Brando

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Brando. Arm up and go to the White Hills, they have Vinnie and my daughter. Sì, I have a daughter. Take as many soldiers as you can along with Dominic, that’s if he’s up to it. Get over there ASAP before they crucify my daughter.”

  Alessandro snapped, “Onto it,” then hung up.

  Brando leaned against the seat, praying his brothers got there in time.

  34

  Irene stroked Vinnie’s face. His head was lying on her lap, her husband unconscious. He’d caused trouble for the soldiers, so one of the bastards had knocked him out. That man was dead now, Irene personally killing him.

  She frowned, wishing things could’ve been different. All those months, no, years she’d dreamt of being with Vinnie and nothing had turned out the way she’d planned or imagined it. He was supposed to look at her with love, not hate. He was also supposed to get hard over her, not force her to inject him, which she knew had hurt him. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but she wasn’t going to be denied, not after everything she’d been through. He was her reward, the one thing that had kept her going through the hard months, making her want to live. She brushed his hair back again, praying he would come to his senses. He needed to realize she was the one for him, because he was for her. She’d had so many men over the years, and even in Vinnie’s unwillingness, none of them had come close to him, the sheer joy she’d felt while making love to him beyond orgasmic.

  Her eyes shifted to his cock, the injection she’d given him keeping it rock hard. She gave it a few strokes, aching to ride him again, which she would, something that went without saying. Her hand moved up his body, running her fingers between the grooves on his stomach, outlining his six-pack. From the driver’s seat, Miko started talking again. The soldier was concerned about the people left behind, all of which the Santini had threatened to kill. Irene ignored him. She’d already heard about Fiore blubbering over the phone, begging for the return of Vinnie and Brando’s daughter. The fool just failed to realize Irene didn’t care. The Santini could slit everyone’s throat in the house and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid. All the people of importance were on their way to the safe houses, her uncle among them. She smiled, happy that Javier had been set free from the American prison. He would make their family powerful once more. His connections were extensive, the Black Russian amongst his allies, someone who took what he wanted—like her.

  Her hand moved to Vinnie’s arm, tracing the red hot tattoos. He shifted a fraction, pulling her attention back to his face. His eyelids fluttered, looking like he was trying to wake up. She watched as they slowly opened, his soft blue eyes capturing her. Although he’d angered her, she knew deep down she could never stay mad at him for long, the man a living dream.

  He stared up at her, looking like he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, his expression confused. He mumbled something, only the name Gemma recognizable, the ball-gag gone.

  Irene grabbed his face. “Don’t mention that woman’s name ever again.”

  His eyes widened, confusion turning to awareness, Vinnie now fully awake. He went to get up. Irene placed a hand on his chest, holding him down, his tied arms and legs not allowing him to retaliate. He started swearing and cursing her, saying the nastiest things. Irene placed a hand over his mouth and nose as the soldier next to her clamped down on Vinnie’s legs. Panic filled Vinnie’s eyes. He started thrashing his head from side to side, trying to dislodge her hand, but she held on tight, watching as he grew weaker from lack of oxygen. She removed her hand before he passed out. He sucked in air, his chest moving up and down rapidly.

  She caressed his face with the back of her hand. “Be careful what you say to me, Vincenzo, because I wear the pants in this famiglia.” She grabbed his cock. “Not you.”

  He gasped, his beautiful eyes going round.

  She leaned down and thrust her tongue inside his mouth, yelping as he bit it. She pulled back and slapped his face. “You bastardo!”

  He grunted, then resumed swearing at her, not caring that she’d almost suffocated him. She covered his mouth and nose again, but unlike the first time, Vinnie didn’t try to dislodge her hand. Instead, he just glared at her, looking like he was daring her to kill him. As his eyes slowly closed, she lifted her hand again, allowing him air.

  “You are the most frustrating man I’ve ever met!” she said. “Why can’t you just accept things?”

  “Because I hate you!”

  “Which will change.”

  “No! I will always hate you.”

  “Regardless, you belong to me now, so you’ll learn to live with it.”

  “I’m not a thing to keep.”

  She smiled. “Maybe not, but I’m still going to keep you.” The car came to a stop, pulling her attention away from Vinnie. “Are we at our destination?” she asked Miko.

  Miko yanked on the brake. “Sì, signora.”

  “Bene.” She turned to the soldier holding Vinnie’s legs. “Out. I want to get this over and done with so I can enjoy the remainder of my wedding night.”

  The soldier opened the door, sliding out from under Vinnie’s legs. Irene also slid out, following the soldier into the cool night air. She closed the door, not wanting Vinnie to see his niece’s crucifixion, her amore already hating her enough without needing more reasons.

  She watched as another soldier removed Brando’s daughter from a second car. The little girl started screaming and trying to get away from the soldier. Irene’s eyes moved to the three crosses on the hill, the moon casting an eerie glow over them. The Donatelli had strung her up on the middle cross, while her younger sisters had been hung from the other two. But unlike Irene, their throats had been slit. She moved her gaze back to the little girl, wanting Brando to suffer as she had, just through his daughter.

  She pointed at the middle cross. “Tie the girl to that one. Once you’ve finished, I’ll shoot her like her father shot mine.”

  The soldier nodded and yanked the girl towards the cross. Irene watched them ascend the hill, refusing to allow the memory of her own crucifixion to get to her. Instead, she wanted it to make her stronger. She wasn’t a blubbering fool like Fiore; she was a Landi—a fighter who would survive whatever was thrown at her.

  Turning, she headed for Miko, who was still behind the wheel, keeping the engine running.

  “Give me your gun,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He passed it through the window. She went to follow the soldier and the girl, stopping as a thud came from the other side of the car. She spun around, noticing the back door was open. She ran around the car, finding Vinnie crawling out of it, his ankles and wrists still tied together. He stopped and looked up at her, his expression unrepentant.

  She squatted down in front of him, dangling the gun between her legs. “You don’t seem to realize you can’t get away from me, Vincenzo.”

  He glared at her.

  She moved the gun to his chest, running it down his naked body. “You really should just give up,” she nudged his hard cock with the barrel, “and accept your fate.”

  “No!”

  “I guess I have to break you, then.” She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, then shoved him back. She rose up over him, feeling a surge of power rush through her. The intoxicating sight of Vinnie bound and naked, completely at her mercy, was making her pussy ache. She pushed him onto his back with a foot, intent on taking him right there and then.

  A shot rang out, making her spin around. Irene’s gaze snapped to the soldier on the hill. The man let go of Brando’s daughter and collapsed. The girl took off down the other side of the hill. Irene’s eyes widened as Alessandro Santini appeared suddenly, yanking the girl behind a bush. More men emerged from behind it, Dominic among them, picking off her soldiers with ease. Her gaze snapped to Vinnie, realizing she didn’t have enough time to get him back into the car. She swallowed down a furious scream and went for the front passenger seat, yelling at Miko, “Go, go, go!” as she climbed into it.

  Miko planted his foot, causing the
car to lurch forward. Shots came their way, one taking out the back window. Irene screamed and ducked, covering her head. Miko continued on, speeding away from the gunfire ... and Vinnie.

  After a minute, Irene removed her hands from her head and glanced through the shattered window. She stared into the night, knowing she would get Vinnie back—their destinies forever united.

  35

  Ivy drove through a large iron-gate; its pattern displaying two lions facing each other. She stopped the car in front of the Orsini’s two-story house. It was beige and had a flat roof, the exterior much more austere than the Santini home. There were no fancy edifices, just smooth, clean surfaces broken up by windows and Juliet balconies, the balustrades simple rather than decorative.

  Ivy got out of the driver’s side as an Orsini soldier opened Brando’s door.

  “Welcome, signore,” the man said, bowing his head respectfully.

  Brando nodded at him. “We have a prisoner inside the car. Secure her until further notice.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he headed for the front door with Ivy. They’d gotten a phone call, telling them that his daughter and Vinnie were safe, and that they were being taken to the Orsini compound, where most of the family was.

  An Orsini soldier opened the front door for them, greeting Brando in the same manner as the previous man. Ivy entered after Brando, the interior just as austere as the outside, the style almost spartan in its simplicity.

  The small entrance led onto a large lounge, which was crowded with people Ivy didn’t know. They were mostly dressed in black, even the women, giving her the impression she’d crashed a wake.

  A very attractive man in a black suit turned to look at them as they neared the throng of people. He was in his late thirties, had light-brown hair, a beard, stunning green eyes, and was packed with muscle, the man exuding power. His face lit up. “Brando!” He headed for them, holding his arms out wide. He pulled Brando into a hug, giving him a hearty clap on the back. He pulled back a moment later, the smile not leaving his face. “You’re a slippery demon. It’s impossible for anyone to kill you,” he said, moving his hands to Brando’s arms.

  Brando smiled. “As always, it’s good to see you, Georgio, and grazie mille for helping my famiglia—yet again.”

  “Don’t mention it; I would lay down my life for you after what you did for my father.” The man’s eyes moved to Ivy. He gave her a respectful nod. “Please excuse my rudeness for not introducing myself to you, dear lady. I was overexcited to see my good friend Brando safe and sound. My name is Georgio Orsini. I’m the Capo of my famiglia and a close friend of the Santini. Are you one of the Vipers I’ve heard so much about?”

  “Yes.”

  Brando placed a hand on Ivy’s back. “This is Ivy, my woman.”

  Georgio’s eyebrows shot up. “You have a woman?”

  “Why does that seem strange?” Ivy asked.

  “He never has a woman, he just...” Georgio grimaced. “My apologies.”

  “He just what?”

  Brando smiled. “He was about to say fucks them.”

  Ivy scowled at Brando. “Well, at least he’s polite enough not to actually say it.”

  Brando smiled wider, although he appeared weary. “You know what I’m like.”

  Georgio patted Brando’s arm. “Regardless of his words, he’s one of the best men I know. He risked his life to get my father out of a high security prison. My father would’ve died in there for a crime he didn’t commit if it weren’t for Brando.”

  Young children shot past Georgio, grabbing his attention. He barked at them not to run in the house, then refocused on Brando and Ivy.

  “My apologies for all the people here, it’s a wake for my father-in-law. When I got Ricardo’s call, my famiglia and I had just returned from the funeral.”

  “Oh,” Brando said. “I’m sorry, if you need us to leave—”

  “I wouldn’t hear of it, casa mia è casa tua,” he said, saying his home was Brando’s. “Anyway, your famiglia has been anxiously waiting for you in the back house, so let’s put them out of their misery.”

  He guided Ivy and Brando past the people and out the back door, a few of them saying hello to Brando. They headed across a cobbled courtyard to an identical-looking house. A soldier was stationed outside it. Like his coworkers, he bowed at them. Ivy wanted to tell Brando that the Santini could learn some manners from the Orsini men, but kept her mouth shut, although she was definitely going to mention it later.

  “I will take my leave now,” Georgio said. “I need to get back to my famiglia.”

  Brando nodded. “Again, grazie mille.”

  “Prego.” Georgio walked off.

  “He’s lovely,” Ivy said.

  Brando’s eyes moved to her. “I wouldn’t describe Capo Georgio as lovely. He may be a gentleman, but he’s as vicious as the rest of us, and has an even bigger bark than Ricardo. When he gets going, you can hear him halfway across the island, he’s that loud.” Brando smiled, genuine affection in his eyes. “Instead, I would describe him as noble, loyal, and one of the best men I know. He would cut off an arm if my famiglia asked. He’s more than a friend or subject; he’s a brother—maybe not in blood, but in soul. The Orsini are another part of the Santini famiglia in my eyes. You’ll get to know them more at our wedding.”

  “Our wedding?”

  “It’s going to happen whether you like it or not.”

  “God, you’re impossible.”

  “You mean, impossibly gorgeous.”

  Smirking, he turned to the soldier, who opened the door. They entered the house, the interior a replica of the first one, the bland furnishings functional, nothing more. Brando headed for the lounge, where a babble of voices was coming from. Ivy followed him, spotting his family and servants spread throughout the room.

  Concetta’s head whipped around as Brando called out to her. “Brando!” She jumped up and flung herself at him, crying out with so much joy it made Ivy smile.

  Brando grunted, sounding like she’d hurt him.

  Concetta pulled back and cupped Brando’s face, her happiness gone in an instant. “How bad did they hurt you?”

  “Not that much.”

  “It doesn’t look like it; your face is all bruised and scratched.”

  “It’s superficial.”

  She looked down at his injured hand. “That doesn’t look superficial; your bandages are soaked with blood. What happened?”

  “Nothing Cesare can’t fix.”

  “Stop skirting my questions and answer me: what happened to your hand?”

  “I cut it.”

  “There’s too much blood. As soon as Cesare returns with the attack party, I want you to have a full examination. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Sure.” He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. “Now, stop worrying.”

  She hugged him back. “I can never stop worrying about you, figlio.”

  The sound of voices outside pulled Ivy’s attention away from them. The front door opened. Alessandro and Dominic entered with their arms around Vinnie, who had a blanket covering his lower half and dirt smearing his naked torso. His feet were dragging against the floor, while his ankles and wrists were ringed with blood, Vinnie looking in considerably worse condition than Brando.

  Brando ran for Vinnie. He pulled his brother’s face to his shoulder and kissed his head, murmuring, “I’m sorry for your loss, brother.”

  Vinnie remained silent, not saying a word.

  Brando pulled back and lifted Vinnie’s face. “Vinnie?” His eyes moved to Dominic. “Why isn’t he responding?”

  “I don’t know,” Dominic said, looking distressed. “He hasn’t spoken a word since I found him. Maybe he’s still in shock, though Cesare needs to check his legs out. He doesn’t appear to be able to stand on them.” He leaned forward, whispering something else into Brando’s ear.

  Brando grimaced. “Irene Landi injected something into it.”

  Do
minic’s eyes widened. “She what?!”

  “I’ll talk to you about it later,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his mother.

  Concetta pushed him aside. “Figlio,” she said, reaching for Vinnie. “What did they do to you?!”

  Vinnie’s head snapped up. “Get away from me!”

  Concetta froze. “Vinnie?”

  “I hate you, I fucking hate you!” he said, jerking about in Alessandro’s and Dominic’s arms, trying to move away from her.

  Concetta stared at him in shock.

  “What mother sends one son to seduce another’s amore?”

  Realization crossed her face, guilt quickly following. “I did that for you. Gemma was a liar and a cheat.”

  “And now she’s dead, like I wish you were!”

  Her hand shot to her mouth. “You can’t mean that.”

  “I do, and I don’t ever want to see you again. Get me out of here!” he snapped at Dominic and Alessandro.

  His brothers helped him past her, Concetta begging Vinnie for forgiveness. They headed for the staircase, Concetta ignoring Dominic’s plea to leave Vinnie alone.

  “Are they upset because of my mama?” a small voice asked.

  Ivy’s eyes shot to the doorway as a little girl stepped inside with a soldier. The child was a replica of Brando, her golden eyes, black hair, and dark-olive complexion sealing who she was: his daughter.

  Brando squatted down in front of her. “Sì, they’re very sad over what happened to your mamma.”

  “I want her back, but I want my tata back more. I love him the most in the world.”

  “I’ll get him back for you.”

  “Now?”

  “No, I have to find him first.”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “Will the bad people hurt him like they hurt my mama?”

  “I don’t think so. Your Uncle Luka said the lady who took your father liked him very much.”

  “But, I love him. Love is more important than like, so he should be with me.”

  “I agree, which is why I won’t stop looking for him.”