Born in Blood Collection Volume 1: Collection of books 1-4

by Cora Reilly

  A group of three girls with colorful hair was singing and playing the guitar at the next corner, and I headed for them. When they finally took a break, I approached them. I really hoped they spoke English. They looked to be my age. “Hey. I was wondering if you know of any places where I could do what you do and sing for people? I’m out of money and this is pretty much my only shot at paying for a room tonight.”

  The girls exchanged a look and I was half convinced they hadn’t understood me when the girl with short blue hair said in an accent I couldn’t decipher, “You need a permission. The authorities are pretty strict in Munich. They’ll fine you if you make music or any kind of other art in the streets without permission.”

  “Damn. Is it easy to get a permission?”

  The pink-haired girl shook her head. “No. They only hand out a few permissions and they make sure you can sing and actually play instruments before they allow you to make music here.”

  I sighed and slumped against the wall of the building. The three girls exchanged another look then whispered in a language that definitely wasn’t German before they turned to me. “We’re sharing a small apartment. If you want you can sleep on the couch in the living room until you find a job and can afford your own place.”

  My eyes widened. “Really?”

  Blue-haired girl nodded with a smile. “You’re a backpacker, right?”

  “Yes. Traveling through Europe before college.”

  “We’re all from Croatia, but we’ve been spending the last few months in Munich. You’ll love it.” Pink-haired girl stood. “So what’s your name?”

  I hesitated a moment before deciding who I wanted to be. “Gwen.”

  Maybe Munich would finally become a place I could stay and figure out what I’d do with the rest of my life.

  * * *

  What was meant to be for a few days only had turned into two months. I was still sharing an apartment with the three crazy girls from Croatia. We’d become friends and I paid rent for my spot on the sofa, albeit not much. Of course every part of my life was built on lie after lie, but sometimes I almost forgot that I wasn’t who I pretended to be. I’d even found a job as a waitress in a café that catered mostly to tourists and my German had improved greatly.

  Now that I’d finally found a place where I wanted to stay, I’d decided to give dating a real shot. When my flat mates introduced me to Sid, a fellow musician from Canada with long dreadlocks, I knew he was someone I could get used to, and maybe even make me forget that stupid kiss I’d shared with Matteo.

  Sid was nothing like Matteo. He was nothing like men in the world I’d grown up in. He was a vegan, peace-loving idealist, and he never hesitated to convince others of his ideals. He could spend hours talking about the horrors of dairy farms and the dangers of the NRA. Sometimes I wondered what he’d say if he knew who I was.

  This idealistic world-improver was his mask, I’d realized. Maybe everyone wore some kind of mask. What had been a novelty and endearing in the beginning, quickly started to annoy me. Still I couldn’t break up with Sid because it would seem like the ultimate failure. If even someone like Sid couldn’t stop me from thinking about Matteo, who could?

  Sid’s hand crept under my shirt then unhooked my bra. I made a sound of protest. We were in the living room of my shared apartment, so if one of my flat mates returned she’d get a show. His fingertips were rough from playing the guitar. He pushed me down until I lay flat on my back and he was half on top of me. His tongue seemed to take up too much space in my mouth and he tasted of stale smoke. Why had I thought a smoking guy was hot? Maybe in theory, but the taste and stink weren’t something I was too excited about. He started unbuttoning my jeans and kept rubbing his bulge against my leg like a horny dog.

  “I want you, Gwen,” Sid rasped, already trying to shove my pants down my legs. Gwen. For the first time, the name didn’t make me pause. Two months using the same name seemed to be the magic barrier for getting used to a new identity. Pity that I got the feeling I wouldn’t use it for much longer. Munich was getting too comfortable, and Sid was simply getting too much. He was being too pushy.

  “Not yet,” I gritted out, trying to hide my boredom and annoyance. It wasn’t his fault that I wasn’t into our make-out sessions. We’d been going out for almost four weeks, so it wasn’t really all that surprising that he wanted to sleep with me. And I wasn’t even sure what the hell was stopping me. Sid wasn’t a bad guy. He could be funny after he’d drunk a couple of beers or had a few drags of pot, and his guitar play and singing weren’t even half bad. And yet I didn’t want to commit to this relationship fully, didn’t want to go another step. Before I’d run off from home, I’d thought I’d jump into bed with every guy I met once I was free of my bodyguards; to spite Matteo and my father, more than anything else, so what was stopping me?

  “Come on, Gwen. I’ll make it good for you,” he said as he tried to shove his hand into my panties.

  I clamped my legs shut and pushed his hand away. I didn’t want him to touch me there. For some reason the idea that he’d be the first to do that made me sick. “I’m really not in the mood. And I’m getting my period,” I said to stop him from bitching around anymore. It was a fucking lie. The stress of the last few months had pretty much stopped me from having much of a period at all.

  But he didn’t know that. I just wanted this make-out session to be over, so I could grab my laptop and figure out where to run off to next. Sid would find a new girl quickly. His cute Canadian accent, laid-back nature and dreadlocks were a huge hit among German girls.

  He didn’t even bother hiding his annoyance, which in turn really made me want to push him off and tell him it was over. “You’re never in the mood,” Sid grumbled. “Jerk me off at least.”

  Anger shot through me at his demand. When I didn’t react, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. Where was the peace-loving idealist now?

  With a bang, the door flew open. Before either Sid or I could move, three men stalked in. Matteo was one of them. Oh holy shit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gianna

  Matteo was first to enter, his dark hair messy and wet from the rainstorm raging outside, his white shirt plastered to his upper body. In that moment, I almost felt silly for thinking I could ever forget him. He was more man than all the guys I’d met combined. His dark eyes settled on me, then on my hand, which was still pressed against Sid’s crotch. There really was no question what he’d walked in on, and his face twisted with fury.

  “What the fuck, dudes?” Sid shouted.

  “Shut up, shut up,” I wanted to scream. I didn’t get the chance. Matteo crossed the room in a few steps, grabbed Sid by the arm and hauled him off me. Sid landed on the floor hard, face twisting with pain, then anger. Matteo towered over me, nostrils flaring, eyes almost black, and a look in them that made me want to hide. I met his gaze straight on. He wanted to scare me. My fear was something I’d never give him.

  Sid stumbled to his feet and almost lost his fucking pants. He must have unzipped them at some point to make it “easier” for me. He headed for Matteo. I jumped to my feet, knowing I had to intervene before things got even worse.

  “Get out of this apartment or I’ll call the fucking cops,” Sid said.

  God, no.

  Matteo sent me a look that made me realize just how dangerous this situation was. Not for me, but for someone who should have never gotten dragged into the fucking misery that was mob life.

  “He doesn’t mean it,” I blurted.

  Sid glared. “The fuck I do.” For the moment, he seemed to have forgotten about his peace-loving ideals.

  Matteo hadn’t pulled his weapons yet. I wanted to convince myself that it was a good sign but a glimpse at the two men with him made my heart plummet into my shoes. They were both my father’s men and they had already closed the door and were standing beside it with expressionless faces. A closed door was never a good thing. Nothing I could say would change their
minds because they were acting on my father’s orders. They would do what he’d told them. There was only one person who could help me now.

  Sid got right into Matteo’s face as if he wanted to punch him. Matteo didn’t even twitch, only stared down at Sid with the scariest look I’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes. Even without knowing who Matteo was, Sid must have sensed just how dangerous the man in front of him was. Sid took a step back, his eyes darting between Matteo and me. I jerked into motion and stepped between Matteo and him. “He doesn’t know anything. Please, just let him leave.”

  My father’s men laughed and one of them murmured something that sounded remarkably like “slut.” Matteo’s expression darkened even further. My father’s men were watching him expectantly. I’d insulted Matteo by running away, and worse by being with another man. In our world there was only one thing a man in Matteo’s position could do to protect his honor. I’d only ever seen Matteo with some variation of an arrogant smile on his face, but there was no trace of amusement now.

  “I should probably go,” Sid said suddenly, backing away. “This got nothing to do with me.”

  Coward. The moment the thought crossed my mind, I felt bad. Running was really the only sensible thing for him to do. He couldn’t protect me from Matteo or my father’s men, but that he wasn’t even going to try was something I could and would never understand.

  One of my father’s men, Stan or something like that if I remembered him correctly, grabbed Sid by the arms. Sid started struggling like a madman, but it was obvious he’d never had a fight in his life. Stan laughed, ripped Sid’s arms back sharply then rammed his knees into Sid’s back. With a cry, Sid fell to his knees, only held upright by Stan’s grip.

  “Hey! Stop it,” I shouted, wanting to rush toward them, but Matteo snatched my arm, jerking me to a stop. I whirled on him, on the verge of snarling into his face but stopped myself. He was Sid’s only chance, regardless of how ridiculous that sounded.

  “Please,” I said, even though begging left a bitter taste in my mouth. Matteo’s dark eyes didn’t even flicker as he peered down at me. Expecting him to help me after what I’d done was preposterous. “Don’t kill him. Just let him go. He’s not a danger.”

  “You want me to spare the fucker who had his fucking hands all over you? You let that sucker have what’s mine and want me to let him walk away? That’s what you want from me?” Matteo asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

  I swallowed down a nasty retort. I wasn’t his, would never be. Nothing I had done with Sid was Matteo’s business. Even if I had fucked Sid, that still wouldn’t have been his fucking business. Even if I’d fucked every single guy I’d met that still wouldn’t have been his business. I needed to tell him that I hadn’t slept with Sid. Maybe it would placate him if he knew I hadn’t given everything away. His ego would love that there was still something he could take from me. Pride kept my lips sealed.

  “We should head out. Someone might have heard when we kicked the door in. Let’s get rid of this asshole and move on,” Stan said, knocking his knee into Sid’s back again. Sid’s eyes were huge as they flitted back and forth between us.

  “Silence,” Matteo said sharply and Stan snapped his lips shut.

  I reached for Matteo’s arm, my fingers digging into the damp material of his dress shirt, feeling the hard muscles beneath. I had to swallow my fucking pride if I wanted to save Sid’s life. “Matteo, it’s not—”

  My words were cut short by the sonic crack of a suppressed gunshot. I froze, eyes flying to the source of the noise. The other Made Man was pointing a Glock with a silencer at the spot where Sid’s head had been moments before. He was slumped forward, head hanging limply and blood dripping to the ground. Stan let go of Sid’s arms. The body toppled over and landed on the ground with a resounding thud. I stared and stared. Slowly my hand slid down Matteo’s arm.

  “Did I give you the fucking order to kill him?” Matteo snarled.

  “This was Outfit business. As long as she isn’t married to you, she falls under our jurisdiction and so did the asshole here.” Stan kicked Sid’s lifeless form. I flinched. Inside a beast was raging, wanting to claw Stan’s fucking eyes out, wanting to kill them all, but I was paralyzed.

  Blood spread out around Sid’s head, soaking his dreadlocks. My stomach constricted. I’d seen that much blood only three times before. The first time when Luca cut off Raffaele’s finger; the second time on Luca’s shirt after he’d dealt with the guy who’d drugged Aria; and the third time when the Russians had attacked us. It didn’t get easier as some people said, as even I had suspected. I had a feeling it never would.

  Stan nodded toward me. “What about other witnesses? You don’t live here alone.”

  I blinked, terror gripping me so hard I could barely breathe. I couldn’t let them kill my flat mates as well. The girls had been nothing but kind to me. They didn’t deserve that. My eyes found Matteo. His gaze searched my face before he turned to my father’s men. “We’re done here.”

  Stan looked like he wanted to protest but the other guy nudged his shoulder. With a glare at me, Stan opened the door and checked the corridor. “Clear. Let’s go.”

  I turned to Sid’s body again. Matteo wrapped an arm around my waist. I didn’t look his way. I couldn’t avert my eyes from Sid as if my attention was the only thing that anchored him to life. He was long gone. Pieces of his brain dotted the red sea on the ground.

  Matteo steered me toward the door, then down the corridor. Stan was in front of us, while the other man made up the rear. Surrounded. I was surrounded. I should have tried to run away. The odds had always been against me. It had never stopped me before. Maybe this was my last chance to escape. Once back in the States, I’d be trapped. Giving up wasn’t in my nature. I’d always fought my own battles, but so far only I had to pay the price for my courage. Tonight, an innocent, someone who’d never been sullied by the darkness of my world had paid with his life for my dreams, for my wish for freedom, for my selfishness. I’d thought I could evade fate, could outrun a world of blood, but had inadvertently dragged innocents into that world.

  Could I live with that?

  I wasn’t sure.

  Maybe it was in our nature to bring misery and death to everyone around us. Maybe that was why it was best for us to stay among ourselves. Hadn’t Aria said something along those lines a long time ago?

  Aria. I’d finally see her again. That was the good news I was clinging to right now. She’d get me through this. She always did.

  Matteo’s grip on my wrist was painful. His eyes held a clear message, now that he’d caught me, he would never let me get away again.

  * * *

  Everything seemed to happen behind a fog. I was pushed into the back of a car and Matteo slipped into the back seat beside me then we drove off with squealing tires. I watched the place I’d called home for the last two months disappear. I pressed my forehead against the cold window. I hardly dared to blink. Every time I closed my eyes, crimson flashed behind my eyelids. Sid was dead because of me.

  I could hear Matteo talking to someone on the phone in the background but I couldn’t focus. Everything was over. He’d take me back to my father now, and I had no doubt that I couldn’t expect any kind of mercy. I had betrayed not only the Outfit but also New York, had made my father and Matteo lose face. I would be punished. I glanced at Matteo who was glaring at the back of the front seat. I quickly fastened my bra again and put it back in place. Of course Matteo noticed.

  I could tell he was furious. I wondered what kind of punishment he had in mind for me. I’d been on the run for six months. He couldn’t possibly want me for any other reason than revenge. I knew the rules. I wasn’t worthy of marriage anymore. Matteo probably already had a new fiancée and once he’d dealt with me, he’d move on with his life. If he’d wanted to kill me, he would have done so already. That didn’t mean Father wouldn’t do it the moment I set foot on Chicago ground.

  We pulled up in front of an airport h
otel, and Matteo turned to me, his eyes holding a clear warning. “We’ll spend the next few hours until our flight here. If you try to ask anyone for help, this will end in a bloodbath, understood?”

  I nodded. Then Matteo pulled me out of the car with him and led me inside. Nobody paid us any attention as we headed toward the elevators and rode up to the fourth floor.

  Matteo led me through the long hallway until we arrived in front of a simple white door.

  Stan and the other Outfit man stopped too. “She should come into our room with Carmine and me. She’s still part of the Outfit,” Stan said, his eyes sliding over my body. I knew what he and the other guy would do to me if I came into a room with them.

  “She’s mine. I won’t let her out of my eyes again. Now fuck off. Gianna and I have matters to discuss,” Matteo growled. He slid the keycard into the slot and opened the door.

  Stan and Carmine exchanged a look but didn’t protest. Then Stan sent me a cruel smile. “Teach her some manners.”

  Matteo dragged me into the room, kicked the door shut and fixed me with a terrifying expression. “Oh, I will.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Gianna

  Matteo flung me onto the bed. Then he was on top of me. He pressed my arms into the mattress above my head, his knees beside my thighs. His eyes were almost black with fury. Did he want me to beg for mercy? Ask him for forgiveness? Then he had a long wait coming.

  “You let someone have what’s mine,” he growled, his eyes scorching my body with their possessiveness. He leaned down as if he was going to kiss me. Our noses almost brushed but he only scowled. “Your father gave me his permission to do with you as I please. He doesn’t care if you live or die. He doesn’t care what I do to you. I think he’d even approve of me punishing you harshly.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Father had already barely tolerated me before I’d brought shame to our family by running away. Now he probably hated me like the devil. I almost wanted Matteo to hurt me. I deserved it for getting Sid killed. I knew Matteo would have no trouble hurting me. I’d seen what he was capable of. Maybe physical pain would finally drown out the anguish I felt deep inside.