“Sienna, get out of the fucking way,” Dom yells from behind me, no doubt his own gun outstretched in his hand.
Fuck that! This asshole was going to rape me and then kill me. Domenico does not get to take this from me. His life is mine to take. The moment I snatched Brooklyn’s trembling body off the ground this was going to end with me taking this shit for brain’s life.
I pull the trigger. Then I pull it a second time, both rounds nailing him in the chest. A heavy silence falls upon me as I watch his eyes lose their essence, closing with a shock he never fathomed coming.
He underestimated me. Most people do.
“What did you do?” Dom stops behind me, his breath fanning the hair hanging behind my head. “Sienna.”
He turns me to face him, snatching the weapon from my palm. Without losing eye contact, he uses the material of his shirt to wipe my prints. “What had to be done,” I say, my voice even despite having just killed a man.
After he sets the weapon next to Vin’s lifeless body, Dom yanks my knife out, cleaning the blood off on Vin’s clothes. Then grabs me by the shoulder, his stare more serious than I’ve ever seen. “You do not tell anyone about this; not Dad, not Ren, not even Matteo, do you hear me? This stays between us. I’m the one that shot him, agreed?”
“That was self-defense. Why should I care who finds out I’m the one that shot that piece of shit?”
“Because I’m the one that handles this shit, Si. Because Dad doesn’t need that heartache on his chest. Because for some reason you love Matteo and I’m not so sure he could handle this type of knowledge. He gets scared, runs, and breaks your heart, then I’m going to show him just how strong he isn’t. I will end that motherfucker so fast he won’t have time to react. Don’t force my hand, Sienna.” Dom steps back, pulling air into his lungs as he continues to stare me down. “Besides, I don’t know the extent of what Vin thought he was doing or if someone else was behind this. I don’t need someone placing a bounty on your head, sister.”
I stopped listening to Dom once he mentioned Matteo. What if my brother is right and Matteo wouldn’t see this like I didn’t have any other option? He wasn’t brought up the way I was. He was sheltered from this life.
The insecure part of my subconscious rears its ugly head and I start to regret my actions. I waited too long for Matteo to finally notice me; to want me in the same all-consuming way that I’ve wanted him for as long as I can remember. I won’t do something to fuck that up, so even though part of my brain is screaming profanities at me, I agree to Domenico’s demand. “Okay.”
“Thank fucking fuck!” Grabbing me by my leather-covered forearm, he pulls me forward. “If anyone heard those gunshots, we need to be out of here before the cops show up.”
I spent a large part of my childhood and teenage years lying or withholding information about myself. The thought of doing that to Matteo again pains me in a way I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from. But if it’s the only way to keep him safe from my family’s world, to ensure him and Brooklyn aren’t tainted, then I have to do what I have to do.
Right?
Chapter 46
MATTEO
When I stepped into the ring an hour ago, I didn’t know what choice I’d make; if I was going to bow out or come out swinging. All I knew is that the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, in and out of bed, was in an unknown location with a madman holding a knife to her throat.
Then there was my daughter. The Russian prick showed up with my kid and she was scared, telling me she’d been involved in whatever had taken place with Sienna.
I was scared. I’m not so much of a son of a bitch that I can’t admit that, but I was also raging underneath my skin. Tremors had started to wreak havoc on my body I was so angry. Then my opponent looked at me, stared me in the goddamn eyes with a smirk on his face like we both knew something no one else did.
He was in on it. Maybe he didn’t know my girlfriend had been kidnapped or my daughter had been in danger without my knowledge, but he knew how this fight was supposed to end, and that pissed me the fuck off even more.
Seconds passed slowly as my body stilled, adrenaline amplifying, hitting a new high like those drag strip racing Christmas tree lights, readying the driver before takeoff. That’s exactly what happened: the bell rang, my opponent stepped forward with raised gloves, and he was on the ground with his eyes rolling into the back of his head within five seconds.
The crowd roared. They lost their fucking minds over the outcome of the fight. I knew I had set a new record, one not even I would ever succeed at again, knocking out a boxer in the shortest match in history.
I stared out of the ring and into the crowd. I walked in a slow circle, hoping that whoever demanded I go out like a coward was watching me that very second. I seethed, and I made sure the cameras above the ring saw every ounce of lethal power I possessed. I wanted to frighten the Devil himself.
Once I walked off, the media swarmed like the flies they are. I ignored their calls, the shouts to hear my first words. I continued out until I saw Tony with my daughter still wrapped around him like he was her protector. He isn’t, that’s my job. I didn’t have to pull her from his grip. He was handing her over to me before I stopped in front of him—and I only released Brooklyn long enough to change my clothes before leaving the venue.
During the car ride to Tony’s, I sat in the backseat of an SUV I’d only seen once in his driveway. Apparently, it belonged to my uncle. The same uncle that’s supposed to be behind bars.
Giovanni drove with Tony in the seat to his right and Brooklyn and me in the back. I assume Dad left in my Lexus. I didn’t see him, but he had my keys from driving earlier tonight. I couldn’t talk to him. I didn’t know what to tell him; I still don’t. Whatever is going on, I don’t want my parents involved. Hell, I don’t want them to know anything about the events of tonight. If I have to shield them by lying, then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t like it, but I don’t have to like it as long as they are safe.
“Pete can’t know I’m out, Matteo,” my uncle says to me from where he’s standing next to the fireplace in Tony’s living room, one leg propped on the brick hearth.
“Wasn’t planning on sharing the news.” Brooklyn fell asleep at some point during the drive, but I’m not ready to lay her down to rest, opting to continue holding her locked in my arms. “You get parole or something?”
“No,” falls from his lips like I’m boring him with a mundane topic.
“From what I recall, you had a life sentence.”
“Still do.”
“Yet here you are.” My eyes slide to where Tony sits at the end of the couch caddy corner from where I’m perched on a matching cream-colored plush sitting chair. When we got back to his house less than ten minutes ago, he filled a glass damn near to the rim with whiskey and has been sipping on it in silence.
As a father, I can somewhat relate to what must be going through his mind. He hasn’t heard from Dom or Ren. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I’m praying for the former.
“How is it possible you’re standing here, like a free man, if you’re supposed to be in prison?” I finally ask when he doesn’t elaborate.
“Matteo, someone is serving that sentence, it just isn’t me; hasn’t been for some time now. That’s as far as this conversation is going to go, understood, nephew?”
“My dad said once that you two used to be tight, and then one day you stopped being friends. Does this mean you’re friends again?” I eye the two men, waiting for an answer.
“Matteo,” Tony draws out, his tone a warning.
“Let the boy ask his questions, T.”
“I’m no boy, Uncle.”
One corner of his mouth curves up, a chuckle sounding out. “You’re an ignorant, sheltered boy, but that’s going to change. You see, you being here, in Tony’s home, dating his daughter, well . . . you stepped in something you can’t get out of. Whereas I allowed my brother the illusion of being out of t
he family, you don’t get that option,” Giovanni announces.
Standing, I gently place my daughter down in the chair I vacated, her small frame curling up on the oversized cushion. In this situation, I’m grateful she’s a hard sleeper.
Stepping around the square, distressed, wooden coffee table, I stride forward, only stopping when my feet are an inch from touching his. My uncle is at least half a foot shorter than I am, so this being close, my eyes cast down to look into a set of dark blue irises that match my own, but his are tainted with darkness that my dad and I don’t possess. I may be The Beast in the ring, but even I don’t house the demons lurking behind his hard stare.
“I don’t care who you think you are, but let’s clear a few things that up right now. Whatever family I choose to be part of, blood or not, is my decision and mine alone. You don’t own me. And the person that does looks a hell of a lot better than you. Not even her father owns me, and never will. Understand that, Uncle. If you don’t, I don’t really give a fuck either.” I lean in, crowding him. To my annoyance he still doesn’t budge. Instead, his storm-filled eyes hold mine, taunting me to look away first.
“Matteo, sit back down,” Tony says, his eyes remaining on the ice and liquid in his glass rather than Giovanni and me. “G, stop goading him. He’s not a trained puppy yet.”
Rolling my head in his direction, I say, “And I never will be. Sorry to disappoint.”
“You’re full of disappointment, De Salvo. Be glad you weren’t one tonight.”
Before I can respond, the chime from their alarm system sounds, signaling that a door has opened. I turn to face the entrance as Tony stands up, his chest shuddering as he inhales. Seconds pass, feeling like hours. Lorenzo is the first to appear around the corner, his eyes landing on his father’s.
“She’s . . .” he starts to say when his body is shoved forward.
“Move, dick.” The sound of her voice is not only relief to my ears, but also oxygen to my lungs. Sienna’s eyes find mine first, and the two of us speak in silence in the mere seconds our eyes are connected. I’m back. Miss me, baby? I’m pissed at you, by the way. Then her stare is gone too fast as it flips to her father’s.
Tony makes quick work of his legs, practically running to where Sienna stands. Dom rounds behind Si, stepping around them both as Tony pulls his daughter into his chest, wrapping his arms around her like I held Brooklyn moments ago.
Domenico comes to a stop behind Ren, and that’s when I take in the look on Sienna’s twin’s face. He’s not staring at me, his eyes are looking past me, at Giovanni, like he recognizes him and is just as surprised as I was earlier tonight when I saw him for the first time in my life. “Someone fail to inform me of something?” Dom snarls, his eyes holding my uncle’s.
“We’ll discuss that later,” Tony says. Pulling back only inches from his daughter, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Daddy,” she answers, forcing a smile on her lips. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m good. I swear it.” Sighing a heavy breath, Tony presses his lips to her forehead.
Ren and Dom make their way to the couch, both sitting on each end, their gaze a mirror of caution and questions. Domenico isn’t happy my uncle is present. Lorenzo is as confused as I was when I knew he was supposed to be in a cell.
Finally, Si pulls away from Tony to walk toward me, her stride increasing with every step. When she’s in reaching distance, I snatch the front of her open jacket and pull her into an embrace. Cupping the back of her neck, I tip her head back and fuse my lips with hers, not caring who the hell sees my tongue fucking hers until I’m forced to let her go so that I can take a breath.
At some point Giovanni moved from behind me to take up residence on the other couch, the one Tony was seated in before Sienna appeared, relieving the anxiety we both shared. Taking a step back, I examine every inch of Sienna that I can see. Most of her body is covered with clothing, but the skin I can see looks unmarred.
“Matteo, unless your ears are busted, I’m pretty sure you heard me tell Dad I’m fine. Stop evaluating me like you’re trying to find something that isn’t there. I’m good. Not even a scrape.” She purses her lips, daring me to challenge her. Her head turns from me as she takes in the rest of the room, her gaze stopping briefly on my uncle, her brows creasing, but I can’t tell if she’s wondering who he is or if she recognizes him the same as her brothers do.
Continuing her path, her breath is audible when her eyes land on Brooklyn. I still have questions. The only thing that Krishna told Tony was that my daughter had called Dom, and when they found her, she told them that a bad man had scared her and then Sienna told her to run, so that’s what she did.
I don’t have my phone to call my parents. I thought it was in my gym bag, but I must not have put it back in there after the call came through from Sienna’s kidnapper. When I got into Giovanni’s SUV, my black bag was sitting on the seat with everything in it except my smartphone. Right now, the whereabouts of that device doesn’t even matter. I have my daughter and I have my woman. That’s all I need. That’s all I’ll ever need to be a happy man.
When I imagined asking her to marry me, the last scenario I thought it would be was in front of her father, brothers, and a man that’s an escape convict. I didn’t know how I was going to do it. It wasn’t planned when I bought the ring this morning. I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the twelve hours it’s been since I walked out of that jewelry store with a velvet box in tow.
Determined not to waste another second without her wearing my ring, I ease it from the pocket where I’d stored it after I changed, then I sink to one knee as her head swivels back around to see what I’m doing.
Her eyes round, growing in size, as air is sucked in through her opened mouth.
“Will you be my wife, my partner? Will you marry me, Sienna Caputo?”
The surprise in her eyes turns to something akin to worry. At the sight of tears pooling in her eyes, my skin prickles, and the organ in my chest seizes as a bead of liquid tips over the bottom of her eye, followed by another, cascading down her cheek on the opposite side. For a split second, I question if my spur of the moment decision was the wrong thing to do after what she’s been through tonight.
“Yes!” Her face lights up and the breath I was holding finally releases. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter 47
SIENNA
Matteo pushes off his knee, coming back to stand in front of me, ring box open for me to see. It’s the most exquisite piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen. The diamond is a princess cut—go figure. But that’s not to say he chose wrong. He most certainly did not. There is a halo of smaller diamonds around the larger one set in what I think is either a platinum band or white gold. Either way, it’s a sight to behold.
Removing the ring, he discards the box by placing it out of the way on the mantle, then he pulls my left hand between us, slipping the perfectly sized ring on my finger. It’s even prettier on my finger. Lifting my lashes, I peek up, smiling at the man I’m going to call my husband.
“Babe,” I say. “I’m really excited about marrying you. In fact, I can’t wait. Weird for me to feel that way but whatever, I’m going to roll with it. But there is just one little thing I need you to clear up for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you let Brooklyn go to her mom’s?” I tilt my head to the side, waiting for an answer that can only go one of two ways.
“Yeah, about that—”
I hold up my hand, interrupting him. “There is no need for an explanation. A simple yes or no will suffice.”
“Yeeess,” he admits, slow and cautiously.
I nod in an equally slow performance, letting him know I heard his words loud and clear. Then I ram my knee between his legs so damn hard I feel a ripple effect up my own leg. Matteo’s knees hit the hardwood floor at my feet.
“Well, that went from lame as fuck to the highlight of my night in a matter of seconds,” my twin says from behind me
where he’s seated on one of the couches next to Dom.
“Jesus, Sienna!” Matteo yells, cupping his crotch. “Fuck!”
“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again, okay?” I stare down at him with my hands on my hips.
“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, De Salvo. My time is coming,” Dom adds, and I glance over my shoulder, pursing my lips at my brother.
“My fiancé, my problem to deal with. Go find your own person.”
“Tony, I like her already.” My gaze slides to the man taking up space in my dad’s house. He smirks when our eyes meet. “She’d give Arianna a run for her money in the how big are my balls department.”
“Dad, why is there an outsider in our home?” I ask, my eyes never leaving Matteo’s uncle’s. I do know who he is. The question is why is he here? Granted, Dad said he was falsely sentenced, but still, he was sentenced to life. So, what’s he doing here?”
“Baby girl, I am far from an outsider,” Giovanni answers.
“She is not your baby girl or your anything. Do not call her as such,” Matteo barks out.
“That’s where you’re wrong, nephew. Since you slid that ring on her finger, she is now my soon-to-be-niece. But”—he pauses, a curve to his lips forming as if he knows something we do not—“she’s been my goddaughter for far longer. All three of them have.”
“Come again?” Ren growls as my brows crunch together, confused.
Matteo starts to stand, slow in his rise, but I turn my back, searching out my father. Domenico and Lorenzo do the same.
“Giovanni, shut the fuck up.” Dad shakes his head, his demeanor annoyed but not mad that his man is spewing lies. “There’s the right way to do something, say something, propose,”—Dad’s eyes land on Matteo, his announce growing—“then there is the way a fucking De Salvo does it.”
Bad Princess: A Mafia Romance Page 32