by Rose Harper
“Do you believe marriage will help matters? It could just make it worse,” Dom utters with Giovanni nodding his agreement.
“I know it will make it worse, that’s the problem.” I sigh, falling back into my chair. “But I can’t stop the fact that I need that connection to her. Don’t fucking ask me why, either, because I don’t even know the answer to that. I don’t love her. We clash heads more than we get along. Hell, most of the time I’m sure we want nothing more than to slit each other’s throat just because we can’t stand the sight of one another.
“But … there’s just something about her. Something I can’t explain. If I had to put words to it, I’d say it’s because she reminds me so much of myself. I can see the strength in her, the wildness, and it’s hotter than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s like this untamed mustang, and I’m the handler that wants nothing more than to train her. She’s a blazing fire on a cold night. The smell of fresh grass after a spring shower. But fuck, just the thought of her pisses me off. Makes me into this complete asshole that both of you know I’m not.
“Yes, I like things the way they are. I don’t go for change. I hate the thought of something new coming in to mess up the equation. But the thought of not being tied to her infuriates me more than having her here. I realize that’s a complete contradiction, but goddamn, I have no idea how to explain it other than that.”
Both sit as silently as they can, roving over my words. Words I know to be true, but they’re confusing as fuck. I’ve always been a straight shooter. A man of very little words and more action so things will run how I want them to run. But it seems just from her being here that everything is crumbling around me. My skin-tight, bomb resistant wall is crumbling, and I’m scattering to pick up all the pieces.
It’s the reason I was pissed at her last night. The reason I deemed Vinny’s death her fault when everyone can attest that it wasn’t. She makes me feel things I’m not familiar with. And I can’t explain what that feeling is. I know it isn’t love, because I have that for my brothers, father, mother, and Dom. And this gut-churning, heart-stopping, lung-squeezing feeling isn’t love. Not by a long shot.
Giovanni clears his voice before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he delves his fingers through his long tresses. “Mateo, have you stopped to consider that maybe the reason you’re feeling like this is because you feel more for her than what you even considered feeling?”
“Impossible. It’s all laid out in black and white, G. Marry Carina, solidify the connection to Reap—which we all know we don’t have to do now, then have Reap at our familia’s beck and call whenever we need a clean up job. This is no place for emotions. No place for what ifs. This is how it has to be to get shit done. We’re putting everything on hold because of the shit that happened, and every day we go without getting in contact with our clients is another day the Calvetti name gets dragged through the mud.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Teo,” Dom says quietly as if he’s talking to himself more so than me. “You just haven’t accepted the fact you feel something for Carina. You haven’t accepted the fact she’s been the only one to break past your barrier, and you’re squirreling around trying to glue the pieces back together by yourself. You’ve been this way since your mother died, man. Enough is enough. Stop trying to plan everything. Stop trying to make everything have a reason. It’s okay to let yourself feel. It’s okay to backtrack on how far you’ve come since your momma died—that just means you haven’t been completely broken.”
The stubborn part of me wants to balk at what Giovanni and Domino are saying, but a small part—a part deep down in the very pit of me—knows what they’re saying has a ring of truth in it.
I have been closed off since my mother died. Any person would be when seeing their mother slowly dying in a pool of her own blood, seeing the vacant look in her eyes as a stray tear runs down the side of her cheek.
Any person would lose that part of themselves that kept them alive, happy, and enjoying life. How can someone enjoy life when a special person in their life had theirs stolen from them? How can someone live on without being able to properly grieve the loss of the person they were closest to? How am I supposed to want happiness whenever my mother didn’t get the chance to have hers?
Of course, I harbor these feelings of resentment toward myself for moving on after her death. It’s not because I got to live life and see where the wind takes me and my familia. It’s because I had to grow up a lot faster than anyone should be forced to. I had to be both mother and father to three boys who were supposed to be brothers. I had to teach them right from wrong when our father couldn’t be bothered to take the role.
Instead, he galivanted across town with my younger brother, Lucio, in tow. That has always been something I couldn’t grasp. Lucio shouldn’t have been any more special to him than my other brothers and me. I was the next in line to take over the family business. If anything, I should have been the one to get my father’s attention, while Lucio was stuck at home tending to my younger brothers.
All of these questions bounce around in my head, and I know, without a doubt, I’ll never be able to get the answers. The only person that would be able to give me the insight I’m looking for has kept this shit under lock and key since the moment it happened. There’s no way he will give me the information I’m seeking.
Anjelo Calvetti will take his secrets with him to the grave.
14
CARINA
Being on my own for most of the day has been nothing but a bust. I haven’t been able to find out any information regarding the shooter from yesterday, nor any information from the guys on who they thought it could be. The only thing they tell me is that “the boss has a lot of enemies. It could be anyone.” Like that fucking helps.
I’ve stopped myself countless times from going into Mateo’s study to see what they were up to. No doubt, they’re still trying to break into Vinny’s computer. Amateurs. Give me five minutes, and I could have all the information they want.
You see, I wasn’t only trained in how to kill my target. I was also trained in gathering information. Daniel would sit me down and make me gather as much information as I could from each laptop he came back with from his missions. It took me a few years, but I became so good at what I did, he didn’t even have to bring that stuff down to me. I’d set in the training room, with Rossi behind me, and I could hack into anything my father told me to. If only Mateo would give me the chance to explain that, I’d do it in a heartbeat just to get some answers to this fucked up mess we find ourselves in.
Yet, he won’t give me the time of day. He won’t give me the chance to explain to him that I’m versed in more things than just kicking ass and taking names. Instead, he’s going full force into this, which isn’t what needs to be done. It needs to be handled with finesse. It needs to be approached the same way you would a ticking bomb.
What happens if you approach a bomb too forcefully?
It will self-destruct. And that’s exactly what Mateo is going to cause.
Everything around us will start imploding, causing a domino effect. Each thing that falls further from our reach will cause another, and another, and another, until we have nothing left to figure out who did this.
A commotion from my right catches my attention, and I spy Lucio talking lowly with someone that seems vaguely familiar. He looks like a much older version of Mateo, with the jaded eyes and dark hair, only his are graying at the sides. His form is stocky, yet I know there’s nothing but muscles underneath his suit. When he turns his head toward me, he does a double take, a large smile spreading across his face.
I don’t know, but the only thing that comes to my mind is that I should not trust this person. Something about him gives off a vibe that he’s not here for anything good, and he’s trying to wiggle his way into the fray when we all know there’s not any more room for anyone.
“Well, if it isn’t Reap herself,” he says, patting Lucio on the
shoulder as he slowly makes his way to me, his earlier conversation already forgotten.
The closer he comes to me, the more my hackles rise. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, my heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears. He isn’t right. My mind feels like it’s short-circuiting when he’s around me, and I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. I cannot be held responsible for what my instincts make me do with being subjected to someone such as this man in front of me.
“I’m Anjelo, but you may call me Mr. Calvetti,” he says, offering me his hand.
I don’t take it. Instead, I look from it to him, before my non-existent filter lets me down again. “You are not welcome here. I do not care who you are, what you are to this family, but they have been placed under my protection, and you are not welcome in this house.”
“Carina!” Lucio barks, grabbing my arm.
Without thinking, I jab out with my hand, catching him in the sternum. The hit lands solid, causing him to release me, growling, as he stalks closer.
“He’s not welcome here, Lucio. I don’t give a shit who he is, but he needs to leave,” I seethe, readying myself for a fight.
“That is my goddamn father you’re talking about, bitch! It will do well for you to watch your tone with him.”
Stepping up to him, my chest meets his as his fiery eyes glare daggers into mine. More commotion sounds out all around us, but I can’t be bothered. I won’t hurt Lucio unless I have to, but that man has to fucking go. I don’t know why I’m getting the feeling he’s up to no good, but I always pay attention to my feelings. They’ve never led me astray before.
“If you don’t get him out of this fucking house, I’ll do it myself,” I grind out, forcing him backward as I take a step. “No one will be able to fucking stop me!”
“Carina!” The rough sound of Mateo’s voice causes a slithering feeling to envelope my skin. I shudder, stepping away from Lucio so I can look behind me to see a disappointed Mateo standing next to his brother and Domino.
“Yes?” I ask, already knowing what’s coming.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? That is my pop you’re talking to, and he demands the same respect as everyone in this goddamned house. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Does he really not feel the ire his father puts off? The wave of hatred, slime, and death that waifs from his body? How can no one except for me see it?!
“He’s disloyal, and quite frankly, not welcome.” Widening my stance, I give him a stern look as my tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth. “You need to give me one reason to back down. And it better be a good one, because the only thing I see when I look at him is a traitor.”
“Apologize,” he seethes, taking a step toward me.
“Fuck you! I apologize to no-damn-body, least of all a slimy bastard like him!” I yell in return as every inch of my body fills up with fury.
“Carina! Shut the fuck up before I wire your mouth shut!” he roars as Domino and Giovanni grab his arms to keep him from coming toward me. “You have no goddamn idea how thin the ice you’re treading on is. Yet, you keep walking, and walking, and walking, testing your goddamn luck!”
“Give me a goddamn reason why I should allow him to be here, then. Why I should put your protection at risk. I promised to protect everyone in this house, and I will do just that, but you are the only person I would die for! Now, fucking tell me!”
The entire room is filled with nothing but silence as Mateo regards me. His eyes slowly run over my body from head to toe before they trail their way back to my eyes. A heat I’ve never experienced before overtakes me as I see his dilate to an almost black. His chest rises and falls swiftly, and both hands twitch at his sides to make a move. I don’t know what’s happening between us right now, but something in Mateo’s eyes bleeds of a predator.
A predator sizing up his goddamn prey.
In a motherfucking time like this.
“Mateo, what the fuck are you looking at?!”
“Father,” he says, never breaking his gaze. “Go home. We will continue this discussion later.”
Every part of my body begins thrumming with awareness. And no matter how hard I try to will myself to stay calm, it seems my body has other ideas. A deep, aching throb starts in the apex of my thighs. It’s like it’s connected to each harsh inhale he drags into his frazzled body.
Inhale. Throb.
Exhale. Pressure
Inhale. Throb.
“You’ve got to be—”
“Not another goddamn word!” his voice booms, startling the men around us.
I’m the only one that doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even move a muscle, as my eyes stay trained on his. My stomach quivers from his words, heat barreling through every part of me. It’s confusing because from the movies Dom’s made me watch, I should not be getting horny at a time like this. Nope, if anything, I should be thoroughly pissed because he thinks he can still order me around.
Yet, the wetness already saturating my panties screams another tale. Angry Mateo hits every one of my turn on buttons.
“You need to go upstairs.”
“Now is not the time for this! We have shit we need to do!” I scream-growl.
The first time since we started this staring contest, he breaks his gaze with mine to look over at his brother. “It seems you were right. It’s a good thing I’m not a betting man or I would have lost.”
His words confuse the ever-loving fuck out of me. But I stand tall, pretending as if I know everything. It’s not until his eyes turn back to mine, their black depths scanning me up and down hungrily, that I get the picture. Me standing up to his father, for him—to protect him—made him unbearable with need.
“Seriously?” I groan, tossing a look over to Giovanni, who’s holding a hand over his mouth, fighting a smile. Then, over to Dom, who has tears of laughter in his eyes, but he’s watching the whole scene unfold with rapt attention. “I’m not fucking you because you’re horny over the fact I told your father off. That’s just gross and a new low even for you.”
Never thought I’d say those words. Hell, never thought I would be speaking so freely about sex, period. This needs to digress fast because there’s no way in fuck I’ll be able to go through with this. Nope. Not when the last time we were in a bed in that way, he left to go fuck that bitch.
“Go. Upstairs. Now.”
“Mateo, we do not have time for this! Jesus,” I say, turning toward Giovanni. “What did you all do to him in there?!”
“We made him see the truth,” he replies, winking.
“Jesus jumped up Christ. You were supposed to get into that fucking laptop, not spout love poems to each other.”
“Carina,” Mateo warns, his voice gravelly, deep, and shudderingly sexy.
Why the fuck does it feel like I’m walking the plank? No sane woman would ever refute that to a man that looked, acted, and oozed sex appeal like Mateo, but we have important things that need to be done. There’s no time to mess around.
“I’ll make sure you all get dinner,” Domino says, wiping his eyes. “Everyone fall out, we’re going to search the woods again.”
I watch, mouth agape, as the men just leave me by myself with a half-crazed Italian that hasn’t had pussy in at least a week. Knowing Mateo, that’s the longest he’s been without the slit since he was old enough to pop that male cherry of his. Jesus Christ, those sons of bitches are throwing me to the head wolf, and motherfucking laughing about it. I’ll gut every one of those bastards. I swear it.
Then, it dawns on me. From seemingly nowhere. I have the ability to protect myself from Mateo. I have the ability to demobilize him before he even knew what was coming.
So, why am I still standing here? Why am I still trying to talk him down when I already know the way to get away from him? Do I even want to get away from him? He’s nothing like that good for nothing piece of shit Rossi, that much has been made apparent since coming here. He isn’t the kind to force someone into fu
cking, but he is the kind to coerce them into loving it.
The longer I think about it, the more my body’s reaction to him makes more sense. I want him to fuck me just as much as he wants me to fuck him. We’re both wanting that fissure of time where we don’t want to worry about anything other than the body that’s pressed up against ours. We want to forget, then face all of this shit tomorrow.
We want to feel, where so long we’ve been forced to stay numb.
“Go. Upstairs.”
Cocking a brow, my body makes the decision for me. “Make me.”
His smirk turns into a full maniacal smile, and when paired with his black eyes, it makes him look like a hot-as-fuck devil about to tear up some demon pussy. It’s hot. Electric. And I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy the burn.
“With pleasure,” he replies, growling.
15
MATEO
Goddamn! I’ve never been so hot for someone in my entire life. She thinks I’m going to fuck her raw because she stood up to my father? Fuck no.
I’m going to tear that pussy up because I’ve never, never seen a woman protect what’s hers as fiercely as I do.
She didn’t even bat a motherfucking eye when I threatened her. She merely stood her ground, which is more than I can say for anyone else. Just seeing her standing in all her glory, refusing me, paired with what my brother and Domino said earlier, lit me on fire.
It’s a brand of heat and flame that won’t be extinguished until I’m buried deep inside her hot pussy. I’m going to be lost to this until she’s under me, and I’m swallowing her cries of pleasure as I take her over the edge time and time again.
“Go. Upstairs,” I release in a primal voice.
I expect her to say fuck you, go to hell—I expect her to say anything than what she does. The moment the words slip past her gorgeous, plump lips, I’m done for. There’s no stopping this, no denying the pull between us.
