by Cora Reilly
“Come on. Let me stitch up your lip now.” Maybe I would have felt sorry for Kiara Vitiello as well if I were capable of it.
CHAPTER 4
KIARA
Aunt Egidia looked incredibly pleased as she entered the library where I had been hiding all day from her and my uncle. “Luca had a meeting with Nino Falcone today.”
I put down the book I was reading, trying to keep my face emotionless. “And?”
“Luca showed Nino a photo of you, and he agreed to marry you.”
She watched me expectantly as if she thought I’d do a happy dance because Nino had approved of my looks. I swallowed hard. “That’s good news.” It was all I could manage, and it lacked enthusiasm.
My aunt pursed her lips. “Kiara, really, I don’t think you grasp what this means.”
Oh, I knew exactly what it meant, and that was the problem. “It takes some getting used to, the idea of marrying him, Aunt Egidia. Don’t worry, by the time I’ll have to marry him, I’ll be able to convey my excitement properly.”
It was a blatant lie. If I managed not to flinch at every touch, that would be a huge success.
“Well, you don’t have much time. Remo Falcone insists things progress quickly. The wedding is set for four weeks from now.”
I dug my fingers into the leather of the armchair, the color draining from my face. “Four weeks? But that’s not enough time to plan everything.”
Definitely not enough time to mentally prepare myself for marrying a Falcone—if I could even prepare for something like that.
“Don’t worry. I already contacted a few bridal shops. Of course some of the most popular dresses are already sold out, but they assured me that they have enough beautiful pieces left.”
“That’s good,” I said in a monotone voice.
Aunt Egidia nodded. “Aria and Giulia will join us. I already talked to both of them, and they are excited. Aria was so nice to make an appointment with the best bridal store in New York. New York seems the most sensible choice, given that we can’t expect the wife of the Capo to travel all the way to Baltimore. Of course, the store managed to squeeze us in tomorrow. Who could refuse Aria Vitiello?”
“Tomorrow?” I asked horrified.
“Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Wonderful,” I managed to say.
Aunt Egidia frowned again. “Anyway, Felix and Luca are trying to figure out the best place to hold the wedding. It’s not going to be New York. Luca doesn’t want the Falcones in his city.”
Didn’t he? I almost laughed.
“I’m sure there are enough other options,” I said quietly.
“Yes, yes. I’m sure,” Egidia said, smiling. “I should call a few florists and make arrangements with them.”
I didn’t bother pointing out that it wouldn’t make sense until we knew where the celebrations would take place. This was Aunt Egidia’s show, even if I was the main attraction.
When she left, I closed my eyes. Four weeks.
Four weeks until my wedding night.
Four weeks until Nino would want to claim his prize.
Four weeks for me to figure out a way to hide that someone had taken that prize years ago. Sickness washed over me, and I pressed a hand to my stomach.
Ten minutes later, Giulia called. “Did my mother already talk to you?”
“A few minutes ago,” I said.
Giulia sighed. “I don’t like this, Kiara. Four weeks, really? It’s like they can’t throw you at Falcone quickly enough, as if they’re worried they might start feeling guilty if they waited any longer.”
“At least that leaves less time for me to fret.” I’d worry anyway. My nights would be haunted by even worse nightmares than they had been before.
“Even Cassio is wary of the Falcones. He showed me a video of Nino Falcone in the cage. It’s sick.”
“A video?” I echoed. “Where can I watch it?”
There was silence on the other end. “Don’t. Don’t watch it.”
My throat tightened. “Where?”
“It’s a forum in the Darknet that the Camorra uses to show their cage fights and illegal street races.”
“Give me the log in information.”
“Kiara—”
“I’m nineteen, not nine. I want to see him, Giulia. I need to.” If I was faced with this monster the first time on our wedding night, I’d bolt. I needed to see what he was capable of, even if a cage fight wouldn’t even begin to cover it.
“Give me a sec. I need to ask Cassio for the info again.” I heard rustling followed by silence on the other end for a while until I heard muffled voices. After what felt like forever, Giulia spoke again. “Do you have somewhere to write it down? It’s long and complicated. The Darknet uses several steps to keep people out.”
I grabbed the pen and paper that I always kept close by when I read a book; I liked writing down my favorite quotes. “I’m ready.”
After jotting everything down, I listened to another one of Giulia’s warnings before we ended the call. Clutching the paper in my sweaty palm, I walked to my room to grab my laptop. My fingers shook as I logged into the forum. There was a list of fights from the last few years. I entered Nino’s name in the search engine, and several fights popped up immediately. I clicked on the latest from only a few weeks ago.
The camera was trained on a massive cage. A broad man stood inside of it, but he was in his thirties and didn’t have any hair. He was too old to be Nino Falcone. A hush went through the crowd and another man stepped into the cage, taller than the first, and I froze. For several moments, my breath stuck in my throat. If a mere video already summoned that kind of horror, what would real life Nino do?
Nino was tall and muscled, and every inch of his torso and arms was covered in tattoos. Flames and knives and screaming faces, and more images and words I couldn’t make out. The flames traveled down his arms to his wrists. They also snaked into his fighting shorts, ending on his muscled thighs.
His expression was focused but completely emotionless.
My fear turned into pure terror when the fight began. Nino was a fighting machine. Every single one of his hits was precision, but what was worse was his analytic expression. He didn’t look like he was fighting in a cage. When his opponent landed a hit, Nino’s face hardly reflected any sign of pain. He kicked and punched hard and fast, without mercy, even as his opponent fell to his knees. Nino was on top of him in a heartbeat, ramming his knee into the man’s back so he sprawled out on the bloody floor. Even that wasn’t enough. Nino wrapped his forearm around the man’s throat and cut off his air. His opponent thrust his elbow into Nino’s side, but he didn’t even wince, only tightened his hold further and eventually the man passed out. Nino released him then and stood. His gaze flitted over the crowd until it focused on the camera. It was as if he was looking straight at me, and the cold, hard look in his eyes awakened the horrors I couldn’t shake off.
I couldn’t believe this was the man I was supposed to marry.
I didn’t sleep more than two hours. Every night, Uncle Durant’s face haunted my dreams as he hovered over me and broke me, but this night it was a different face that had hovered above me, a beautifully cold face.
When our bodyguard drove us to Philadelphia to pick Giulia up, my aunt tried to involve me in a conversation about dresses, but I was too upset to engage in any kind of interaction. I was glad when Giulia joined us in the backseat. After one glance at me, she quickly distracted her mother by talking about her summer plans with the kids.
I sent her a grateful look before I trained my gaze on the window, watching as the landscape rushed past me.
Unlike many women, I didn’t have a dream dress. I never looked at wedding dresses unless I was at a wedding.
Aria waited with her bodyguard inside the store because it was hailing. The moment we stepped inside, a vendor rushed over to us. “Who’s the happy bride?”
Giulia, Aria, and Aunt Egidia looked at me, and the vendor touched my arm. “Exciting, isn’t
it? You’re going to be a breathtaking bride. I can tell.”
I gave her a small smile and followed her toward the display of dresses. “Why don’t you browse the dresses and show me the ones you’d choose for me?” I asked, sinking down into one of the plush armchairs.
That garnered a look from the vendor, but at this point I didn’t care anymore.
Aria and Giulia nodded immediately and set out to look for dresses, but Aunt Egidia’s expression made it clear that she disapproved. However, after a moment she began looking for suitable dresses as well.
Of course, Aunt Egidia chose dresses that would have made most Disney princesses jealous. Too flashy, too eye-catching, just too much. Not me at all. Luckily, Aria and Giulia worked together and found dresses that were closer to my taste.
I chose a simple white mermaid, off-the-shoulder dress with lace trim around the neckline. A sheer veil was attached to the neckline as well and fell down my back and over my bare arms so I didn’t feel quite so exposed.
“Beautiful,” Aria said with a gentle smile. She was still trying to figure out my true feelings regarding the wedding, but I had learned to hide them well over the years. It was the only way to survive after what happened.
Giulia nodded, her eyes watering, and even Aunt Egidia seemed pleased with my choice—even if it wasn’t as flashy as she’d originally planned. “You look very elegant and sophisticated. A true lady.”
I took a deep breath, hoping Nino would treat me as a lady. The man I saw fighting in the cage didn’t strike me as someone who would.
NINO
We pulled up in front of the massive stone and stucco Vitello villa in Baltimore, where the engagement party would take place. With only two days before the actual wedding, there was no logical reason to get officially engaged at all, but logical decisions weren’t the Famiglia’s forte. Savio, Adamo, and Fabiano remained in Las Vegas to make sure things went smoothly over there. They would only fly over for the actual wedding. It wasn’t as if any of us cared for the festivities. It wouldn’t be a huge affair like Aria and Luca’s wedding had been many years ago. Our Underbosses and Captains would stay in their territory. Remo wouldn’t risk anything after the Outfit attack.
“If they’ve invited that fucker Growl, I will paint their walls bright red with his fucking blood and that of any Famiglia fucker who gets in my way,” Remo growled.
“He won’t be invited, Remo. Luca won’t risk it. He knows you and Growl will tear into each other.”
“What about you? You’d fucking stand by and watch that fucker prancing around when he killed our father before we could?”
“Of course not. I’d slice him open ear to ear.”
The moment we got out of the rental car, the door to the house opened, and Felix and Egidia Rizzo appeared in the doorway. Remo shot me a look, one corner of his mouth curling up. “Someone kept an eye on the window, it seems,” he muttered as we walked up to my future wife’s aunt and uncle. The engagement wouldn’t be a grand feast, only held to appease the traditionalists in the Famiglia who required an official engagement before the wedding, but the Rizzos were dressed up in a tuxedo and a long evening dress anyway.
“I think we are underdressed,” I said quietly. I had put on a black turtleneck and black dress pants with black wingtip shoes. Remo was dressed in a similar fashion, minus the turtleneck, which he’d swapped for a black dress shirt.
Remo shrugged.
“All in black,” Mrs. Rizzo said with raised eyebrows after I kissed her hand. “What a curious choice for the occasion.”
“It’s the choice color for our profession. Blood is so very difficult to wash out,” Remo drawled in his best Oxford English as he kissed her hand. That was pretty much the only thing he’d learned during our time in England. Of course, he only used it to unsettle people.
Mrs. Rizzo took a small step back from Remo, tugging her hand out of his grasp.
I shook hands with Mr. Rizzo, and he squeezed harder than was necessary. I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. If he tried this with Remo, the black shirt would prove its worth. “We are honored to give you Kiara in marriage,” he said, releasing my hand. “Please call me Felix, and this is my wife Egidia.”
I sent Remo a warning glance before he shook the man’s hand.
“Come in,” Felix said, stepping back. Remo and I followed him inside. It was a large old house with lots of dark wood and rugs in the entrance hall.
“The guests have already gathered in the living room and on the patio, but you and Kiara should enter together,” Felix said then turned to Remo. “Perhaps you can join the guests. My wife will lead the way.”
Egidia gave a tense smile and motioned for Remo to follow, but he made no move to do so. “I think for now my brother and I will stay together.”
Felix blinked then nodded slowly. “Very well. Come on. I chose the library for your first meeting. It’s the place Kiara spends most of her time.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “She likes to read?”
Felix hesitated. “She does, but she is also very beautiful and demure. The perfect wife despite her intelligence.”
Remo rolled his eyes behind the man’s back. We stepped into a wide room that was filled with dark wooden bookcases. A book lay opened on the small table beside the reading chair. I walked toward it as Felix frowned. “She should be here.”
“Perhaps she decided to run off,” Remo offered helpfully.
“She wouldn’t,” Felix said quickly, but I caught the hint of worry on his face—and so had Remo.
I picked up the book. It was about the history of Las Vegas. It pleased me that she made an effort to learn about my hometown’s history.
“There she is,” Felix said loudly.
I put the book back down, and my eyes moved toward the doorway.
Kiara Vitiello was a fine-boned woman, shorter than I’d expected, almost breakable in appearance, but her hips curved nicely under her dress, and she had above-average-sized breasts. She wore a dress the color of light rose, almost white, but it made her look even more fragile. Clearly it was to emphasize her innocence, but I would have preferred bolder colors. Her dark eyes settled on my face—not my eyes, though—lower, perhaps on my nose, and her shoulders tensed ever so slightly. She hadn’t moved from the doorway, appearing almost frozen. Her palm pressed up to the doorframe, and I knew it was to steady herself.
Remo looked at me, gauging my reaction, which was a futile effort on his part.
Her uncle motioned for her to come closer. “Come on, Kiara. Greet your future husband and brother-in-law.”
A second passed before she pulled herself away from the doorway and walked toward us. Her movements were elegant and purposeful but underplayed with a hint of a tremor she couldn’t suppress.
She stopped beside her uncle.
Even wearing heels, she only reached my chin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said in a soft voice. Her eyes darted from my face to Remo’s then quickly back to her uncle.
“The pleasure is mine,” I replied, and Remo’s smile pulled wider. Kiara flinched slightly, almost imperceptible, but Remo had noticed, twitching his lip, and so had I.
Her uncle cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“I would like a few minutes alone with her to give her the ring and get to know each other,” I said, never taking my eyes off her.
“Well,” her uncle said, his eyes flitting between Remo and me and then to Kiara. “I’m not sure—”
Remo flashed him a twisted smile. “They will be married in two days. Then she will come to Las Vegas with us, but you are worried about her being alone for a couple of moments with my brother? She will be subject to his will for the rest of her life.”
Kiara’s shoulders rounded, caving in, and she swallowed hard.
Felix paled, his eyes hardening. “This is for peace. Don’t forget that.”
I spoke up before Remo could because he looked like he would have used his knife instead of words, and I wanted this annoyi
ng power play to end quickly. “You shouldn’t forget it either. Kiara isn’t your concern anymore. She is mine.” I showed him the ring, and her eyes flitted toward it briefly. “Today, I will put this ring on her finger, and then my word is the law, not yours.”
Resignation filled her face, and her shoulders slumped, but she caught herself quickly and straightened again.
“What do you say, Kiara?” her uncle asked. “Do you agree to talk to Nino?”
She met his gaze, her lips tense. “This is the first time you’ve asked me if I agree. As Mr. Falcone pointed out, I will be under my future husband’s rule soon enough, so I don’t see how it matters now.”
Her uncle stared at her, a blank look on his face. Obviously he was not used to any objection from her. He gave a jerky nod and turned on his heel, rushing out of the room.
Before Remo moved to follow, he turned to Kiara. “Never call me Mr. Falcone again. That was my father, and I would have burned the fucker alive if I had been given the chance.”
He stalked past Kiara, and she shied away from him so his arm wouldn’t brush hers. Remo threw the door shut, and Kiara jumped. She wasn’t naturally submissive, even if she acted that way.
I held out my hand, a silent order, and wondered if she’d comply. She stepped up to me and put her palm in mine, not meeting my eyes. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, my thumb pressing against her veins. She shivered, goose bumps rising on her skin.
Dilated pupils, accelerated breathing, racing pulse, trembling, Kiara had the telltale signs of terror. I kept my thumb on her pulse point as I regarded her. She finally raised her gaze to mine, and her pulse sped up further. Her body’s reactions could have been a sign for arousal as well, but I knew they weren’t.
“So you didn’t agree to marry me,” I pointed out.
Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze returned to my chin. “I did agree when Luca asked me, but my uncle never asked when he made the offer.”
“Why did you agree when Luca asked, then?”
Her brows drew together. “Because it wasn’t really a choice; it was disguised as one. In this life women aren’t given choices.”