by Burke, Lynn
I loved her, and she needed to know my thoughts toward her even if she didn’t return them.
“Don’t you every bully yourself—don’t you ever repeat the bullshit your father fed you your whole life,” I stated forcefully. “You have value. Worth beyond any woman I’ve ever met.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but I wasn’t done yet.
“You’re fucking perfect in every way,” I said, easing my tone and the furrow between my eyebrows. “Perfect for me, and I want you just the way you are, Giada Burtonelli. You. Measure. Up.”
She swallowed as a tear slid free.
“You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of, everything I could hope for in a woman. I’m never letting you go—and I mean that with my whole damn heart. I love you.”
Laughter escaped on a sob, her smile wobbling as she touched a fingertip to my lower lip. “Say that again.”
“I love you—so damn much I—”
Giada kissed me. Wiped every damn thought from my head with her softness, her sweet taste.
Groaning, I rolled her beneath me, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, but held my face in her hands, pushing my head back enough to peer into my eyes.
My dick jolted against the warmth of her pussy, and I moved my hips slightly, smearing my head in the slickness growing there. She still hadn’t responded, but she wanted me, there was no fucking doubt about it—”
“I love you, too.”
Well, fuck.
She dug her heels into my ass, pulling me closer, and I sank into her wet heat while holding her stare. Every damn wall, every shield crumbled between us, leaving us both raw and open.
“So much, Logan,” she whispered. “So fucking much.”
I took her mouth and showed her just how much I agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Giada
I didn’t see Aline or Dianna again before leaving Vegas, but Klingon assured me they were being taken care of. Even though he was one big ass mother fucker, I trusted the sincerity in his eyes. He and his men had put their lives at stake coming for me—I doubted he would shed those women’s blood to cover the Vipers’ asses.
Sure, there had to be a mess to clean up at the house we’d been held captive in, but I had a mess of my own to take care of.
We arrived back in Boston, and even though Logan wanted to go straight to his house, I asked him to take me to my parents first. He wasn’t happy—far from it—but agreed to sit in his truck while I went inside.
Having been buzzed in the front gate, Father’s driver and head of security met me in the foyer.
“They’re in his office,” he told me, deadpan, but his eyes betrayed his unrest.
He’d seen and heard enough over the years to know what would go down. Nothing new under the sun on Father’s part—but it was time for the final showdown.
One last bracing breath, and I opened the office door.
Mother hopped up from the couch beneath the window to my left, but Father barked at her to sit back down. She obeyed, the poor, poor woman.
“Where have you been?” he started as I moved toward his desk, but didn’t wait for me to respond. “Do you have any idea the situation you put me in? Having to lie about your disappear—”
“Enough, already,” I snipped, coming to a halt in front of his desk rather than hang back halfway across his office like always when getting reamed out.
He paused, and I took advantage of the silence.
“I’ve only come back to tell you I’m going to live my own life. I will no longer be bullied by you—your selfish wants and desires. This is my life, and you’ve no right to dictate how I behave and who I choose to allow inside my head and heart.”
“You will come to heel like the little bitch you are, or so help me God—”
True laughter bubbled up and out of me, cutting him off.
He stared for a heartbeat as though registering what I’d just done. “There is nothing funny about this situation!” Spittle flew from his lips with every word.
“Your threats are meaningless, Nicolo,” I told him, having already decided where he belonged in my life—out of it.
Mother gasped at my use of his first name, the first time I’d ever done so.
“You even try to touch me,” I continued as he gaped, “and Logan will hand you your ass without hesitation.”
“You think I’m afraid of a bunch of lawless bikers?” Nicolo straightened, righting his tie. “Loser gang members—I could take them down with a flick of my finger.”
“I’d like to see you try.” My chin lifted and my smirk remained after having seen what those boys were capable of. “If you value your life, don’t cross the Vipers. They won’t warn you with death threats—they’ll just put you six feet under.”
“Giada...”
I glanced at Mother. “Logan Stone is my rock, my home. He loves me unconditionally—as is. I’ve never felt that—”
“You choose him,” Nicolo cut me off, “and you’re dead to this family.”
I met his penetrating glare head on, without faltering, the truth in my heart more freeing than any rebellious action I’d taken in the past just to piss him off.
“I’ll choose him for the rest of my life. He’s mine and I’m his. I’m one of the Vipers’ family, now—and it’s the best damn decision I’ve ever made.”
I turned my back on the man who fathered me, a sense of freedom swelling inside me.
“You walk out that door, and you’ll never step foot back inside this house!”
I paused to look once more at Mother. “You always chose him over us,” I reminded her although it pained me to do so. “What has it gained you in this life?”
She stared, her lips parted—and I strode out without another word.
My heart slammed in my chest as my boots clacked on the marble floor of the foyer. Stark silence lingered in the background.
For once, Nicolo Burtonelli had been left speechless.
Hysterical laughter burst from me as soon as I slammed Logan’s truck door behind me, enclosing me in warmth from the cold day—and the chill my childhood home had seeped through my bones.
He drove out of the driveway while I had my off the wall meltdown. Once my laughter settled, he grabbed my hand and held it tight atop his hard thigh.
“You okay, baby?”
“Never been better.” I beamed across the cab at him, and dark lust filled his eyes.
“Christ, your smile takes my breath away.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” I told him, knowing right where his thoughts went to. “We’ve got one more stop.”
He nodded, a soft smile pulling up his lips as he turned back toward the road. “I’m proud of you, Giada.”
Simple words, ones I’d never heard from either parent, stole my breath. “I don’t deserve you.”
“The fuck you don’t.” His tone didn’t allow for argument—so I kept my lips sealed and soaked in the love and acceptance he freely offered, the sense of belonging I’d been missing, the one thing I’d craved my entire life.
****
The entire left side of Marisa’s face hid behind gauze, but one good eye met my gaze as I slipped into her room. Mother had texted me in Vegas that the doctors had stopped the sedation meds and she’d finally woken up.
“Hey,” I said, moving closer.
The corner of her lips twitched. “Hey,” she rasped a whisper.
I settled into the chair beside her and eyed the snowy-white bandages wrapped around her head. “How are you feeling?”
“Actually not that bad.”
“That’s the morphine talking.”
Her lips twitched again. “Probably.”
“So I wanted to stop by not just to see how you’re doing, but to warn you about the shit storm you’ll likely experience later today.”
“Now what did you do?” Wariness filled her one good eye, but I didn’t take it personally—no hint of anger or annoyance laced her tone.
“
Basically told our father to fuck off.”
“You didn’t!” she breathed, her eye widening
“Yep. He threatened to disown me—and I walked out. All done.” I wiped my hands on each other back and forth, as though washing them clean of Nicolo Burtonelli.
Marisa stared up at me. “Damn, I wish I had your balls.”
I blinked, my hands falling to my lap. “What?”
“Do you have any idea how much I wish I had your backbone, Giada?”
Her words baffled me—I fucking stared, speechless. Miss goody-two-shoes, the obedient golden child was … jealous of me?
“You’ve always stood up to him. Chose your own path. God.” She shifted and winced, her eye shutting. “How I’ve envied you...”
I found my thoughts, my voice. “Are you serious right now?”
“More than anything,” she whispered, peering up at me once more. “I always wanted to be like you—longed to have your spirit, your tenacity.”
“And I’ve always wanted the love and acceptance you got from Father.”
She huffed a snorted laugh. “Praise out the ass—but it isn’t love, Giada. It’s his own satisfaction over my conforming to his selfish wants to make him look good.”
Holy shit.
Once more, Marisa rendered me speechless. Father didn’t love her any more than me—his love didn’t expand to those outside himself. Not even Mother.
Fucking duh.
“When you get out of here,” I told her, “you make choices for you. Do what you want, you hear me? Choose the path you’ve always wanted. Forget about Peter Reynolds and find yourself some young stud who’ll rock your world off its axis.”
“Peter does do that for me,” she whispered.
My mouth went guppy-mode. “Get. Out.”
Marisa managed a shrug of sorts, her lips twitching again. “I love him.”
“Well, holy fucking shit.” I barked a laugh. “Okay, then. If he’s it for you, who am I to judge?” My smile faded as thoughts of his relationship with our father flitted through my brain. “Does he treat you well?”
“He’s no narcistic asshole if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Does he love you?”
“Yes.” Soft emotion filled her eye, welling it with wetness.
When I climbed into Logan’s truck fifteen minutes later, I still laughed, and it was some time before I calmed enough to explain the one-eighty the relationship with my sister had taken.
Freedom from the Burtonelli name, freedom from the shroud draped over the connection I’d once had with my only living sibling.
Freedom to love.
Freedom to live.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Stone
One month later...
Giada stood with Shaun and two other old ladies at the club’s bar while my brothers and I discussed business. The lush ass wrapped up in tight as fuck jeans distracted me. It’d been over ten hours since I’d been balls deep inside my woman—too damn long. Those cheeks fit in my hands perfectly—my dick between them even better.
Giada was one hell of an addiction. My thirst for her refused to be slaked. The taste of her … the scent of her, goddamn—
“Stone!”
I jerked my head toward Vigil across the table from me. His eyes glinted as the other Viper brothers at the table chuckled.
“Yeah?”
“Get your head outta your ass,” Vigil said with a laugh.
“Her ass,” Ryker corrected him with a grin—must be two sheets to the wind for him to smile like that.
“Fuck off, both of you,” I grumbled and took a swig of my beer. “You’re just jealous.”
“Fucking right,” Ryker slurred, pouring another shot into his glass from the half-full bottle of whiskey in front of him.
“So, as I was saying,” Vigil said, drawing my attention from wandering toward Giada again, “Devil’s picked up rumors there’s a new Martínez cartel leader.”
More than one curse rose from the men at the table.
“Don’t know what you all are grumbling about,” Ricky said with an annoyed huff while eyeing his double shot of whiskey fisted in his hand. “I told you if we took him out, the next in line would slide into place without a goddamn hitch.”
“Thanks for that reminder, Mr. Know-it-all,” Vigil ribbed his younger brother with a good punch to the shoulder, shifting him on his chair and sloshing his drink.
Ricky growled at him—literally—bearing teeth and all while righting himself. Not the first time I’d seen the brothers act like a couple of rabid dogs.
“Any idea who?” Warden asked, sitting back and placing his hands on his thighs—probably readying to hop up should Vigil and Ricky decide to take things further, which they were known to do when a pissing match got instigated between the two.
“No names.” Devil slouched onto the table, a sweating beer bottle in hand, when neither brother made a move to start a bare knuckles fight that would end up ensnaring half the club in a free for all just for shits and giggles. “Not yet, anyway.”
“They’re gonna retaliate, too,” Ricky reminded us of the second thing he’d told us over a month ago.
“There’s nothing brewing that I’ve seen,” Devil said. “Not even a whisper of rumor it’s the Vipers who did in Arturo and that Russian skin-selling prick buddy of his.”
“Nothing?” Vigil asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Nope.” Devil slugged down his beer.
“Klingon has more contacts than God,” Ryker said, slamming down his empty shot glass and reaching for the bottle. “Coast to coast—he’s got everyone in his back pocket. Squeaky clean smart mother fucker—always has been.”
“Let’s hope his cleaning crew did the job we paid him for,” Vigil said with a grunt.
“So far, so good,” Warden piped up.
I caught sight of Giada and Shaun sauntering toward us in my periphery, and I pushed back from the table, patting my lap, my mind and eyes fully distracted once more.
She set her fine ass on my thigh and draped her arms around my neck. “Hey.”
I stared at her red-stained lips, plump as fucking cherries—delicious as the fruit, too. “Hey.”
Her tongue flicked out over her lower lip, and I bit back my groan. Ten hours too fucking long.
“We left one hell of a mess,” Ryker slurred, drawing my focus off Giada’s face. “The bodies in Stone’s wake...”
“Yeah, we’ve heard the story a million times,” I said, shaking my head. Even though I didn’t regret my actions, I didn’t care to be reminded of how close to losing my mind I’d been—desperate as fuck to get my woman back.
“You should have fucking seen it,” Ryker continued as though I hadn’t spoken, lifting his glass and moving it sideways as though laying out the scene. “Running through those fuckers like a goddamn freight train. Ruthless. Fucking deadly.” He slammed back his shot. “Just like your father’s Bourne men, little girl,” he said to Shaun. “It was a goddamn masterpiece. Boy made me proud.”
“So you’ve said.” She pursed her lips around a smile and shifted to straddle Warden’s lap. “Thanks, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder at me.
“For?”
“The kidney stab in my name.”
“My pleasure.” I meant it, too. “Fucker deserved to die for all he’s done to this club—and if the next head rises up against us, he’ll go down, too.”
“Hear, hear!” Ryker raised his glass, his face flushed and eyes glazed.
“Calm your britches, boys,” Vigil said, killing the mood as others chimed in with agreement. “We’re done with the cartel—staying the fuck outta their business.”
“And when they do come knocking?” his brother asked.
Vigil’s grin sent a shiver down my spine, so far from the good kind, my skin crawled. He’d been aptly named president of the Vicious Vipers—fucking brutal bastard.
“Heard Burtonelli is leading in the polls,” Devil changed the
subject before fists flew, and Giada let out a groan.
“Different convo, please,” my woman voiced with an eye roll.
“Where’s his head at, Giada?” Vigil asked, ignoring her request.
“Don’t know, don’t fucking care. Haven’t spoken to him or my mother since the day I left.”
“Think that sister of yours could let us in on his plans for our fallout?”
Giada eyed Vigil with her backbone of steel, unmoved by his stare. “Probably,” she finally said. “Nicolo doesn’t know the two of us keep in touch. She’s entombed at their house since getting discharged. If I asked, she might probe a bit.”
Vigil nodded. “Ask. Tell her I’ll make it worth her trouble.”
An all-out dimple smile flashed across the table. “Dangerous thing owing that sister of mine a favor.”
“Thought you said she’s a meek little lamb?”
“She’s grown some backbone of her own since being shot in the head.”
“Good for her.” Vigil slapped the table—his way of ending serious talk. “I need a whore to suck my dick!”
“God,” Giada and Shaun both fake-gagged at the same time.
Vigil had no issue with their laughter and stood, adjusting his bulge right in front of Warden’s and my old lady. “Someday a pretty little thing like you two will appreciate this cock as much as you do theirs.” He cupped himself—and strode away in search of a wet mouth.
“Fucker,” Ricky muttered, glaring after his brother.
Ryker just studied his untouched whiskey.
Warden whispered in Shaun’s ear, and her face flushed. She hopped up off his lap quick as fuck. “See you all later!” she called with a smile, pulling Warden away as he stood.
“Time to head out?” I asked Giada, tugging on one of the long ringlets of dark hair hanging down over her breasts.
“Hell, yes.”
“Lucky mother fuckers!” Ryker said as I stood, and I shook my head, not sure why the fuck he’d gotten drunk. The man could hold his whiskey—but not that night.
Devil muttered for him to shut the fuck up and Ricky finally slammed back his drink.
We strode outside, hands clasped tightly. Not even April yet, and a warm front had pushed through New England. Giada hadn’t even bothered with a coat over her long-sleeve t-shirt. I eyed the starry sky overhead and sliver of moon making its way across the expanse as we ambled toward my truck.