I go into my private bathroom, gathering everything I might need to patch her back up, and then I head to the glass-top bar. I scan the shelves and pick up a half-full bottle of bourbon. With two triple shots in hand, I’m ready for my impromptu surgery.
I walk back into the living room, kneeling next to her on the couch. Her eyes open a crack, her lips curling upward the slightest bit. “Are you sure you’re qualified to do this?” she asks, nodding at my pile of supplies.
“Are you sure you wanna question my skills right now when you have a hole in your side?” I bite back, handing her one of the shot glasses.
“What if I get an infection?”
“Is that the worse-case scenario?”
“If I die, it is.”
“I won’t let that happen,” I murmur, nodding to her shirt. “I need to get to your stitches.”
She slowly lifts the hem of her shirt, exposing the blood-soaked gauze taped over her wound. Her eyes tangle with mine as I gently separate the gauze from her inflamed skin. A gasp escapes her lips as I peel it away.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, peering at the wound. It’s pretty miraculous that she didn’t pull the whole damn thing apart back at Sil’s place.
“It’s okay,” she says. “Just do what you need to do. Fast.” She gulps down the shot and lets out a loud sigh. “I might need another. And then another after that.”
“That won’t be a problem.” I narrow my eyes and work quickly. She keeps her eyes squeezed shut but never makes a sound.
Fierce as hell.
A few minutes later, I’m taping a fresh piece of gauze over her wound. “Good as new,” I murmur. “You can open your eyes now.”
Her eyelids flutter open and once again, I find myself completely strung up in her net.
It’s a very fucking dangerous place to be, mainly because her father is undoubtedly going to try to skewer my ass once he finds out that I killed one of his operatives and snatched his daughter.
I grasp my own shot glass and slug it back, the fiery liquid burning a path to my empty stomach.
Yep, I’m gonna need another triple, too.
I tap my fingertips on the coffee table, trying like hell to keep my eyes to myself. “You should eat something.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll eat when I’m hungry.” She covers her face with her hands almost immediately after her icy tone frosts the air between us. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve any of this. I’m just…” Aria struggles to sit up on the couch. “Never mind. I didn’t mean it.”
I rise to my feet, turning my back on her and walking to the bar with my shot glass clutched in hand. “Forget it. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
“Yeah, but that’s no excuse to be a bitch. You’re trying to help.”
But even as she speaks the words, I know there’s still a seed of doubt behind them. I pour myself another shot. “You still don’t trust me.”
“Do you trust anyone, Vincenzo? I mean, really and truly? I trusted one person, my mother. And now she’s dead.”
“Call me Vince,” I say. “That’s what my family calls me.”
“Fine, Vince. Who do you trust?”
And there it is. The question I never wanted to actually answer out loud.
Ever.
“Nobody,” I say in a tight voice.
“Why?” she presses.
“Because in my line of work, things have to be black and white. There can never be any gray. Gray gets people hurt. Or killed. And since nobody in my family sees things the way I do, they usually cause major shit storms because they’re drowning in fucking gray,” I grunt.
So many examples of my brothers’ bonehead choices come to my mind.
So many enemies created.
So much bloodshed.
So many lives still at risk.
But staring at Aria makes me second-guess my ability to sidestep the gray.
If things were all black and white, I’d have driven her straight to Villani’s place, wished her well, and then ran, not walked, the fuck away.
Instead, I brought her here, convincing myself I needed to keep her close for safety purposes.
And then, I divulged my deepest secret.
I wish I could chalk it all up to the booze.
But really, it’s because I’ve been swallowed up by an all-consuming gray cloud.
How’s that for irony?
I toss back the shot.
It doesn’t help.
I’m still paddling through shit creek, going nowhere fast.
“So now do you get why I don’t trust anyone fully?” she asks. “If I do, that gray will swallow me whole and I can’t let that happen. Not when I have a war to fight.”
“But you still came here with me,” I say, inching toward her. “Why?”
She averts her eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Because even though I promised my mother I would, I’m afraid to go to Paolo’s. My father will look for me there. He knew my mother was planning to connect with Paolo. That’s why he followed us to Sicily in the first place. How am I supposed to go there and put him and his family in danger?”
“He’s worried about you both,” I say.
“He’s better off not knowing where I am,” she mutters, her eyes falling on the end table next to her. She struggles to slide closer, her fingers closing around a blueish-green Murano glass sculpture. It’s an abstract piece that looks like a slice of the sea. My mother collected the pieces when she was alive, and I brought that one here because I knew how much she loved the beach. It was fitting that a piece of her is here in her favorite place.
Aria holds it up in front of her face, her hand shaking slightly. “My mother had a piece just like this back in Croatia. She got it in Venice. She always loved it there and she’d always bring home a new Murano piece that would remind her of the beauty of Venice.” Tears pool in her eyes. “She wanted to take me there so we could experience it together. Someday…” Her shoulders shudder and she lays the piece in her lap before covering her face. “But we never got to have our someday. We’ll never experience Venice together. We’ll never experience so much together.” Sobs erupt from her chest, tears now flowing down her face as she struggles to her feet. She clutches the glass to her heart, staggering toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back of the house. “I’m the reason why she’s gone! It was my idea to free those girls! When I found out, I couldn’t—” Aria pauses to sniffle. “I couldn’t just leave them there to be raped or sold or…killed.” Her breaths become short, sharp gasps. “She said he’d kill me if he found out. Told me he’d threatened to kill me if she ever tried to leave him, that he’d do the same to me if I betrayed him. But I didn’t listen. I thought I could get away with it, that I could save us all, and now he’s killed her!” Her wails echo in the otherwise silent space. “Mama, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
I cross the room and open my arms, letting her fall into them. She still hasn’t given me the whole story, but I’ve pieced enough of it together to figure out what happened. She exposed him and his illicit business, and now he’s out for blood. The fact that said blood is his daughter’s doesn’t matter.
For people like Mirko Lovrić, ‘family first’ is evidently a foreign concept.
“I can’t stay, Vince,” she whispers. “If he finds me here, he’ll kill us both. You’ve already done enough for me. I can’t be responsible for you dying, too. But I don’t know where to go, what’s safe. I thought Mama and I would be protected in that house, but somehow, he found us. Just like he always promised he would if we tried to run. He won’t stop until he finds me.” She pulls away slightly, her eyes red and puffy. “But that’s the only way I can win.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “He has to die. And I need to be the one to pull the trigger. Me, nobody else.”
I cup her face and tilt her head upward. “I promised you that I’d keep you safe and I meant it.”
“But you don’t understand…yo
u don’t know how evil he is. I’ve seen what he’s capable of doing. He killed his own wife in cold blood, and would have killed me if I hadn’t gotten away on that moped!”
“I’m a little offended that you have zero faith in my abilities.” I quirk an eyebrow. “Is it because I let you knee me in the balls before? Because in my defense, I was kind of focused more on the scalpel and trying not to get stabbed.”
“You were sloppy,” she sniffles. “I already told you that.”
“I saved your life,” I murmur.
“And then you delivered me right into the jaws of hell when we got to your uncle’s place.”
“We got away, didn’t we?”
She lets out a snort. “Yeah, no thanks to you.”
My eyes widen. “Ouch.”
Aria tilts her head to one side. “Who are you, anyway? Because if you’re supposed to be some kind of an enforcer, here’s a little tip for you. You need to get better at your job, or someone’s going to ice you.” Her lips lift slightly.
“That’s a little brutal.” But she’s smiling…at least a little bit. It shouldn’t matter to me. Hell, it can’t matter, because every second more that she’s here, she creeps deeper and deeper under my skin.
With her in my arms, I forget about the noose that’s choking me.
The cartel that wants to destroy our legacy.
My responsibilities as the head of this family.
And the harsh realization that blood isn’t always thicker than water, a jagged fucking pill to swallow.
“You should let me go,” she says in a soft voice.
“You don’t turn your back on family,” I say, my voice thick. “And like I said, Paolo is family.”
“Is that the only reason why you’re helping me? Because of Paolo?”
My lips part, but before any words can come out, the heavy metal ring tone blares out, shattering the silence hanging between us. I pull out my phone and stare at the screen before clicking to accept the call.
“Tommy,” I say, clearing my throat. “What’s up?”
“Hey, listen, I need to talk to you about something. This shit with Salazar isn’t adding up. I’ve been looking at the numbers for the past couple of months and we’re losing money, Vince. A lot. I have a bad feeling about this deal we worked out. I think he’s screwing us.”
I rake a hand through my hair. The last thing I need is Tommy nosing around with the cartel. He’s not exactly subtle, and if someone rubs him the wrong way, they might just end up in a stew pot. “Listen, you just focus on the restaurant. Don’t worry about the money. I’ll take a look at everything. Salazar has a lot to lose with this restaurant investment. He’s not gonna fuck us,” I lie. But if I know Tommy, he won’t listen to a goddamn thing I say. And if he pulls anything…if he alerts the cartel that we’re onto them…shit. That’s gonna rain hellfire down on all of us and blow apart my plans to destroy Salazar. “Remember, you have a lot of cash coming in and out of that place. That’s the whole point of the restaurant as the front. It helps us keep the money clean. And with all of the work being done on the restaurant, you might have missed some receipts when you were looking at the numbers.”
“Yeah…” he says slowly. “Maybe.”
“Your job is to handle the restaurant. Mine is to take care of everything else, okay? Focus on the menus and whatever the hell overpriced concoctions you’re gonna serve people. I’ve got the rest covered.”
He snickers. “Yeah, yeah. I got some ideas for the opening. You want me to come out there this weekend? I can try out some new recipes.”
“If you popped anyone this week, the answer is no. I don’t care how creative you think you can get with your meat dishes. I’m not interested.”
“Come on, I’d never serve you the real scumbags. They’d be too gamey. Only the high-class guys for you. With a side of cannoli cream, of course.”
“You know I don’t eat that crap.”
“Yeah, because you’re such a tight ass. You’d like it, though. And I guarantee that all the sugar, creamer, and chocolate would make you less of a dick.”
“If I were less of a dick, none of you clowns would do your jobs right.”
“You don’t give us enough credit. Lemme come out to the villa. I’ll blow your mind with my new zabaglione recipe. You’re allowed to lose control once in a while.”
That’s the thing. I’m not. I can’t.
Ever.
My eyes flicker toward Aria’s.
And yet, here I am, harboring a woman whose father is a fucking sociopath who wants her and anyone else who crosses him dead.
Lose control?
Oh hell, who am I kidding?
I’ve already lost it.
Chapter Nine
Aria
“He attacked her, Mirko! Our baby girl! And you let it happen, you bastard! You let him hurt her, over and over again!”
Glass shatters against the wall and I slap my hands over my ears, bile rising in my throat. My chest aches as I gasp for air, the quiet sobs muffled by the pillow I dove into when Papa charged into the master bedroom.
“She can put our whole existence in jeopardy!” Papa roars as another loud crash follows. Mama screams, her cries clear as day through the paper-thin walls. “And you know exactly how I deal with liabilities, don’t you, Maria? I won’t risk everything because we have a daughter who can’t keep her goddamn mouth shut! And a mother who can’t control her!”
Mama gasps. “She came to me, and me alone! She didn’t tell anyone else! Don’t you dare touch her! She’s your child, for Christ’s sake! You treat her like she’s a stranger, less than a stranger! You show her no love, no affection, no indication that you give a shit about her! Or me!”
“We had an agreement,” he says coldly. “You knew the repercussions, Maria. All you had to do was keep her away from my business! But she never follows instructions. So goddamn defiant! Where did she learn that from, Maria?”
Another crash makes me tremble as I cry into my pillow.
I shouldn’t have told Mama. I should have kept my mouth shut!
My plan won’t work if Mama is hurt.
I swallow hard, swiping at my eyes.
Or dead.
“She came to me because she’s scared,” Mama says in a pleading voice. “You have to believe me! Aria fully understands what would happen to both of us if she ever spoke of your business and of our life here.”
“I don’t trust her,” Papa growls. “She is a burden that needs to be handled.”
“She’s your blood,” Mama whispers through her tears. “How can you even think of—?”
“Because,” he says. “She is too big of a risk to our way of life. And that’s on you. How many times did I warn you to have her keep her goddamn mouth shut? To tell her how bad it would be for both of you if she talks to anyone outside of the family! Why do you think I had Nikola watching over her?”
“He is a monster!”
“He is doing his job! A job you failed at!”
“Aria is a good girl,” Mama says, her voice quivering. “She doesn’t deserve any of this. She is sweet and caring and—”
“She’s dangerous,” he hisses. “Because she questions everything. She challenges anyone who tells her something she doesn’t want to hear. She doesn’t listen when she is warned not to do something.” He pauses. “Unless you didn’t make it clear what would happen if she opened her mouth to the wrong people.”
“You know that I did! And she’s still our daughter! You have an obligation to her, to both of us!”
“Our agreement was firm, Maria. I gave you a life and you were to give me loyalty in return. But you have failed to keep up your end of the bargain.” My father’s voice drops, but I can still hear it. A shiver slithers through my insides, icing my blood. “Ten years ago, this wouldn’t have been a problem. People don’t listen to young kids. They tell stories which are easily discounted. But Aria? She has a voice. And she uses it because you never told her not to! We
’re in the public eye, and our position cannot be compromised because of her!”
“She feels alone and afraid because her own father doesn’t give a damn what happens to her! Your brother—”
A heavy thud follows Mama’s screech, and by the sound, I can tell he’s just hurled an end table against the wall. Probably ran out of glass shit to break in his mad rage. “Do not talk of Nikola again!” Papa shouts. “I will not hear of it!”
I clinch my fists, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably as they always do at the mention of his name.
Nikola.
My uncle.
For months, I fought off his advances. I kicked, screamed, begged, cried, and still fell victim. I flex the fingers of my right hand, my wrist still sore from his latest assault. When I finally told her the truth about him, Mama told me she’d take care of it, that she would always protect me.
But even she knows that nobody is safe from my father and the deep-seated fury that he unleashes at leisure.
“I will not let him hurt her again,” Mama sputters, her voice suddenly choked. I fling the pillow at the wall and jump up from my bed, my heart thumping with growing speed.
Oh my God, is he…?
“Mama,” I whisper. “No, no, no!”
“You will do as I say or I will kill you both!” Papa yells.
A welcome sound of my mother suffering through a coughing fit tells me he isn’t.
At least, not yet.
“Where is Aria?” he roars, and Mama lets out a loud shriek.
I grab my shoes and tiptoe to my window. I know he’s about two seconds away from storming in here to teach me how very important it is for me to stop any filthy lies from slipping through my lips, but tonight, my room will be empty.
A pang of regret assaults my heart because my mother will take more of a beating when he finds out I’m not here.
But I have to do this.
It’s the only way we can escape.
This will be the last time you suffer any pain, Mama.
I will take care of you from now on.
I’ll protect you the same way you tried to protect me over the years.
Fallen: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men of Mayhem Book 4) Page 7
