That went for time as much as food.
Just not when it came to his family legacy and opulent home. We all had our quirks, I supposed.
Striding through the entryway, I made my way down the hall to the left until I stood in the open door of his office. His daughter Irina stood in front of the desk, pointing something out to him briefly. Seeming to hear my approach, she turned to face me with a bright smile. "Mr. Bellandi. How nice to see you."
"It's good to see you too, Irina," I said, genuine in my joy at seeing her. I'd given to her charity frequently, had gotten to know the woman in passing, just well enough to know that she was one of the good ones.
"How's Samara?" she asked, having seen right through my bullshit the first time she laid eyes on Samara and I together at one of her charity functions where I often brought her as my date.
"She’s why I'm here actually," I said, glancing toward her father where he sat behind his desk and eyeing our interaction. "Her ex has been jerking her around with the divorce. I need it taken care of today."
"Well, hello to you too, Angelino," Judge Ryan said with a grin, gesturing to the seat opposite him.
"I'll leave you to it," Irina ducked out of the room, knowing full well that she had no place in her father's business when it came to his position as a judge.
"Hello, Judge," I sighed, dropping into the seat when he eyed it again.
"Surely you know that interfering in divorce proceedings is a little outside my specialty." He eyed me warily.
I glanced around the office, appreciating the finer points of his masculine space that tended toward very traditional lines. It may not have been to my personal taste, but that didn't mean it wasn't something I could appreciate, regardless. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
"And this has nothing to do with your feelings for the girl?" His look of disbelief said he knew that to be bullshit.
I sighed. "Of course it does, but it's complicated."
"Enlighten me, or I'm afraid I can't wade in without understanding what I'm getting into. You're a businessman. You know my reputation is on the line for every one of these favors we negotiate. I need to know that it won't blow back on me."
I spit it out, not having any choice but to just admit the truth in the face of his threat not to help me. I didn't know any other judges well enough to go to them with a request like this. "He was abusive. Raped her when she asked for the divorce. Three nights ago, he broke into the house and strangled her. Turns out, he burned through his trust fund and needs money to pay off Tiernan Murphy. I need her divorced from Walsh before Murphy comes looking for retribution. It's the best way to keep her safe."
He sat back in his chair, blinking at me. "He hurt her?"
I nodded back, eyeing my hands that clenched into fists. "She can't go to work because she's bruised so badly. Her feet are scarred from stepping on glass when she tried to get away from him after the rape."
He sighed, rubbing his hands over his aging face. "Granting the divorce will only do so much good in the eyes of Tiernan Murphy. Without something to protect her, he'll still try to use her as leverage. Murphy doesn't pass up a woman like Miss Mahoney when he gets her under his thumb."
"I know. She won't be Samara Mahoney for long. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her. You know that."
"You'll marry her to protect her?"
"I'll marry her, because I love her. But yes, I'll marry her now to protect her," I agreed. "Once she's Samara Bellandi, not even Tiernan Murphy would dare to touch her."
"Have you informed her of your pending nuptials?" he asked, but he was already reaching for the phone at his side to make the appropriate phone calls.
"Not yet." I shrugged, even though anxiety swirled in my gut. I meant it when I said that I would do anything to protect her, even manipulating her into marrying me through threats.
I just really hoped it didn't come to that for the sake of our marriage.
"I wish you the best of luck with that, my friend," the judge chuckled, dialing his phone. I tuned him out when he started talking to someone on the other line, finding out who was responsible for Samara's case and negotiating his way through it with as little information as possible. I appreciated his discretion, because I knew Samara would kill me if the abuse became common knowledge thanks to my interference.
I didn't want her on my bad side, even if the thought of going toe to toe with her was a welcome one.
Especially once she was my wife.
By the time he ended his phone call, there was a Divorce Decree waiting for me to pick up at the Court. Samara was free, and I was free to make her mine.
Fucking finally.
Thirteen
Samara
Hanging out with Enzo hadn't proven to be too horrible. In fact, he reminded me of Lino. At least, when Lino wasn't bogged down in stress because of my life and the decisions I'd made. He was humorous, thoroughly entertaining, even though he looked like a beast.
I'd met him occasionally, but never seen him in anything other than a suit. So when he'd turned up in jeans and a simple black V-neck with motorcycle boots on his feet, I'd had to do a double take. The word Ride stretched up the underside of his right bicep, Die up the left. I had to imagine there was a creative way of squeezing the Or in under his clothes, and I nearly felt curious enough to ask. The only thing that stopped me was Lino's strange behavior before he'd left the house.
I didn't pretend that I ever knew what went on inside my best friend's head. He was a mystery, but for him to seem so jealous was unheard of.
So Enzo and I spent a few hours watching segments of action movies from Lino's collection, debating how difficult stunts might have been. I seemed to be firmly in the camp of "that shit isn't possible." Enzo was in the camp of, "looks like fun."
Insane. He was insane, but I suspected he did it to entertain me. To distract me from everything going on. I knew, in some vague sense, that he'd been the driver who drove from my house to Lino's the other night. I also knew he was kind enough not to comment on the bruises or the night in question. He didn't act like a babysitter, just went about waiting on me hand and foot in a way that made me feel less like a burden.
So when Lino came home, I was half asleep on the couch, with Enzo sitting in the recliner I knew Lino often favored. The relaxed cadence of Lino's voice was full of relief, and just enough to draw me back from the edge of sleepy land. "Hey, vita mia," he murmured, bending down to stroke his fingers through my hair.
"Hey," I murmured back sleepily.
"How'd it go?" Enzo asked. I turned my gaze his way to find him standing and stretching out his behemoth body.
"It's done," Lino said cryptically.
"What's done?" I asked. I didn't know what possessed me, because I knew better than to ask questions about Lino's business. Nothing good could come of it.
"Your marriage." He grinned at me, handing me a piece of paper that I sat up to accept. The bold words stared back at me, making me gasp in shock.
Divorce Decree.
I was divorced. Finally, totally and completely free of Connor after nearly a year of fighting, all because I couldn't bring myself to admit what he'd done to me. "I'm divorced?" I asked, turning my wide eyes up to him.
"Yes, you're finally divorced." His eyes turned to liquid fire as he stared down at me. I couldn't even guess at what passed through his head, and the moment ended as quickly as it started when Enzo cleared his throat.
"Right then, I should be off." He approached us, leaning down to touch my shoulder. I couldn't help my reaction, still half stuck in the disorientation that came with waking up and having my world rocked by my own divorce.
I flinched back so sharply I jostled the sofa. Shame instantly took over. Because I hated reacting that way to a man who had been nothing but kind to me. My breath came in a wheeze, and I opened my mouth to apologize.
"It's alright, darlin'. Don't you worry about it. Healing takes time. I'll see you when you finally show your face a
t the office." He turned a knowing grin Lino's way before striding out of the living room. I wanted to call after him and tell him I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but my voice seemed stuck in my throat.
"It really is okay, Samara," Lino soothed me, holding out his arms. I nodded, taking the invitation to stand and wrap my arms around his neck. He lifted until I was high enough on his body to switch his hold down to the bottom of my thighs, and the feeling of his fingers so close to the most intimate parts of me should have felt more intrusive. Should have felt scary given the way I'd reacted to Enzo's hands on my freaking shoulder. But instead, all I felt was comfort. Every inch of me that touched Lino never felt anything but safe, and I hoped that would never change.
"How did you get the divorce pushed through?"
"I have friends in high places. Called in a favor with Judge Ed Ryan," he answered, my body barely moving as he strode up the stairs. He kept me so still, so stable in his arms that there was no room for fear. I trusted him not to drop me, trusted that he would do everything in his power to catch me anytime I fell.
I took comfort in the fact that he was my rock, my constant in life that I could always depend on. Even if our relationship was never meant to be more that friendship, there was something truly beautiful in the way we loved each other so fiercely without the complication of sex. He felt like my partner far more than Connor ever had, and I supposed I should have listened to that voice instead of saying I do to a man I had no business marrying.
I'd aimed too high, disappointed him when I couldn't be the perfect society wife he needed. Drove him to drinking and gambling out his regrets for the choice he made in marrying me. But I'd learned my lesson, learned that sometimes a person was truly better off alone.
So I didn't have a man waiting in my bed every night. That was what vibrators were for, and if I wanted to find someone to have sex with, that possibility was always there. I got the companionship I needed from Lino.
Everything else was optional.
“There’s more good news today too,” he whispered as he carried me.
“Hmm?” I asked, sleepiness already setting in after the momentary jolt to my senses.
“Ivory had the baby a couple hours ago. She and Luna are doing just fine.” He nuzzled his nose against mine with a genuine, joyful grin on his face. I’d missed seeing it and hated myself for the fact that my situation had taken it from him—even temporarily.
“That’s good. Has Matteo given them a few moments of peace before he starts peeing on them both?”
His quiet chuckle lit up his eyes, and I realized that watching the transformation from so close was even more spectacular than all the times I’d seen it with more distance between us. “I think the hospital staff would discourage it. They’re probably safe until they go home.”
I gave him a mock gasp, all too aware of the way his eyes fixated on my mouth. “How dare the hospital staff discourage caveman traits? That’s discrimination, that is.”
When he walked into the bedroom, he dropped me on the bed gently. His eyes were still warm on mine as he murmured, “Get some sleep, Little Dove. You’re going to need it soon.” He turned to go shower off his day in the bathroom. I curled up, resting my face on the pillow he used every night so that his scent surrounded me. Not even his ominous warning was enough to push away the comfort that enveloped me and drew me in.
I was asleep before he got out of the shower.
Divorced. Single.
Free.
Fourteen
Lino
Matteo's home never seemed forbidden. Not like it had when my uncle had been in charge and ran the house like a prison. Despite the security that Matteo stepped up after Ivory came back into his life, the guards were friendly and valued the trust given to them. Matteo rewarded loyalty and good employees, and they often enjoyed rather cushy jobs for being mobsters.
Guarding a mansion behind a twelve-foot fence and gate was about as safe as it got when it came to safety. Even if they had to brave the cold winters of Chicago to check the property or do their rotations outside. So, it was no wonder that as soon as I walked in the door, Scar grinned at me.
The house was jovial on the most casual days.
The day after Luna was born was a special circumstance.
I didn't want to intrude on their family time, or distract from Ivory's recovery, but Matteo had called me over to meet my baby cousin.
There was no saying no to an invitation like that.
I'd wanted to bring Samara with me, but I thought seeing the bruises on her throat might cause Ivory distress. Matteo had said the birth went as smoothly as anyone could have ever expected, his Angel handling childbirth as well as she handled shanking villains who threatened unborn babies.
Scar wasn't what I would have called a softy, though Ivory brought that out in him. But watching the man walk around cooing to the newborn cradled in his arms was downright comical.
I reached out for the beautiful girl, glaring at the kitchen when Don's voice called out. "Wash your hands, you filthy animal! You will infect her with some disease, and I'll kill you myself!"
Scar chuckled quietly, his chest vibrating with his attempt to hold in the sound so he wouldn't wake Luna. I grunted, making my way to the kitchen and stripping off my suit jacket to roll up my sleeves.
I made a point of showing Don how I washed every crevice of my hands. "Fucking Ryker went right for her. That man has more blood under his fingernails than a mortician, but he thinks he can just grab the moon girl? Not on my watch." He waved the knife in my face as he chopped up cucumbers for Ivory. It appeared that her craving didn't just go away when she gave birth.
I supposed it was preferable to the pickle craving. Don had made more late-night pickle runs than I could count.
That and banana yogurt with dark chocolate chips in it. The woman was a nut.
I highly suspected Matteo would never touch a banana anything again.
As soon as my hands were washed to Don's preference, Scar finally handed over the baby. "Well, hello there little Princess," I cooed at her, tucking her head into my arm and bouncing the way I'd seen Scar doing. She didn't stir, just let me take hold of her while she slept.
"Where's Ivory?" I whispered as I stared down at the bundle in my arms. Faint chestnut hair like her mother, with long and dark lashes even though her head was mostly bald. Those little lips came straight from her mother, pursed into a perfect angelic pout as she slept. But the nose was all Matteo, and I knew from his rambling last night that she had his blue eyes. The perfect combination of the two of them, all wrapped up in a lilac baby blanket and sleeping soundly. Hopefully, she would keep the blue eyes. She felt tiny in my arms, and I instantly wanted a dozen of them for myself.
"Sleeping. Little Luna kept her up most of the night. It was a rough first night home," Don answered, but there was nothing but affection in his voice as he stared at the baby in my arms. No frustration that his own sleep had probably been interrupted since he lived on the property as well.
"What are they doing home from the hospital? Shouldn't they be under observation or something?" I asked, because even I knew it was uncommon to come home the next day.
It was Scar who answered, and I really should have seen the answer coming. After Ivory's run-in with Adrian Ricci that had resulted in Scar getting shot, Matteo took no chances where her safety was concerned. "You know Matteo. Security risks. He has a doctor coming to check on them both twice a day to be safe, but everything looks good so they're safer here."
"Makes sense," I nodded, staring down at the other woman he would no doubt take no risks with. The poor thing would probably be under lock and key for most of her life, if not all.
I didn't blame Matteo one bit.
Ivory came down the steps slowly, and I watched as Donatello hurried over to her side. "You know you shouldn't do the stairs alone. We could have brought her up to you."
She chuckled, waving the older man off in favor of stepping up to me and holdin
g out her arms with her brow raised. I found I didn't want to relent, the little one felt far too good in my arms. Like a baby belonged there.
I'd have to remedy that as soon as I could get Samara on board, and as soon as I dealt with my father.
With a sigh, I handed Luna over to her mother. The baby opened her eyes the moment she sensed Ivory, looking up at her with an obvious love that only a mother could receive from a newborn. "Matteo and Ryker are waiting in the office," Scar said finally, hovering over Ivory. She smiled up at her bodyguard, reaching up to pat his cheek when he cooed at Luna.
The obvious friendship, the strength of the bond they'd formed was one I could only hope Samara would form once I assigned her a full-time guard. I just hoped it didn't take anyone getting shot to form it.
With a wave and a kiss on Ivory's cheek, I made my way down the hall to Matteo's office with Don at my heels. Scar stayed behind, never far from Ivory's side even in the privacy of their home unless Matteo was nearby. Somehow Ivory was entirely comfortable with his presence, like he was just an extension of her. Even when they didn't interact, they were at peace in one another's presence, and I had to hope that she would somehow be able to convince Scar that he deserved the kind of love she'd found with Matteo.
The kind of love I had with Samara.
The kind of love that never went away, that waited until it was safe. The kind of love that existed because of sacrifice.
Real.
When we entered the office, Matteo stood with a broad smile. The proud father, silently asking if I'd seen his precious girl. The best thing he'd ever made. "She's perfect," I said, stepping up and giving him a brief hug and pat on the back. "Completely perfect."
Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Page 8