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Unbroken: A Second Chance Romance

Page 23

by Aria Ford


  My lip curled into a snarl at Sylvi’s assessment, and I uncovered my eyes to loll my head to the side. Looking for a new hostess always gave him an excited air about him, and this time was no different. It was inconceivable to me how someone could act like a kid in a candy store when it came to hurting women.

  Then again, he’s right. They signed up for this.

  “You’re a fucking disgrace, Sylvi.” Sylvi’s face instantly broke into a grin, and I gnashed my teeth as I pushed myself up. Resigning myself to the fact that he was right, I grabbed my discarded shirt from the back of my lounge. I really didn’t care about the girls and who did what to them; I just wasn’t going to be a part of it. They knew the odds of tricking someone violent, and the men that frequented the lesser quality places were just that. Violent, drunk, loud.

  But knowing that didn’t spark any humanity in my chest.

  “Awesome. I’ve been worried about you, Brother. You spend too much time with that girl.” Scowling at Sylvi, I pulled my shirt over my head to find his grin gone and expression serious. “I hope for your sake she doesn’t develop Stockholm Syndrome or something. You should hand her over to Doctor Bethel for a while. If she thinks you love her, need her, and she lets you fuck her while she’s not in her right state of mind…”

  Letting the insinuation hang in the air, Sylvi watched me with intent brown eyes as a harsh shiver of disgust slid down my spine. For a moment I was silent, my mind running over every interaction Aya and I had had. At first, she was scared. Scared enough to piss in my car.

  She still flinches and whimpers whenever I grab her. She wouldn’t talk to anyone else; God only knew how fucking hard Sarah had tried. She didn’t leave her room unless I told her to.

  None of that means she’s delusional.

  Shaking my head hard, I pushed past Sylvi and into the house on stiff legs.

  “I didn’t ask for your input, Sylvi, and I don’t fucking want it. I’m not going to fuck her. Since you’re only thinking with your dick right now, I’ll drive. As much as I want to tell the coroner to shove your cock up your ass, I’d rather not deal with Georgio or whatever piss brain he sends to replace you.” Snatching my keys from the door hook, I clenched the jagged metal in my fist.

  Pulling out of the driveway, I rolled down the windows before grabbing my pack of cigarettes. Driving took a back burner, my thoughts instead going to Aya. Every time I wrapped my fingers around her slender neck or grabbed her arm, she always reacted the same way- fearfully. The attack was quick, harsh, and sometimes overwhelmed her, but it always seeped away in mere seconds.

  She was so obedient, and a tickle in the back of my head told me it wasn’t because I could kill her so easily. Anymore, at least.

  “-ano- Luciano. Man-” Glancing over, I ignored Sylvi’s dirty look to take a deep drag of my cigarette. “I asked you if the girl knows about the money.”

  “I didn’t tell her.” Smoke slithered out of my mouth and nose as I spoke, and I adjusted my grip on the wheel. Money- what the fuck would Aya need $10 million for? Such an amount was fucking absurd for one girl with no family, no friends, and no plans for the future.

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t know about it. Tyler said it’s being held en trust by the partner at the law firm. Take her this week.” My blood simmered at the command, but I beat back the itching of my fists to inhale more toxins. “It’s not a lot of money, but è meglio di niente. Especially if she decides she doesn’t want to be an ‘independent woman that don’t need no man’.”

  Snickering at his own stupidity, Sylvi reached to turn on the radio, and I hung my elbow out the window. My brain churned, my heart tightening in my chest and my legs stiffening.

  What if Aya decided to go? Sucking on the butt of my cigarette, my jaw ticked at the thought. Over my dead fucking body.

  The brothel I drove to was part of Sylvi’s extensive collection of premier hotels. Stretching 19 stories high, it catered primarily to businessmen during their travels. Three restaurants provided room service, there was a full time staff, and every single piece of decor was business casual.

  I fucking hated this particular hotel from the moment Sylvi’s architect came to him with the plans. There was too much tight, and not enough slack. People used the indoor pool so little it’d been taken out completely and replaced with hot tubs.

  Stalking through the wide, motion activated, glass doors, I didn’t bother to hide my scowl. The girl that was tasked with greeting each and every guest happily and excitedly stared at me with her mouth open. Her green vest accentuated her bust, but normal employees weren’t part of the giant machine Sylvi operated. Giant brown eyes took me in, her face growing paler by the second.

  “Luciano!” Before me the girl jumped, her eyelids brimming with tears from ignoring the need to blink for so long. Turning my gaze to the woman that spoke, I pursed my lips together as she sauntered from the front desk. Her long, spindly fingers wrapped around the younger woman, giving her a reassuring pat.

  Fake gray eyes flickered over my face before Arin released her employee, freeing her to scurry away in black pants that were much too form fitting.

  “I was hoping you would be by. Where’s Sylvi-”

  “I’m right here, my dear Arin. I was having too much fun watching Luciano scare that woman just by standing there.” Gracefully stepping out of the shadows, Sylvi chuckled lowly as a smile slipped onto Arin’s aged face. She was in her early 40s and had once been a working girl herself. By the time he’d taken over, she was ready to retire. Sylvi wasn’t oblivious to her talents outside of the bedroom, so he put her to work seven years ago. Now she had a husband, three children, and a house with a white picket fence.

  Not to mention all of it was legitimate.

  “You know that’s bad for morale, boy. Sophia is a very soft soul- too soft to be toyed with like that. Now, how about we converse in your suite?” Glancing around the lobby as Sylvi nodded, my eyes narrowed on the eyes that scanned me from head to toe. Differentiating those who were in the Italian-made machine from those who weren’t was easy.

  This particular hotel was a front for metric-fuck-tonnes of drugs, and despite their nice suits and well manners drug runners were still slimy.

  The elevator ride was quiet; Arin was a woman of few words when others could be around to hear. Leaning against the platinum plated walls, I narrowed my gaze on Sylvi’s as he tapped his fingers absently against his suit pants. His earlier excitement about whore shopping was gone, replaced instead with a thoughtfulness that never boded well for anyone.

  “I was surprised to learn Georgio left so quickly, Sylvi. He spent nearly a month and a half here when Luccia took over.” Entering the master suite on the 19th floor, Arin spoke with a flippant curiosity only she could get away with. Georgio had shipped us to America the day we turned 18, and ever since then the older woman has been there. She was smart; the past 15 years hadn’t dulled her at all. Her children were lucky to have a mom that could change her own life so drastically.

  Mine certainly couldn’t, and the thought left a bitter taste on my tongue as I followed Sylvi into the open living room.

  “That was seven years ago, Arin. Times have changed. Not to mention I worked hard to get this far, and Georgio recognizes that.” Flat, Sylvi dropped onto a dark brown, suede sectional couch to cross his legs and throw his arm over the back. “Either that, or he thinks he knows me better because we bonded in a way that he and Luccia never could.”

  “Ah, yes- the real reason you’re here. I hope you have an idea of what you want so I don’t spend all day going through girls like last time. From what I heard you weren’t even too fond of Lilli.” Settling onto the other end of the couch, beyond the curve, I sunk in my seat and spread my legs. Arin shook her head, but she didn’t need an answer; Sylvi didn’t give her one. There was nothing to say, after all.

  Sylvi knew Georgio would be visiting at some point, so he picked the girls he didn’t like for his mentor.

  “Eve
n so! I promise not to keep you from your little children tonight, Arin. Now, let’s get on with it. I’ve got an itch I need scratched.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AYA

  My thumping down the stairs was quiet compared to Luciano’s, and a yawn pulled my jaw apart. A few steps, down the giant brute of a man was tense; there wasn’t a time I could remember when he wasn’t. Reaching to touch his hard shoulder, I sucked in air through my teeth as rigid, defined muscle shifted under my fingertips. Glancing back, his eyes narrowed, his lip twitched in the beginnings of a grimace before he shrugged off my hand.

  Biting down on my bottom lip, I blinked away the heaviness that threatened to sink my eyelids. Luciano had been cold to me- much colder than I had experienced so far. Holding my hand to my chest, I chewed on my lip as my heart ached.

  “Is-” Whirling around, Luciano cut me off with a glare, and my eyes widened at the sneer painted across his face. Tight, my throat struggled to take in air as anticipation thickened my blood.

  “Don’t touch me.” Blood drained from my face, and my head bopped in a nod before he released a heavy, irritated sigh. “Aya…”

  Inching closer to him, my legs wobbled slightly and goosebumps rose on my skin as the air shifted between us. Gently Luciano took hold of my bicep, pushing me against the wall even though his expression didn’t change. Pounding hard against its walls, my heart sent sharp pains through my chest. Trapping me with two strong, immovable arms, he pressed his palms on either side of my head hard enough to make the wood creak slightly.

  “Sylvi bought whores…” Luciano’s face twisted in disgust as he hissed out those three little words, and my eyes nearly boggled out of my skull. Cupping my cheek, his hand was warm and dry and comforting against my skin. “I’ll kill them if they make problems for you. Sei mio. Nessun cagna può competere con te.”

  Heat flushed my cheeks, the pain in my chest lessening as Luciano’s foreign tongue caressed my ears. Leaning forward, I closed my eyes to savor the feeling of his forehead against mine. His breath flowed down my nose, minty and moist, and my shoulders sagged before he squeezed my face.

  “Tell me more about the safe.” Taking the last few steps to the first floor, my body thrummed with a giddiness I’d never felt before. My mind could barely wrap around the fact that Luciano offered to kill for me. His voice was gruff as it swept my attentions, and I pursed my lips together. Beating down this new feeling, I rubbed my palms together as the chill blowing from air conditioners hit me.

  “W- well… Trevor only talked about it a few times… He said that no one could find it unless he told them. That it was buried in a place no one would think to look. And the numbers… 697-… B- but once he was really drunk and he said that anyone that tried to find it ‘swam with the f- fishes’…” Discomfort clogged my throat, and red bled into my cheeks when Luciano cast his gaze on me. Peeking up through my eyelashes, my jaw quivered at the slight upturn of his lip, and my face flamed like a kerosene fire.

  “And his other assets…” Slowly shaking my head as I followed Luciano to the dining room, I took a deep, steadying breath. His stomping footfall was like a drum, rhythmic and soothing, and he didn’t break stride as he passed through a wide door frame.

  “I don’t know.”

  It took only seconds to journey into the dining room, and I stiffened at the sight that greeted me. Sylvi sat at the head of the table, a woman in his lap hand feeding him. She had thick, bright red waves of hair the color of smoldering coals, and she held her utensil with orange tipped fingers. Even her eyes were a bright hazel color; looking at her was almost enough to blind me.

  Swerving to the left, my eyes widened as yet another girl sat on her knees on the floor. Her mouth was wide open, her body visibly stick thin even behind her long, flowing shirt. My gaze flowed upward to the man she sat next to, and dizziness attacked me when confronted by his never ending tattoos.

  But what struck me was neither woman looked like what I had pictured.

  “Luciano, siediti. Hai trovato qualcosa di più nella cassaforte?” Sylvi’s voice wasn’t as deep as Luciano’s, but it was enough to make me jump. A large hand palmed my lower back, and I looked up at the behemoth next to me. Luciano’s expression was unreadable, stoic, even as he opened his mouth.

  “It’s too early to deal with your fucking bullshit, Sylvi.” The words sounded like they’d been repeated more times than anyone bothered to count. Lifting his hand to his face, Luciano scratched his shadow of a beard before I tore my eyes off him. Pancakes filled my vision, and I licked my lips when I spied strawberries baked in.

  “Just tell us about the safe, Luciano.” Guiding me toward the table, Luciano grunted lowly, and his fingers flexed against my back.

  “Just some shit about fish. The numbers 697. Ring a bell, Tyler?” All was quiet, and Luciano brushed my shoulder with the backs of his fingers. The oak was healthy, shining under the overhead light fixture, and plates were perfectly set in front of each intricately carved, matching chair. Sitting gingerly, I reached for the plate of pancakes with greedy fingers.

  “Fuck-” Tyler’s groan was loud, his fists slamming carelessly against the table top. The bang echoed through the room, pulling a gasp from me as my fingers clutched my burdened plate tightly. “The fucking Aquatic Renewal Cemetery. It’s a burial ground underwater for people that want their ashes to be turned into anchors for budding corals. It was a big ass fucking deal two years ago. Trevor isn’t as stupid as I thought. The only people that go there are biologists that maintain the urns and track coral growth.”

  “Lots of shit has water proofing. I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard to find something to stick in an urn. No one would lie about their dead loved one being inside it.” The conversation went over my head as I stabbed a pancake, effortlessly transferring it to my own plate. Steam rose from the puncture holes, and a soft, satisfied sigh flew from my lips.

  “There was a whole shit storm about six months after its popularity blew up about people going against their dead relatives’ wishes, fights over wills, all that shit. The company instigated a policy to cremate the dead in their own facilities. Anyone that wanted to be buried in their aquatic cemeteries had to have it instated with their legal guardian or ad litem. It had to be videotaped with an officiate present. Basically it was a shit ton of red tape. So Trevor had to have done it before they put all of that into effect.”

  “Whatever he knew, he had to have known before Aya’s parents died…” Stiffening at the mention, I gripped my fork tightly as my pancake bit turned to ash in my mouth. Luciano’s words settled heavily on my shoulders, and my throat closed up to block the strawberry juices.

  “We need to get that fucking safe. Now. We don’t know who gave Trevor whatever information he had, or who he gave it to. Tyler, send Marco’s team wherever this cemetery is and tell him to kill anyone that gets in his fucking way.” Staring down at my suddenly unappetizing breakfast, I swallowed my bite hard enough to make my throat ache. A chair scraped the hardwood floor, but my mind was lost, wandering aimlessly and unable to conjure thought. My chest throbbed with every beat of my heart.

  Trevor must’ve killed them and made it look like an overdose. Blinking at the revelation, my vision blurred slightly.

  “I regret killing him so fast…” Luciano’s growl sent shock waves through me as it traveled up through the floor. Whipping to the side, my gaze locked on his tense form, the only solid thing I could see. His hands were thick, white knuckle fists on the table top, and the veins in his neck were bulging. Heat slithered from him like thick ink, his expression a mix of anger and pain.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Luciano. Trevor probably wouldn’t have talked before his pathetic body gave out anyway. Let Marco retrieve the safe. In the meantime, I’m thinking you need some R&R, Brother. I haven’t seen you fight in too long. What do you think, mia amata ragazza?”

  Luciano slumped to spread his legs under the table. My thighs and butt tingled at the phantom se
nsation, remembering that early morning I had sat on his lap. Watching him drink his bitter, black brew that appeared out of nowhere, I rubbed my tongue against the roof of my mouth absently. Lazily he glanced over, his eyes sharpening into slits on my barely touched plate.

  “Eat.” Blinking at the grunt, I tore my gaze from Luciano to my pancake. The perfect, golden crust was littered with slits of strawberries, creating a red stain that only made it more delicious. Adjusting my grip on my fork, I cut a small piece and brought it to my mouth under an intense, steely regard. My eyelids fluttered shut, the bit melting on my tongue to leave behind the strawberry treasure it held.

  “Great!-” Flickering to Sylvi, my eyes widened at how boy band beautiful he looked with such a wide smile. “Stasera andiamo allo Stadio!”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AYA

  “Where are we going?” My question was almost lost in the gusts of wind that blew through the open car windows, and I clutched my seat belt tightly. Luciano drove so fast I was being pressed into my seat; it happened every time, and I couldn’t help but peek at the needle as it came closer and closer to the neon 100 marker.

  I’d never liked highways.

  “You can’t go to the Stadium looking like that, Aya.” Furrowing my brows at Luciano’s grumble, I pursed my lips together before he glanced at me. “The Stadium is one of the one places people like us go no matter who they’re affiliated with. The Russians- the Italians- powerful street gangs- high end slavers- everyone gets together for one thing. Blood. Think Roman gladiators.”

  Luciano slowed as he spoke, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Reaching for the center console, he rummaged for a moment before tossing me his pack of cigarettes. My fingers worked absently to pop the top, easily pulling out a thin, heavy cylinder.

 

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