Rotten Men (A Rotten Love Duet Book 2)

by Ivy Fox

  “That is where we differ, you and I. I could not kill a made man in cold blood without the Outfit’s blessing. Honor would have prevented me from doing so.”

  “You are right. That is the difference between us. Because it only confirms what I have always known to be true—you are nothing but a sheep, Vincent, while I am the wolf to be feared. Honor does not bind me. It never has,” he reckons, appalled by my sense of loyalty.

  “Not honor and not family it seems,” I spit back, just as disgusted.

  “Are you talking about yourself or my brother?”

  “Both, Ciro. You will meet your justice for betraying us both,” I vow.

  “I’d like to see you try.” He grins forebodingly.

  “Stop!!! Both of you!” Selene screams out, standing back to her feet. Before I’m able to prevent it, Ciro pulls my love into his arms, while the two capos in the room bind me still once again.

  “This is just the start, rosa,” he whispers in her ear, stroking her hair adoringly. “I will show you a world where men will kneel at your feet, and never again will anyone hurt you. You will be feared by all, cara mia; just as you were destined to be.”

  “Selene doesn’t want to be feared. She wants to be loved,” I choke out, struggling from my confinement.

  “Isn’t that what I’m offering her, though?” Ciro states matter-of-factly.

  “All you are offering her is death,” I say, glancing at the blood seeping into the carpet to make my point.

  “Take it as my first gesture of love, rosa. A start at least.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “That’s why I need her to teach me,” he adds, looking mesmerized by the woman in his arms.

  My revulsion for the lunatic before me is so strong that I break free from my henchmen, and launch myself at him, prepared to shred that loving look from his evil eyes. But Selene blocks me, placing one hand on my chest and the other on the man who has set his eyes on stealing my vita away from us yet again.

  “Ciro, please. Take me to my son,” she murmurs under wet lashes.

  He tilts his head and orders his men to hold me back once more.

  “Ciro, please. This conversation has no place right now. I want to see my son,” she insists, placing her delicate hands on both his cheeks.

  “And you will, rosa,” he promises earnestly.

  “I want to see him, too,” I demand, gaining another disgruntled curse from the deviant man.

  “Really? Am I expected to believe you care for the child, or is this all for Selene’s benefit?” he accuses.

  “Not for Selene’s, but for my own. He is mine after all.”

  The surprised, shocked look on Ciro’s face is worth every penny.

  “The boy is yours?”

  This time I’m the one who smirks, pleased with his discomfort.

  “Yes, and believe me when I say that retribution for the death of the man who raised him as his own will be made. You killed my son’s father. Even if I wasn’t made aware of all the other lives you took from me, know that you merited your end by my hands when you took James away from my son, Ciro.”

  “Hmm. I see. Well, rosa, I think this conversation has been enlightening for all of us. But this ends now,” he states point blank.

  “Take him to see the boy,” he commands, waving at his capos.

  “I’m not leaving Selene alone with you!”

  “She is in far better hands with me than she ever was with you,” he throws back at me.

  The two capos try to keep their hold on me, but I plunge my elbow in one of their guts, and he plummets to the ground, while I wrestle with my other imprisoner.

  “Nuh, huh. I wouldn’t do that, Vincent.” Ciro shouts, and I turn to see him aiming a gun to my head.

  “Ciro, don’t,” Selene begs, holding onto his waist to stop his temper. The image of her touching him in such a way wounds me more than any weapon Ciro could wield against me.

  “Selene,” I croak, and she turns her head with pleading, watering eyes.

  “Just go check on Jude, Vincent. Please,” she begs. “My son must be so frightened, and it’s tearing me up inside not knowing. Please, Vincent, if you love me at all, make sure he’s alright.”

  Broken-hearted, I nod my defeated consent.

  “If one hair of hers is out of place when I come back, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

  “Oh, cousin. Threats are only powerful when you are willing to do whatever necessary to see them through. You lack the conviction, Vincent. I don’t.”

  “Don’t fall victim to your own arrogance, Ciro. Remember that’s what blindly led Silvio to his death.”

  “Well said. I’ll make a note of your sage advice, cugino, and treasure your parting words,” he replies, then lowers his lips to kiss Selene’s head with a triumphant smile. “Take him to the boy and then place them both in the cellar. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Yes, boss,” one of the cronies replies and pulls me away, closing the door to the room that holds the only woman I have ever loved, and the only man crazy enough to steal her away from me.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Selene

  Once the door is closed, and Vincent is far from harm’s way, I lower my arms from Ciro’s waist. Unfortunately, he is intent on keeping his hold on me.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispers in my ear, summoning a cool chill to run down my spine.

  His hands stroke my back lovingly, and I try to lean into his embrace, hoping he doesn’t sense my repulsion to his touch. Ciro takes my chin into his hand and tilts my face to look up at him.

  “You are just as beautiful as the first day I saw you, rosa. The years have been good to you.”

  “I disagree. For the past ten years, I have been afraid of everyone and everything because of you,” I reply evenly.

  “You shouldn’t have run. Your place has always been at my side. Tonight we start anew, and you will see for yourself just what destiny has reserved for us,” he cajoles, running his fingers under my chin, always so tenderly.

  “All we are destined for is death, Ciro,” I murmur melancholically.

  “Not true, cara mia. Don’t let Vincent’s words leave your perfect lips again. A dead man’s last attempt to unnerve me should not have the echo of your lovely voice.”

  I lower my gaze, not able to disguise how his constant threat on Vincent’s life slays my very soul. Sensing my unease, Ciro picks my hand up and touches the back of my fingers soothingly, before lifting it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on each knuckle. I squint my eyes, as he showers me with his brand of affection.

  Once he’s somewhat satisfied, he ushers me to follow him behind my father’s desk, having us both step over the perished devil himself. Before Ciro sits down, he lifts me up with ease and sits me on the mahogany desk’s edge. He pulls his chair close enough to be able to wrap his arms around my waist, cradling his head between my breasts, breathing in my very essence.

  He’s giving me all this tenderness, but in his hesitant breath, I hear his plea for me to show him my own. I submit to his request, knowing that I need to keep him tempered long enough for Vincent to grab Jude and then come back for me. Ciro sent only two armed men with him, but if he truly knew my love as I do, he would have tripled Vincent’s escorts. Two made men stand no chance against a vengeful, angry Vincent.

  I stroke his dark blond hair, feeling the soft texture ignites my churning stomach. I bite down hard on my tongue, hoping the metallic tang of my blood keeps my bile at bay. Ciro’s shoulders relax, and his breathing evens out, sounding like a content purr. We stay like this for what feels like an eternity, but then Ciro leans back far enough to place a tender kiss on my temple, and the flare of love in his eyes terrifies me even further.

  “We must talk, bella rosa,” he coos. “You’re still upset with me. You should be happy and celebrating right now, but instead, you keep holding up your walls against me. W
hy?” he asks hopefully, and it astounds me how volatile and delusional he is.

  “Shouldn’t I be upset? You killed my husband and kidnapped my son, Ciro. I see no cause for celebration,” I answer truthfully, but my honesty only makes him chuckle.

  “I was referring to getting rid of your father, cara mia. I know that I will need to continue to make amends for the other two aggressions. And I will. Eventually,” he adds the last word with a sadistic simper, filled with his sick, twisted satisfaction.

  “You think killing my father was a suitable way of making amends for everything you put me through?” I cock my brow.

  “It is a start, is it not? We need to recommence our lives somehow. I think killing off the man who ruined us is a fine foundation to build from,” he replies, taking my hands in his, yet again placing another soft kiss.

  He can’t stop kissing me for too long, and I wonder when my fingers will no longer satisfy his hungry lips. I release my hands from his hold and place them on each of his cheeks, determined to look my nightmare in the eye.

  “We won’t be starting anything, Ciro. Not while you insist on threatening the people I love,” I explain, using the same melodic tone he is so fond of.

  “If this is about Vincent, my beautiful rose, then this will be a very short discussion. I can offer you the world, but his life is not one of the things I’m able to give. As it stands, Vincent is still the boss of the Outfit. I can no longer condone him having something that always belonged to me—my rightful chair, rosa.”

  “Then you are right. There is nothing else we can discuss and nothing else I’m interested in,” I announce sternly, leaning back on the desk, creating distance from the man who insists in being glued to my side. Ciro has shown all his cards and weaknesses tonight. Apparently, I’m his biggest one.

  “Isn’t there?” he asks, placing his hands on my thighs, stroking them eagerly.

  “No, there is not,” I tell him firmly, slapping his hands off me.

  “I have to be honest; once I put James’ freedom in question, I was disappointed that you didn’t come to me for help. I shouldn’t have been, of course. If you had, then all of this wouldn’t have happened, and I would have to come up with another way to undermine Vincent’s rule. Still, the truth is sometimes a harsh reality to face. Especially because, not only did you go to Vincent for aid, but you also sought out two others I wasn’t expecting,” he relents ominously.

  My throat instantly goes dry, as I watch the knowing glimmer in his eyes sparkle with his declaration.

  “I don’t have to kill them, Selene. Dominic and Giovanni are not a threat to me. They never were. You can save them. Just say the word.”

  He shrugs nonchalantly, placing his curious hands back on my thighs. This time I make no move to turn his affection away.

  “Save them?” I hush out, the lump in my throat preventing me from saying more.

  “Yes, of course. Dominic is too good of an enforcer to get rid of, and Giovanni has become quite the mastermind in the Outfit. I can use their abilities, but only if you so wish it. I’d save them. For you,” he insists, with a genuine look in his eyes. But I know it’s all a fabricated sham. I want to punch him and call him out on his lies, but I know right now I’m balancing on a thin line conversing with the mad man.

  “You’d save them but not Vincent?” I ask instead, knowing full well that he would gun down Dom and Gio, too, if they were a threat to him in any way.

  “Yes. For you, rosa, I would. Of course, your relationship with them needs to cease to exist—no contact of any kind, whatsoever. Otherwise, you would force my hand in having to put them six feet under,” he advises, wiping the imaginary lint off my jean-clad legs, instead of making eye contact.

  But his statement feels closer to the real truth at hand. He might actually be persuaded to leave Gio and Dom alone, as long as they continue to serve his needs and never lays eyes on me again.

  “So I’m to be yours and only yours?” I ask point-blank, wanting him to say the words aloud.

  “As it was destined to be from the start.”

  “You talk of destiny, but you always said that we should make our own. The stars written in the sky have no weight against our own wills and desires,” I paraphrase his own words, rehashing a conversation we once had when I still considered him a friend, and a possible ally.

  “And I still believe that to be true. But I also believe that your place has always been with me, Selene. We are two of a kind, you and I. It’s not our fault we lived our whole lives in darkness. They made us this way. But somehow, against all odds, my rose, I found you—a woman who has the same depraved desires as I do. Not only do you enjoy watching your enemies burn asunder, but you also want to be the one responsible for lighting the match. Neither Vincent, Giovanni, or even Dominic could handle such a precious force of nature. But my thorns will elevate you to your true glory, rosa. Can you deny we are made from the same cloth? Deny how our pieces fit so well? Can you deny having the same hunger as I do?” he questions, eyes wide in delight.

  “No, I can’t deny it,” I answer him and I find the sincerity in my statement tragically disappointing.

  The thorn and the rose are in fact two of a kind, as he is so adamant in proving. We have both been molded by the same cruel hands, given a youth so ugly and deplorable, that only the vile and hateful can flourish.

  “Can I ask you a question? Could you ever love me, Selene? The same way I love you?” There is genuine vulnerability underlining his every word, and my heart breaks for the monster that yearns to be loved but is resolved in killing the pieces of my own soul.

  To appease the moment of weakness he has opened for me, I give him my honest answer, “I could have loved you the same way I could have loved Pietro and the same way I loved James—with half a heart.”

  A small, fragile smile tugs at his lips, and it’s the closest to a heartfelt grin I have ever seen the intimidating man display.

  “As I said, we have to start somewhere,” he hushes and places a tender, chaste kiss on my lips.

  My logic and heart battle for dominance at his gentle endearment. My eyes connect with his, and I find my feelings for Ciro conflicted for the first time tonight. He is the very incarnation of evil but through no fault of his own. It could as easily have been me to lose my mind and want to wreak havoc on the world. His upbringing was just as devastating as mine, but I had three men who helped anchor my soul so I could overcome every horrid ordeal. Ciro wasn’t as fortunate, and here is the outcome of growing up discarded, beaten, abused, tortured, and bullied without one ounce of love.

  “I think once I rid you of certain distractions, your heart will thaw and may feel differently over the years,” he adds stroking my cheek, his eyes half-mast, full of hope for the future.

  “Distractions? You think killing Vincent will help you rid me of distractions?” I gape, astounded by the fact that he can’t let go of his resentment toward the love of my life, even when overtaken by his infatuation for me.

  “I know it will. Giovanni and Dominic as well, if I see they hold too much weight in your heart,” he hushes, straightening up my spine at his sudden change of heart in sparing the men who hold mine.

  “But you just said you’d saved them,” I cry out sickened, but Ciro ignores my outrage and continues to caress my face.

  “And I will. It all depends on you, Selene. My whole life depends on you,” he vows, tilting my chin to connect his affectionate gaze with my horrified glower. “But even if I vow to excuse them, Vincent must go,” he states firmly. With a glint of evil in the corner of his eyes, I am horrified by his next words, when he spews, “As must his son.”

  “What?” I croak out in shock, but Ciro just shakes his head, bringing me closer to him as he grabs my face fiercely in his hands.

  “The boy will learn of what happened here tonight. He’ll grow up and seek revenge on the man who murdered his fathers. I can’t have that!” I slap his face wi
th all the venom I hold inside and lean back as far as I can muster on my father’s desk.

  “So could Gio and Dom, but you’re willing to spare them!” I yell.

  “I’m sure they could. But they won’t, because of the love they hold for you will be enough to keep them both contained. Neither will lift a finger against me if they think you might get caught in the crosshairs. Your bastardo, however, won’t have the same fear. You and I both know what it is like to grow up breathing hate and nurturing vengeance in our soul, rosa. Vincent’s son would grow up to be just like me, and I fear the world only has room for one of us.”

  “He’s my son too, Ciro!” I spit at him.

  “And I’ll give you plenty more to make you forget him. I promise,” he tries to appease, and it’s disturbing how he actually believes he could kill my son and somehow still make me love him.

  I lean further back, no longer able to be in his vile presence any longer, when I feel my fingertips touch a familiar edge. My heart beats erratically as my scowling, livid veil keeps my excitement hidden. Once I have what I need in my full grasp, I snarl, disgusted at the man who looks hurt by my disdain.

  “You say you know me, but you don’t. You don’t love me either, Ciro, because you are incapable of it. If you did truly care for me, you would never threaten my son.” I seethe.

  “That’s not true, bella rosa,” he wails, perturbed by my new-found revulsion.

  I let him continue with his lies, but my ears are deafened by the thundering drum of my heart and the looming death he has threatened on Jude. Not only does he want to cut the men I love out of my life, but also destroy the only pure light I’ve ever been blessed with. Any empathy I might have had for The Thorn vanished the moment he sentenced my son to the same fate as his father.

  “Bella rosa? Did you hear a word I said?” he pleads with his soothing tone.

  “I see you have everything all planned out,” I reply, not answering his question.

  “I told you as much,” he coos. My features are stone-cold, and for Ciro, my apathy grows to be too much for him to endure.