by Cora Reilly
I brought the bottle to my lips and emptied the beer in one gulp. Diego regarded me over his own bottle as if he too considered using the bottle to slice someone open, only in his case that someone was going to be me. He sneered at me again.
Maybe I’d kill him too if he didn’t stop looking at me like that.
Mick was babbling about going engagement ring shopping because the festivities were supposed to happen in a few months. At least, he was clever enough not to ask either Diego or me to join him.
“The hottest girl in Vegas is going to be my wife, can you believe it?”
Over my dead body, Michelangelo. I looked him up and down. He didn’t deserve Gemma, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t get her.
Diego grabbed another beer and emptied it in two large gulps before he leveled his scowl on me.
It wasn’t even midnight when I left. Mick was disappointed, but if you asked me, he could count himself lucky to be alive. I’d killed him in about two dozen different ways while he went on and on about his fucking engagement party.
“Don’t feel like celebrating, do you?” Diego said close behind me when I stopped at my car.
I turned, narrowing my eyes. “Neither did you.”
“I don’t like the idea of anyone getting into my sister’s panties.”
A new wave of insane fury raced through me. “Michel-fucking-angelo won’t get into Gem’s panties or anywhere near them.”
Diego’s expression made it clear that he’d taunted me to get exactly that reaction. I took a step closer to him. “You know Gemma doesn’t want to marry Mick. If he wasn’t so infatuated, he’d realize it too.”
“He was the best option. She needs to be promised at her age. Why do you even care, Savio? It’s not like you seemed to give a fuck when I told you we were looking for someone.”
“I do care now, and I tell you that Gemma won’t marry Mick, got it?”
Diego shook his head. “It’s too late. She needs to be promised, that’s just how it is. Unless you decide to marry after all?”
I scoffed and Diego’s expression darkened. “Then there’s nothing you can do, Savio. Whatever you want from Gemma, you can’t have it. Not unless there’s a ring with your name on her finger.”
I glared. A ring with my name. Marriage. Did I really want that?
He shrugged and turned to head toward his car. “I hope you’ll enjoy seeing the bloody sheets after Mick and Gemma’s wedding night.”
What the fuck? I advanced on him, grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the car. He didn’t even bother fighting me off, only grinned mirthlessly.
“I’m going to kill him before I’ll allow that to happen, Diego. If I have to, I’ll kill you, too.”
“Fuck you, Savio. You have to make a decision, and you better make it quick. Because once we’ve officially celebrated the engagement, there’s no going back. How much are you willing to do to get my sister?”
He shoved me away and got into his car, then drove off, giving me the finger.
How much was I willing to do for Gemma?
I’d cut a few of my goddamn fingers off to get my hands on her, but marriage? Damn. No matter the price, I’d pay it, only to be the first in Gemma’s panties.
I drove back home in record time, sending pebbles flying everywhere as I hit the brakes right in front of the entrance.
Lights came on in Nino’s wing. I stormed toward the front door, pushed it open then went in search of Remo. It was a few minutes past midnight, so I doubted he was in bed unless he fucked Serafina.
I found him in the common area, staring at his laptop. When he spotted me, his eyes narrowed, and he put the laptop aside. “I don’t like your expression.”
I stopped right in front of him, panting as if I’d run a marathon, but my racing pulse and throbbing heartbeat had nothing to do with physical exertion. “We have a problem.”
Remo leaned back, regarding me closely. “A ‘I have to kill someone problem’?”
I didn’t want to kill Mick, or Diego.
That wasn’t true. I wanted to kill Mick, but I shouldn’t, but I would kill him if we didn’t find another solution. “That’s something I’d like to avoid.”
I had Remo’s full attention now. Killing was his favorite pastime and I too enjoyed to spill our enemies’ blood. “Spill.”
“Gemma was promised to Mick. She’s supposed to marry him when she turns eighteen.”
The keen look disappeared at once and was replaced by annoyance. “I don’t see why that’s my concern. My men handle their family matters. I told them when I became Capo that I didn’t want to be involved in their fucking match-making. They don’t need my blessing to barter their children away.”
“It’s your concern because I want Gemma, and I don’t give a fuck what I’ll have to do to get her.”
Remo got up and tilted his head in contemplation. Remo managed to make you feel like an insect under the microscope when he regarded you like that. The worst thing was that he always saw more than you wanted him to see. It was his special skill, that and being a twisted, brutal fucker who loved to torture people. “Why didn’t Daniele arrange a marriage with you then, if you want her?”
“I didn’t say I wanted her. He mentioned he was looking for a husband for her, but…”
“But you didn’t want to cage your fucking bull in,” Remo said with a nod toward my groin. His twisted smile stirred the rage in my insides once more, but a fight with my brother was the last thing I needed.
“I thought I had time.”
“She’s sixteen, Savio. Don’t play dumb. You know that girls are often promised way before then, especially in traditional families like Gemma’s. That they waited this long is already unusual.”
I made a non-committal noise. I knew why they’d waited this long because they’d thought I might throw my hat in the ring. “I need to have her.”
“You need to have her so you can fuck her, boost your ego and then discard her. Or you need to have her—”
I interrupted him. “I want her as my wife. It’s the only way I can have her at all.”
Remo looked close to laughter, a far more unsettling sight than him covered in the bowels of his enemies. “You want to marry?”
Could he have sounded any more shocked?
“Is that so hard to believe?”
Remo walked past me and toward the liquor cabinet. “I think that requires alcohol.”
“Come on, stop being dramatic. If you can be a husband, it should be a piece of cake for me. A few years ago, you loathed the idea of marriage, now you’re making a marriage work as if it was nothing. You’re a father for fuck’s sake.”
Remo poured a generous amount of whiskey into two glasses then held one out to me. Rolling my eyes, I went over to him and accepted the drink. I could use some alcohol. Today’s news had been a shock to my system.
Nino appeared in the room, only dressed in underpants, regarding us with a suspicious expression. When it had been only my brothers and me in the mansion, most of us hadn’t even bothered with clothing. “What’s going on? You woke the boys and Kiara with your rude entry.”
Remo grabbed another glass, and filled that too. “You should have a drink.”
Nino accepted the glass. “What are we toasting?”
“That Savio wants to put his bull on a leash.”
I sent Remo a scathing look, which he answered with his twisted grin.
“What exactly does that mean?” Nino asked in mild curiosity.
“He wants to marry.”
“Gemma Bazzoli, I assume.”
I downed the rest of the whiskey, annoyed that my brothers could look through me as if I was a glass figurine. “You are a fucking know-it-all, aren’t you?”
“Did you ask for her hand?”
I grimaced. “No. Until recently, I didn’t really consider marriage a valid option.”
Nino regarded me as if I was a curious specimen worth studying. “And what changed?”
; “She was promised to another man, Michelangelo.”
“Carlucci’s second son,” Nino stated. “And one of your best friends.”
That was true. Diego and Mick were pretty much my only friends, except for my brothers. Finding people that you could trust if your name was Falcone was close to impossible. “He won’t marry Gemma. I don’t care what I’ll have to do to make her mine.”
“The Carluccis and the Bazzolis are loyal families,” Nino drawled. “Offending them would come with a price. Our soldiers respect us because we’re just. If we force the Bazzoli girl into a marriage with you despite her engagement to Michelangelo, that could lead to dispute among our men.”
Remo nodded. Usually, he didn’t give a fuck about other people, but as cruel and twisted as he was, he took care of his men. “Nino’s got a point. We have to handle this carefully, or this could snowball into something very ugly, all because you were too horny to make up your mind in time.”
“Gemma wants to marry me, not Mick, that’s something you should keep in mind, and let’s be honest, her family will throw a fucking party if Gemma becomes a Falcone.”
“Are you sure the girl really still wants you? Maybe she’ll hold your man-whoring ways against you, not to mention that you didn’t bother asking for her hand when she wasn’t promised to another.”
I glared at my brothers. They always knew how to make me feel like a stupid boy again. “Gemma still wants me, believe me.”
“Be that as it may, we need to figure out a way to break her engagement to Michelangelo without causing discord.”
“Mick wants her. He won’t go quietly.”
“Challenge him,” Remo said. “During one of the public training sessions. Challenge him in a cage fight for Gemma’s hand. In front of fellow soldiers, he’d lose face if he didn’t agree to the fight. Make the girl be there as well. If he’s got the hots for her, he’ll try to impress her.”
I considered that. There was only one problem. “Mick knows he doesn’t stand a chance against me in a cage. I’ll wipe the floor with his sorry ass. Why would he agree to a fight he can only lose? He already has Gemma in the bag after all.”
“Tell him you’ll fight him a day after your big fight. You’ll be sore and tired fighting this close together. Have Diego and Daniele be there as well. Mick would be considered a coward if he didn’t accept your challenge.”
“All right. This sounds like it could actually work,” I said, smirking.
“Nothing to be smug about,” Remo growled. “Because of your fucking dickheadedness, we’ll have to offend a loyal family. That’s nothing that should happen again, so you better go through with this wedding once you’ve won the girl’s hand, or I’ll personally castrate you.”
“Don’t worry. Gemma will be mine.”
The next day, Dad joined Diego and me on our way to the gym. Apparently, Remo wanted to check the fitness level of his men and had invited several of them over to train with him and his brothers. It had happened before. Dad always said that Remo had made the Camorra strong by making his men strong and keeping them that way. The man despised laziness and weakness and expected his men to stay sharp and in shape.
I’d almost backed out. It wasn’t like I was required to be there, even if today was my usual training day. Deep down, I was scared of facing Savio after I’d been promised to Mick. I was worried about the feelings his presence would evoke in me and absolutely terrified of realizing that he couldn’t care less that I was promised to another man. Diego had mentioned that Savio knew about the upcoming engagement, but he hadn’t been forthcoming about anything else. That could only mean that Savio didn’t care that I was as good as engaged. Savio had so many girls at his disposal, all of them beautiful and not bound by restricting traditions, why would he waste a second thought on me?
Dad looked almost worried when we headed for the gym. “It’s been a while for me. I haven’t had much time to work out these last two months.”
“You’ll be fine, Dad,” Diego said, slanting me a concerned look when we walked into the gym. It was already filled with many soldiers Diego’s age but also a few men who were over forty like Dad. Over to the right, there was Mick with his father and older brother.
Mick still looked as if he was on cloud nine. I avoided looking directly at him. I simply couldn’t meet his eyes, because across the room, standing among his brothers was Savio, and he commanded my attention as usual. Tall, muscled, with his arms crossed in that casual way, and an air of absolute confidence. I tore my eyes away from him too. Seeing him hurt in a way I couldn’t explain—a pressure in my chest that increased with every passing moment.
I hurried toward the locker room, already regretting that I had come along. From this day onward, I wouldn’t work out with Savio. I couldn’t take his presence, not anymore. Stumbling into the sweat-soaked air of the locker room, I tried to breathe, but the pressure on my chest made that difficult. As the only girl, the men waited outside while I changed, which allowed me to brave my freak-out without prying eyes.
With shaking fingers, I fumbled with the buttons of my jeans, popping open one after the other. If only it were this easy to release the pressure in my chest. A knock sounded, startling me out of my breakdown.
Before I could shout a warning, the door swung open and Savio slipped in. His eyes slid down the length of my body, lingering on my open jeans and my plain white cotton panties peeking out. Horrified, I whirled around. “Savio! What are you doing here? Get out!” My cheeks throbbed with embarrassment, and worse: excitement, because the second it had taken me before I’d turned around, my eyes had memorized every detail of Savio’s body. I didn’t think I’d ever grow tired of admiring the hard planes of his chest. As vain as Savio was, and he was one of the vainest guys I’d ever met, his muscles were the result of fighting, meant to make him invincible in the cage. They weren’t just pretty decoration.
“Calm down, Kitty. I only saw a tiny bit of your panties, nothing to get them in a bunch over.”
“I’m promised to Mick. I can’t be alone with you. That’s inappropriate,” I said, and my voice shook the slightest bit. I straightened my spine, but my muscles didn’t stop trembling. The image of the tips of horns had teased me from beneath Savio’s low sweatpants. That stupid tattoo would definitely haunt my dreams.
Silence fell between us, then warmth ghosted over my back—Savio standing so close that I could feel his presence everywhere. I swallowed. “You need to leave.”
Then why didn’t I sound like I wanted that?
“Won’t you face me?”
Bracing myself, I turned around to him, clutching my jeans.
Savio noticed and smiled in that annoying way.
Anger took hold of me at his audacity. Did he think he could pretend I wasn’t promised to another man? “Maybe you didn’t understand what I said. I’m promised to your friend Mick now. We’re going to marry. You can’t be alone with me.”
Savio tilted his head. “Tell me one thing, Kitty, and be honest, do you want to marry Mick?”
“We’re not having that discussion.” I shook my head, glaring. What did it matter? Was this some kind of game to him? “I’m promised to him, Savio. It doesn’t matter if I want to marry him or not. Once I turn eighteen, I’ll become his wife.”
“It matters to me.” He leaned down, bringing us impossibly close, his eyes piercing me with their intent. “Now answer my question, do you want to marry him?”
“I don’t know why you think you have any right to ask me this question, much less demand an answer from me. You are my brother’s friend, nothing else.”
Savio took another step closer, forcing me to back away or we would have touched. My calves hit the wooden bench, stopping me from retreating farther. I tensed and narrowed my eyes at him.
“Answer my question, Kitty, or I’ll make you, and I know you don’t want that.”
A shiver passed down my spine. That wasn’t the promise of pain or torture, that was the promise of s
omething else that scared me even more in our current situation.
I brought my palms up against his chest and shoved hard, but Savio anticipated my move and didn’t as much as twitch. He grabbed my arms and pulled me against him, so my breasts, thankfully still covered by a bra and shirt, smacked against his very naked chest. I gasped. I’d never been this close to a man, unless you counted the few times during fight training, but then the moment had never lasted long.
“Stop,” I croaked. “Stop it now.”
“Just answer my question,” he said in a low voice that reminded me who he was. The Falcones had claimed power like an unstoppable force for a reason. You couldn’t resist their brutal charisma. Least of all, I. Savio’s charm was like a drug to my system.
“I don’t want to marry Mick, and you know that very well!” I pressed out and ripped away from his hold. “Now leave.”
Savio’s expression almost brought me to my knees. “You won’t marry Mick then. We both know who it is you really want to wed.”
I couldn’t believe him. “The guy I might have wanted didn’t care enough to ask for my hand, so now I’ll marry the guy who had the guts to marry me.”
“You won’t marry Mick. You will be mine.”
I blinked, stunned by the possessiveness in his voice, and momentarily worried that my mind was making this up. He’d never as much as hinted to being interested in me—at least not more than his usual interest in anything with breasts.
“It’s too late,” I said, sounding strong even as my heart broke. Why couldn’t he have shown this kind of desire for me before, when my father was looking for a husband? Now I was stuck with Mick.
He smirked. The smirk that made me want to hit him—and worse: kiss him. He leaned down. “Oh Kitty, I will own you, even if I have to shove my knife into his fucking heart.”
Own me? Even as indignation rose up in me, those words had another effect: they sent a surprising thrill through my body.