Forgivable Sins: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 2)

by Adelaide Forrest

  After feeling on edge about it all day long, the anxiety of him potentially telling Yavin about the kiss just felt like too much. "Yavin, I'm all settled in here. Why don't I just stay? Besides, we both know you don't want to play nursemaid and don't have a patient bone in your body. I'll demand you feed me. Lino feeds me, and I like food. No offense, but burnt toast just doesn't compare—"

  "Samara, shut the fuck up," Yavin laughed, and I scrunched my nose. Lino's face was nothing but entertained and warm as he looked at me. He knew me so well, there was no doubt in my mind that he knew exactly how nervous I had to be to ramble like an idiot. "She's my sister. It's my job to take care of her, so she's coming home with me."

  Lino's humor faded so quickly my breath caught, and he leveled my brother, his other best friend with a glare that would make most men tremble. "I promise you; she will not be walking out that door."

  Yavin's head jerked back, and he stared at Lino for a moment before sighing. Given that they worked together, Yavin managed Tease, the Bellandi owned strip club; I knew Yavin saw Lino at his most cutthroat. Whatever he saw in Lino's face made him back down with a sigh.

  "Fineee," he drew out. "But if anything happens to her on your watch, you'll have to answer to me."

  I exhaled in relief, snatching the whiskey from Lino's hands.

  I still needed to get drunk.

  Sixteen

  Samara

  "Time to get dressed," Lino said, patting my hip to signal me to sit up. I'd been comfortable with my head resting on a pillow on his lap, and I didn't want to move.

  "Why do I need to get dressed?" I'd spent a week in my pajamas or leggings and loved every minute. While I enjoyed getting all dolled up for work, that didn't carry over to other facets of my life. I was the queen of comfy. He didn't answer, instead scooting his body out from under me and bending down to pick me up and carry me to his bedroom. My apprehension rose, because unlike many it was when Lino said nothing that I really had to worry. "Lino?"

  "Don't fight me on this," he said harshly. "You won't win."

  "I don't understand what I'm not supposed to fight you on," I pouted. I assumed, given his brooding, that pouting was probably better than snapping. My discomfort meant those were the only two options, especially when he sat me on the bed and fumbled through my clothes in the closet. His weekly housekeeper had come, taken one look at my clothes exploding out of my suitcase, and shaken her head before tucking them all away neatly. As if they belonged there. As if I belonged there.

  I didn't have much cause to go in the closet, Lino's ridiculous restriction on my walking usually meant that he grabbed my clothes and set them out in the bathroom for me. Or so I'd thought, anyway.

  But the mass of white fabric he pulled out of the closet was one that I knew I had never, ever seen in my life.

  It was casual and sleeveless with a plunging neckline.

  Beautiful, but there was an obvious problem.

  It was a wedding dress.

  I swallowed loudly, looking into his stone-cold face. "What is that?" I whispered. He turned with a scoff, returning to the closet and emerging with a sundress for me to wear.

  "Don't play dumb. You know exactly what this is."

  "Okay," I agreed with a sigh. Apparently, we were having this conversation. "What are you doing with a wedding dress?"

  "We are getting married in two hours."

  I think I blinked. Several times. And then I broke off into laughter that was so strong it felt like it tore my lungs in two. I bent over, wheezing between my knees. That he had kept a straight face while he delivered that line was probably the funniest part of the joke. When I finally straightened and wiped the tears from my eyes, Lino stared at me. That breathtaking face was carved in resignation, far too serious for the joke I'd assumed it was. "What are you talking about?"

  He sighed, depositing the dress on the bed next to me and kneeling on the floor. One hand went to each of my knees, pressing them apart until he could insert his body between them, and his face was nearly level with mine. "The best protection I can offer you is my name," he explained.

  Understanding dawned, and I realized in that moment that while I'd thought him joking, part of me had hoped. Stupidly, I hoped it would be the declaration of love I'd always dreamed of. A misguided, but genuine, grand gesture.

  In reality, it was a means to an end.

  It meant nothing. Even after his kiss and words that we would explore something between us. I realized he must have known this was coming when he kissed me, and of course he had. Obviously, he would expect marriage to give him certain rights to me.

  All men did.

  "You're protecting me," I whispered. "By marrying me."

  "Being my wife means you're completely off-limits. The man Connor owes money to can't come after you to settle the debt." His thumbs traced circles on my knees through my leggings, and I stared at him blankly.

  Despite knowing that he meant well, despite him just trying to keep me safe, it felt like something broke inside me.

  Reality crashed back in, filling the space where I'd let hope build temporarily. In the wake of feeling so full from the time I'd spent with Lino and all the cuddling, it seemed hollow inside me with the void that loss of hope left me with.

  Empty.

  "No." I pulled my legs onto the bed, crawling away to stand on the other side and go to the closet. He seemed frozen; stuck to the spot I'd left him. I hurried to shove some things back into the suitcase I'd brought with me. I knew when he kissed me that it could only end in disaster. I just hadn’t expected how soon that disaster would burn everything to the ground.

  "No?" he asked finally, and I looked through the closet door to see him unfurling his long, lean muscles to standing. Something in his posture gave me pause, somehow made him seem so much larger than he normally was with all his swagger.

  "No," I repeated in a whisper, zipping my bag closed and going into the bedroom. I had to pass through to get to my phone downstairs so I could call Yavin to pick me up.

  He sidestepped into the doorway to block me in, his dark eyes glittering dangerously.

  My heart stuttered in my chest, pulsing like a warning.

  Danger.

  Danger.

  It seemed to throb with every beat, and I backed away a step when he took one step toward me. "I do not recall asking," he said slowly.

  "You don't just get to decide we're getting married! I am never getting married again," I hissed. "I've been divorced for three days!"

  His gaze darkened, his lips twisting in the beginning of a snarl as savagery took over his face. "That wasn't a real marriage. No man treats his wife the way he hurt you."

  My voice was barely a whisper when I risked everything to stand my ground. He'd lost his damn mind. "Neither is this."

  He took another step toward me, nostrils flaring when his chest and torso pressed against mine. I dared to glare up at him when he cupped my cheek gently. It gave me a moment of comfort, a moment of reassurance that my sweet Lino was still in there. Somewhere. "You will get dressed. We will go to Matteo’s where the priest is waiting for us, and when we get there you will put on the fucking dress, Samara."

  "Or what?" I ground out. Something inside me needed to rebel, needed to know just how far he would take this. I didn't know if it was that part of me he'd broken by admitting our wedding would be for my safety, or it had merely stoked the flame of whatever Connor created when he betrayed me.

  "You will not leave this house. You won't return to work. I will keep you locked up in a gilded cage where only I can hear you sing, Little Dove. I will not risk you, even if it means I have to make you hate me to keep you safe."

  I huffed out a breath in surprise as I stared up at him in shock, my bottom lip trembling as tears burned the back of my throat. His thumb caressed my cheekbone, as if he could feel how that break inside me cracked even larger.

  Like a fault line, snapping my world in two.

  The two sides of the lin
e warred within me, the one pleading me to take it for what it was. Lino would be mine, my husband.

  But the other side clung to reality. That it wasn't real, and it never would be.

  “Then you’re no better than him!” I hissed. “Trapping me in a marriage that I don’t want like this.” His face contorted in pain, and I immediately regretted the words. I knew he was different to the depths of my soul, but I wouldn’t let another man make me a prisoner in my own life.

  His eyes darkened as he stared down at me, his jaw clenching in his anger. “I am nothing like him. Everything I do is to keep you safe. Everything. Even this.”

  "You wouldn't do this to me," I whispered, but the tear that wet Lino's thumb said otherwise. He would. I knew Lino meant every word he ever said to me. It turned out he'd even meant it when he said he would marry me one day, though he couldn't have known it at the time.

  "When have you ever known me to say I'll do something and not follow through?" His voice turned sad, melancholy, as if he could sense just how close to the breaking point I hovered. "Let me keep you safe, vita mia."

  I shuddered out a breath, feeling my nostrils flare as I tried to find the words for what I needed to say. "If I do this, you'll let me leave? Go to work?"

  Ever the most honest person I knew, he gave me an answer he knew I wouldn't want. "You'll have your own security, but yes. You'll be allowed to come and go as needed."

  I swallowed before nodding. I knew that after what had happened to Ivory, Lino wouldn't take any chances with my safety. The wife of a Bellandi was a valuable commodity, even one who wasn't a true wife. No Bellandi would tolerate the insult that came with taking something of theirs away. "I'll never forgive you for this," I whispered. I knew the words were true. The sting of betrayal coursed through me that he would force me to do something I didn't want to do. Something I thought he would never do to me, even if it was for my own safety.

  I trusted him, and he'd broken that.

  "You will. It may take time, but there's no divorce for Bellandi's. We have a lifetime together." His lips touched my forehead briefly before he withdrew. He grabbed the dress off the bed, snagging one of his suits from the closet and made for the door.

  “Lino!” I protested, trailing after him in a flurry of movement. “So put a guard on me. I don’t have to be your wife to be protected. I’ll do whatever you say to stay safe. I promise. Just please, don’t make me do this,” I sobbed.

  He spun back to look at me, the savage look in his eyes making me flinch back a step-in self-preservation. “Get dressed,” he growled, striding out the door without another word. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. Ivory will help you with your makeup when we get there.”

  He closed the door behind him, leaving me staring at the sundress with tears on my cheeks. With a last silent sob, I went to the bathroom to blow my nose.

  It would take some creative makeup for them to cover up the redness around my nose, but I knew they would do it.

  If I had to get married, I wouldn't do it looking like a charity case.

  Even if it was true.

  ✽✽✽

  I got dressed, but not with the intention of going with Lino.

  No matter what he threatened, I couldn't handle the thought of marrying another man who didn't love me. Of suffering through a lifetime in a marriage where I loved my husband more than he would ever love me.

  I crept into the hallway as quietly as I could, making my way down the stairs to get to the living room. If I could get to my phone, I could call Yavin to come get me. He may not have been as powerful as Lino, but he would at least help me.

  As soon as I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I hurried to the living room. My feet were still bare but for socks, more helpful in sneaking around the house. I let out a sigh of relief when I made it to the room undetected but whirled around in confusion when my phone wasn't sitting on the table like it should have been.

  "Looking for this?" Lino asked and I whirled around to stare at him in the doorway to the hall. He'd already dressed in his suit and the dress was nowhere to be found, but my purple phone was in his hand for a moment before he tucked it into his pants pocket.

  "That's the second time I've caught you with my phone," I accused. "If it wasn't password protected, I'd wonder if you'd been snooping through it."

  The smirk that overtook his face lacked any of the warmth I was used to seeing on him, a sardonic look that held no amusement at my attempts to derail him from the idea of a wedding.

  There wouldn't be a wedding.

  "My birthday wasn't the most creative of pass codes, Little Dove." His face twitched in arrogance, and I fought back the flush of shame that heated my cheeks. "Do you know how I knew it would be yours?"

  I shook my head, swallowing as he stepped toward me slowly.

  "Because yours is mine." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, some of his tense features softening the moment he touched me. "Go get your shoes."

  "No. I'm not going anywhere with you." I swatted his hand away, and the way his eyes went molten again made me swallow with anxiety. Something changed in that moment, like the flip of a switch back to the side of him that I never had to deal with. With a growl, he leaned forward and hefted me up onto his shoulder. I shrieked, punching him in his overly toned ass. "Put me down you overgrown baboon!" I screamed as he turned and strode for the front door. "Lino!"

  "Quiet, Samara. It didn't have to be this way, but you're too fucking stubborn to just listen to me. So we'll do it the hard way."

  "You asshole!" Cold air hit my thighs, making my skin pebble with goosebumps the moment he flung the door open and stepped outside. I jostled on his shoulder as he hurried down the stairs to where the car waited at the top of the driveway. I lifted to glance over his shoulder at where we went, finding a familiar figure jumping out of the car. He grabbed the rear door handle, and for once Lino didn't seem to protest that someone else opened a door for me. "Georgio, don't you dare!"

  "Sorry, Miss Mahoney," he murmured, his face flushing in the face of my fury.

  Lino tossed me off his shoulder, catching me into his arms somehow and hauling me into the car before I could even find a way to dislodge from his grip. I immediately went for the other door, tugging at it furiously when it wouldn't open. They'd enabled the damn child locks.

  "Lino, so help me God, let me out of this car right now!" I demanded as he climbed in next to me, taking a seat and straightening his tie while I raged at him. "This isn't funny."

  "Do I look like I'm fucking joking?" he asked, and the car jolted into motion as Georgio pulled out of the driveway. It was a short distance to Matteo's house, and wouldn't leave me with much time to convince him just how bad an idea this was. But logic had evaded me, and I felt like nothing more than a cornered animal. I flinched away when he tried to reach for me, my body coiled tight to fight him off. "Dammit, Samara! This is for your own good."

  "There are better ways. This isn't right," I argued, and he reached out and wrapped his hands around me. Tugging me into his lap, he held me close while I squirmed.

  "Shh. There's nothing more right than this, Little Dove," he softened, and I collapsed into him with a whimper. "It's always been you and me. It will always be you and me, Samara. You have to let me take care of you."

  It felt like all the fight disappeared with those words, like they struck something inside me. It had always been the two of us, which was why it hurt so much that he would risk what we had for something so unnecessary.

  His jacket was wet from my tears by the time we got to Matteo's house.

  He was nice enough to pretend he didn't notice.

  ✽✽✽

  When we finally pulled inside the front gates, Lino set me on the seat and stood from the car. I didn't flinch when he reached in to grab me. Everything in my body felt melancholic like it was totally separated from the racing thoughts in my head. Georgio followed behind us, grabbing the dress out of the passenger seat.

  Don op
ened the front door for us, and as soon as Lino swept me inside, he set me on my feet. A glance down at my socks made me grimace. I must have looked ridiculous, stepping out of the house without shoes, but I only had a minute to feel the horror of it before Don filled my vision.

  His fingers reached out, tentatively touching the light, faded bruises on my throat. The sound of footsteps coming into the foyer interrupted the moment, and he cleared his throat as his nostrils flared. He turned to stare at Ivory where she stood beside Matteo, Scar, and Enzo. "You can cover this up, yes?" he asked Ivory. She nodded, her brow furrowing as tears stung her eyes.

  "Yeah Don, I can cover it up," she agreed.

  "Good. My girl does not get married with any trace of that stronzo on her skin. Do you hear me?" he asked, and I sniffled back my tears at the rage in his voice. How pissed he had to have been to curse. Drawing me into his arms, he squeezed me so tight I thought I might stop breathing.

  "I'm okay," I whispered, but he never responded. His body just shook as he ran his hands over my head.

  "I hear you, sweetheart," Ivory murmured. Don pulled away, nodding to her and blinking back his own watery eyes before he turned for the kitchen. With the sudden empty space in front of me, I tried not to feel uncomfortable. I'd been in Matteo's home before, but something felt different, like there'd been a shift since the last time Ivory had invited me for lunch.

  Every face was familiar—someone I knew and spent time with—but the way they looked at me had changed. Matteo's face was twisted in fury, his eyes stuck on my neck and only Ivory clearing her throat made him drop the terrifying look. Lino tugged me into his side briefly, kissing my temple as my eyes drifted down to the blanketed bundle that Matteo held in his arms.

  "I'll watch over my Little Moon, while you help Samara get ready, Angel," Matteo murmured, pressing a brief kiss to his wife's lips before turning his attention back to the little bundle in his arms. She stepped forward, taking my arm and glaring at Lino briefly as if daring him to deny her right to take me away.