“Lied?” he asked in surprise. “Maria, that was Stefano’s ring.”
I pulled back, twisting on his lap. “What are you talking about?”
“The ring was Stefano’s, but it was Sal behind your brother’s death. He discovered Stefano’s proclivities and had blackmailed Stefano into giving him the ring, then he planted it on the Pagans who killed your brother. He knew about your suffering and did nothing to stop it.”
The most hateful rage I’d ever known slithered through my chest. Blood-thirsty and insatiable.
I glanced down at the blood spatter on Matteo’s shirt. “I take it Stefano is dead?”
“He’s in the process. I didn’t want it to be over with too quickly.”
I gave a single nod then allowed the Ice Queen to rise to the surface. “Sal is mine. Promise me you’ll let me have him when we find him.” My gaze bore into his. I could see a hint of trepidation.
He wanted to slay my demons for me, but some demons were personal. Some demons could never be slayed except by the hands of their victims.
Sal had violated my family in every way possible. No one had suffered from his actions more than we had. We were the ones owed retribution.
Sal Amato was going to die, and I would be the one to send him to Hell.
Chapter 24
Maria
“Jesus, I’m going to have to buy new bras. I look like I’ve had a freaking boob job.” I poked at the top of my breasts, attempting to keep my quadra-boob from bubbling up and out of my suddenly inadequate brazier. In a matter of a few days, my tits had exploded. Like The Blob, they were unable to be contained— ‘Indescribable! Indestructible! Nothing can stop it!’—truer words had never been spoken. If these suckers didn’t stop growing soon, I was going to suffocate in my own bosom. Not very dignified, but it would make for an entertaining obituary.
“You think they’ll stay like that?” Matteo asked. When I peered up at him, he wore a lusty, hopeful expression.
I smacked his chest just as my parents’ front door opened.
“Come in!” my mother welcomed us with Jersey hair and a toothy grin. “Sorry, I forgot to unlock the door. It’s getting chilly out there. Winter will be here before you know it!”
Matteo took off his jacket, but I kept mine on, hoping to disguise my recent development. We chatted with Mom for a second, but before we could head back to the dining room, squealing from the front steps caught our attention. We glanced at one another curiously, then made for the front door.
Sofia and Alessia were wrapped in one another’s arms while Luca and Nico shook hands.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you hadn’t seen each other in a decade. Why all the fuss?” I called out from the doorway.
The girls pulled away from each another, their faces both lit with LED grins. Sofia grabbed Alessia’s hand, pulling her up the steps, then shoved her forward expectantly and silently clapped her hands in anticipation.
Alessia bit her lip, then lifted her left hand to show off a dazzling engagement ring. “Luca proposed.” She radiated happiness, and it was infectious. Alessia may not have been my favorite person growing up, but a bond between us was slowly developing. Maybe it was owed to her recent maturity, and maybe it was a product of my own growth, but either way, we had finally started to relate to one another. She had struggled to accept our mafia lifestyle. It spoke volumes to me that she let her heart lead her rather than arbitrary societal standards.
Seeing her joy overwhelmed me with a similar sense of happiness and gratitude. I lunged forward and yanked her into a tight hug. “Lessi, I’m so happy for you.”
Her arms came around me, but slowly. When I pulled back to see if she was okay, she gaped at me in awe. “You called me Lessi,” she whispered. “You called me Lessi and hugged me.”
“I’m just so—” my face crinkled with the effort of containing an onslaught of threatening tears— “happy for you.” I suddenly realized that all eyes were glued to me like a circus spectacle. “I can’t help it! It’s the hormones!” I cried out without thinking, just wanting to escape their scrutiny. The moment the words were out, I realized what I’d done.
My sisters’ jaws dropped. Luca and Nico’s brows rose up their foreheads. My mother gasped behind me.
“Well, shit. Guess the cat’s out of the bag.” I lifted my arms in mock celebration. “Surprise! I’m pregnant.”
My family burst into laughter, Matteo pulling me into his chest and kissing the top of my head. “Way to break the news, slick,” he rumbled softly against my hair.
“I blame you entirely. If it weren’t for your sperm, my brain would function properly,” I teased in return. I gave him a playful smile before Sofia wrapped me in a greedy hug.
We all eventually made our way inside. This time, I removed my jacket, since there was no longer anything to hide. Matteo grinned impishly at my breasts, and my sisters gaped at me. I simply shook my head and headed for the dining room.
Alessia told us all about her birthday engagement that had transpired just that morning. Matteo and I announced our due date and described what we’d learned and seen at the doctor’s visit. Conversation was light and flowed like the wine in our cups. Well, in their cups. I stuck with water.
Prior to dinner, Matteo and I had decided we would tell my family what we’d learned about Sal without disclosing my past involvement. It wasn’t necessary as a part of the explanation and would do no good to haunt my parents with what they had unwittingly allowed to happen. Once the meal drew to a close, we launched into the explanation about how Sal had been responsible for Marco’s death. The room sobered instantly.
“Has there been any word on him since my sighting in Vegas?” I asked, my eyes dancing between my father and my husband.
“I have a team of men down there investigating,” Dad offered. “They’re working with associates of ours in the area to try and flush him out. We don’t have direct leads, but enough circumstantial evidence to believe he’s still there in the city.”
Matteo picked up his wine glass and swirled the dark liquid. “Last week, I hired a Sicario who operates down south. He promised me he’d have him in two weeks.” A Sicario? That was news to me. Sicarios were ruthless assassins used by the cartels. They had originated under Pablo Escobar’s rule and had since branched out to other organizations. They were unrelenting, almost impossible to trace, and absolutely savage. They rarely worked for North American organizations. Matteo must have called in an enormous favor to gain such assistance.
Words escaped me. All I could do was clasp his hand and hope he felt my eternal gratitude.
With the downward turn in conversation, our dinner party quickly disassembled. I made one more trip to the bathroom—I wasn’t even showing and yet my bladder had shrunk to the size of a thimble. When I exited the hall bath, my father called me into his office.
He’d been waiting for me near the doorway and closed the distance between us when I entered. My initial instinct was to be worried that he had more information on Sal that he hadn’t shared, but my concern was misplaced. His eyes softened as he drew near, his fingers twitching as if they yearned to touch me.
“I can’t remember ever seeing you this happy,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “I had hoped, even prayed, that you and Matteo might find peace between you, but this is more than I had ever dared dream. If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say the young woman who joined us at dinner was not our Maria. I don’t mean that in an ugly way,” he hurried to explain. “Just that my prayers have been answered and then some to see the light in your eyes again.” His gaze was suspiciously glassy, wreaking havoc on my hormones. Or, who knows? Maybe it had nothing to do with hormones, and I was just turning over a new leaf. Whatever the reason, I threw my arms around my father, holding him tightly. He quickly enveloped me in his own embrace, one hand tenderly cupping the back of my head.
My throat grew tight, but eventually, I found my voice. “Thank you for everything—for
welcoming me into your world, even when women weren’t normally accepted among the ranks. For sending me to Tamir and encouraging me to do what I love. And for pushing me to give Matteo a chance.” Sometimes I struggled with being angry at my parents for not pushing for the truth when I had acted out as a child, but they had been doing their best. They’d be crushed if they had any idea what had truly been happening, and I saw no reason to spread more pain.
He gently pulled back with a warm smile, arms still holding me close. “A parent’s love is immeasurable as you’ll learn soon enough.”
“Is everything all right in here?” Matteo interjected from the hallway.
I should have known he would check on me. “Yeah, just getting ready to head out. You all set?” I left my dad’s side and slid my arm around Matteo’s waist.
“Ready.” He reached out to shake my father’s hand, the two sharing a meaningful look before we made for the car.
The others had already left while I’d been visiting with my father, so our car was the only one in the front drive. In the past, I’d always thought it was absurd when a man opened the car door for a woman as if she couldn’t do it herself. As Matteo came to the passenger side and took out his keys, I realized that it was a gesture that encompassed far more than the mechanics of opening a door. It was a statement of care and devotion. Of protection and diligence. It had nothing to do with my capabilities and everything to do with Matteo’s desire to look after me.
I’d always resented the possibility of needing a protector, but now that I had one, I realized how much lighter I felt. How free I was to be myself, knowing he would always be there to catch me if I fell. I’d believed marriage would be the end of my freedom, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Matteo’s presence in my life gave me a power and confidence I hadn’t even known existed.
When he pulled open my car door, I turned to face him rather than sliding into my seat. I infused my gaze with the swell of emotion expanding in my chest and let my heart lead the way. “I love you,” I breathed into the crisp night air.
For several agonizing heartbeats, the only sound around us came from the motors of distant cars. Matteo’s face was inscrutable. A tendril of doubt began to tug at my gut, but before it could take root, Matteo’s lips came crashing down on mine. His hands tangled in my hair as his lips drank me in, devouring me whole.
We clung to one another, desperate for more. Only our need for air was strong enough to separate us. As we caught our breath, Matteo rested his forehead against mine. “I love you more than my own life. This wasn’t supposed to happen, but now, I can’t imagine life without you.”
This time, when my lips met his, our kiss was slow and tender. A promise. A pledge of forever.
Our wedding vows had been formal and scripted, but our kiss was raw and infinitely more meaningful.
When we pulled away, a single tear trickled from the corner of my eye. Matteo swiped at it with his thumb, and I huffed out a laugh.
“Fuck these hormones,” I teased, feeling the need to lighten the mood. I’d come a long way in a short amount of time, but I was still Maria.
A heavy dose of lust hooded Matteo’s eyes as his lips pulled back in a wicked grin. “I’ll fuck those hormones. I’m going to drive my cock between these beautiful double Ds you’ve been teasing me with all night. Now, get in the car,” he commanded as he swatted my ass. “I want to make love to my wife.”
Chapter 25
Maria
Marco Vincenzo Gabriel Genovese,
Born September 20, 1991, Died November 8, 2002.
Loved beyond measure, never forgotten.
One week later, I stood with Matteo at my brother’s gravesite on the anniversary of his death. I visited him on his birthday and his day of death each year. Despite all the years that had passed, it never got any easier. My patchwork heart, torn apart and pieced back together time and again, stuttered and cracked every time I read the words chiseled into his headstone.
I had loved my brother with each of my breaths, as had all of us, but it wasn’t enough. He’d been cruelly taken from us at such a young age. We’d attempted to move on with our lives, but I wasn’t sure any of us had succeeded until just recently. As if our lives had all simultaneously hit a hairpin turn in the road, finally redirecting us back toward our original destination.
I wasn’t sure I believed in divine intervention, but I was willing to admit, the recent changes in all our lives felt too good to be true. As if they’d been orchestrated. Helped along by a higher power.
I bent over and placed a pack of bubble gum and a stack of hockey player trading cards on his grave. I brought something for him each time I came. I didn’t know what happened to the goodies when I left—most likely a groundskeeper gave them to his grandkids—but I didn’t care. That wasn’t the point. It was my way of saying that I hadn’t forgotten.
“Hockey fan?” Matteo asked softly.
“Yeah, especially the Rangers, of course. There was a picture of him when he was only about three years old on Dad’s shoulders, both of them in Rangers’ jerseys, when they won the Cup years ago. After he was gone, Dad never watched any games.”
“Sounds like he was a great kid.”
I smiled softly. “Some kids are punks, especially older brothers. But Marco always seemed to understand how important he was to his little sisters. He certainly wasn’t perfect,” I added playfully. “But he was everything we ever could have wanted in a brother.”
I loved sharing pieces of Marco with Matteo. If Marco had still been alive, I was confident he would have approved of the man I’d married, regardless of how our relationship had started. The thought warmed me from the inside out on the cool November morning. Normally, I left the graveyard on my visits and spent days suffering under a black cloud of malaise. With Matteo joining me this time, I could tell that wouldn’t be the case.
I was sad to leave my brother, but there was also enough joy in my life to help me see past the hurt.
I thanked my brother from the depths of my heart for all he’d done for me. I also begged his forgiveness for the peace his death had brought me. I prayed that he knew I would have kept him alive, even if it had meant Stefano’s continued presence in my life.
Tears burned the back of my throat as I turned to see Matteo pull out his vibrating phone from his pocket.
“Yeah.” His lips thinned, and he dropped his chin. “We’ll be there by nightfall.” He hung up the phone, and the eyes of a merciless killer met mine. “We’ve got Sal.”
My knees wobbled with relief. We did it. He wouldn’t escape punishment for his crimes.
I glanced back at my brother’s grave, more confident than ever before that there had been a heavenly force helping us, just not the one I’d expected.
Thank you, Marco. I love you more than you’ll ever know.
***
Not wanting to waste time on a commercial airline, we chartered a private jet and were in the air within the hour. It also provided us with the ability to bring our preferred weapons with us, which was an enticing bonus. We debated telling my father but decided against it. He would want to kill Sal himself, and in this instance, I was going to be selfish and put my needs first. Sal was mine, and I wasn’t giving that up for anyone.
We met the Sicario at a small house nestled in an innocuous older neighborhood where houses weren’t smashed together like they were in the modern, cookie-cutter suburbs. He was younger than I had expected. Handsome even, if you liked a certain rugged, merciless quality in your men. He only stuck around long enough to point us in the direction of a back bedroom, slipping out the side door without a sound.
“Do I want to know how you acquired his services?” I asked Matteo.
His devious grin sent a sensual shiver down my spine. “I wouldn’t tell you even if you did.”
I shook my head, making a note to revisit the topic at a later date.
We approached the scratched, hollow wood door and pulled out our
guns. I let Matteo take the lead, not wanting an argument when so much was at stake. He pushed open the door, and true to his word, the Sicario had Sal bound to a chair and gagged in the middle of the empty room.
He looked like shit. Sal was one of those smarmy men who could get women half his age because of his good looks, money, and outgoing personality. Hell, his current wife was no older than I was. With a thick layer of facial hair, an unruly mop of curls on his head, and sweat-drenched ratty clothes that had likely been sourced at the local Goodwill, Sal was almost unrecognizable.
I stepped toward him and glared at the man who had destroyed my family. Righteous hatred seared my skin. The desire to shred his body like he’d shredded my life was so great, my fingers twitched with need. To maim. To punish. To extract my revenge.
But I didn’t want my temper to dictate my actions—not when the outcome was so critical. I wanted to address the wrongs my family had faced with a clear head so that I would feel satisfied with how I’d handled the situation long after Sal was gone.
I stroked my temper, calming the beast until it sheathed its claws, tail swishing in a show of irritation. I pinched a corner of the rag stuffed in Sal’s mouth, snarling in disgust at having to touch the filthy fabric. Before my hand yanked it free, I paused.
There were so many questions surrounding Sal’s betrayals—both his setup years ago that got my brother killed and his more recent attempt to take over my father’s position as boss. I was sure it boiled down to greed and hunger for power. Would it make any difference to hear him say it?
Sal Amato was venomous—in thought, word, and deed. Why allow even a wisp of that noxious poison to be set free?
“You know what? There’s no reason for this to come out.” I shoved the rag deeper down his throat. “I don’t give a fuck what you have to say. It’s my turn to do the talking.”
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