by V. F. Mason
“Angelica!” Oliver exclaimed, appalled by my question or boldness. Whatever it was, I couldn't dwell on it much as he was interrupted when two men joined our group, and my jaw almost hit the floor.
Holy hell!
The man standing beside Dominic on his right was no doubt his twin. Both exuded an aura of dominance and danger. They both shared tanned skin, amber eyes, black hair, and ripped bodies. However, that was where the similarities ended and the differences began.
Dominic's hair was much longer than his twin's shaggy cut, and both his arms had various tattoos on them, along with his neck, and I suspected his back too. His long, dark lashes looked almost out of place on his hard-as-granite face. He had a bulky form, and somehow I imagined a girl could get lost in his strong, protective arms. Or climb him like a monkey in a huge tree and never let go. “Hello, Angelica.” His brother smiled softly, although it didn't reach his eyes as they studied me like some kind of germ under a microscope. “I’m Dominic’s twin, Damian.”
“I kind of guessed that,” I said, removing a strand of my hair from my forehead and tried to act breezy, when I felt anything but.
While Damian certainly looked as hot as his brother, his presence awakened nothing and actually calmed me a bit. There was something about his presence… as if he could protect me from any danger, and I could trust him completely. He’d have my best interests at heart, not like my family, who just wanted to mold me into someone I was not.
Great! Now you think you know men who you just met. Any more of this, and an asylum will be a strong possibility, girl.
The second man, with a long scar on his face, extended his hand to me, and I gave him mine. When he softly kissed my knuckles, I wondered if I’d heard a growl from Dominic. “Vitya, Dominic’s bodyguard.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise at his words. Why would such a man as him need a bodyguard? Just then, I noticed a snake tattoo on his wrist, which his T-shirt didn't cover up, and I tried freaking hard not to gasp as realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
A Bratva member.
My family had a long conversation with me, with pictures and slides explaining the hierarchy and ways of our world. According to them, for my safety, it was the most crucial thing for me to learn. Vito Rossi was one of the most ruthless mafia bosses in Sicily, in the world really. No one measured up to him, because he simply had nothing to lose compared to everyone else. As a result, he had a lot of enemies from other mafia houses, and from those, I had to stay away or know how to show proper respect when, for example, his counselor arrived to our house. One of the lessons included Irish and Russian mafia logos that under no circumstances should I ever be associated with. They emphasized that no one would dare step foot in Italy without Vito’s permission.
Dominic Konstantinov didn't exactly strike me as the asking type, so what the hell was he doing strolling around the country as if he owned it?
More importantly, what was Oliver doing? Vito didn't like him, and this wouldn't exactly give him the best nephew of the year award either. I didn't want the guy, but, geez, I never wished him dead, and who knew what my crazy uncle would do?
Deciding to play along to cover a bit of my state of mind—or the fact that it didn't diminish my attraction to Dominic, even though he was not that different from Vito—I questioned, “Are you here for the wedding as well?” This brought tension between the men, while Dominic fisted his hands until his knuckles whitened.
“Oliver was generous to invite us all. We came here for business, so I think we’ll stay,” Damian replied, and relief surged through me at this information. At this point, I gave up trying to understand my state of mind around these men.
“Of course! After all the help you gave me, it’s the least I could do.” Oliver wanted to say more, but the ringing of his phone interrupted him, and he took it out with an apologetic smile. “Yeah? Hold a second, Lane.” He kissed me on the temple, and I couldn't help but move away from it, which probably was unnoticed by him, but I didn't miss the intense gazes of the three strangers. “I need to take it, sweetheart.”
With that, he walked away from us a few feet toward the cathedral, arguing on the phone over some shipment that wasn't done properly. Usually I zoned out during our dinners or conversations with him, because he couldn't hold my attention for long. But I vaguely remembered how he mentioned his shipping company, which was about to get an expensive contract for the new project that had billions in the making. Or so he dreamed. Even without my knowledge of the subject, it sounded like a disaster in the making.
“Well, hello there.” Ciara whistled from behind me. She must have followed me as the girl had a freaking radar when it came to my whereabouts. She stepped forward, her eyes lighting up with interest as she studied all three men. She waved at Oliver and then placed her sunglasses on her head while she winked, and murmured to me, “You didn't tell me he’d bring such hunks with him.” Her words irritated me, especially the way she kept focusing her gaze on Dominic. I knew better than anyone about her weakness for tattooed guys.
“Aren’t you done with dating?” I reminded her about the little speech back in the bridal salon.
She gave me the Are you kidding me look, and whispered, “Have you seen them? I can make an exception for such masculinity.” Lifting her hand right in the twins’ faces, she said loudly, “Ciara Rossi. Pleased to meet you.” Both men only raised their brows slightly, and showed no interest in wanting to kiss it. In fact, Damian took a step back and just nodded, acknowledging her presence, while Dominic hesitated for a second while I held my breath.
Then he took her hand, and lightly, his lips touched her skin, all while his heated eyes stayed on me as if daring me to say something.
For some odd reason, my heart panged painfully when I saw him doing this to my sister. His lips touched her flawless skin, and I couldn't help but rub the scars on my collarbone as an uncomfortable feeling of self-doubt settled in. I caught Vitya’s gaze, and the softness in them surprised me, as it went against the brutality of his face.
“Dominic Konstantinov. The pleasure is all mine.” His sexy, rugged voice washed over me like a hot wave I could bask in. God, what was going on with my fucked-up persona?
Ciara tilted her head back and laughed, attracting attention from the men passing by, then leaned forward and murmured, “You haven't seen anything yet.” For a second, something flashed through his eyes, akin to disgust, but it was gone so quickly that again I thought I imagined it.
In an instant, his mouth spread in a sinister smile as he gave Ciara a once-over and tightened his hold on her palm. “I’m intrigued.” Her breath hitched, clearly liking his attention. I noticed Damian and Vitya watched all this exchange with confusion, and even anger, but I couldn't care less about that.
My insides burned with pain and rage.
I hated him touching her, looking at her like that, showering her with his smiles. My fiancé stood literally a few feet away from me, and all I could think about was this Russian gangster who represented everything I had learned to despise during my life in Italy, but at the same time, he created such awareness in me within minutes that my mind spun.
Not being able to take it anymore, I grabbed her elbow and pushed her back, breaking their hold on each other. “Ouch, Angelica, what the hell?” she asked, while I focused my attention on her, afraid to even glance at the men who probably thought I had lost my mind.
Yeah, join the club.
“We need to go check… shoes.”
Ciara frowned. “What shoes?”
Really, what shoes? The last thing on my mind was shopping, but I had to get away from here, and a trip to the museum wasn't something my sister would be in the mood for.
“For the wedding rehearsal.” At least that much was true.
Rolling her eyes, she said, “Of all times to decide on shopping, you chose now.” But then she waved at the guys and winked. “Nice to meet you. I’ll see you around, Dominic.” That last part was slightly s
ultry, as if she was setting her net for him, and he didn't seem to mind, which pissed me off so much my fists clenched.
“Goodbye, gentlemen,” I replied, and practically dragged her to Oliver, who hugged her close, and she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent. And once again, I wondered just how deep her affections for him ran. Sometimes, when she thought no one noticed, she’d stare at him for hours and listen to every word he said as if he hung the moon.
Why, then, wasn't she the one bonding her life with his in a few days?
He let go of her, and instantly, his arms wrapped around my waist. I had no choice but to circle his neck as he hugged me close. I decided to follow Ciara’s example, closed my eyes, and opened all my emotions to feel something.
Anything.
But nothing happened. His masculine, clean-shaven smell didn't bring my body to a higher alert. I didn't long to stay in his embrace forever and let him touch me. Leaning back, his mouth lifted in a half smile as he placed my hair behind my ear while his thumb slowly rubbed my lower lip. “I promise you, once this deal is done, I’m all yours. We can even travel for a few days to Rome before the big day.” Shaking my head, I stepped back, forcing myself to keep a calm expression on my face and not show the surging panic that screamed at me to run away from this man and this situation.
Preferably to Dominic, who would catch me and never let go.
Oh my God, for the love of everything holy, shut up.
“No need for the trip. We’ll just go now.” I gave him a peck on the cheek so he wouldn't try to catch my lips with his. I entwined my elbow with Ciara’s as I pushed us in the direction of the Florence shopping area, hoping like hell this entire thing was a nightmare and I would wake up soon.
Why?
Because it proved I could feel desire, want, and need for a man. That my memory wasn't the problem and my body wasn't frigid. I could desire a man.
He just wasn't my fiancé.
Dominic
Simmering rage threatened to snap my control, to make me dash toward Oliver and hit the fucking shit out of him for stroking my woman’s cheek.
For caressing her.
For having his ring on her.
For thinking he had the right to hold or stake a claim on my woman, who never belonged to him to begin with.
My hands fisted, my muscles clenching, ready to punch, when two pairs of strong arms grabbed me, and two bodies blocked my view as they stood in front of me, making a brick wall that separated me from the fucker who destroyed my life. “Get out of the way,” I snarled, but they wouldn't budge.
“Don’t act hasty,” Vitya stated, and I barely restrained myself from delivering a blow right in the middle of his forehead for commanding me.
“He’s to blame. Not the mastermind, if his business idea is an indication of his intelligence, but he has to be a part of it.” Damian cursed and then ran his fingers through his hair.
“We don’t know, Dom. We can’t act on our emotions. You need to see it. I have a feeling there are bigger things at stake, especially taking into consideration all the information we have gathered during this year.”
Yeah, whatever he said was the voice of reason, and he might have a point, but I just couldn't let go.
Rosa.
My Rosa was alive. I would recognize her anywhere, but the unmistakable sparkle of hazel in her eyes, her full lips with a small mole on one, barely visible to anyone who wasn't as familiar with her body as I was, and her long lashes… the face I saw in my dreams.
My eyes drank in her body, her beauty, her smell, and if it were up to me, I would have kidnapped her from here and run back to Russia where she’d be safe.
But I couldn’t.
The game had just begun.
“It’s her.” I gritted my teeth, my heart speeding up just saying it out loud. All the darkness, all the nightmares, all those nights with smashed whiskey bottles. They all blurred into nothing, as if they never happened. Because my woman was alive, and I’d be fucking damned if some asshole would take her away from me. My eyes didn't miss how she flinched at any sign of his affection or how the air electrified around us. I didn't want to wonder if he ever had access to her perfection, but even if he did—as much as the thought alone made me want to kill the fucker and roar—it wouldn't change my love or the situation.
Rosa Giovanni was mine either way, but those who hurt her had to be punished.
Damian softened, placed his hand on my nape, and squeezed it lightly, giving me all the support I needed. “I know.”
And just like that, the stakes changed.
Fuck, I thought a year ago we had a war and dealt with shit.
That had nothing on what would happen next.
Conductor
Screaming loudly, I knocked all the toiletries on my nightstand off with my elbows, and they scattered on the floor, breaking or rolling under the bed while I pulled my hair painfully.
Opening up various cupboards, I searched for the one thing that could calm me down before someone showed up to silence me. Finally finding the gray scissors, I removed my jeans, sat on the bed, and closed my palm as the scissors slowly broke the skin on my thigh. The blood dripped down onto the floor, mesmerizing me with its color.
Once it was done, I breathed freely and wiped the blood with a tissue as my mind cleared from the fog of madness, and I could think rationally and plan a counterattack.
Dominic Konstantinov was here. The man still had the same aura of confidence around him, and everything female in me craved his brand of dominance and possessiveness I’d seen him give Rosa back in New York. He chose her as his, when it should have been me.
He should have been my savior, not hers. Why the hell did she need his love and protection? She had it all, the princess of Cosa Nostra adored by her father.
Everything already belonged to that bitch, who had ruined my life before I was even born.
Alfonso was a stupid and naïve fool who truly believed that my plan would make him the head of the Cosa Nostra, and he could inflict his revenge on all those who underestimated him. And his jealousy of the pakhan helped me convince him to act harshly, so much he didn't notice he was never meant to survive the plan.
Rosa Giovanni became Angelica Rossi for a reason. She deserved punishment for what she had put me through, and now somehow her man had figured it out. Only this could explain him showing up in Italy out of the blue, and in Oliver’s company, of all people. The idiot had no idea how to conduct business, so why would the pakhan of the Bratva invest in his idea without having an ulterior motive?
He wanted to save his precious Rose, once again. What did she have in her that the Harrison twins were ready to take a bullet for her? Even Sociopath considered her a sister and would put a lot on the line for her. According to my sources and research, she was one of his favorite girls after his wife and daughter.
Familiar anger raced back in, speeding up my heartbeat, and my palms sweated as my nails itched to scratch the curtains on the windows. The medication didn't seem to help anymore. I’d have to get something else.
Sliding my hand under the pillow, I took out a black and white photo of a gorgeous black-haired woman who happily waved at the camera while a man held her in his arms. She was so happy, not knowing the evil that awaited her in the future. Rubbing her face with my thumb, I whispered, “I promise you, Mama. They will pay for this,” as annoying voices from my memories flashed through my mind.
Little darling, men have come to play.
Covering my ears in the hope of forever silencing this voice, I rocked back and forth on the bed while a familiar coldness chilled me; I could smell the semen on my skin as he rubbed it in and always made me taste it. How could anyone ever forgive and forget it?
The only way to accomplish that was to destroy Rosa Giovanni. Only then, my mother would rest in peace, and I’d be able to die with the knowledge that the privileged happiness she felt entitled to her whole life was snatched from her, as she slowly, bit by bit, died in d
espair in a life worse than death.
Only that outcome would be fair.
Only that outcome would avenge the little girl I once was.
Only one outcome could accomplish it.
Dominic
“At least in the future, let me know we are going to an underground fighting scene. I’d skip it,” Michael mumbled, while Vitya shook his head in exasperation, squeezing his nape.
“Trust me. No one wants to be here,” Damian said, once again scrolling through his phone to write a text to Sapphire. He couldn't stay away from her without messaging her all the fucking time while sighing sadly.
“Baby, behave. I promise I’ll take you sight-seeing tomorrow.” Vitya gave him a quick peck just before we reached the stairs in the corner of the street that led to the underground and straight to a massive metal door. Music was blasting loudly, while two bodyguards stood with indifferent expressions on their faces.
“I’d appreciate it if you all didn’t fucking whine.” What the fuck was this about anyway? I was the only one who could complain, considering my woman was out somewhere with some fucker who claimed she belonged to him. My fists clenched as I imagined choking the shit out of Oliver, but even in my state of rage, things didn't add up. His name never came up, or the family, and by the hopeless glances he kept giving her, I understood he did have feelings for her. The man was like a fucking unicorn, smiling and dreaming about his future bride, while his business deal was a sinking ship. With all my experience in the criminal world, I highly doubted he had anything to do with the master plan. But appearances could be deceiving, so no one could be dismissed easily. At this point, everyone in the Rossi clan was a suspect.
Damian showed them our IDs. They nodded, allowed us to enter, and immediately the smell of sex, alcohol, sweat, and blood greeted us.
Half-naked women swayed their hips seductively to the beat of the music in the cages above the ring, bending their bodies around the pole for maximum exposure of their assets as drunk men near the bar took more shots and whistled.
