by Reilly, Cora
Valentina was the last to greet me. Her embrace was gentle as if I was breakable but I gave her a firm smile.
“We can have dinner,” Mom said with a brave smile of her own. With the kids around, she wouldn’t burst into tears again nor would anyone else.
Conversation flowed easily at the dining table. Too easily. I could tell everyone was trying to create normalcy for my sake and their own. Danilo wasn’t there. I assumed he wanted to be alone after I’d broken off our engagement, and he wasn’t part of the family and now he’d never be.
It was strange being surrounded by my family again. I sat between my siblings, both of them eager to be close to me, but my thoughts kept straying to Las Vegas, to Remo.
“How was Las Vegas?” Leonas blurted when we were done with dessert, a decadent chocolate cake, my favorite.
“Leonas,” Dante said sharply.
My cousin flushed, realizing his mistake.
I took a sip from my water then shrugged. “Not worth visiting if you ask me.”
Leonas giggled, and my family relaxed again. Samuel squeezed my hand under the table. Maybe I could find my way back to them.
It felt strange being back in my own bed. I had trouble falling asleep. Too much had happened. This morning I’d woken in Las Vegas with Remo, and now I was here.
The door opened and Samuel slipped in. I made room for him in the bed.
“Awake?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate. He lay down on the covers on his back. “What about you?”
Samuel was quiet for a couple of heartbeats. “I was in a late night meeting with Dante and Dad.”
“Oh,” I said. “About your plans to get revenge on the Camorra?”
Samuel swallowed audibly. “No. Not that. It was about Danilo. His father isn’t happy about the state of things.”
Worry overcame me. What if they married me off to him despite everything? What if his family insisted on being given Dante’s niece?
“Sam,” I whispered, and he reached for me in the dark, his hand covering mine.
“Dad promised Sofia to him.”
I froze. “She’s a child.”
Samuel sighed. “They will marry the day after her eighteenth birthday.”
“That’s still six and a half years away.”
I could feel Samuel nod. “They think Danilo is still young and busy taking control over Indianapolis and taking care of his father. He can wait.” He paused. “And it’s not like he can’t keep himself busy with other women until then.”
I closed my eyes. “What will Sofia say? It’s my fault. I should just marry him.”
“No,” Samuel growled. “We won’t let you. That’s a point we all agree on, Fina. You won’t be given in marriage to anyone. You’ve gone through enough. You’ll stay here until you feel better.”
“And then?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. I couldn’t live on my own. As a woman that wasn’t an option. They’d have to marry me off or I’d have to stay with Mom and Dad forever.
“You come live with me eventually.”
I laughed. “Yeah right. I’m sure your future wife will be ecstatic to have me under the same roof.”
“She’ll do as I say,” he murmured.
I fell silent. “Once you marry, it’s your duty to protect her, to be good to her, Sam. I won’t be your responsibility anymore.”
“I’m not going to marry anytime soon, not with the way things are developing with the Camorra.”
“When will Sofia find out?”
“Dad will talk to her tomorrow first thing in the morning. Danilo insists on it. He also insists we up the number of guards.”
“He doesn’t want history to repeat itself, I suppose,” I said softly.
Samuel stiffened. I pinched him lightly. “Stop it.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because you were feeling guilty again, and I want you to stop. I want things to go back to how they were before.”
“I want that too,” Samuel said. We both knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
Samuel was already gone when I woke the next morning. He’d always been a late riser, but that, too, seemed to have changed. I slipped out of bed and dressed before I left my room. Instead of heading downstairs, I moved down the hallway to Sofia’s room and knocked. My stomach tightened painfully.
“Come in!” she called.
Frowning at her chipper tone, I slipped in. Sofia lay on her stomach, her ankles crossed. She was drawing. When she spotted me, she flushed. I walked toward her and perched on the edge of the bed. Her arms covered her drawing, and I tilted my head.
“I wanted to talk to you about Danilo. I assume Dad already talked to you?”
She gave a tentative nod, biting her lip. “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” I echoed, confused.
“Because Danilo wants to marry me now and not you.”
The tightness left my chest. That was what they told Sofia. Good. I regarded her closely. “No. I’m not. I want you to be happy. Are you okay?”
She bit her lip again and gave a small nod. With an embarrassed smile, she pulled her hand away from her drawing. It was her name and Danilo’s over and over again.
Surprise washed over me. “You like him?”
Her cheeks blasted with heat. “I’m sorry. I liked him even when you were promised to him. He’s cute and chivalrous.”
I kissed the top of her head. Was I this innocent once? This hopeful and clueless?
I pulled back and gave her a stern look. “He’s a grown man, Sofia. It’ll be many years before you’ll marry him. He won’t come anywhere near you until then.”
She nodded. “I know. Dad told me.” She sounded disappointed. So beautifully innocent. I stroked her hair.
“So we’re okay?” she asked.
“Better than okay,” I said then stood and left my little sister to her daydreaming. I missed the days when I thought a knight in shining armor riding a white stallion would steal my first kiss.
Instead a monster had claimed me, body and soul.
My stomach led me downstairs, but I paused when I spotted Danilo in the foyer. I assumed he’d gone over the details of his engagement to my sister with my parents and Dante. For some reason, I was furious. Sofia might be happy, but she didn’t know the extent of her promise. Of course she would have been promised to someone eventually but not as a consolation prize because the Mancinis wanted Dante’s niece.
I walked straight toward him. His face flickered with regret and self-hatred as he looked at me. “Sofia is a girl. How could you agree to that bond, Danilo?”
His expression flashed with anger. “She is a child. Too young for me. She’s my sister’s age for God’s sake. But you know what’s expected. And we won’t marry until she’s of age. I never touched you and I won’t touch her.”
“You should have chosen someone else. Not Sofia.”
Tension shot through his body. “I didn’t choose her. I chose you. But you were taken from me, and now I have no choice but to marry your sister even though it’s you I want!”
A sharp intake of breath made us both look up at Sofia, who was standing on the highest stair, watching us with wide hurt eyes. Her chin wobbled and she whirled around, storming off.
“Damn it,” Danilo muttered. He made a move as if to follow, but I grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“I should talk to her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Danilo pulled back, his expression back to being controlled, calm, poised. “I should apologize.”
“I’m not sure she’ll talk to you. But we can try,” I said quietly. I led him upstairs, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered on my throat. I hadn’t covered the marks this morning.
I pointed at Sofia’s door, and Danilo knocked firmly.
“Go away!”
“Sofia,” Danilo said calmly. “Can I talk to you?”
It was silent behind the door for a long time. Danilo’s brows drew together.
“She’s probably trying to clean up her face so you don’t see her tears.”
He gave a small nod and again glanced at my throat. I sighed and looked away.
“I will protect her. I won’t fail her like I failed you,” Danilo muttered.
My eyes shot up but the door opened in that moment. Sofia stood in the doorway, looking shy and embarrassed. Her eyes moved from Danilo to me, and I gave her a smile.
She flushed when she raised her eyes to Danilo.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked.
Sofia looked at me for permission.
“Sure,” I said. I knew custom forbade girls from being alone with men, but Sofia was eleven and Danilo had always been a perfect gentleman with me.
Sofia walked back into her room and perched on her plush pink sofa. Danilo followed her inside, leaving the door open. His eyes took in her pink girly room, and I could see how uncomfortable he was. He sank down on the sofa with as much distance between them as the piece of furniture allowed. He looked out of place in the room, like a giant beside her. The contrast couldn’t have been bigger: Sofia in her pink dress with her boisterous nature, and Danilo in his black pants and black dress shirt with his cool demeanor. He had already seemed so much older to me, but in comparison to Sofia?
Not that she seemed to mind. She was peering up at him with so much childish adoration that even my crushed heart sang with joy. I hoped she could hold on to it for a long time. I took a few steps back and gave them a moment of privacy. Two minutes later, Danilo stepped back out. He ran a hand through his dark hair. His eyes met mine, and again I saw the flash of longing and fury.
“And?”
He gave a terse nod. “I think I managed to convince her I said those things to make it easier for you.”
“Good,” I said.
Danilo shook his head, his brows drawing together. “Nothing is good about this situation, Serafina, and I’m surprised that from all of us you are the one who seems to be dealing with it the best.”
I stiffened. “I just want things to return to normal. That’s all.”
He nodded tiredly. “They won’t, but I understand. I need to go now.” He left without another word. I waited until his tall form had disappeared before I stepped into Sofia’s room. “Everything okay?”
She was still sitting on the sofa, staring down at her hands. “I think so,” she said thoughtfully.
“You will be the most beautiful bride, I just know it.”
Her eyes lit up. “You think?”
“I know it.” My chest ached for what I’d lost, for what I could never have, especially not with the man who had my heart.
CHAPTER 22
REMO
Roger’s Arena was packed for my fight as I strode in. Nino followed close behind as we walked toward the booth where Adamo, Savio, Kiara, Leona, and Fabiano were waiting. I was already in my fight shorts, and my body thrummed with barely contained bloodlust.
Roger helped behind the bar for once and gave me a nod in greeting, which I returned. The audience was throwing glances my way, eager, curious, terrified. My fights were always particularly popular—for those who could stomach them. Griffin looked fucking ecstatic as he noted the bets down.
“Who are the unlucky souls you’ll fight?” Savio asked curiously.
“Ask Nino.” I didn’t care who they were. I’d rip them to shreds either way.
“Two ex-cons. Both on the run. Both in desperate need of money and new identities. Out of options,” Nino said matter-of-factly. “One of them kicked his pregnant wife half to death and she lost the baby. Already served a sentence because of manslaughter. The other spent half of his life in jail for child molestation.”
“Sounds like they deserve their death sentence,” Fabiano said with a grin, his arm wrapped around Leona and she smiled up at him in adoration. The sight spiked my fury, and I focused on the cage. “They will wish for the death penalty when I’m done with them.”
The ref called out my name, and I walked through the parting crowd toward the cage and the two dead men waiting for me inside.
The crowd roared and clapped, ecstatic. I swung myself into the cage and assessed my opponents. One of them was taller and broader than me. Maybe I could imagine it was Luca. It would add a nice thrill. The other was short but bull-like, and his stance suggested he was a boxer. Both looked like they knew how to pack a punch. Good.
The moment the fight began, they attacked together. I gripped the short one and rammed my knee into his side but was grabbed from behind by the giant. Short guy scrambled toward me and landed a punch in my stomach. I jerked my head forward and smashed it against his. He staggered and I kicked out against his chest, catapulting myself and the fucker who held me from behind. We crashed into the cage, and I jumped out of Big Guy’s hold. Whirling around, I pushed off the ground and flying-kicked his fucking face, breaking nose, chin, and cheekbone. Blood splattered everywhere, and he fell backward, holding his face. That would keep him busy for a while.
I turned toward Short Guy and smiled. The audience roared. They knew that smile. The look in my opponent’s eyes was familiar: panic and horrified realization. I stalked toward him, and he raised his fists. I feigned an attack, causing him to stumble back. I chuckled. This was going to be fun. I lunged at him, kicking and punching hard without mercy. The cries of the crowd and the fucking whimpers of my opponent spurred me on, but the fucking hollowness in my chest remained. I kicked him over and over again until everything was red. When he didn’t even twitch anymore, I let up.
The other guy had his back turned to me and was shaking the cage door, wanting out.
“No one’s going to open that door. If you want out of this cage, you’ll have to kill me.”
Big Guy turned, face swollen and bloody. He tried his best. Soon I had him in a choke hold, and then I smashed his face against the cage. Once. Twice, and then over and over again. I couldn’t fucking stop. I needed to crush something.
“Remo.”
Smash.
“Remo!”
Smash.
A hand gripped my shoulder and ripped me backward. I released the bloody pulp and stared at Nino. His face was splattered with small red dots. Blood.
I glanced down at myself then at the floor. It was silent in the arena and everyone was staring at me in open horror.
“I won,” I muttered.
Nino shook his head. “Come.”
I followed him out of the cage and toward the changing room. The crowd parted even wider. The stench of vomit hung heavy in the air. Griffin was pressing a fucking tissue over his mouth.
Inside the changing room, I stripped off my drenched fight shorts, leaving a red trail on the ground as I stepped inside the shower. The hot water remained red for a long while, and Nino watched me the entire time from his spot on the bench, his elbows propped up on his thighs.
“Like what you see?”
He didn’t say anything, and it was starting to piss me off.
Grabbing a towel, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. “Say what you’ve got to say.”
Nino regarded me with a small frown. “Is this because of Serafina? Do I have to worry?”
My lips pulled wide. “I don’t have a heart that can be broken, Nino. Stop the fucking hovering.”
“She won’t come back to you, Remo. She’ll try to find her way back into the Outfit where she thinks she belongs. If you wait for her to come to you freely, you’ll be met with disappointment.”
I bent low, meeting his eyes. “I don’t care if she comes back or not. There are whores to fuck, Outfit bastards to kill, and the fucking Bratva to piss off.”
I got dressed in the pants Nino handed me. Then we left. Part of the crowd had already left, the others were whispering quietly. Nino led me toward the booth, but only Savio was there, and he regarded me like I had risen straight from Hell. “Where is ev
eryone?”
“Well,” Savio muttered. “Kiara and Adamo are probably busy throwing up, and Fabiano and Leona went outside with them to keep watch.”
Nino’s frown deepened at the mentioning of Kiara. We headed outside and found them all in the parking lot beside our cars. Adamo sat on the hood of Nino’s car, smoking. Kiara was bent over behind the trunk, heaving, and Fabiano had his arm wrapped around Leona’s shoulder, who looked a little faint.
Nino went over to his wife and rubbed her back.
Fabiano shook his head. “What the hell, Remo?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve seen me do worse. We tortured together.” And after what he’d done to his father, he really had no business being shocked by me losing control.
Savio snorted. “We’ve all seen you torture, but you never lost control like that. Take a look at the video footage and if your expression doesn’t scare even you shitless then I don’t know what to say.” He went over to Adamo and took the cigarette from him, taking a deep pull.
“You don’t smoke,” Adamo grumbled.
“I need to get rid of the vomit taste in my mouth.”
“Don’t tell me you threw up as well,” I said.
Savio cocked his eyebrow. “No. But when people around me started ejecting their food, I could practically taste it in my mouth.”
I felt Fabiano’s eyes on me and met his gaze, daring him to say something. He didn’t. Adamo couldn’t meet my eyes, and I didn’t have the necessary patience tonight to deal with him. Maybe tomorrow. Nino finally managed to calm Kiara, who leaned into him, pale and sweaty. She locked eyes with me. It wasn’t disgust or fear I saw in her gaze but compassion and understanding, and it sent a new wave of rage through me.
“Keys,” I ordered, holding out my hands to Nino.
