Shielded Wrongs: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 4)

by Adelaide Forrest

  Not until I got my handcuffs from the bedroom.

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry, but tell him he’ll want Ryker to be ready and waiting,” I added, hanging up the phone.

  Backing into my bedroom, I got my handcuffs.

  At least they were being used for something.

  6

  Sadie

  I tapped my fingers on my cheek and heaved out a sigh as I waited. Not wanting to take my eyes off the dude on my floor, confliction filled me.

  I hated sitting still.

  That was enemy number one, but the blood-stained sheets, wall, and carpet begged me to break out the bleach. The coffee table had also shifted a few inches to the side when his face used it as a landing strip of the less fun variety. The indentations in the carpet where the legs once sat looked like red pools as they filled with the blood dripping out of his nose.

  The need to move the coffee table back, and the inability to do so, drove me up the wall until my pacing reached a new speed. I kept my distance, tapping my fingers on my thigh in a steady rhythm.

  One. Pause.

  Two. Pause.

  Three. Pause.

  Four. Pause.

  Five. Pause.

  I waited, and then I started over. When the man groaned and struggled against his hands cuffed behind his back, I fought the temptation to hit him in the head again. Matteo would want him alive for Ryker to play with.

  Temporarily.

  His groans grew louder as he became more aware with every second that passed. I didn’t have any neighbors in my apartment above the gym who could hear his increasing struggles, but that didn’t mean his voice wasn’t annoying as fuck. Pathetic as only a man could really be. Why wasn’t there a word for man hurt? Mansick didn’t quite apply.

  I went to my bedroom, grabbing a pair of Patrick’s boxers off the top of the open box of his that sat and waited for him to take back.

  It wasn’t like I could gag the dude with my own underwear.

  I stepped up to his head, pinching his bloody nose until he mouth-breathed all over me like the nasty thing he was. Shoving the boxers into his rancid face hole, I stepped back and fought the gag that pinched my throat.

  I’d washed the boxers before shoving them in the box.

  Shame.

  Matteo’s knock on my door was anything but subtle, and I stepped over to let in the Bellandi brigade. Ivory’s body collided with mine in a rush, propelling me back into the room so quickly that I almost fell on my ass. “Woah,” I laughed. “I told you, I’m fine.”

  “You were attacked!” she hissed, pulling back to look at me. Her brow furrowed. “Weren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, watching as the men stepped in. Matteo and Ryker led the charge, with Scar and Simon hot on their heels. Two more followed them, seeming vaguely familiar from my time spent around the Bellandi Estate, and my small apartment felt microscopic as it filled with too-large male bodies that didn’t belong in my space.

  Matteo gave me a quick glance over, seeming to determine I was safe enough and unharmed despite the circumstance that brought him to my personal haven for the first time. “What’s that in his mouth?” he asked, bending down to inspect the dude with the twitchy eyeballs. He’d wake up soon enough.

  “Patrick’s boxers,” I said. The other men in the room huffed out a laugh in perfect unison, no doubt amused by my choice of gag.

  “You good, Short Stuff?” Ryker asked, his blue eyes studying my face and looking for a sign of weakness he wouldn’t find. Simon paced around the main living area, studying everything in that observant way any decent bodyguard had. Scar tested the lock on the door, leaning down to examine the doorknob before he straightened and closed it behind him.

  “I’m good, Meatball. Assuming you guys are going to clean up the blood. It just does not go well with my color palette.” I waved a hand dismissively, disguising the genuine concern I felt over the stains. The Bellandis didn’t need to know.

  Ryker laughed. “Yeah, she’s good. Got anything?” His attention shifted to Scar as quickly as it had settled on me.

  “Picked the lock,” Scar confirmed. “Scuff marks and dents around the keyhole on the outside. Minor though, so our guy knew what he was doing.”

  Stepping over to the body, Ryker hauled him up into his arms and slung him over his shoulder. It seemed the stalker was in a hurry to get back to the warehouse and get his interrogation underway.

  “Did he say anything to you before you bashed his head in?” Scar asked, and I watched the gears turn in his deep brown eyes.

  “Just that he was going to bring me back to Murphy black and blue. We didn’t exactly sit down and have a tea party with crumpets.” Scar leveled me with a glare that probably made weak men shiver in their boots.

  But I was no man, and I definitely wasn’t weak.

  Matteo cleared his throat, pressing his lips together to hide the quirk of a smile that threatened to consume him. Scar shifted his attention back to his boss as he spoke, listening intently for anything that might affect his ability to do his job. Protecting my best friend, who happened to be Matteo’s wife, from certain death at the hand of their enemies. “This is Bryan. He’s going to keep an eye on you from now on until things settle down and we have a better idea of where we stand. You shouldn’t have been Murphy’s first real move against us,” Matteo said. He scratched the stubble on his cheek thoughtfully, shaking his head in annoyance before coming over to wrap Ivory in his arms. “For what it’s worth, I wish we’d seen it coming and had you protected. We won’t make that mistake again.”

  “I’m out!” Ryker called as he stepped into the hallway.

  The man had a brain. If only Matteo had been that smart.

  “Um, fuck no?” I asked, glancing at Ivory. Had she lost her ever-loving mind that she thought I’d be okay with a babysitter?

  “Ivory wants you to come stay with us. I do not think that would be wise, seeing how I’d probably feed you to Ryker by the end of the week,” Matteo admitted. “You would still need security while you were out of the house, at any rate. And since we know you won’t just stay put when I tell you to, that means I have to allocate a man to you.”

  “Please, Sadie. Do this for me,” Ivory begged. “This will get ugly and you were already attacked in your home. You need protection if they’re going to come after everyone we love like this.”

  “Did you miss the part where I defended myself just fine? I’m not sure if you noticed, but he is the one who is concussed. Because I bashed his head in with a bat. He has a broken arm and probably leg too. I’m just fine on my own,” I told her, waving my hands in the air as I spoke. She eyed them and backed off, seeing the writing on the wall.

  “She’s pissed,” Ivory said to Matteo.

  “Thank you, Angel. I deduced as much on my own,” he whispered to her with affection and amusement tinting his voice.

  “Miss Hicks, I can sleep on the couch. I’ll try to be as unobtrusive as I can,” Bryan said.

  “Look, Bry. There is no way that anybody is sleeping on my couch. I live alone for a good reason. I will walk from my bathroom to my bedroom, ass naked. I am not Chef Ivory over here, and I am not going to feed you. You are not staying here, or I will send your balls back to your mama before the night is out.” I couldn’t have a houseguest. They touched things, moved things from the place where they belonged. There was no way I could live with someone and not have them notice how particular I was.

  “Unfortunately for Bryan, he takes orders from me,” Matteo inserted.

  “Right, so I hope you know that I will sneak out every chance I get. I will draw dicks on his face while he sleeps, and I’ll steal his clothes while he’s in the shower for good measure. Are you sure he’s up to the task? He seems a little green to me. I promise you I will attempt to torment him every second of the day if you leave him here.”

  Matteo glared at me, and there was a pause while I returned the look. He might be able to seduce Ivory into a puddle of submi
ssion, but I wouldn’t be so easily swayed.

  Yuck.

  “Bryan, go home,” he said finally, surveying me as he tugged his phone from the pocket of the jeans he’d slipped on before coming here. The other man looked grateful before he slipped out the door like he’d escaped punishment.

  Even I had to admit he had.

  “You promised me you’d protect her!” Ivory whispered, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “Oh, she’ll be protected all right. I already know I’m going to regret this. Fucking woman will be the death of me,” he muttered as he stepped out the front door of the apartment. The other man I didn’t know followed him, a silent sentry to guard him while Simon and Scar stayed with us.

  “Love you too!” I called as the door closed behind him. “Who’s he calling?” I asked, watching as Ivory bounced on her heels. “Do you have to pee?”

  “No, I do not have to pee. Stop acting like I’m pregnant. I’m not,” she said.

  I raised my brow at her. “Yet.”

  “Hush,” she scolded. She slid over to the door, pressing her ear to it as she tried to listen to her husband on the phone. Her full lips twisted into a pout when she couldn’t hear Matteo’s side of the conversation, glaring at me.

  “Well?” I asked, turning my back on Scar as he raised his eyes to the ceiling and mumbled under his breath. Despite his annoyance with me, a slight smile played at his lips at Ivory’s antics, their unique bond strong enough to overcome even my presence.

  “Nothing. I can’t hear a damn thing. I don’t understand why he’s keeping secrets like this. I want to know who’s coming!” she said.

  She jumped back when Matteo opened the door carefully. He knew Ivory well enough to know she’d be trying to eavesdrop. She wasn’t exactly discreet. “Who did you call?” she asked.

  He leveled her with a look that said she needed to learn some patience. The oaf of a man preaching patience was ridiculous, given the way he’d taken Ivory without care for giving her the time she needed to adjust to being with him. “You should pack a bag, Sadie. Staying here is a security threat. I can’t see your new babysitter letting that fly.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I argued, crossing my arms over my chest and staring him down. I wasn’t sure if the prospect of having a houseguest was worse, or if the thought of going to live with a stinky, messy man was my worst nightmare.

  Nope. Not happening.

  “Suit yourself. I’m not the one who will have to deal with the consequences of not doing what you’re told. I suggest you at least put some more clothes on. I don’t imagine you’ll want him to throw you on the back of his bike in shorts.”

  “I have time.” I shrugged. Nobody, even in the middle of the night, could get through Chicago traffic so quickly.

  “You have less than five minutes. He was close, and traffic isn’t an issue for his bike.” Matteo flopped down onto my couch, making himself comfortable as he waited on whatever fucking friend he was so confident I wouldn’t torment.

  “I’ll just make him miserable too, you know? It doesn’t matter who you assign to me. I will make it my mission to drive them crazy,” I said.

  He smirked, glancing up at me with vivid blue eyes. “I’d like to see you try to get away with that shit with him.” Scar chuckled in the corner, the sound ominous. Scar adored me, really. He just liked to torment me.

  “Go put on a bra at least,” Ivory said. “Trust me when I say you’ll want the girls up where they belong—”

  “Don’t even start,” Matteo warned. “He is here to protect her, not be her plaything.”

  “After all I did for you.” I gasped in mock indignation, pressing a hand to my chest. That he could think so little of me.

  Like I cared.

  I went to put on a bra anyway, because after Ivory drew attention to it, I felt weird being in a room with Matteo without one. I grimaced at her as I stepped back into the living room.

  Bras were the devil.

  The knock on the door sent Ivory springing to her feet as she raced for it. Peeking through the hole, she grinned as she spun back to look at me.

  It really said something about our lives that she could smile so happily while blood stained the carpet next to my feet.

  She tugged the door open, stepping aside for the powerhouse of a man to step over the threshold. He emerged from the shadows of the hallway, stepping into the well-lit room and towering over me as he approached. It took a big man to stand in the same room as Matteo and Scar and not seem small.

  He managed.

  Motorcycle boots covered his feet and jeans hugged his legs in that oh-so-sexy but not quite tight way. The black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders couldn’t contain the beast of a man who wore it.

  “Sadie, this is Lorenzo Vescovi,” Ivory gushed, knowing that the sound of the name would turn me into a puddle of goop.

  “Enzo,” I whispered, staring up at the hazel eyes that stared down at me as he stepped closer.

  “Hello, Carina,” he said in a deep rumble of a voice.

  Fuck.

  7

  Enzo

  She hit me like a punch to the gut without ever putting her hands on me. A crop top revealed the taut lines of her stomach, where they curved into the graceful slope of her hips. When her honey-colored eyes went round and her mouth parted open in shock, my fingers twitched at my sides, wanting nothing more than to grab her around the back of her thighs, lift her into my arms, and cart her into the bedroom.

  The only things that stopped me were the watchful eyes of Ivory and Matteo.

  She couldn't have even been five feet tall, and it seemed impossible for someone so tiny to have such an impact that it felt like my world tilted on its axis. For all the stories I’d heard of Sadie, all the times her antics came up in casual conversation, nothing could have prepared me for the little spitfire gaping up at me.

  One trace of perfect white teeth sinking into the plump flesh of her bottom lip was all it took for her to wrap me around her finger. To own me, totally and completely.

  I hadn't understood it. I'd never been able to wrap my head around the way the other guys lost their mind over one woman until that moment.

  But the mass of dark brown waves surrounding tawny skin and the bone structure magazines had to airbrush onto models knocked me back a step. It rendered me speechless.

  Until the moment my eyes landed on the bloody handprint on the doorway behind her, on the size of those long fingers that had curled around the wood and left a stain on her life. The puddles of blood at her feet made my nostrils flare and my eyelids twitch, but when I dragged my eyes over her body, I found no trace of a single injury.

  Nothing to show she'd been attacked.

  Given the injuries of her attacker that Matteo relayed over the phone, there was no way she could have walked away unscathed. When she turned her head to look away from my face and studied Ivory with wide, incredulous eyes, her best friend grinned back at her like it was Christmas morning. The faintest hint of a thumb shaped bruise tinted the side of her throat.

  A growl rumbled in my chest, but I shoved it down in the interest of not scaring her. She didn't know me.

  Not yet.

  "Go pack a bag," I ordered, my voice a little gruffer than I intended. Something about the woman called to the monster under my skin and filled me with the intense need to claim. To make her mine.

  Her lips twisted into a disbelieving smirk, her face filling with defiance as that bone structure hardened and she pouted her lips at me. "Hard pass on that, Lorenzo," she murmured thoughtfully, her voice dropping a level when she twisted my name around and made it hers.

  I hated that name. I'd despised it since I'd been a boy.

  But when she said it? I wanted to fuck her until she screamed it at the top of her lungs.

  "I'm cozy in my own home, thanks," she added, glancing at Matteo with a knowing grin. He glared back at her as my face split into a smile of my own. The little fucking
minx knew exactly what she was doing. “What about Duke? I suppose his dick automatically protects him from attack?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and throwing Matteo a challenging glare.

  “I’ll put someone on the asshole too.” Grabbing my arm with a growl, Matteo dragged me back into the hall and left the girls in the apartment with Simon and Scar. Only Rocco followed us into the hall, minding his own business and doing his best not to listen in on a conversation he knew was well beyond his concerns with Matteo’s safety.

  I stared at the door even after he'd closed it and cut off my view of my Carina.

  "Be on your guard. Remember, she's the one who taught Ivory how to stab a man in the neck," he grunted, waving a finger in my face until he had my full attention.

  "Might like it," I grinned back at him. "Never know until I try."

  "Do not even think about it," he warned, stepping into my space like he could intimidate me with his size. He may be taller than me. He may be the Matteo Bellandi, but I'd have something he didn't.

  The motivation of fighting for my woman.

  "I do not need to deal with the consequences when that crashes and burns," he said, tipping his head to the ceiling.

  I gave a noncommittal grunt, having absolutely no intention of doing what I was told for once. I liked to follow the rules set forth by my superior officers. Always had, and a part of me always would.

  But not when someone tried to get in my way with Sadie. The woman was mine, even if she didn't know it yet. Even if I didn’t even understand it myself.

  Whatever Matteo saw in my grunt and shrug seemed to appease him, and he opened the door to the apartment. Ivory and Sadie jumped up from the couch, where the latter’s arms had waved about frantically in her desire to lay down some limit with her best friend. I suspected it had something to do with getting rid of me, but she didn't realize that would never happen.