Bound By Vengeance (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 5)

by Cora Reilly

  “That’s reasonable,” I said, taking another sip from my drink and forcing my face into one of delight instead of revulsion at the taste. I knew for most people this champagne was the height of their drink fantasies but I just couldn’t enjoy it. I’d have to try harder if I didn’t want to see Anastasia’s pitying expression again.

  “One of your hairpins is loose,” she said.

  My free hand flew up to the spot she was looking at and I tried to find the offending pin before it could ruin my hairdo. Other guests were throwing glances my way anyway, as this was my debut at a party. I couldn’t risk appearing anything less than immaculate.

  “Let me,” Trish said and simply pushed the pin a few inches back. “There. All done.” Her smile was kind.

  That was all? From Anastasia’s reaction one could have thought, I’d committed an inexcusable fashion sin.

  “There’s a nice selection tonight,” Anastasia said. Her eyes lingering on a group of men across from us made it clear she wasn’t talking about the buffet.

  The men in her focus were all at least ten years older than us, and as I surveyed the rest of the room, I realized that we were among the youngest guests. Most of the attendants worked for Falcone. This was a party for his subjects; I doubted he had any friends. Men like him couldn’t afford that luxury.

  “But of course, you don’t have eyes for other men anymore now that you’re engaged to Cosimo,” Anastasia continued, dragging me back to reality.

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Her voice had been odd. Was she jealous? Her father was probably already looking for a suitable match for her, so she’d soon be engaged as well.

  “We’ll all be married soon enough,” I said in a placating tone.

  “You got your hands on the highest-ranking bachelor, that’s for sure,” she said with a tight smile. Then she let out a laugh and clinked her glass against mine. “I’m joking, don’t look so shocked.”

  I laughed, relieved. I really didn’t want to fight with Anastasia over Cosimo. We’d all marry good matches.

  The music picked up and I took another sip of my drink. I was starting to relax thanks to the alcohol spreading in my blood and barely minded the occasional curious glances from other guests. At the next party, I’d already be one of them and someone else would be at the center of attention. Trish tapped her foot on the hardwood floor in rhythm with the song and hummed a few tunes before Anastasia shot her a look. I had to stifle a laugh. The dynamic between them was ridiculous at times.

  To my surprise, I realized that even my bodyguard had disappeared from view to give me privacy with my friends. Slowly but surely this evening was getting good.

  I knew Talia would give me an earful when I returned tonight, but our parents had been right when they’d insisted she was too young for a social event at Falcone’s house. Of course I wouldn’t tell her that again. It would be hard enough to make her forgive me as it was, though a few juicy rumors would probably placate her. Not that I was an experienced socialite. I’d have to rely on Trish and Anastasia for that. Annoyance toward Father rose up in me. Maybe he’d refused to take me to a social function until now because he thought I’d embarrass him in front of his boss. I’d overheard him tell Mother several times how terrifying and brutal Falcone was, so it wasn’t too far-fetched that Father thought I might cower in fear in front of that man, which was ridiculous. He was still human, not the monster Father always made him out to be, and even if he were, I doubted very much that he’d hate to see me cower in fear. It would probably excite him if he were the man Father had described.

  “They are a bit too old for my taste,” Trish said, then took another sip from her champagne, returning to our previous topic.

  “I don’t mind. I want to be treated like a princess by my husband and older men are more likely to appreciate me than a young guy,” Anastasia said. She gave me a knowing smile. For some reason it felt false. “From what I hear the deal between your family and Cosimo is almost done, so your engagement party will be soon.”

  I frowned at the use of the word ‘deal’ when it came to me marrying Cosimo. But in all honesty, it was probably the term that fit the whole arrangement best. I gave a small shrug, trying to act nonchalant. I didn’t want to talk about him tonight, especially since the topic seemed to rile Anastasia up.

  “Oh my God, Falcone invited his monster,” Trish whispered, clutching at my arm and almost making me spill my champagne over her dress. I followed her shock-widened brown eyes toward a corner of the room where a tall, muscled man leaned against a wall. He was dressed in a white shirt that strained against his massive chest, a black suit and black dress shoes. In fact he didn’t look that different from the other men in the room except for the missing tie, if you took only his outfit into consideration. But the rest of him, God have mercy.

  He looked way too tame for someone like him. Or at least he’d tried. There was no fooling anyone about his nature. It seemed to radiate off him like a dark cloud of danger. It was almost palpable even from afar.

  Father had mentioned him once or twice in hushed tones but I’d never seen him, and he definitely wasn’t the type to appear in the gossip parts of the newspaper. I doubted any journalist was crazy enough to risk the wrath of a man like him.

  “The Bastard, that’s what most people call him,” Anastasia added. She looked like a cat that had spotted a bird. I knew why she was so excited. So far nothing interesting had happened, but Anastasia probably hoped that this had the potential for some decent gossip.

  “What’s his real name?” I asked. I’d tried to get it out of Mother once but the look she’d given me had stopped me from asking again.

  “I don’t know his real name. Nobody does. People call him “Growl” to his face, and The Bastard behind his back.”

  I gave them a look. Really? Both were names he couldn’t possible have chosen for himself. Someone had to know his name. At least, Falcone. He knew everything about his subjects. “Why would people call him that?”

  Anastasia shrugged but didn’t glance my way. “There’s something wrong with his vocal cords since a horrible accident. That’s why he’s got that big scar.”

  I couldn’t make out a scar from our vantage point. We were too far away. I assumed Anastasia had gotten that piece of information from the gossip mill as well. “What kind of accident?”

  “I don’t know. Some people say the Russian Mob did this, others say he tried to kill himself because he isn’t right in the head, but nobody knows,” Anastasia replied under her breath.

  Who would try to kill themselves like that? And Growl didn’t seem the guy for suicide. The first story with the Bratva sounded far more likely. “So they call him Growl because that’s what it sounds like when he talks?” I asked.

  Anastasia barely seemed to register my words but Trish nodded in confirmation.

  I didn’t ask why they called him the Bastard. That much I could explain. People in our world didn’t look kindly upon children who were born out of wedlock. It was old-fashioned and ridiculous but some things never changed. I didn’t know who his parents were. They couldn’t be high-ranking members of society, that was certain.

  I directed my eyes back to the man. He seemed completely indifferent to what was happening around him, as if this party was just another of his duties. But something told me that despite his displayed boredom he was alert. I doubted that much passed his attention. He was holding a glass of champagne in his hands but it was still full. The elegant crystal looked tiny compared to him and I marveled that he hadn’t crushed it between his palms yet. As if he could read my mind, he turned his head and stared straight at us. Trish let out a gasp and jerked beside me, spilling a few drops of her drink on the expensive looking wooden floor. She really couldn’t have acted more suspicious if she’d tried. After a moment, both Trish and Anastasia jerked their heads down, breaking eye-contact. Maybe to make him believe they hadn’t been watching him, or maybe they simply couldn’t bear the power of his ga
ze. Now I understood why my parents and even my friends had sounded so terrified when they’d talked about him. Even from the distance his eyes almost made my knees buckle.

  It wasn’t only fear that made my heart speed up though; there was something close to excitement too. It was like watching a tiger through the glass of its enclosure and marveling at its power. Only here the only thing keeping him from attack were the social rules even someone like him was bound to. The leash Falcone had him on wasn’t a physical or visible one, but it was there nonetheless.

  I wondered what was going on in his head. How did he feel surrounded by people he had hardly anything in common with? He was one of them and yet not really. A man of the shadows because nobody wanted him in the light. When I realized how long I’d been staring, I averted my eyes, but my pulse kept up its erratic pace afterward. I wasn’t sure when I’d felt this…alive the last time. My life always meandered in its predetermined pathways, but tonight felt like an adventure.

  “Oh my God, that was creepy,” Anastasia whispered. “He should have stayed in the hole he crawled out of.”

  I couldn’t say anything. My tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  “Is he still watching?” I asked eventually, my eyes firmly plastered on the bubbles still rising in my glass.

  “No, he’s gone,” Anastasia said with no small relief. “I can’t believe he came here. People like him should stay among themselves and not pretend they belong to us.”

  I peered toward the corner he’d previously stood but like Anastasia had said, he was gone. For some reason it made me nervous that I didn’t know where he’d gone. He was one of the people you’d like to keep track of because you feared they could sneak up on you. And I could have sworn that I could still sense his eyes on y skin. I shivered. Paranoia usually wasn’t my style.

  I searched my surroundings but he was nowhere to be seen. I shook the ridiculous feeling of being watched off. It wouldn’t do for me to start acting paranoid. If I embarrassed myself here, it would be a while before I’d be invited to anything again. Or worse, Cosimo would decide I wasn’t fit to become his wife. Mother and Father would never forgive me if that happened.

  “Look who’s coming,” Trish said under her breath, and for a ridiculous, heart-stopping moment I actually thought it was Growl.

  I turned to see who she was talking about and felt heat rush into my cheeks. Cosimo was heading our way. He was dressed in a grey double-breasted suit, dark-blond hair slicked back and thin-rimmed glasses on his nose.

  “He looks like a broker,” commented Trish in a low voice.

  He managed Falcone’s money, so that wasn’t very far off. The suit was his second skin. I’d never seen him in anything else. It was a stark contrast to the man I’d been spying on mere seconds ago.

  Trish and Anastasia took a step to the side, huddling together and pretending to give Cosimo and I some privacy, which really was only pretense since I knew they’d be hanging on our lips, memorizing our words.

  I doubted they’d be using them against me. They were my friends after all but I didn’t want to risk it.

  Cosimo came to a stop a little too close and brought my hand to his lips. I almost rolled my eyes at the gesture, though a small part of me relished in the appreciative glances Trist and Anastasia exchanged.

  “Care for a dance?” he asked, voice smooth and even. That, like the suit, was always the same. Trish had compared him to a well-oiled machine once. The term fit too well. His eyes darted to my friends but he didn’t say anything. I didn’t follow his gaze, worried Anastasia would look pissed off. Sometimes I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with her.

  I let him guide me toward the dance floor, aware of my friends’ curious gazes following us, and they weren’t the only ones watching. My parents, too, had turned their attention toward us. I almost cringed at the force of attention.

  Don’t trip, I told myself over and over again as we started moving to the music.

  As we danced closely, I waited for a flutter, for something, the smallest hitch in my pulse, but nothing happened. Not that Cosimo looked as if he was madly in love with me. Not that love was required for a marriage, but it would have been nice nevertheless. Cosimo tried to make conversation. The weather, how lovely my dress was, this and that he thought I might be interested in. He couldn’t have been farther off.

  My friends were still watching Cosimo and me. Though, ‘watching’ wasn’t the right term for the look Anastasia was giving me. I really hoped she’d find a man for herself soon. Knowing her, she was probably just pissed that for once I was in the lead, even though I wouldn’t have minded if my father had taken more time to find someone for me. I tore my gaze away from my friend’s scowl and let my eyes settle in the corner where Growl had stood. He still wasn’t there.

  “My friends and I noticed a man earlier,” I said, not even sure what Cosimo had been rambling on about before I interrupted him. “My friends told me his name was Growl. He looked…”

  I didn’t get further.

  Cosimo’s grip on my back tightened. “He should have stayed where he belongs,” Cosimo said with a sharpness that surprised me, then he gave me an encouraging look. “Don’t worry. You’re safe. He knows he’s not allowed near women like you.”

  I opened my mouth for more questions but Cosimo shook his head. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  There was nothing else I wanted to talk about right then, but I let Cosimo’s small talk lull me in. It didn’t stop my gaze from searching the room for Growl though.

  Cosimo led me back to my friends and a look passed between Anastasia and him. Her scowl obviously hadn’t passed his attention either. If I were braver, I’d have confronted her and asked what her problem was, but I definitely didn’t want any trouble at my first party.

  Cosimo excused himself and headed toward a group of men, including Falcone. Trish handed me a fresh glass of champagne. “How was it?”

  “Good,” I said automatically, unwilling to admit to them that I couldn’t care less about my soon to be fiancé.

  “You looked cute together,” Anastasia said sweetly. Surprise surged through me, and I felt myself relax at once. Apparently, Anastasia had realized that there was no reason for her to be jealous of me and Cosimo.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Cara

  I’d lost my way; the three glasses of Champagne I’d downed didn’t really help either. This house was a maze, obviously built to impress and intimidate, and not so much as a place to feel comfortable and actually live in. At least I could not imagine ever feeling comfortable in a place like this, but maybe the almost life-sized paintings of Falcone had something to do with it as well. His haunting eyes seemed to follow me wherever I went.

  I fumbled for my mobile in my purse and pulled it out, but hesitated. How embarrassing would it be if I called Anastasia or Trish and told them I’d actually managed to lose my way while looking for the ladies room? They wouldn’t let me hear the end of it. The atmosphere between us had been strained since my dance with Cosimo anyway. No need to give them any more ammunition against me.

  Not for the first time I wished Talia were here. We’d laugh about this together, and she’d tease me about it for a long time, but never out of malice or schadenfreude. She wouldn’t use it against me when talking to other people.

  I paused, realizing with sudden horror that I didn’t even trust my two best friends. I shook my head. This was the world I lived in. ‘You can’t walk around trusting people, not even your so-called friends’, that’s what Father always said. I’d always been reluctant to believe him. I put my phone back into my purse. There was no way I was going to call anyone.

  Mother was out of the question anyway.

  And Cosimo. No, I didn’t need another reason for it to be awkward between us. And he was as good as a stranger for me. I had an inkling that wouldn’t change until our wedding day and perhaps a long time after.

  With a quiet sigh, I kept going.
At some point I’d have to see something I recognized and find my way back to the party.

  I turned another unfamiliar corner – they really looked all the same – when I spotted someone in the corridor only a few steps in front of me. Finally, someone might be able to point me in the right direction!

  My elation turned to shock, then fear when I realized who I’d walked into.

  Growl.

  He didn’t move. Just stood there. It seemed as if he’d been in this corridor for a while already.

  Waiting for a victim, perhaps, my overactive mind suggested helpfully.

  But as much as I wanted to scoff inwardly at the idea, I had a feeling it wasn’t that far off. Fear and fascination battled in me, and I reminded myself that he wouldn’t touch me. My father was too important for Falcone, and that meant I was too. Maybe Growl was a merciless killer, barely more than a killing machine and monster, but he was definitely a clever monster or he wouldn’t have made it this far. And yet I hoped my bodyguards would come to find me soon. But had they even seen me leaving the party? They’d tried to give my friends and me room. Now I wished they hadn’t.

  Growl’s eyes showed nothing as he watched me. The suit was too tight around his broad shoulders and the hint of black peeked out under his too white shirt. One of his many tattoos. I’d never seen them, but you couldn’t be part of society and not hear the stories. Even dressed up in a suit, masked like one of us, he couldn’t hide who he was. His tattoos showed, a small hint of the monster beneath the expensive attire. I wondered how he looked without the suit. Heat shot into my cheeks at the ridiculous thought. I’d definitely drunk too much alcohol.

  The hint of a scowl crossed his face before it disappeared and I realized how long I’d been staring at him again, judging him. I probably hadn’t managed to hide my thoughts about him very well. A mistake that could ruin everything in our world. My parents had taught me better.

  The door behind him, however, looked faintly familiar. It led to the main lobby. I didn’t move. Making my way back to the party meant going closer to him.