Becoming the Hitman (Zanetti Famiglia Book 5)

by Hayley Faiman

  “You’ll be at the wedding though?”

  Emilyn smiles. “I’ll be wherever my sister is. Her wedding, and anywhere else, available at any time she wishes to see me. Make sure you tell her.”

  “Yeah,” I grunt.

  “My father, my mother?” Emilyn asks.

  I was afraid she would ask this, and yet, I still didn’t have a speech for her. Lifting a brow, I clear my throat. “Your mother passed years ago, not sure why. Siobahn can probably answer that.”

  “My father?” she asks when I don’t answer the question voluntarily.

  “He was abusing Siobahn. Physically and mentally. He’s turned into a drunk…” My words trail off and I see anger flash in Emilyn’s eyes.

  “You took care of that problem then?”

  I nod my head. “I did,” I agree.

  “Good.”

  She doesn’t say another word as she turns around and walks away, disappearing around the corner. I wait in my office until I hear the front door open, then close, signaling her exiting the condo.

  Only then do I stand to my feet and start to make my way toward my fiancée. I can only hope that she is still willing to marry me in a few days—not that she has a choice, at least at this point. She knows too much to just be allowed to walk away.

  I watch her for a moment, enjoying the silence before the questions that I’m sure will be hurled toward me. I should have told her immediately about Emilyn.

  I should have told her immediately who and what I was, too. Why I was in Ireland. All of it, but I didn’t. She wouldn’t be here with me had I done that and I’m selfish.

  Making my way outside, I don’t approach her immediately, instead, I stay back and continue to watch. She doesn’t act as though she notices my presence, but she slowly turns around and lifts her tear-streaked face up to meet my own.

  “She says she’s happy, Renzo. What kind of life did she have where being a prostitute makes her happy?”

  Her voice is strained, raspy from her crying. I don’t answer immediately, choosing to watch her for a moment, trying to gauge just how angry she is with me versus the situation instead. I can’t quite read her, not yet.

  “An ugly one, cuoricino.”

  Her tears start to fall again and I close the distance between us, unable to watch her cry. Wrapping my arms around her, I gather her close to my body and hold her against my chest. She buries her face against me and cries earnestly.

  “I hate it, all of it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I soothe.

  There is a moment of silence, one where I simply hold her out on the balcony in the cool breeze coming off of the river. We stay that way for long minutes, and I find that I’m not sure I want the moment to end.

  Everything with Siobahn feels so real, especially this, it feels raw. “What happens now?” she whispers, lifting her red splotchy face to look up at me.

  Dipping my chin down, I use the backs of my fingers to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She presses her lips together as her eyes search my own. I’m not sure what she’s looking at or for. She smiles sadly, it doesn’t reach her eyes, then she gently pushes away from me.

  I watch as she turns to look out at the river. I don’t move, my gaze focused on her back and nowhere else. She’s going through a lot, processing quite a bit and I need to be patient, or at least try to be.

  “My sister is a prostitute for your boss,” she whispers before she spins around. “Your boss has women that he trades and sells for sex. I don’t know how to process this.”

  Nodding my head once, I continue to keep my gaze focused on hers. “I’m sure it’s a lot to take in, but it’s mafia, cuoricino. It’s not on the up-and-up, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she breathes. “But I didn’t think that it would affect me this way.”

  “You didn’t think that me being in an illegal industry would ever personally affect you?” I ask. “Massimo spent five years in jail recently. I could go on with the men’s rap sheets, but I won’t. I’ll spare you the details, just know that this is who and what I am and that it will always affect you in every way possible. This is who we will be, Siobahn.”

  There is another long moment of silence as she continues to look over me. “I don’t think I really realized what it meant when you said you were in the mafia.”

  “You’re regretting me?”

  She shrugs a shoulder, her eyes drifting away from mine. “I don’t know,” she admits truthfully.

  I hum, sure that she is regretting me just as I’ve suggested, but she’s not about to say anything, at least right now. She knows that she’s mine and she’s bound to me, forever. She’s agreed to be my wife, but she’s also been taking me bare for weeks. There is nowhere she can go, not now, not ever.

  She’s mine.

  Closing the short distance between us, I lift my hand and cup her cheek. Running my thumb across her skin, I dip my chin and touch my mouth to hers. I don’t deepen the kiss, instead, I continue to keep my mouth against her own.

  “Never regret me, cuoricino. You may hate me, you may despise me and want to leave, but you can’t and I will always make it up to you, any way that I can.”

  “You can’t bring my sister back,” she exhales against my lips.

  “I can’t,” I agree. “But it wasn’t my famiglia that did it to her. We may have traded for her, but we did not take her, she was given to us and we thought it was willingly.”

  Sliding my tongue along her bottom lip, I taste her. “She’s not the same. She likes it and that hurts the most.”

  I hum, taking a step back and looking down into her eyes. “She isn’t the same, you expect her to be ten still?” I ask.

  Siobahn shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know what I expected. Honestly, I never expected her to be alive, let alone standing in front of me. I couldn’t have ever imagined she’d be telling me that she sells her body for sex and that she likes it.”

  Her voice is soft, but her tone holds a bitterness that I don’t think I could ever forget. Sliding my hand from her cheek, I wrap it around the back of her neck and massage her gently.

  “You just need to get to know one another again. Strip away the expectations. You may find that you have more in common than you think, or at least can be friends.”

  Dropping my forehead against hers, I inhale her scent, wondering just how in the fuck she isn’t pissed off at me. How? I’m not going to ask though, I’m not even going to bring it up. I have a feeling she’ll be angry with me soon enough.

  I’ll take that anger too. Because I know that I’ll be able to work it out of her and together we’ll move on. She and her sister will be okay, but it will just be a new relationship, a different one from what she’d imagined. She’ll have to mourn what she thought they would have and accept the new relationship for what it will be.

  SIOBAHN

  Renzo and I drive silently toward the airport. I can’t keep my mind off of Emilyn with each passing moment. She’s not what I thought I would find if I found her alive. Not at all. I thought I would find a wounded bird, but she’s not that. She is confident and knows exactly who she is and she’s okay with that.

  I don’t know if I will ever understand what my sister has gone through, but I want to get to know her again, I want to have her in my life.

  “You’re okay?” Renzo asks as he pulls into the Cell Phone Lot to wait for my friends. They promised to text as soon as they had landed and were through customs.

  Am I okay?

  No.

  Yes.

  Maybe.

  No.

  Definitely no.

  “I don’t know,” I admit.

  He nods his head. “That’s okay. You will be, eventually.”

  “Will I?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “Yeah, cuoricino. You will.”

  I don’t get the opportunity to say anything else, my phone goes off and the text alert is the message we’ve been waiting for from Kathleen.

  “They’re here.”

&nb
sp; Renzo grins and tells me to text them and let them know that we’re on our way to the arrivals pickup. My belly flips at the thought of my friends finally being here. I should be excited and I am, but I’m also very tentative and nervous about what they are about to observe and what they will think about it all.

  The fact is, Renzo is dangerous. I’m afraid they’ll find out just who he is. I’m afraid of a lot right now and I’m also not in the position to change anything about my current situation.

  I will marry Renzo, even if he scares the shit out of me. I will get my sister back, or at least the woman that she is now. I will be happy, I don’t know how, but it will happen. Renzo will smile for me, his eyes will smile just for me, and we will find love with one another.

  The car door opens and Kathleen’s voice is the first thing that I hear.

  “I can’t believe I’m really in America, in New York. Pinch my arse, someone, please. I need to make sure it’s real.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  SIOBAHN

  Kathleen, John, and Andrea talk the entire way back to the house, through dinner, and then later when we have drinks on the balcony.

  If I thought that they would figure out that Renzo is in the mafia then I really don’t have anything to worry about, because none of them stop talking long enough to observe his life—our life.

  “You’ve got your dress, yeah?” Andrea asks.

  I hum, nodding my head as I bring the glass of wine to my lips. It doesn’t taste as sweet as it used to. Life has become a bit more bitter since learning about my sister and her life this morning.

  “You okay?” Andrea asks softly as Kathleen rambles on about my hair and the wedding. She’s on a high, adrenaline flowing through her veins from her trip and arriving here.

  I shrug a shoulder, taking another drink from my glass. “I will be,” I rasp.

  “Will you?”

  I wasn’t going to tell them, hadn’t planned on it. Renzo is sitting next to me, his hand taking mine and squeezing it gently. “Tell them, cuoricino.”

  “No,” I rasp.

  “Tell us?” John asks, catching the tail end of the conversation.

  Turning my head, I look up at Renzo who is watching me intently. He lifts his chin slightly in a silent urge to continue. He wants me to tell them, to tell all of them about Emilyn. I haven’t processed it myself, I’m not sure that I want anyone else to know.

  “Emilyn is alive,” I blurt out.

  Everyone stares at me in silence, even Kathleen, whose mouth is hanging open mid-sentence. Taking another drink, I empty the glass and place it down on the table. I don’t say anything immediately, but Renzo does for me.

  “She is alive, but I suppose all of you can imagine that she isn’t the same as she was when she was a girl, yeah?”

  Kathleen turns her head with a jerk to look at him, and Andrea nods a couple of times, but John just watches us. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I don’t get a chance to really watch him, not when Kathleen makes her way in front of me, her stunned silence apparently now broken.

  “But she’s alive. Different or the same, doesn’t matter much because she’s breathing,” she snaps.

  My entire body jerks from her words. She’s right. It doesn’t matter much. She sells her body for money, but that was what she was trying to tell me, wasn’t it? That she sells her body. Not that someone uses it for their sick pleasures, but that she is in control.

  Turning to Renzo, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. “It’s about control. I think I understand now,” I murmur.

  “Do you?” he asks.

  Nodding my head, the rest of the room disappears as I watch him. “I do,” I murmur. “It’s about her having the power now. She does and she likes that fact. Maybe she even likes what she does?” I ask.

  Renzo clears his throat and shifts in his seat, he’s uncomfortable and it makes me think that he probably knows exactly how much she likes her job. I should hate him for that. I should hate him for a lot of things, but I can’t seem to do that. I don’t know why, but I just can’t.

  “She probably does,” he agrees without giving anything else away.

  Smiling, I nod my head. “Then I think I should accept the woman that she is now. Even if I don’t particularly like that part of her life.”

  “I think that’s wise, cuoricino.”

  Licking my lips, I hear Andrea clear her throat. “You want to tell the rest of us about this, or no?”

  I spend the rest of the evening telling them all about Emilyn, well as much as I can without giving away something that she may not want the world to know. Though, I’m not sure she would particularly care if anyone knew about her career. She seems pretty proud of it—at peace with it.

  They all three stare at me with the same shock that I had not long ago. There is no other way to feel about the news.

  None.

  Then, they do something that surprised the hell out of me. The three of them surround me and wrap me in their arms. They hug me. My tears flow, again. It seems as though I will never stop crying. I’ve been crying for ten years and even after finding Emilyn, they haven’t dried up.

  “You’re okay? Really?” Kathleen asks on a whisper as we break our hug.

  Nodding, I lick my lips, tasting the saltiness of my tears. “I am. I think.”

  “You aren’t, but you will be,” John announces.

  Shifting my gaze to meet his, I nod my head. “You’re right. I’m not, but I will be.”

  We all have one more drink, then say our goodnights. Everyone goes their separate ways, but Renzo wraps his hand around my waist and guides me toward our bedroom. Once we’re inside the room, he releases me and turns to close and lock the door.

  “Renzo?” I ask.

  He lifts his head, his amber gaze finding mine. “You’ll be okay?” he asks.

  “I will,” I agree.

  “You aren’t angry with me?”

  I’m not used to seeing him without his extreme amount of confidence, but right now he doesn’t have it, he’s vulnerable and I find that I love it. Closing the distance between us, I reach for his hands and take them with mine.

  “I know that I should be. I assume you’ve been with Emilyn in the past. That should really anger me.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  He says the words as a statement, not a question. I nod my head. “It doesn’t. As long as I know it’s the past and there are no feelings there.”

  “Siobahn. That is a part of my life that I am not comfortable discussing with you.”

  “You mean the part where you list the hookers you’ve paid for sex?” I ask.

  His brow arches and he shakes his head once before he lifts his hands and wraps them around my waist, jerking me toward him. I topple over a bit, falling against his chest.

  “Yes, cuoricino. That part exactly,” he snaps.

  Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I try not to smile, so instead I bite the inside of my cheek. “Is it over? Will you be with them again?”

  I’m naïve for even asking and expecting a truthful answer, but I still do, and do. His amber eyes search mine for a moment before he speaks. “It’s over, cuoricino. I’m with you.”

  “Only me.”

  He nods his head. “Only you, Siobahn.”

  Licking my lips, I lean forward and touch them to his. “That’s all I want.”

  “You’re all I want,” he grunts before he nips my bottom lip and slips his tongue inside of my mouth, tasting me, consuming me, owning me.

  RENZO

  I want to make her scream, make her ache, but the wedding is in a few days and our house is full of guests. I feel desperate and I know that I shouldn’t, however, I imagined her leaving me as soon as she found out about Emilyn, but she hasn’t. I’m not sure what this means, if she’s going to hold it against me and torture me later or not.

  Sliding my hands down to her ass, I squeeze her gently, then pick her up. She wraps her legs around my waist as I walk toward th
e side of the bed. Continuing to kiss her, I think about asking more questions, but I decide against it.

  I’m not in the mood to talk right now.

  Lowering myself to my knees, I set her down on the edge of the bed. Wrapping my hands around the sides of her thighs, I squeeze her flesh before I slide my fingers up her legs, shifting her skirt to wrap around her waist.

  “Renzo,” she breathes with a sigh as I shimmy her panties down her legs.

  Without me having to tell her, she spreads her legs wide for me, a silent invitation for something that I give that she likes so much. Leaning toward her, I keep my gaze focused on her as I draw closer toward her cunt.

  One of her hands lifts and she threads her fingers through my hair, gripping it tightly before she yanks me forward. I chuckle, loving how her confidence has grown in such a short time—at least in the bedroom.

  Flattening my tongue, I taste all of her, swirling around her clit before I suck it deep and begin to flick it with my tongue. I can feel her thighs tremble next to my ears and I have to hide my smile as I continue to give her what she needs from me.

  I bring her close to her release, but don’t let her fall over the edge, not yet at least. Slipping two fingers inside of her, I curl them as I bring her closer and closer keeping her teetering. Her fingers grip my hair harder, pulling me closer to her.

  She’s close, climbing and climbing. Pulling away from her, I hear her softly cry out. Keeping my fingers inside of her, I continue to make slow come-hither motions. She’s breathing heavily, one hand gripping my hair, the other twisting the sheets at her side.

  “Don’t leave me like this,” she breathes as she looks down at me, her face flush, a light sheen of sweat on her chest and face—fucking gorgeous.

  Smiling, I continue to slowly move my fingers in and out of her. “I wouldn’t dream of it, cuoricino.”

  Slipping my fingers from her body, I stand to my feet as her hand falls from my hair. She’s still panting heavily, as she watches me, waiting for me to give her the relief she desires. Reaching for my belt, I unbuckle, unzip, and undress quickly.