Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage)

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Savage Ruler: A Dark Italian - Irish Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Sinfully Savage) Page 20

by Kristen Luciani


  “Heaven,” he says, being very ballsy in my opinion and putting a hand on my shoulder. I tense up, narrowing my eyes at him. “I did what I thought was best for the family and for our organization! Marrying Matteo was to protect us all—"

  “No!” I scream, a sob rising in my throat. “Marrying Matteo was to keep me in check because you just didn’t trust me! You haven’t since…” I swallow hard, my pulse throbbing along with my temples. “Since Molly was taken. You blamed me.” I wave my arm around. “You all did!”

  “Heaven, that’s nonsense,” Aunt Maura says, taking a few cautious steps toward me. “Everyone knew you’d done what you could to stop them from taking her!”

  My eyes pool with angry tears, but I’ll be damned if I let them slide down my flaming cheeks. They think I’m weak. I’m not about to prove it to them! “No, not everyone.” I look at my father. “You didn’t. I saw it in your eyes then and I can see it again now.”

  Dad shakes his head. “You only see what you want to see, Heaven. You always have. You’ve just been so racked with guilt over it that you’ve never been able to let yourself off the hook.”

  “It was my fault,” I say. “And I’ve been trying to make it up ever since.”

  “You’re the only one who needs this redemption.” Dad’s forehead pinches.

  “Fuck that!” Conor yells, still clutching himself. “If you had the makings of a boss, you’d have saved her!”

  “Conor!” Dad yells. “Enough!”

  I shake my head, my shoulders slumping. “No. He’s right. I know it. And that’s why I’ve been trying to make up for it for the past eight years. But let’s get one thing straight, Conor,” I hiss. “I may have fucked up that night, but I’m not the one who opened fire on our entire family! And while you drown in that reality…your fucking reality…I’m going to figure out how to dodge the barrage of bullets that will be fired back at us. Me, Conor. I’m going to be the one to save our family!”

  I glare at them once more, wanting to make sure they feel the fire in my gaze before I turn my back and stalk toward the door and shove it open. I press my hands to my temples once I’m standing outside on the quiet sidewalk, but the throbbing will not cease.

  I have a cartel war to fight, a deceitful sack of shit for a husband, and a pounding headache desperately in need of some Advil.

  Goosebumps shoot up my arms and down my legs as I take a shuddering breath.

  Time is not on my side.

  And evidently, neither is karma.

  I lean my hand against the brick face next to the door, every last nerve twitching.

  I have to take a step.

  I need to make a decision.

  Now.

  The bell over the entrance to the pub jingles just as squealing tires screech to a halt in front of the restaurant.

  “Heaven!” Aunt Maura calls out. But a loud crash makes me jump, and I jerk around in time to see a metal trash can fly into the air and land on a nearby car.

  Doors open, footsteps pound over the pavement.

  The car alarm blares as a set of faces flash in front of me.

  Dark, menacing faces.

  And they’re fast approaching.

  Another car from a different direction hops the curb, and I jump backward, slamming against the wall with a loud yelp.

  I’m surrounded on both sides by tables and chairs, stuck in the middle of the fenced-in dining area.

  Trapped.

  Exactly the way they planned it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Matteo

  I lean on the horn of Roman’s car as I zoom down 42nd Street, alerting anyone in my way to get the fuck out of it.

  “How do you know that she went to the pub?” Roman asks, pulling out his gun.

  “Because I just know,” I grumble. “She went to find Declan, and I’ll bet that’s where he is right now.”

  I press the gas pedal to the floor, barreling through a light. “Fuck!” I yell, pointing to the front entrance of Molly’s. “Dominguez obviously had the same idea!” I veer right, jumping the curb just as gunfire explodes into the air, peppering the sides of the car as we careen past. The car crashes into an overturned trash can, just beyond the restaurant. My brothers and I leap out of the car, greeted by an eruption of bullets. I run around the front of the car toward Heaven, Dominguez’s guys now using Roman’s car as their shield. Bullets ricochet off the smoldering metal as I dart toward my wife where she’s hovering under a table with her aunt.

  As I run, the sunlight fades and the moon glows in the sky, and suddenly I’m transported back in time.

  I’m no longer staring at Heaven’s stricken face.

  It’s my cousin Joey’s lifeless one.

  His skin is pale, his eyes vacant.

  All because I didn’t get there in time to stop the horrors from consuming him on that fateful night.

  I waited too long.

  I watched it all happen.

  I had the power to stop it.

  But I didn’t.

  I lost him.

  I lost myself.

  I can’t lose anyone else.

  My legs ache, my muscles tensing with each step. Conor comes running out of the pub with a gun in his outstretched hand.

  Pop!

  Crack!

  Bang!

  I keep running until I am close enough to dive toward Heaven and Aunt Maura and push them out of the line of fire that is coming closer and closer.

  Panic assaults my body and mind as my body lunges for them, my sole priority being protection.

  “Heaven! Get down!” I yell.

  I hear my words pierce the air just as a sudden and harsh impact makes me jerk forward. The force was like that of a baseball bat crashing against my back. And just as suddenly, searing pain erupts in the center of my back, tearing through my insides like a jagged flaming poker. I crumble to the ground on top of Heaven, unable to move.

  “I’m so sorry,” I gasp, gritting my teeth as the bullet slices through me. “I should have stopped it when I had the chance. I’d never hurt you. I…love…you…”

  “Matteo, oh my God!” Heaven shrieks, tears rolling down her cheeks. She clutches me tight, pulling me against her as shots continue to explode behind me. “Somebody call 911! He’s been hit!” She cups my face, her blue eyes blurring into rippling pools in front of me.

  In the depths of my mind, I hear muffled sounds above me — screaming, crying, and yelling, although I can’t piece together what’s happening to me. I’m still alive — gasping, riddled with pain, and somewhat aware. But all of those sensations all fade quickly as streams of light behind my eyes blanket the threat of impending darkness.

  That’s when everything starts to slip away.

  But before it does, one final thought stutters forth, blooming in my tormented mind.

  I did stop it.

  I saved her.

  Numbness then snakes through my extremities, stifling the anguish as a strange yet comforting calmness settles into my soul.

  And then, just like it’s been swallowed up by a black hole, my whole world goes silent.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Heaven

  I didn’t tell him I loved him.

  I didn’t tell him I loved him.

  “Heaven!” Conor screams. “Dad’s been hit!”

  The gunfire finally stops and one of the cartel soldiers makes a run for his car, tearing away from the curb before anyone can pop off a cap in the rear windshield or a tire. My shoulders quake as I clutch Matteo, whose face is growing more and more pale.

  Sirens ring out, blaring like clanging cymbals between my ears as they approach.

  “I’m going after him!” Conor yells, pulling open the door of his car and peeling down the street in hot pursuit of the escape shooter.

  “Aunt Maura!” I yell. “How bad was he hit?”

  “He’s awake!” she shouts back. “Thank God!”

  I nod, holding Matteo closer to my chest. My tear
s fall silently, slipping from my chin onto his blood-stained t-shirt.

  There’s such a fine line between love and hate.

  Only a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure where I stood…if I could ever cross back over.

  An icy hand squeezes my heart, the same raw sensation that assaults my fingers, interlaced with his frigid and stiff ones.

  At this point, I don’t know if it will even matter.

  I swipe at my eyes, Roman and Sergio bent over Matteo trying to check for some sign of life.

  “His pulse is weak,” Sergio mutters. “Matty, don’t you fucking die on us!”

  Roman sweeps a hand through his hair, jumping up as the ambulance stops in the middle of the street.

  EMTs jump out of the ambulances, one set running to my father and one set darting over to where Matteo lies.

  They check his vitals, tight-lipped and muttering quietly to one another. My heart dips lower and lower in my chest as I jump into the back of his ambulance. Aunt Maura climbs into the back of the ambulance with Dad, and Roman and Sergio follow closely behind as we veer through the city streets to NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital.

  I cuddle against Matteo, cradling his hand in mine as my lips move in rapid and silent prayer.

  I’m so angry at him and my father and Conor, so fed up with the deceit, but so absolutely wrecked at the turn of events…and devastated at myself for cowering — unable to save anyone.

  Again.

  I bring his hand to my lips, squeezing it tight.

  I love him.

  So much.

  But my God, I’m furious at him.

  He betrayed me and my family.

  He lied.

  And then he married me, promising to love and cherish me forever.

  Until his dying day.

  He crushed me, shredding my heart and soul in the process.

  A chill slips down my back and I clutch my midsection, fear and anger knotting my gut.

  For years, I berated myself for not being able to stop a tragedy from occurring. I allowed my guilt to consume me. It fueled the flames of my inner turmoil and feasted on my confidence. For years, I attempted to claw a path out of the black hole my life had become, but the shadows always hovered overhead, threatening to eclipse any bit of light that could possibly shine through.

  But Matteo’s presence unexpectedly forced those clouds apart. He illuminated the darkness, sparking hopes for a promising future. He filled the holes in my heart and soul, showing me what my life could be if I opened up to the possibilities.

  That’s what I cling to now as the ambulance careens around the driveway in front of the Emergency Room.

  The possibilities.

  There are so many.

  As long as he is by my side.

  I pace the waiting room, chewing on my nails. Where the hell is the doctor? How much longer do we have to wait for a status?

  I rub my hands down my arms, glancing into the corner where Roman is huddled against the wall with his phone to his ear. I know he’s calling the rest of his family.

  Sergio stands over by a window, a vacant stare in his eyes. I walk toward him, not wanting to speak a word. But somehow being with Matteo’s brother makes me feel closer to him. It seems silly but comforting at the same time.

  “Did he tell you about Joey?” Sergio asks in a tired voice.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “He was so desperate to get to you today, Heaven. He’d have never let anything happen to you. And he was ready to go after Dominguez to make sure you stayed safe.”

  I nod, my voice too choked to speak.

  Sergio looks at me. “I know we don’t know each other at all, but my brother is a good man. He’s had his share of fuck-ups and he’s made some bad judgment calls, like all of us, but he’s the most loyal guy I know. And he ran hard for that bullet, taking it so you didn’t.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “He saved my life.”

  “Yeah,” Sergio mumbles. “He loved you. I know things happened fast with you two and shit didn’t go exactly according to the script of a fairy tale, but he’d have given anything to keep you safe. Including his life.”

  I swallow the sob that bubbles in my chest. “This can’t be the end,” I whisper. Sergio opens his arms and pulls me close.

  “Matty is a stubborn old fuck. And he’s vicious. He’ll fight hard, Heaven, because he knows what he has.”

  “So will I,” I whisper. “So will I.”

  We stand together as time creeps by, the silence deafening.

  “Mrs. Villani?”

  I jump at the intruding voice, spinning around to see one of the nurses standing behind us, her brows furrowed. She shakes his head and my heart clenches. “W-what is it?” I manage to choke out. “Is he…will he…?”

  “The doctor planned to come and speak to you, but your husband coded while we were examining him and they rushed him into emergency surgery.” She shakes her head. “There wasn’t time to waste. I’m sorry I don’t have more of an update for you right now.”

  There’s no sense in asking the question on the tip of my tongue.

  The grave look in her gaze speaks volumes.

  A gaggle of tears catches in my throat, and Sergio’s arm tightens around my shoulders as the nurse scurries back through the large red doors. Aunt Maura passes her on the way out, rushing over to me.

  “Your dad is being patched up now. They’ll probably keep him for another hour or two just for observation.” She bites down on her lower lip. “How is Matteo?” she asks, twisting her hands.

  But I can’t even speak. I just shake my head as tears dribble from my eyes. She wraps her arms around me, stroking my back like she used to do when I was young.

  Back then, it was comforting.

  Now all it does is make me feel like more and more control is slipping away from me.

  I may not be able to save my husband, but I may be able to redeem myself.

  Conor bursts into the emergency room, running right over to me.

  I push away from Aunt Maura, my jaw twitching as he dangles the car keys in front of me. “I got the shooter,” he hisses. “He’s in the trunk. And I have a location for Dominguez.”

  Adrenaline floods my veins and I reach out to dig my fingers into Conor’s wrists. “We’re going. Now.”

  He nods, a murderous glare in his eyes. “He’s fucking finished.”

  I look up at Sergio. “Call me the second you hear anything.”

  “Fuck that, I’m coming with you,” he says. “I want a crack at this bastard, too.”

  I look at Aunt Maura. “Tell Roman and Dad, and call me the second you hear anything.”

  She grabs me, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Be careful,” she whispers against my hair. “And be smart. He’ll be expecting you.”

  I pull away. “Not this time. He won’t see this coming at all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Heaven

  Half an hour later because of fucking Manhattan traffic, we’re barreling down Malcom X Blvd in the direction of Central Park North.

  “This guy had better not be screwing with us,” I growl, opening Conor’s glove compartment and fishing around for a weapon. My fingers close around a Kershaw automatic knife and I pull it out, holding it up in front of my face. One click of the button and the stainless steel blade pops out, the sharp tip glimmering in the sunlight streaming through the windshield.

  “You need a gun,” Conor says.

  “Why?” I ask. “You guys are going to cover me while I find Dominguez, therefore you need the guns.”

  “And what the hell do you expect to do when you find Dominguez?” he demands.

  “I’m going to kill him,” I reply in a calm voice.

  “The fuck you are!” Connor yells. “This is my beef, not yours! I’m gonna finish him!”

  “It became my ‘beef’ when he sent his men to kill me.” I turn and glare at Conor. “It became my fight when he almost took my husband’s life! And now Matteo might
die, so yeah, my beef takes fucking priority here.”

  “You don’t get to pick your kills, Heaven. That’s not how this works!”

  I force a nasty smile as Conor slams his foot on the brake at a red light, a few blocks from our destination. I grab his chin and turn it toward me. “It works this way now because I’m calling the shots. Your fifteen seconds are up, Conor, and you’ve fucked up plenty in that short amount of time. So you just step off and let me handle Dominguez. That, or you might find my knife buried in your goddamn thigh before you even have a chance to get out of this car!”

  Sergio lets out a low whistle from the backseat. “My sister-in-law is a badass bitch,” he mutters. “I’m good with the plan, Heaven. Just so we’re clear.”

  “Smart guy,” I grunt darkly.

  “So this guy Dominguez, how sure can we be that he’s gonna be at this address?” Sergio asks. “I mean, are we gonna walk into a trap? The guy had time to make some calls before Conor snatched him and tossed him in the trunk.”

  “That’s just a chance we’re gonna have to take.” Conor hooks a right turn into the park entrance. “But from what he told me before he pissed his pants and I fired a blank at his temple, Dominguez will be too busy with his new shipment of pussy to worry about us. Today, his priority is fucking virgins. Tomorrow, he’ll be back on us.”

  “Oh, he’ll be on his back for sure. But it’ll be because he’s dead,” I say through clenched teeth.

  Conor drives through the park, which is surprisingly pretty desolate at this time of morning. I gaze out the window, scouring the landscape for any signs of life. I see ominous figures moving through the trees, out of plain sight but just waiting to sniff out and then snuff out any newcomers in fancy cars. This area is known to be one of the most deadly areas of Harlem, so taking out the head of a drug cartel is actually lower risk than obliviously wandering through this seemingly scenic area.

 

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