Even if I had, I wouldn't let her go. I'd follow her wherever she went and bring her back to me.
But I never wanted to hurt her.
"Does Rowe have security tapes with audio up there? I want to know what the fuck she said to her." There was a moment where Emilio must have muffled the phone as he spoke to Rowe.
"No, Sir. Just video. Rowe tried calling her, but her phone is on her desk."
I nodded my head before I realized he couldn't see me. My fury spiked, even as I abandoned my manager in training and stalked for the front door. "Fuck! She left the fucking phone where I planted the tracker? I'm calling Ryker. You put in the call to Donatello. He'll mobilize people to help you search nearby. Ryker and I will take her favorite spots in the city. Access the external cameras and see if you can tell if she huffed it on foot or took a cab."
"You've got it boss."
I hung up the phone, slamming my fist into the side of the brick building as soon as I stepped out. The blood on my knuckles only made me ache for her more, for the care she would show if she knew I was injured. Samara was the only person who'd ever tended to my injuries, except for maybe my mother before I could remember.
Dialing the number, I spoke before he even greeted me. "Samara ran. I need you to find her, now," I ordered.
He grunted into the phone. "I'm on Connor's trail. You sure you want me to leave it?"
"Do you have him in your sight?" I asked.
"No. Not that close. The guy's slippery as fuck."
"Then find my wife. I'll text you a list of places she likes to go. I'll take the other half of them."
"Got it," he grunted. My fingers flew over the keyboard furiously until my driver and security stepped out of the club.
Georgio took one look at my face and retreated to get the car as I typed out the list of places Samara might go to hide. I sent the more public ones to Ryker, knowing he might scare her off if she got a good look at him. My Little Dove knew most of my family, but not Ryker, and he was one scary looking fucker.
The man scared the bravest of men, and my Little Dove was skittish even if she tried to hide it.
"Where to?" Georgio asked as he pulled up.
"Samara's old house," I hissed dialing the neighbor. When she didn't answer, I hoped to God Samara had chosen to hide out there. Somewhere relatively safe, with someone who could try and talk her down from the ledge. She'd called me without Samara's permission once, so I had to wonder why she wouldn't do it again.
All the phone calls I'd eavesdropped in on between the two women had been pleasant, with Samara doing nothing to indicate she wasn't happy with me.
When my phone rang, I answered it without glancing at the name on the screen. "Yeah?"
"Talk to me. Enzo said you just tore out of the club like a bat outta Hell." Matteo's voice held all the worry I knew I would have if he left work suddenly. There was only one thing that could make us abandon our jobs like that.
Our women.
"Samara ditched Emilio. Mia went to see her at work and then she was just gone," I answered.
"Fuck," Matteo hissed. "Don! Track Samara's phone! Now!" he yelled. In any other circumstances I'd have cursed him for making me deaf. In these, I didn't give the first fuck.
"She left the phone at her desk," I growled.
"Fuck, I told you to put one in her."
“And how did that work for you when you almost lost Ivory because of that bullshit?” I asked, and he went silent on the other side of the line. He seemed to realize that arguing with me right now would not end well for him.
“I’ll get all the guys out and looking for her. We’ll find her. I’ll have Don check her call log.” He hung up, nothing more to say about it. I tried to call Yavin, feeling so desperate to find her that I’d even tell her brother about whatever problems we had in our relationship, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
If she was okay, I'd fucking make sure she never left me again. She had to realize what this would do to me, worrying about her with Connor on the loose.
She had to be okay.
My head rested in my hands when Linda's name popped up on my phone.
I answered, hoping like Hell she had my woman in her house. “Is Samara with you?”
“No, no. Of course not. Has something happened?”
“She slipped her security,” I said, but I didn’t bother answering her other questions. “Call me if you hear from her.” Then I hung up, because the concern in the woman’s voice was real. There would be no faking that kind of worry.
"Fuck!" I roared, punching the back of the front passenger seat. I needed the pain, needed it to ground me against everything that shredded my insides.
Why the fuck couldn't she just talk to me?
"Where now, boss?" Georgio was brave to ask me the question.
"Sadie's gym. She probably thought Sadie would keep her safe and let her hideout until she made a plan. The crazy ass woman would too if she believed whatever bullshit Mia told her."
He hung a U-turn at the next intersection, heading straight for the gym.
I'd find her.
I had to find her.
I couldn't lose her.
Not now, not ever.
Forty
Samara
I lost track of how long I sat in The Bird Lounge, absorbing the music and the pulse of energy it gave me before I worked up the courage to even look at my brother. The confliction on his face was obvious, the phone in his hand turned off to ignore the way people had called him repeatedly when they realized I was gone.
I wasn't ready to deal with any of them.
But I finally let him turn it back on, using it to call Jasper and listening to the sound of the ringtone while I waited. "Oh, thank fuck. Do you have Samara?" he asked, and I felt instant guilt for worrying him.
"I'm fine," I said, glancing away from the hallway to look at the stage where the singer on stage was getting ready to do his set. "I just needed some air."
"You could have at least told me what was going on, fuck Samara. Do you have any idea how worried everyone is?"
"I can imagine." I winced, but I still had no intention of calling anyone else in that moment. "I need to be away from them for a little while so I can think. Someone gave me some things to think about, so I'm taking the time to do that. You can tell them I'm okay if you want. I'm not going to tell you where I am. I might not be in tomorrow. I have to decide what the Hell I'm going to do first."
"Samar—" I hung up the phone, ignoring all the other calls, but I braved opening Yavin’s text messages.
Fifteen from Lino.
Where are you?!
It isn't safe.
Please bring her back to me.
Talk to me.
Answer the fucking phone!
Bring her home.
On and on they went, over the course of the apparent four hours we'd sat in The Bird Lounge. My gut twisted with a mix of pain and guilt. I didn't have a home, not if what Mia had said about Lino was true. I wouldn't settle for a husband who cheated, for a man who would never love me.
I'd rather be alone.
I went back to my seat as the next singer started his set, reclaiming my lone table in the corner and getting lost in the twang of his voice while Yavin studied his phone. It was something so uncommon in Chicago, so refreshing to hear something entirely different. It sounded so sad, like it echoed the hollow feeling yawning inside my chest.
“Maybe we should call him,” Yavin caved, giving me a guilty look. I hated that I’d put him in the position where he had to choose between his loyalty to me and his loyalty to Lino.
“You can text him,” I agreed. “Just tell him I’m safe.”
Eventually, when the singer’s set finished, I stood from my table and decided to move on. Go to the bathroom and let Yavin take me to his place for the night. I stood, picking up my purse, and turning to find Lino standing in the doorway. He was drenched and rain came down in a heavy downpour through the window of
the door behind him.
My eyes went to Yavin, taking in the guilty way he stared at his feet. Lino gave him a look that seemed to communicate that they’d be having words at some point, but I didn’t stick around to tell Yavin how betrayed I felt. I couldn’t, not with the way Lino’s eyes burned into me. Not with the way the hair stood up on my arms and seemed to scream at me that I was in grave danger.
With a swallow, I turned. My feet couldn't move quickly enough, I needed to escape, needed to get away. The hall at the back had an emergency exit behind the bathrooms, and I made for it. I'd barely gotten through the door when the rain instantly pelted me and drenched my hair. My heels slipped in a puddle as I made my way down the alley, and the sound of the door blowing wide open resounded behind me with a bang.
"Samara!" he roared, and I didn't allow myself to stop. Couldn't stop.
I hadn't fortified myself, hadn't found a way to face him and see the lies in his eyes for what they were. I'd always had a blind spot where he was concerned, and I needed a plan before I dealt with him. His hand caught my arm, spinning me in place until I was pressed against his chest and all I could see was the way his lungs heaved.
With his grip still on me, he backed me up, his presence so looming and seeming so much larger than normal that I had no choice but to comply. When my back hit the brick of the building, I gasped. His head tipped down, glaring down at me with a savage look in his eyes that made me swallow. Fear swelled.
The first time in my life I could ever remember being afraid of Lino.
Water dripped from his face, from the thick hair that was usually so flawless to splatter off my face and run inside my jacket.
It was so fucking cold.
"Lino, please," I begged. "Let me go. Just let me go."
"I will never let you go. Do you understand me, vita mia?" The whisper was anything but a sweet declaration, nothing but warning and rage in his voice. "Do you have any idea how fucking terrified I've been? Connor could have found you! He could have finished the job this time." My heart broke, the reminder that everything was fake. Everything was about my protection. Not about his feelings for me that didn't exist.
"I'm sorry I scared you. Now, as you can see, I'm fine. I was smart and I called Yavin to protect me, now fucking let me go!"
When his head jolted back, I realized I'd rarely, if ever, genuinely yelled at him. I'd never needed to. My tears mingled with the rain, sliding down my cheeks until it felt like my raw heart was outside my chest, on display and ready to be shredded into a million pieces. "What did she say to you?" His voice softened, some of the anger fading when he cupped my cheek.
"It doesn't matter. She didn't say anything I shouldn't have already seen. I convinced myself that you felt the same way, that this was real," I sobbed. "And it never was. It never will be. I appreciate that you tried to keep me safe, but I want to go to Yavin's. I think it's best I stay with him until we can get the marriage annulled. I'm sure you have the connections to—"
"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." He slid his body into mine, his hand reaching down to force my legs apart and make space for him between them. I glanced around the alley, grateful as all Hell that the overcast sky had gone dark.
"Stop it," I swatted at his hand when it inched my skirt up my thighs.
"You're my wife. You will always be my wife. Get that through your stubborn fucking head," he grunted, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips that I turned my head away from. "Whatever Mia told you, I can promise you it isn't true, but I can't do that unless you talk to me."
Could he see me bleeding? Could he see the way my heart bled, and my soul cracked inside my chest?
I didn't speak, couldn't voice the words when his eyes stared down at me so harshly. They softened again, and he touched his forehead to mine. "You really have no clue, do you?" he whispered, his voice suddenly filled with a pain that felt a lot like mine.
"I don't know anything, it seems," I argued defensively, trying to turn my head away from his. But his hands caught my face, framing it and holding my eyes with an intensity that scared me.
"I'm in love with you," he whispered, and I felt the sob that wracked my body at the sound of those words. Words I'd dreamed of hearing but couldn't believe. Everything was a lie. Why wouldn't this be too?
"Don't lie to me," I gasped, tugging my head back so hard that it cracked against the brick. He pressed on.
"I've been in love with you since I was a boy, Little Dove. In school, my father and uncle threatened to kill you and Ivory if we didn't stay away from you. Matteo got to have Ivory for a little while, because they never could have guessed she would come to mean so much to him. Who could have? It was high school. People don't fall in love like that when they're so young. But you?" He huffed a laugh. "My father knew what you were to me long before I did, and he was always trying to get me to push you away. When the threats against me, the beatings didn't work, he did the only thing that could keep me away from you."
"Don't," I sobbed.
"He threatened you. He threatened to take you from me, to kill you, to sell you. He threatened everything under the sun, and it got to the point that I knew he meant it. There was nothing I could do to stop him, except not be with you. I loved you too much to let him hurt you. I would have done anything to keep you safe, Samara. By the time Matteo had enough power and his father was gone, by the time I could have made you mine, you were married."
"Then why didn't you tell me how you felt when I told you about the divorce?" I whispered the words, refusing to believe the confession, the lies.
"I wanted you to be divorced before I made my move. I never planned on waiting long before we got married. Why do you think I was so fucking annoyed that you wouldn't let me hurry it along?" He chuckled, as if my inability to see how he felt was nothing but an indication of my stubbornness. As if anyone who looked could see how he felt about me. I glared at him, flinching back from his sigh. "I love you, Samara. I have always loved you. Needing to protect you only gave me an excuse to do what I already wanted."
"Lino. I can't—" I started to beg.
"Shh. I love you. I will tell you over and over again until you actually hear me. Until you listen." He took my hand in his, pressing it to his chest that thumped in a ferocious heartbeat that matched my own. "How can you not feel it? How can you not feel the way that we're connected, like we're two parts of the same whole?"
I clenched my eyes shut, trying to tune out the words, trying to tune out the world and just think. He took all my thoughts, turned me to mush, the second he got his hands on me. The minute he smiled.
"I love you, my wife," he repeated. "Tell me you don't love me, and I'll stop."
"Of course, I love you," I spat. "You know damn well I do!"
With a grin that broke my heart, he crashed his lips down on mine. There was no reprieve, no shoving him off.
And as soon as I felt his tongue touch my lip, I didn't even want to. I wanted to feel something that wasn't a lie. I shrank against him, melting into his arms despite myself. As soon as he pulled away, he hefted me into his arms. My head flew over his shoulder, facing the ground so suddenly that I screeched. "Put me down!"
"Not a fucking chance," he growled, storming down the alley and to the car that waited for him. Georgio hurried out of the driver's seat, helpfully opening the back door so that he could toss me in and climb in after me.
"Dammit, Lino. You can't just throw me in a car and take me home with you! I want to stay with Yavin." The door closed behind him with a hard thud, making me jump in my seat.
"Watch the road and call Matteo. Tell him I've got her, and he can inform everyone. Have him call Yavin and tell him I took her home."
"Yes, Sir." There was a smile in Georgio's voice as he hit buttons on the control console and spoke into the headpiece he stuck on his ear.
"Traitor!" I yelled, even if it was ridiculous. I'd always known Georgio's loyalty was to Lino, just like everyone else's, but it didn't change t
he fact that I liked the man. "Don't touch me!" I yelled when Lino's hands reached out to grab me. The streets of Chicago passed by in a blur as Georgio navigated through traffic like the expert he was. Lino grabbed my waist, tugging me over until I landed in his lap, and he could tug my arms behind my back and hold me like that.
"You just told me you loved me for the first time, and you thought I wouldn't shove you in the car and take you home? I won't fuck you in an alley. You deserve a castle and a knight, Samara. But you got me instead. I won't sully you more with an alley fuck where anybody could see what's mine."
I fought back the tears that burned my throat. I wouldn't give him that much of me, wouldn't cave to the lies he told, but God.
That look in his eyes as he stared up at me made my heart hurt. The thought that he could fake that— that he could look like he held the world in his hands when he looked at me, and not mean a thing.
"I love you," he murmured, and those eyes held mine, as if he could compel me to believe him.
Maybe he could, because my heart stuttered in my chest like it might try and reanimate. Come back to life. I shook my head to clear it. "Please, don't lie to me. Not about this. I can't, fuck, I can't take it. Please."
"Vita mia," he groaned. "You're killing me, Little Dove. Listen to me when I say I fucking love you."
Thump.
Thump.
Hope bloomed inside me when I really looked at him, really saw the way he looked at me as if he expected me to see inside him. There was no deception in his gaze, just raw, emotional love that made me want to sob in relief. "You promise?”
“I promise, Samara. I will love you until the day I die, and then I’ll love you from Hell.”
I swallowed, letting the confession permeate through my walls for just a moment. A tear fell, thinking that I might have wasted so much time. “You aren't going to get sick of me and go have affairs?"
Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2) Page 28