He hums. “It’s a thriller series. I was on a job and there was a lot of sitting and waiting, so I found the first book and just started going from there. It’s the only series that’s ever held my attention.”
“I love to read,” I say.
He chuckles. “Then you’ll have a library, cuoricino.”
Shaking my head, I reach for his hand and squeeze. “I didn’t mean that I wanted that. I was just telling you what I enjoy,” I say in protest.
His eyes, they finally sparkle again and a wave of relief washes over me at the sight. “I realize this, but you’ll still have one.”
“Why?” I ask.
He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek, his thumb gliding along my bottom lip. “Simply because you are mine, cuoricino. You are my woman now. You’ll have whatever you desire.”
His words. They’re lovely and beautiful, but I don’t want things. I tell him as much and his smile doesn’t fade, not even a bit. He clears his throat, leaning forward, his lips touch mine in a soft brush of a kiss.
“Yes, I know that you don’t, which is why you will have everything that you desire, because you do not want it. You do not demand it. You simply will just have it.”
“You’re crazy,” I exhale against his lips. He hums, his tongue sneaking out to taste my bottom lip.
“Yes. I suppose that I am, cuoricino. Now rest. The next few weeks will no doubt be hectic, yeah?”
He pulls his head away from mine, his hand falling from my face before he faces forward and opens his book again. I nod, then lean over and rest my head against his shoulder. He allows it, one of his arms extending and his fingers gripping my thigh.
Closing my eyes, I can’t help but dream a little of what’s to come. Of my future and all of the beautiful things that we will have together. Being hopeful and excited feels so much better than being stressed out and nervous.
For now, I choose to be excited for this adventure. Who knows what I’ll be in a few hours, but I’m going to hold on to this feeling for as long as I possibly can.
RENZO
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck me.
Fuck.
Orin Murphy, Sr. was a wealth of information, after I tortured him half to death of course. He was begging for me to end his life, but I wouldn’t, not without knowing what had happened to Emilyn ten years ago.
Files.
He had files and files of information on the girls and young women he’d kidnapped. I didn’t anticipate it, but the man had every detail down to if they were alive, dead, who they were traded to, even after they left his personal stash.
I won’t call what he has a brothel or a stable, because that’s not what it is, it’s his stash of women, of kidnapped and abused women.
What he told me, then later what I found in his filing cabinet on Emilyn Doyle made me physically ill. Still does. I have to tell Siobahn, too. I promised that I would try to find her and fuck me, have I found her.
I’ve not only found her. I’ve fucked her before. I’ve been inside of the sister of the woman I’ve claimed.
Goddammit.
Fuck me.
As she sleeps against my shoulder, how do I begin to tell her that I’ve fucked her sister? How do I tell her that my people, my famiglia, traded for her sister? How do I begin to explain my life to her, their life, and not make it sound fucking sick?
How?
I try to read my book, but every time I read a sentence or two, my mind begins to drift back to the situation at hand. I’m not sure what to do at this point. I’m completely fucking lost. If I tell her, there is no way that she’ll accept it and stay with me. If I don’t and she finds out, she’ll fucking bolt.
Unless.
Flicking my gaze down to her stomach, I wonder if I could wait just a little while. If we marry quickly and she’s pregnant, she can’t leave me. At least, not as easily. She still could try, but there would be nowhere she could go that the famiglia couldn’t find her.
With my baby inside of her, with my ring on her finger, she’s claimed and part of the famiglia and we never allow someone to simply walk away. Not ever. She will be no different, no matter how much she is going to hate me.
And she will.
She will despise me.
Doesn’t matter much, because no matter how much she is disgusted by me, she’ll still be mine. I’ll end my days beside her. No matter fucking what. Because Siobahn Doyle was meant for me.
I don’t sleep at all, not the entire flight. When the plane begins to descend, my stomach twists with thoughts of what’s to come. I don’t know when I’m going to tell her, but I will have to tell her and she will be angry.
Secrets kill, they destroy from the inside out. Rotting and causing a body to decay, doing the same to whatever semblance of trust two people had, if we had any at all. I’m not sure. If the trust grows, it will be gone the moment she discovers the truth.
“Siobahn,” I rasp. “It’s time to wake up, we’re here.”
Her eyelids flutter open and she looks up at me, her smile appearing almost immediately. I hate that she still carries the marks her father left on her face. She’s so beautiful, but seeing those bruises makes the rage bubble inside of me yet again, and it makes me want to kill him all over again.
“We’re here,” she breathes, then without skipping a beat, she sits straight up and twists her body to look out of the window. “The buildings are huge,” she whispers.
Chuckling, I don’t tell her that I live across the bridge from those big buildings and not extremely close to them. If she wants to go into the city every day, I’ll take her. For whatever reason, perhaps more guilt than anything else, I will do just about anything for her right now.
“It’s beautiful, Renzo,” she exhales before she turns to look over at me.
Her lips are trembling in their plastered smile. Shaking my head once, I wonder if I can keep this a secret from her for the rest of our lives. Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek and slide my thumb across the apple, careful to be gentle because of her healing bruises.
“Welcome home, cuoricino,” I murmur.
She leans into my palm, closing her eyes with a sigh. “I can’t wait for this adventure.”
I almost laugh, but I hold it in. It would be a humorless laugh and just confuse her. Instead, I dip my chin and touch my mouth to hers as the plane begins to travel down the tarmac. Dropping my hand, I face forward as the plane lands roughly.
Home.
This is either going to be a fucking disaster, or the best decision that I’ve ever made. Considering the information that I’ve just discovered, I’m leaning toward fucking disaster.
Chapter Twenty-Three
RENZO
I’m not surprised to see a car waiting for us on the tarmac. However, I am surprised to see that Gavino is standing next to the waiting car. There is another figure at the back of the car and I assume that it’s Paul, Gavino’s driver.
“My boss,” I explain, jerking my chin toward Gavino and the car.
“I’m not—I’m not in a position to meet him,” she whispers as she runs her fingers over her face, specifically where her bruising is the heaviest.
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug it gently away from her face. “He knows what happened. He doesn’t expect you to look like anyone other than yourself,” I explain.
Her eyes fill with unshed tears and I watch as she blinks them away. She clears her throat, then nods as she squares her shoulders bravely. False bravado works in this case. She’s going to need it facing Gavino.
Together we walk out of the plane, down the small staircase, and head toward the waiting car. Paul jerks his chin as he jogs past me to collect the baggage. Lifting my hand, I give him my small thanks with a wave.
“Gavino, this is Siobahn,” I introduce as soon as we are close enough for him to hear me.
Placing my hand at the small of her back, I apply a bit of pressure to hopefully give her the reassu
rance that I have no doubt she needs.
Gavino smirks, dipping his chin as he looks down at her. “Fuck, I had zero clue how to pronounce your name, bella.”
Siobahn smiles up at him and shakes her head once. “It’s not common here?”
Gavino grins. “No, it’s not. Shi-vawn is definitely not spelled that way.” He steps to the side, holding out his hand to the back door. “Ready?” he asks.
Siobahn looks from him, then turns her head to look back at me. “Ready,” she breathes. The way she says it, she doesn’t mean just to get in the car, no, she means so much more.
Gavino gives her a wink and opens the door for her. “Just a minute, cuoricino,” I murmur. She looks over to me and shoots me a small smile with a slight nod.
Closing the door, I jerk my chin away from the car in a silent question for Vino to follow me and step away from the car. Paul gives us a wave in a signal that he’s ready. I can’t leave, not yet, not until I tell Gavino exactly what I’ve discovered.
“You said you had something for me?”
Nodding my head once, I cross my arms over my chest. “The files are being sent through the post, we’ll have them soon. There were too many to attempt to carry.”
“Good God, there were that many?”
“He tracked everything, Vino. Sales, trades, barters, and eventual deaths, not just on his personal girls, but on every single one that he took.”
“What a fucking tool,” he growls.
“Gets worse.”
He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches me and waits for what I’m about to say next. He won’t be prepared for it, not in the slightest. Though it may not mean as much to him as it does to me, but it’s still vital that he knows.
“Siobahn’s sister is one of your girls.”
“How? Wasn’t she taken ten years ago?” he demands.
I snort. Fate or karma, whatever you want to call it, has played a cruel fucking joke on me. But I’m sure that I deserve it, deserve it all. I’m no innocent. I’ve killed so many people in my life, hurt many more, and this is just my fucking payback for it all.
“She was. I looked at her file. Orin, Sr. kept her in his home. From the time she was ten until she was eighteen. Then he transferred her to his own stash to use as he saw fit, when the opportunity arose to send her off, he chose to send her here.”
“Fuck.”
“It gets better.” I chuckle humorlessly.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
Nodding my head, I shrug a shoulder. “I’ve fucked her, multiple times. I’ve been inside of my woman’s sister.”
Gavino lifts his hand and runs his fingers through her hair. “I’ll set up a meet.”
“And what?” I demand.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Whatever you want, Renzo. You’re the Made Man, that woman in the car is yours. You want the sister gone, I’ll send her away. Whatever you want, cugino.”
“If I send her away, that’s something that Siobahn will never forgive.”
“She’s going to forgive you fucking her sex-trafficked sister?” he asks.
Frowning, I tilt my head to the side. “Luciana forgive you for fucking Bellarosa?” I ask.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Luciana was raised in the life. She knows what is expected not only of her, but of her station. Bella left and I didn’t drag her ass back like I had the right to. That is what I did for my Ciana.”
“I’m going to let her get settled, then…” My words trail off, because I don’t know when I’m going to tell her a fucking thing. I don’t want to, but I also know the longer that I wait, the worse it’s all going to be.
“The meet will be in the morning. Ten, down at the club. Mia will bring her.”
Nodding my head, I clear my throat. “Yeah,” I rasp.
“It’s going to be okay, Renzo. You didn’t wait this fucking long for your woman to have it not be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
I don’t believe him. I don’t deserve for things to be okay. I don’t deserve much, in all honesty. I allowed my father to get away with the murder of my mother. I allowed a lot, including him turning me into a killer, an emotionless killer.
SIOBAHN
I’m experiencing another mood of Renzo’s. I don’t know what was said at their little tarmac meeting, but Renzo climbs into the back seat next to me and he’s different. Distant. Cold. It hurts, but I try to shake it off as the car begins to drive forward.
The ride is silent for a few moments, then Gavino, Renzo’s boss, turns around slightly and looks back at me. He smiles kindly, his blue eyes almost sparkling as he watches me for a moment.
“I only know a bit about you, Siobahn. Tell me, what are your plans now that you’re here in the states?”
Clasping my hands together in my lap, I begin to wring them as I think about the conversation that Renzo and I have had a few times, and the ideas that I dreamed to pin on Pinterest those hours I was all alone in the hotel.
“I would like to have a salon, maybe. In Ireland, I’m a hairstylist,” I say, my voice small and almost weak sounding.
Gavino grins. “That would be lucrative. I like it. Maybe she can be by Massimo’s lingerie store?” His gaze shifts from me to Renzo with a wink.
“Lingerie store?” I ask.
Renzo reaches out, placing his warm palm on top of my hands. “My co-worker, Massimo, his wife owns a lingerie shop. It’s high-end, very expensive. All the wives shop there,” he explains with a shrug.
High-end. The words cause a pang of guilt to slice right through me. Renzo is offering me so much and I have nothing to give him in return, not really. I give him myself, but I would do that no matter what. I can’t let him spend money on me, on my shop, not like that.
“Maybe I should just get a job at a salon, rent a chair?” I ask on a whisper.
Gavino snorts at the same time Renzo squeezes my fingers. “Our women don’t rent chairs, Siobahn. They run the fucking world and so will you.”
“They do?” I ask.
He chuckles. “They really fucking do.”
Without another word, he turns around, facing forward and doesn’t elaborate. I need the elaboration. Shifting my gaze over to Renzo, I tilt my head back and look up at him. He grins down at me, then dips his chin and touches his mouth to mine.
“Tell me,” I whisper.
He chuckles. “Luciana helps in many ways with Gavino’s business. One of the women runs a card room, another runs a BDSM club, Chloe does whatever the hell she does, something in an office, then there’s Pippa,” he says and when he speaks her name.
That’s when I see it.
His eyes sparkle. They light up and his smile, it takes over his entire face. I can see it beneath his beard, I can see the way his white teeth appear and the way his eyes completely transform. This is who he was talking to on the phone, this is who makes him smile, Pippa.
“What about her, Pippa?” I ask, trying to hide the jealousy that flows through my veins.
“She just runs things, cuoricino.”
Runs things. Runs. Things.
Gavino clears his throat from the front seat. “She’s Arlo’s personal assistant down at the card room. She’s not his wife though, she’s married to Massimo.”
“There’s a lot of people’s names that I’m not going to remember a thing about,” I admit.
Gavino snorts. “Oh, you will. The first time you meet them all, you’ll never be able to forget them. You get settled and we’ll have dinner, yeah?”
Nodding my head, I try to shake the feeling that this Pippa and Renzo are more than just friends. That there isn’t something more happening there, because there is no hiding his reaction when her name is simply just spoken.
I don’t want to be some jealous woman. I need to trust him, to trust that he wouldn’t bring me here just to betray me, especially when I told him that cheating was my hard limit, my deal breaker.
He wouldn’t do any of that… right?
&n
bsp; Right?
I wish that I could answer my own question. I wish that I knew exactly without a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt me that way. But I don’t know. I don’t know anything and just seeing the way he looked as he talked about her, that small thing, it has me questioning everything—again.
I am so tired. So damn tired of questioning every little thing. I jumped. I did all of this to myself. I jumped into this with him. I let him talk me into moving to another country. I allowed myself to just go with it out of fear, self-preservation, excitement, I don’t know.
But I shouldn’t have done it and I’m instantly filled with regret—again.
Renzo releases my hand, then slides his arm across my shoulders, tugging me closer to his side. His lips touch the top of my head and he inhales a deep breath.
“You’ll love them all, cuoricino. They’re going to be your new family. They’re loud, they can be in your face, but no matter what you need, all of them would drop everything to help you. To be there for you. It’s just who they are.”
Turning my head slightly, I smile up at him. It’s fake. I’m sure he knows that it is, but I don’t care. I need to process this, and I’m trying to reserve judgment until I meet this woman, this Pippa.
There is something between them, but I don’t want to be too upset, I don’t want to make myself even more upset than I already am before I meet her, until I know what it is exactly.
After I meet her, then I’ll reanalyze the situation and my situation. Because no way am I going to be stuck here in another country with a man who can’t keep his dick in his pants.
Chapter Twenty-Four
RENZO
I chalk it up to nerves and jetlag. At least that’s what I tell myself when Siobahn grows distant on our way to my condo. Once we arrive, I quickly open the car door and inhale a deep breath as I look around.
Home.
I wasn’t gone that long, but it was long e-fucking-nough. Helping Siobahn out of the back seat, I watch as Paul unloads our bags, once I’ve thanked him, I turn to Gavino who has his window rolled down.
Becoming the Hitman (Zanetti Famiglia Book 5) Page 16