“I will do anything to get my family back, anything.”
“Bene. My Don is already organizing the soldiers to storm the Landi compound to get Brando and Vinnie back. We will rescue your famiglia at the same time. However, if you value your own life, you must rein in your grief when you see my Don. He isn’t a calm person like I am. If you spit at his feet, you may not live to the end of the day. He has a violent and uncontrollable temper, so don’t do anything that will provoke him.”
“He—”
Nero raised his hand, cutting Drago off. “I understand you’ve been gravely wronged and you have a right to rage, but you must understand the reality of who you’ll be taken to. My Don is a murderer like the Landi. Bite your tongue if you want to survive, because, Drago, I don’t want you dead.”
Drago looked confused. “Why do you care what happens to me?”
Nero frowned. “You’re a civilian. You shouldn’t have been pulled into the war. It was wrong of the Landi to involve you and your people. I want to make sure no more innocent lives are lost, yours included.” He pushed up, his attention moving to the soldiers standing behind Drago. “Cover the dead, we’ll return for them after the battle.” His gaze shifted back to Drago. He extended a hand to him. “Take my help; it’s all you have.”
Drago looked at Nero’s hand for a few seconds, then gripped onto it, the Capo pulling him up.
“You’ll ride in my car,” Nero said. “I’ll coach you on what to say to my Don.” He turned to Ivy. “I’ll see you back at the compound.”
Ivy nodded, her eyes going to Drago, then back to Nero, fascinated by how much they resembled each other.
“They look like brothers,” D whispered behind her.
“I agree,” Ivy replied.
Nero headed for his car with Drago in tow. The gypsy glanced back at D, then climbed into the back seat, Nero holding the door open for him.
“It looks like Drago likes you,” Ivy added.
“Doubt it, no man likes me.” D jumped onto the motorbike. “Hurry up; I want to know where Kennedy and Sae Ra went.”
“Those bitches should’ve followed us.” Climbing behind D, Ivy’s attention returned to Nero’s car. “He looks too much like a gypsy not to be, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe Drago dresses up like that for kicks.”
“Don’t be a sarcastic bitch, I meant Nero. That’s why he looks like Drago. Though, I don’t know how he got a Capo job.”
D glanced over her shoulder. “Why?”
“The mafia doesn’t allow outsiders into their ranks, let alone one as high as a Capo.”
“They would if he’s the old Don’s son.”
Ivy went still, what D had said making sense. She looked back at Nero’s car as it drove off. “How many Santini brothers are there?”
D rammed the throttle. “Too many.”
30
Vinnie stopped yanking on the cuffs, the skin on his wrists now raw and bleeding. He closed his eyes, knowing for the moment there was fuck all he could do to get free. Though, he had to think of something and fast, and before Irene did anything to Brando. No matter what his brother had done with Gemma, or how angry and betrayed he felt, he didn’t want Brando dead.
The door opened and Irene walked in, the woman’s green eyes reminding him of Gemma’s. Both women had brought him pain, one crushing his heart, the other stealing his freedom.
Irene stopped by the bed and looked down at his injured wrists. “You shouldn’t have done that¸ Vincenzo. I’m not going to hurt you, and I’ll treat you well as long as you do as you’re told.”
“I’m cuffed to the fucking bed! That’s not treating me well.”
“I’m going to set you free very soon; I just needed to acquire an incentive for you to behave yourself.” She raised her voice. “Bring him in!”
A screeching sound started up. Vinnie’s eyes widened as a wooden cross was wheeled into the room with Brando tied to it. His brother’s arms were stretched out, with his elbows hooked over the crossbeam, only the ropes around them holding him up.
Vinnie yanked at his cuffs. “Brando!”
Brando didn’t stir, looking dead to the world.
Vinnie’s eyes moved to Irene. “Is he alive?”
“For now,” she replied. “Though, he will wish he wasn’t.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I told you: torture him, then when I grow tired of that, I will kill him.”
Vinnie yanked on the cuffs again. “No! Let him go. This is about me, not him.”
Irene’s features turned vicious. “HE murdered my parents, not you!”
“Why put him on a cross, then? Your sisters were crucified. You were put on one, too. How could you do that to someone else after what was done to you?”
“My sisters and I didn’t deserve to suffer like that, but Brando deserves it a hundredfold.”
“He didn’t crucify you or your sisters; that was the Donatelli.”
“He still deserves it! He caused me unbearable pain by killing my parents!”
“Then why are you causing me pain? I did nothing to your famiglia. If anything, I should’ve sought vengeance instead of Brando. Your father ordered the attack that killed my sister-in-law and got me shot in the back. I almost died from that.”
She breathed out, a shroud of guilt falling over her face. “I’m truly sorry for what happened to you, amore. I didn’t know about the attack until it was too late.”
“I’m not your love,” he spat. “And I’m not marrying you if you hurt him!”
“You will or your brother will suffer even more.”
Vinnie’s eyes went to Brando, knowing she was right.
“I got you by the balls don’t I, Vincenzo?”
He remained silent.
“In more ways than one.” She cupped his crotch.
Three more soldiers entered the room, pulling Irene’s attention away from him. One of them was Miko. He went to stand next to Brando. Smiling, he removed a gun from his holster and placed it to Brando’s head.
Vinnie yelled out, “No!”
“He won’t kill him,” Irene said, “unless you don’t cooperate. So, here’s what’s going to happen. After changing, we’re going to my famiglia’s chapel for the marriage ceremony. While we’re there, two of my soldiers will remain behind to watch over Brando. If you cause any trouble during the ceremony, one of my soldiers will radio through to Miko and he’ll either kill or torture your brother, depending upon what you’ve done wrong. Capito?”
“Sì,” Vinnie croaked out.
She smiled. “Bene.” She waved her hand at the soldier closest to Vinnie. “Unlock my fiancé.”
The soldier unclipped a key from his belt and freed Vinnie from the cuffs. Irene held out a hand for Vinnie to take. He hesitated, wondering if he could attack... Cazzo! He couldn’t do merda, he was greatly outnumbered, plus the soldiers were armed.
“Vincenzo,” Irene said. “Take my hand or suffer the consequences.”
He slipped his hand into hers and pushed out of bed, rising up in front of her. The woman was tall in high heels, only fractionally shorter than his six-foot-three.
She placed a hand on his cheek. “After today, you’ll finally be mine.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
Vinnie jerked his head back without thought.
Anger flashed across her eyes. “You will be punished for that.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Miko, you know what to do.”
Miko removed a knife from his belt and rammed it into Brando’s left hand. Brando’s eyes shot open, an agonized yell coming from his lips. Vinnie yelled out too. He pushed Irene aside and went for Miko, who cocked the gun aimed at Brando head, yelling, “Get back!”
Vinnie came to a halt.
“Are you going to cause me trouble again, Vincenzo?” Irene asked behind him.
Vinnie spun around. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Are you going to cause me trouble?!” she yelled.
“No! Fix his hand.”
“Only if you do exactly as I tell you.”
“I’ll do everything you say,” he spat.
“With a more friendly attitude and no answering back.”
Vinnie nodded, barely containing himself. Dominic was right about the crazy bitch. He should’ve let his twin kill her, then none of this would’ve happened.
Her eyes moved to Miko. “Remove the knife and patch up the scum’s hand.”
Brando yelled out as the knife was removed. Miko started wrapping Brando’s hand with a bandage, the man obviously coming prepared.
Brando raised his head, the pain in his brother’s eyes getting to him. “I’m sorry I failed you,” he murmured, then dropped his head, panting out the pain.
Irene’s fingers threaded through Vinnie’s. “Let’s go get you ready for the wedding. I want to dress you.”
Vinnie willed himself not to jerk away—or try to kill her. Irene led him out of the room. Two of the soldiers shadowed them, both of the men armed. Irene tugged him into the adjoining room, heading for the bed, which had a full tuxedo lying on it.
She let go of his hand. “You’re going to look fantastic in this, Vincenzo. I can’t wait to see you in it. Raise your arms.”
Knowing he had no choice, he did what she wanted.
She gripped onto the bottom of his blood-splattered shirt and lifted it over his head. She threw it aside and ran a hand over his chest and stomach, her eyes locked onto his body. “I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve waited so long to make love to you.”
He remained silent, not wanting Brando to pay for his words.
Smiling, Irene unzipped his fly and pulled his jeans down. “Step out of them.”
He did what she asked.
She threw his jeans aside and stuck her hand down his briefs, pulling out his cock. “Soon I’ll have you inside of me—big and hard. I will ride you till you scream. Would you like that, amore?” She started wanking him. “Well?”
Vinnie nodded, knowing he had no choice but to agree.
“Then why aren’t you getting hard? Don’t I turn you on?”
“You do.”
“It doesn’t look like it,” she said, her tone turning harsh. “Because if you’re lying to me Brando will—”
“I’m not lying, you’re beautiful.” Tipping his head back, Vinnie closed his eyes and brought up an image of D, naked and kneeling before him. He imagined her hand moving up and down his cock, gripping it just right, her lips only inches away from it. He thrust his hips forward, wishing his cock was inside her moist, warm mouth.
“Dio mio!” Irene gasped. “I want to take you right here and now.”
Vinnie opened his eyes, finding Irene staring at his semi-hard cock, her face flushed with arousal. He moved his hands behind his back, willing himself not to grab her throat and crush it.
Breathing out, she slipped his cock back into his briefs and gave it a pat, her hands shaking. “You’re far too tempting, Vincenzo. I really want to fuck you, but I’ll wait until after the ceremony. I want our wedding night to be special. Still ... I can at least have a kiss.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her lips against his. Vinnie again willed himself to stay still. She grabbed the back of his head, trying to push her tongue inside his mouth. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth for her, his mind going to D once more. He pretended he was kissing the Viper, using D’s memory to get him through, her sweet, full lips all he wanted to taste.
Irene pulled back. “Open your eyes, amore.”
He did.
“That was quite a kiss,” she said. “I want many more like it.”
She picked up the black pants off the bed and lowered herself to her knees. He stepped into the pants without being asked. Irene slid them up his legs and over his ass, zipping him up. She grabbed the belt next and threaded it through, then picked up the ruffled white shirt. She slipped it on him along with the jacket, finishing everything off with the black bowtie.
She gave his jacket a tug to straighten it, then took a step back, looking like she was examining his face. She licked her thumb and wiped something off his cheek, mumbling about a spot of blood, then brushed his hair to the side with her fingers. Once done, she stepped back again, appearing happy with herself. “Dio, you’re gorgeous. Why are you so perfect?”
“I’m far from perfect.”
“Not to me. Am I perfect, too?”
“Sì,” for a mental hospital.
She let out a little laugh. “I think you’re going to make me the happiest woman alive.” She threaded her fingers through his once again. “Now, let’s get married.”
***
Men in dark suits lined the walls of the chapel, guarding the wedding. Their eyes roamed over the people in the pews, who were either chatting excitedly or looking around them nervously. One of the latter was Milan Balak. He was dressed in a suit with his normally wild hair slicked back. His features looked strained, while his dark eyes were full of pain and worry. A woman dressed in a satin blue gown had her hand on his lap. She moved it to the back of Milan’s neck and leaned over, whispering something into his ear. Vinnie recognized her as one of Irene’s cousins, her dark hair and brutish features pure Landi.
Milan eyes moved to Vinnie as the woman kissed his cheek. ‘Help me,’ he mouthed.
Vinnie turned away, knowing he couldn’t even help himself, let alone Milan. His mind went to Gemma, praying they weren’t using her to force Milan into capitulating. Vinnie’s gaze shifted to the cross behind the altar. It made him think of Brando. He said a quick prayer, begging God to spare his brother’s life.
A priest appeared out of a door on Vinnie’s right. The old Padre walked slowly towards Vinnie, with two brutish men flanking him.
A babble of female voices started up behind Vinnie, pulling his attention away from the priest and his guards. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a group of women walking down the aisle, dressed in an array of gowns, from tight-fitting to prudish. They slid into a pew, almost taking up the whole row. Some of them were ugly, bearing the brutish Landi features, while a few were pretty. When they noticed him looking, they waved excitedly at him.
One of the men guarding Vinnie leaned over and whispered into his ear, “Wave back unless you want your brother’s other hand stabbed.”
Vinnie did as instructed, making the women break out into an excited babble, a couple of them squealing, the women obviously fans of his music.
The organ started up, pulling Vinnie’s attention to the chapel doorway. A little girl appeared through it, holding a pink and white posy. A boy followed close behind, carrying a pillow with a ring. Two women in green satin dresses entered next, holding bouquets. They walked slowly down the aisle, moving to his right. A few seconds later, a hush went through the chapel, signaling Irene’s entrance. She looked stunning in a sleeveless white gown, the cut complimenting her curves. Like before, her hair was piled high on her head, the tiara now glistening under the chapel lights. No, he was wrong, she didn’t just look stunning, she looked drop-dead gorgeous. But all Vinnie saw was his captor, the woman who had hurt his brother, a vulgar creature he wanted to kill. He hated her with a vengeance, again wishing he hadn’t been so harsh on Dominic.
A large, muscular man who resembled Irene’s father, walked alongside her, with his arm hooked through hers. Vinnie recognized Irene’s uncle, having seen him on a few occasions prior to Javier being captured by the FBI. He wondered how Don Pedro’s younger brother had gotten out of prison, since he’d been given a life sentence.
Javier Landi brought his niece to a stop next to Vinnie, one of the soldiers moving out of his way. “If you look after my niece well, Santini, I won’t kill you,” Javier said.
Irene’s eyes snapped to her uncle. “Zio!” she gasped.
Javier’s hard gaze moved to her, softening a little. “You are a foolish girl for wanting this man, but nonetheless, I cannot deny you after what you’ve suffered. But remember, I
rene, I am the Don now, so don’t do anything like this again without my knowledge. I won’t forgive you a second time.”
She screwed up her face. “Please, Zio, you know I love him.”
“And I love you, my sweet niece.” Javier gave her a peck on the cheek, then returned his gaze to Vinnie. “Be good to her and you will be rewarded.” He spun around and headed for the front pew, taking a seat.
Irene took Vinnie’s hand. “Don’t listen to him, he won’t hurt you.”
Vinnie nodded, getting a smile in return. The priest started talking, drawing his attention away from Irene. The ceremony passed in a haze. Vinnie said what was expected of him, the pain in his chest growing. He’d wanted to do this with Gemma, but knew it would never happen. Even if he was set free and Gemma was available, she’d betrayed him with Brando. His mind went to Brando again. He felt anger at what Brando had done with Gemma, but couldn’t hate him. Though, if they got out of this alive, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see him again—or their mother.
“You may kiss your bride,” the priest said, snapping Vinnie out of his thoughts.
Irene stared at him in expectation. Knowing Brando would suffer if he didn’t give her a kiss to remember, he took her face into his hands and planted his lips against hers, aware he was now a slave to her desires.
31
Pain lanced through Brando. His head, face, stomach, and most of all, his hand was making it hard to concentrate. But he forced himself to push through it, his life and Vinnie’s depending upon it. He sized up the room, taking everything in. There was a large bed with four thick posts and a canopy above it, as well as framed pictures of people and landscapes hanging over floral wallpaper. Fancy cabinets were arranged around the room on a plush blue carpet, with darker blue drapes covering the windows.
He turned his attention to the soldiers guarding him. The two bastards were sitting at a desk, playing cards, probably thinking he was still unconscious. After Vinnie had been taken from the room, Miko had repeatedly struck him, laughing as his mate squeezed Brando’s injured hand. Thankfully, one of the punches had hit his head too hard, knocking him out, unconsciousness giving him a reprieve.
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