by T. O. Smith
“You sure you really want to make this decision, Little Sis? I’m trying to give you the time to change your mind, but Pops isn’t going to be too happy to hear that his little princess is running and hiding.” I heard someone that sounded a lot like Robert Reids snarl.
“You may as well put the fucking bullet in my head, Rob. I’m done with this shit. I’m done with it all.” I heard someone that sounded a lot like Sasha – my newest employee – respond.
I heard a loud smack, and I heard Sasha curse. I instantly rounded the corner, my gun held up at Robert. He looked over his shoulder at me, clenching his jaw in anger. I could feel Sasha’s shocked eyes on me, but I ignored her. “Do we have an issue?” I demanded, my cold, dark eyes locked on his blue ones.
“This is a family matter.” Robert snarled at me. “This doesn’t involve you.”
Questions ran through my mind, but I pushed them to the side to be answered later. I needed him off of this fucking property. “I beg to differ when this is my fucking bar.” Vincent snarled. Sasha sucked in a sharp breath of shock. “When I see a man roughing up a woman on my property, it definitely becomes my fucking business.” Vincent retorted.
Robert clenched his jaw, realizing that any wrong move on his part would start a war he really didn’t want - not with the Italian Mafia.
“Fine.” He finally snapped. He let his eyes meet Sasha’s, and she glared back at him defiantly. My cock stirred in my jeans at the defiance and glittering anger in her eyes. I fucking loved a woman that would face death with a straight, no-nonsense face.
“Pops will find out, Sasha, and you better hope that there’s still some God out there that gives a shit about you.” He snarled.
I watched as he strode off towards his black Mercedes, making sure he left before I turned back to face Sasha. Blood was trickling down the left side of her face from a cut above her eyebrow, close to her hairline. I slid my gun back into my suit jacket, locking my dark eyes on her blue ones. Protectiveness for her slid around me, but I tampered it down. She was a fucking Reids. Trying to be with her, even for a quick fuck, would bring trouble my family didn’t need.
“You have two minutes to explain.” I snapped at her. “You’re bound by a contract.” I reminded her when she looked ready to deny me an explanation.
She angrily clenched her jaw, more anger sparking up in those gorgeous blue eyes. “My last name didn’t give it away for you?” She demanded.
Reids.
“Fanculo.” I swore, clenching my jaw. “You’re one of them?” I demanded angrily.
“Not by choice.” She snapped back at me. Fuck, that attitude of hers was only serving to turn me on further. She wasn’t helping my fucking situation. “Obviously, if you’d actually paid attention before you two stormed over here like fucking macho men,” Vincent barked out a laugh at her words that had me narrowing my eyes at him in warning, “he was giving me an ultimatum. Either I come back to where I’m supposed to be, or I get buried in a shallow fucking grave in Pop’s backyard.”
Her words rang through my mind.
You may as well put the fucking bullet in my head.
“So, what’s your fucking plan?” Vincent asked her as he slid his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “Are you just going to run until they catch you?” He asked her.
I locked my eyes back on her face, wanting to know her answer. If that were all she planned to do, she would be dead by the end of the week.
That protectiveness over her slid around me again, burying itself deep into my veins.
She shrugged. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” She retorted. “I have no other contacts, no back-up. The only way to protect myself would be to get involved in all of the illegal shit with another crew, but I’m bound by a fucking contract, not to mention I’m serving fifteen years of parole. That’s not an option for me. I don’t have another choice.”
“You do.” I told her, suddenly wanting to do nothing more than protect her from her family. I knew it would probably bring hell on the famiglia if I did what I was thinking, but there was something about Sasha that made me want to protect her from all of the monsters in our world.
She arched an eyebrow at me. “What – return to them?” She demanded. She snorted. “I’d rather get shot. No, thank you.”
“No.” I told her. Those beautiful blue eyes moved back to my face again. “You can marry me, and you can give me an heir.” Her eyes widened at my words, and my brother swung shocked eyes to me. Let me tell you – it took a lot to shock my brother. I ignored his incredulous look and kept my gaze focused on Sasha. “By marrying me and by granting me an heir, the entire Bianchi family will protect you – no matter the cost.”
“Are you fucking serious?” She demanded, looking at me as if I’d lost my fucking mind. I only arched an eyebrow at her. I didn’t offer deals that I didn’t plan to follow through on. I was a man of my word.
She gaped at me when she realized I was serious. “You’re really fucking serious!” She exclaimed. “Listen, Mr. Bianchi -”
“Salvatore.” I corrected her.
“Listen, Salvatore,” she continued, emphasizing my name with a roll of her eyes, “I appreciate the thought and all, but I’m not tying myself into a marriage and having a baby to gain protection. I can protect myself.” She told me.
Every part of me disagreed with her decision – for multiple reasons. One, I wanted her in every damn way I could have her – wanted her from the very moment she stepped inside of my office. Two, she needed protection, and it didn’t settle right in my gut that she was turning it down. She would only get herself killed.
However, I only shrugged at her. “Your choice.” I told her, though I hated that it was. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
With that, I strode out of the alley.
✣ ✣ ✣
S A S H A
I jerked awake to someone yanking my hair to drag me down to the floor. A pain filled screech left my lips right before a fist connected with my cheek, sending me sprawling across the floor as my jaw snapped shut.
“Pops wanted me to send you a message, Little Sis.” Robert sneered down at me as he gripped my throat and lifted me up. He sent another crushing blow to my face. I didn’t make a sound – had very quickly learned not to as I was growing up. It hurt badly – blood was trickling down my face and neck – but I didn’t dare make a sound.
“Trust me when I say he plans to do so much worse to you by the time he gets his hands on you.” Robert snarled into my face.
“Tell him I said good fucking luck.” I snarled right before I spit blood into his face, making him lose his grip on me.
I threw my leg up, kicking him in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards on the floor. My body landed in a heap on the wood floor, but I quickly got up and rushed out of the room, running as fast as my legs would carry me. “Fucking hell, you goddamn brat, bring your ass back here!” Robert roared after me.
I pushed through the doors out onto the street. It was barely daylight. I was still in the sweatpants and old t-shirt that I had slept in. I didn’t even have shoes or socks on my feet, but I didn’t care.
I ran for all I was worth down the sidewalk.
I had to survive.
I could hear Robert running after me, but I didn’t care. I pushed forward all while my lungs burned, crying for oxygen.
I crashed into someone, and luckily, they grabbed my upper arms, steadying both of us before we toppled to the concrete sidewalk. “Fanculo, Sasha?” I heard Vincent ask.
“Sasha!” Robert roared from behind me.
Vincent quickly looked over my head, another Italian curse leaving his lips before he turned and shoved me through the doors of an apartment building, coming in after me. “Stairs.” He demanded as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward.
I followed him up four flights of stairs before we came out into a hallway. He strode down to the second door and unlocked it, shoving me inside. “You’re bl
eeding.” He calmly stated, his breathing barely changed even though we had just run up a god-awful number of stairs.
My lungs felt like they were going to collapse.
I finally realized that Vincent was wearing a pair of jogging pants and a pair of Nikes, with a muscle tee thrown on. He had obviously been out running and was used to regular, physical exercise.
Me? Not so much.
I shrugged at him about the bleeding. He gave a small shake of his head as he strode out of the room, pulling his phone from his pocket. He eventually came back into the room a couple of minutes later holding a first aid kit in his hand. “Salvatore is on his way.” He informed me. I grunted in aggravation. Vincent laughed softly before he gestured to the couch. “Take a seat so I can look at your face.” He ordered.
Reluctantly, I sat down on his plush leather couch. He sat down next to me, and using an alcohol wipe, he wiped away the blood. I gritted my teeth against the stinging sensation the alcohol left behind, but I didn’t make a sound of pain. “You need stitches.” He informed me.
I shook my head at him. “It’ll heal.” I grumbled, not too keen on a needle being around any part of my body.
He shot me a dark look, but I only calmly met his gaze, not in the least bit intimidated by him. “Either I stitch it, or you can wait for Salvatore to get here and he take you to the emergency room.” I scowled. “One way or the other, but either way, you’re getting stitched. You won’t even have to get them removed.” He assured me. “They’ll dissolve.”
“Fine.” I snapped, even less keen on going to the emergency room. “But you better make it quick and painless.” I told him.
He nodded. The door to his apartment suddenly opened, and Salvatore strode in with an older man with grey hair that looked like him, and two other men in suits with shades on who I assumed to be some kind of bodyguards.
Instantly, Salvatore strode over to where I was sitting, his eyes running over my face. “How did this happen?” He demanded as Vincent pricked my skin with the needle.
I clenched my fists in my lap, imagining the pain contained in my small fists. “Robert came to deliver Pops’s message.” I told him.
“Why don’t you just go back home, girl?” The older man asked me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’ve got a fucking name.” I retorted.
The older man’s eyes flared with rage, and Salvatore shot me a dark look. I only arched an eyebrow at him in return. “Do you know who I am, young lady?” The older man asked me. At my blank stare, he continued. “I’m Jesup Bianchi, the Italian Mafia don.” He informed me.
“Is that supposed to gain you some kind of fucking respect?” I snapped at him, not giving a fuck who he was. I was very aware of who the Italian Mafia was, and I knew how dangerous they were.
I just couldn’t ever bring myself to care.
“You sure this is the kind of woman you’d want as your wife, Salvatore?” He asked instead of answering me.
Salvatore smirked as he looked back at me, a dangerous gleam in his eye that I was ashamed to admit really turned me on. Now I knew why I had been weary of him at first.
Salvatore was dangerous in the worst, possible way.
“You say that as if Madre is not the exact same way.” He commented.
Jesup barked out a laugh. “Exactly why I’m asking you, figlio.”
I narrowed my eyes at Salvatore as Vincent finished stitching me up. “I’m not fucking marrying you for protection.” I snapped at him angrily. I was pretty sure that I had made this clear the night before.
“Contrary to what you believe, sweetheart, yes, you are.” Jesup said. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your slimy, old man for many years now. If you marry Salvatore, it will drive him mad with rage, and he’ll finally come out of hiding.”
“So, I’m just some fucking pawn?” I snarled, disgust coating my words.
Salvatore took a seat next to me and rested a hand on my knee, squeezing gently. My heart rate skyrocketed at his touch.
“Piccolo, marriage to me will be a luxury.” He assured me. I felt desire curl low in my belly at the sound of him using his native language, his accent more prominent than ever as he did so. “You will never want or need for anything.”
“Except love.” I retorted, not letting the affect of his words deter me at all. “I will not marry someone out of convenience.”
“Too bad.” Jesup snapped at me, losing his patience with the entire situation. I glared at him. “You don’t have a choice.”
I clenched my jaw as I stood up, rage coursing through my veins. “I’d rather get shot.” I spit at him, meaning every word.
“That can be arranged.” Jesup snapped back at me as his hand moved towards his weapon. I only met his gaze, not an ounce of fear in mine. The only man I would ever fear was the one who brought me into this world.
“No!” Salvatore shouted as he jumped up from the couch and protectively placed his body in front of mine. Vincent lit a cigar, watching the scene in front of him with amusement. “No one will be shooting anyone.” Salvatore barked. He turned to look down at me. I only glared defiantly up at him. “Piccolo, I know you don’t want to do this, but it is too late. I’ve already forged your signature on a marriage certificate.”
"What?!" I shouted.
“Welcome to the family, Mrs. Bianchi.” Jesup sarcastically stated.
“How dare you?!” I screamed at Salvatore as I slapped him, my chest heaving up and down with rage as tears built in my eyes.
Once again, my life was being decided for me. I would never truly be a free woman.
"Amore, just come back with me to my place, and I’ll explain everything to you. Prometto che lo faro.” He stated, using his native tongue at the end. I only angrily stared up at him, waiting on him to clarify what the fuck he had just said to me. He cursed. “Fuck, I keep forgetting that you don’t understand what I’m saying.” He muttered. “I promise I will explain everything to you.” He clarified.
“Oh, it better be a damn good explanation.” I snapped at him, refusing to let the tears fall from my eyes.
He nodded, holding his hand out to me. “Shall we, mia moglie?”
Slowly, I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me out of the apartment with a soft thank you towards his brother for protecting me from my brother. He only gave me a small smile before he turned to face his father.
What had my life really become?
T H R E E
I slowly followed Salvatore into his penthouse apartment. To my left were stairs that led to an upper floor. The kitchen was just past the stairs, and a bar separated the kitchen from the dining room. In front of me was a massive, open living room that led to sliding glass doors that gave a beautiful view of the city below us. I could see a balcony past the sliding doors. Off to my right was a hallway that I assumed led to a couple of bedrooms and possibly a bathroom.
The place was massive to put it lightly.
“Welcome home, piccolo.” Salvatore said softly.
I turned my head to look at him. He was watching me with cautious, guarded eyes, obviously expecting me to explode at any moment. I just sighed. It was time for me to adjust to what was now my new life since I was being forced into it. “So, can you explain how forcing me to marry you against my will is supposed to protect me?” I demanded as I crossed my arms over my chest.
Salvatore began to unfasten his suit jacket, and he slung it over the couch before he strode towards the kitchen. “You’ve heard of the Italian mafia, have you not?” He asked me.
“I’m a Reids.” I told him in a deadpan tone. “Of course, I’ve heard of the Italian mafia.”
Salvatore nodded. “Good, then you understand, amore, that if your famiglia were to even think about coming anywhere near you, they would start a war that they cannot win.” He told me as he grabbed a glass and began filling it with orange juice.
He arched an eyebrow at me, holding the glass out to me. With a nod in thanks, I ac
cepted it, taking a sip. “Do you really think Pops is going to stop trying to kill me even though I’m married to you?” I asked him incredulously. I snorted. “You have to be absolutely stupid if you think that.”
Salvatore smirked at me, a gleam sparking in his eyes that admittedly turned me on. He was so sure of himself – so sure of his ability to protect me from those that wanted to harm me. Honestly, it was hot, and it felt nice to have someone look after me besides just myself. “That’s what we’re hoping for, tesoro. Padre has been waiting many years for a moment to ruin the Reids. You are our perfect ticket to get what we want, amore.”
He was really going to have to stop speaking to me in Italian if he wanted me to continue focusing on this conversation. His accent combined with the Italian pet names were turning me on each time he spoke, and I was quickly losing focus on what we were discussing.
I blew out a harsh breath and turned on my heel, striding out of the kitchen towards the glass doors that led out onto the patio. I needed to calm my raging hormones, but I knew that was a hopeless thought because though he was silent, I knew he was following behind me. I could practically feel him.
“What about work?” I asked him as I gazed out at the beautiful city before me. “Am I still acting as your personal assistant?” I asked him.
“Of course, mia bella.” Salvatore murmured. A shiver ran down my spine at the sound of him calling me his beauty. As much as I hated to admit it, I never wanted to hear him call me anything else. “You are much more competent than any other assistant I’ve had work for me. Of course, when you’re ready to try for a bambino, you will give up your position. I will not have you work while you are pregnant, mia bella.”
My heart seemed to stutter in my chest at his words, but not at the baby part. No, definitely not at that because I wasn’t capable of having children.
My heart stuttered at the thought of having sex with Salvatore.
“Pops will be absolutely furious.” I admitted softly, my body hyper aware of the fact that Salvatore was moving closer to me.