fear, invoking Matteo’s name at the sight of her and letting her go.
Ivory was not intimidating. She should have taken the survival for what it was, not poked the lion. If she had, I wouldn't have a niece though. And I wouldn't change Luna for anything. "Where's the Moon Monster?" I asked, making Ivory laugh.
"Change the subject much?" Calla asked, biting her lip as she stared at me. "You know, you asked me a question once. Now I’ll return the favor. Do your legs reach around him?"
"Surprisingly yes," I admitted, nodding my head. "It was touch and go for a little bit there, but I am nothing if not determined. I made it work."
Scar groaned, hanging his head. “I didn’t hear that. I am not getting involved in the coming shitstorm with Matteo and Enzo.”
Calla snorted as Samara gasped at her side, cradling baby Levi to her chest with one hand over his ear. At three months old, he still clung to his mother like a monkey. Laughter bubbled up her throat. "It's been two days!" Samara had an advantage judging me for it, since she'd held out the longest of any of us. Hell, she'd held out for over a decade before she and Lino pulled their heads out of their asses and got down and dirty.
But Ivory and Calla? Hell no.
"Bitch, you got tangled up in his sheets on the second date!" I yelled, tossing a pillow at Ivory.
"That is true," Calla murmured in agreement.
"You didn't even get a date!" Ivory laughed, eyeing both of us.
"Yes, but we—" I gestured between Calla and I. "We were forced to spend all our time with them. You had to survive a few hours without jumping his bones and you didn't even manage that." The sound of the doorbell rang, and Ivory laughed as Don emerged to answer it, with Luna toddling at his side. "Speaking of, how is the Meatball? Did he enjoy my present?”
“We don’t talk about what Ryker does at the warehouse, Sadie. You know I don’t want to know. Not after what I saw him do the one time I went there,” Calla returned. "But he installed a shower in the garage because he comes home drenched in blood more often than not," Calla said, her voice entirely deadpan.
"Sounds practical," I said, shrugging my shoulders. She might not have had much choice in the beginning, but she knew very well what her husband did for a living. I'd comforted her when she struggled with the fact that she'd stepped around severed heads, because the grief of that colliding with the woman she'd once been had come in a moment when Ryker wasn't home.
She’d needed someone, and when my girls needed me? I was there.
"I’m Dr. Imler, but please call me Ashleigh. This must be Rebel," a woman said as she stepped into the ornate living room. Impressed that she didn't even flinch or glance around at the group of women clustered in the living room to watch a dog be examined, I scooted away to give her just a hint of space. "That's alright. She's comforted by you. I don't want to alarm her any more than I have to. We'll save the blood work for the end."
"Sounds good."
"She's definitely malnourished, so the first step will be making sure she eats small meals frequently throughout the day. Give her lots of water." Ashleigh ran her fingers over Rebel's fur, massaging her hands into her skin and feeling for anything unusual. "I don't feel any wounds or swelling, so I don't think she was hurt. I'm going to give you a list of foods before I leave. Pitbulls are normally known for muscle mass, so a high protein diet will be best for her at this point. Are you planning to keep her?" She pulled a scanner from her bag on the floor, running it in an s-shaped pattern between Rebel’s shoulder blades. Numbers appeared on the small screen on the device.
“Yes, I’m planning to keep her. What’s that?” I asked, my fingers dancing against my thigh.
“Her microchip registration number. When I get back to the office, I’ll be able to find her owner.” She smiled sadly. “There are a hundred possible reasons why she’s not with her owner anymore, so I wouldn’t worry too much just yet.”
I nodded, watching as she continued to examine Rebel: stretching her legs, checking her joints, and listening to her heart.
It was only after she took blood samples and determined my girl was a perfectly healthy young pitbull that the cramp in my stomach eased. She'd be just fine once we got her weight back to normal, we knew what happened with her previous owner, and her blood work came back clear.
Now to just keep her from loving Enzo too much.
14
Enzo
Liam's estate stood as regally as the Bellandi estate. But where the Bellandi home was a two-story that took up a shit ton of property, O'Connell's home was built upward. Looking like a manor that belonged in the sprawling Irish countryside rather than the suburbs of Chicago, the security similarities to Matteo's home couldn't be missed.
Walled in property and huge gates sat behind us as Matteo pulled the Aston up the driveway. Our SUVs sat in front of us, waiting for Matteo's arrival. Simon hopped out the back of one first, moving to stand beside Matteo as soon as he flung his door open. I followed, feeling the comforting weight of my guns tucked into the holsters at my waist. I never tried to hide my own weapons, since as a security specialist my job required me to be armed at all times.
Liam wasn't naïve enough to think we'd come to his territory for a meet and not bring our weapons. Given Matteo's powerful alliance with the man, I didn't see it being a problem.
Armed guards stepped outside, but their weapons remained strapped across their backs. Not a threat, more a reminder we weren't the only ones with weapons. Lino and Georgio climbed out of the SUV that Simon had vacated, stern looks on their face as they prepared for the shit show we were about to walk into.
There would never be any certainty when walking into a man's house to tell him his successor had been trafficking women behind his back. Building up a business that Liam wouldn't endorse, with little care for how it affected the old man.
It didn't matter, since Tiernan’d had plans to kill Liam as soon as Liam’s daughter, Aoife, was his wife. We had evidence of that, too, courtesy of Ryker getting text messages off a burner phone from his latest victim.
The devil himself stepped out of the front SUV, his face etched in hard lines. He’d worn a suit for the meeting, but that couldn’t contain the reality of what Ryker was. Matteo’s Executioner, who lived for blood and pain. He favored his hatchet when the time came to put someone out of his misery. Yavin came out the other side, along with a few more of our guys climbing out of the backseat. Bryan's eyes met mine, and even though I liked the guy plenty, it made my trigger finger twitch every time I looked at him now. The knowledge that he almost spent all his time with Sadie. That he'd almost been her guard, and if it hadn't been for her being difficult, he could have been the one who slipped between her thighs in that boxing ring, had she allowed it.
Brotherhood had always come first for me
. Women never came close to competing with that.
But for Sadie, I might have had to kill the fucker.
That didn't sit right with me. Threatened everything I thought I knew about myself, another symptom of the change Sadie inspired in me from the moment I first saw her.
I led the way, nodding my head for Bryan to join me at the front of the pack as we made our way up the steps and greeted Liam's men. "He's waiting in his office," one of them said, his face remaining expressionless as he turned on his heel with military precision and made to guide us into the elegant home.
The interior of the Bellandi estate had been professionally decorated, and Ivory had taken over a year to put her stamp on the space before erasing that cold feeling that dominated the home Matteo grew up in. Liam's estate lacked that chill. Traces of a woman's personal touch were littered throughout, with little decorations and photos everywhere the moment we stepped inside. I briefly wondered if it had been his wife's doing before she died, or if Aoife had put her stamp on the home she'd be forced to leave soon if we didn't intervene on her behalf.
Liam sat behind his desk, tapping his pen against it as he studied whatever paper was in front of him. His man knocked on the door frame, announcing our arrival as I moved into the office. I studied all the exits, the windows at his back and the French doors leading to the backyard. Positioning myself between Liam and those doors with my back to the rear wall, I widened my stance to be comfortable, and watched. Liam stood once he caught sight of Matteo, moving around the desk to greet him with a friendly smile. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled with the force of it, the grey hair at his temples marking how much he'd aged since the last time I attended a meeting between the two men. It hadn't even been a year, and yet the physical signs of the growing split in his syndicate were tangible in the lines of his face.
"Liam," Matteo greeted, smiling tightly. It was as close to a friendly smile as he managed when he wasn't solely with the closest members of his inner circle.
"Matteo. What was so urgent, my boy?" he asked, stepping back around his desk. After gesturing for Matteo and Lino to take their seats, he steepled his hands and watched while Ryker handed Matteo the file he held in his grip. Matteo didn't waste any precious time stalling with the news that he knew would likely rock Liam's world. He dropped the folder on top of Liam's desk, and the Irish man sighed before leaning forward and rapping his knuckles against it twice. "I'm not going to like what's in here, am I?"
"No," Matteo returned, giving a subtle shake of his head. His eyes instantly went to Liam's men throughout the room. I echoed his sentiment, knowing full well just how deceptive people you thought were loyal could be.
Emilio had been one of the men to help me in my transition. He'd seen the potential in me if he could navigate me away from such a strict sense of right and wrong. He’d shown me that there was a place where I could exist as I was and not deal with the pressures of returning to a society that didn’t accept me, as if war hadn't changed me.
With the Bellandis, seeing a threat in every corner was a gift that often kept me alive, but nobody had seen the threat Emilio himself was until he'd tried to give Samara to her abusive ex-husband and worked with Lino's father to sell her off.
"Leave us," Liam announced, nodding at his men when they hesitated. I suspected Matteo's relationship with the old man was more involved than he liked to let on, given the absolute trust that was required of a man willing to dismiss his safety net when dealing with a roomful of armed, dangerous men.
Even Yavin was a formidable opponent. He was often forgotten, being the friend that Lino brought into the fold when they'd been mere children. But in order to become a made man, he’d had to survive Lino and Matteo's fathers. The men who thought only men of Italian heritage had a place in the inner circle. It took an intense inner strength to accomplish such a thing. His fighting ability and knowledge of weapons had been rough around the edges when I started working for Matteo.
I'd remedied that years ago.
Silent. Unexpected.
Deadly.
Once his men cleared out of the room and closed the door behind them, Liam opened the envelope and pulled the photos free. He winced, no doubt horrified with the sight of the man he'd entrusted his only daughter to. Exploding in high-quality prints, photos of Tiernan meeting with men loyal to him. Conversations of his dealings with some of the men Ryker captured and tortured.
All of it detailed the uprising within his organization.
I suspected the photo we'd lifted off our latest kill's phone was the final straw when he flipped through it. We'd been too late to help her, and it was the catalyst for Matteo requesting the meeting as soon as he did. The young girl who became one of Tiernan's first victims. Liam's future son-in-law. The rapist. What a moment of pride it must have been to know what kind of scum he protected.
"Christ," he hissed, tossing the photos onto the desk. He ran a hand over his face, looking more and more aged with every second that passed. "What am I supposed to do with this? That ungrateful little shit."
Swiping the photos to the floor, he made no move to pick them up. Nobody moved while he studied Matteo. "You know I can't let what he's doing stand. I've been very vocal that there's to be no trafficking in my city, Liam," Matteo said, raising an eyebrow at his ally casually. I adjusted my stance, studying the interaction between them. Another man might have seen it as a threat, because organizations such as Bellandi and O'Connell handled their issues internally.
In any other circumstances, Liam might have expected Matteo to let him deal with Tiernan on his own. But Liam only nodded, tapping his fingers on the desk. "I always knew there was something wrong with him. His father was a good man, the best enforcer I could have asked for. I'd hoped to have a closer relationship with his son, but Tiernan..." he trailed off with a sigh of frustration. "Killing him will be difficult for me, I admit. He's all that remains of Brogan."
"You let us take care of that then," Matteo said. "I assure you, Ryker has no qualms about making sure he suffers for what he tried to do to Calla."
"What did he do to your Executioner?" Liam asked.
Ryker piped up from the corner, his deep voice resonating through the room with his fury. "He staged a car accident and tried to have my wife taken from me so he could convince me to leave Bellandi and work for him. My kids were with her."
"He never had respect for the fact that wives and children should be off-limits in our business dealings," Liam sighed. "I'm sorry for the damage he may have caused your children. I am more than willing to allow you to put him down like the rabid dog he is."
Ryker nodded his assent to Liam, but something churned behind Matteo's gaze as he studied Liam. An uncertainty while he waited for something he knew was coming, and what would be a sticking point. My body tensed, feeling my own anxiety ratchet up as Liam stood from behind the desk.
It was all too easy.
"I don't have any sons," Liam said finally, as he made his way to the door. He swung it open, whispering something to one of his men who lurked just outside. The man nodded, turning on his heel and retreating further into the house. "My daughter requires a husband. Someone to protect her from any backlash that may come when I dissolve the marriage agreement with Tiernan. She will not pay the price of us doing what is right."
"Liam—" Matteo started.
"I am an old-fashioned man, Matteo. Shall we make this bond between us official?"
"I don't dictate who my men can or cannot marry. I don't believe in contractual marriages. You know this." Matteo stood, scrubbing a hand over his face. I glanced around at the men in the room as silence descended, taking a moment to consider who was available if it came to that. The men unmarried and high-ranking enough and to be an appropriate match were few and far between.
The knock on the door sounded jarring in the cavernous office, and Matteo sighed as he dropped his head to look at the floor.
"Perhaps one of your men will be willing to make a strategic matc
h regardless of your feelings on such a matter. My Aoife is a beautiful girl, much like her mother was. I assure you there was no bitterness when my father contracted my marriage for me." Liam grinned knowingly as he opened the door. It seemed wrong for a father to advertise his daughter in such a way, but I also knew it was just how the old-timers did things. Though Matteo didn't require it, many of his father's generation arranged marriages for their children as they came of age.
As the door swung open, all eyes turned to watch the young woman stride into the room, followed by a few of Liam's men. She only hesitated for a moment at the eyes that stared back at her, before she raised her chin defiantly and made her way to her father's desk. Her strawberry blond hair contrasted with her plum leather jacket; she was covered head to toe in black beneath it, from her black tank top to her skinny jeans to the pumps on her feet. As Liam approached her, I watched her cerulean blue eyes dart over to the wall where several of us stood. Her eyes met Yavin's, stalling and darting back to his unique grey eyes that studied her intently.
Her cheeks flushed, staining her fair skin damn near the color of her hair as she shook her head and turned her attention back to her father as he strode around to the other side of his desk once more. "You wanted to see me, Daddy?" she asked, a deep throaty voice that sounded like she belonged on the other side of a sex hotline.
"Your marriage to Tiernan will no longer be happening," Liam announced, and her shoulders sagged as a bright smile lit her face.
"Thank you," she said with a hitch in her breath. "Thank you for not making me go through with that sham of a marriage."
"You will marry one of Matteo's men instead," Liam announced. Aoife's cerulean eyes hardened as she glared up at her father momentarily. Her lungs heaved, and she gritted her teeth.
"No!" She stomped her foot, placing her hands on the edge of his desk and leaning into his space. "You promised me I could finish school. You swore to me I could at least have that before you sold me off like cattle because of your friendship with a dead man. I will not—"
Shielded Wrongs: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 4) Page 11