by Julia Sykes
Marco’s description of what their enemies would do to me had shaken me to my core.
“Hey,” Joseph said gently, calling my attention away from the horrific images that were filling my mind.
His hand covered mine, his thumb stroking my fingers. His sincere aqua gaze pierced my soul. “I’d die before I’d let anyone hurt you,” he swore.
I found myself nodding. He spoke the absolute truth, and I couldn’t hate him when he made such a stark declaration.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll write the emails.”
He lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over my knuckles. “Thank you.”
His touch was electric, and even the chaste gesture made my body light up with awareness. Our eyes caught, and he didn’t let go of my hand. He kept his gentle grip on me as he leaned in, closing the distance I’d put between us. My pulse ticked up, and my lips tingled in anticipation of his fierce kiss. Just like it had always been with him, I was completely in his thrall. He didn’t have to pin me down to keep me under his power. I was helpless to fight this irresistible connection between us.
He was close enough that his warm breath teased over my lips. They parted, ready for his tongue to sweep into my mouth, claiming me with deep, domineering strokes. His eyes roved over my face, studying me as though he was trying to memorize my every feature. His obsession was intoxicating, his reverence enthralling.
“Ashlyn.” He almost groaned my name, his husky tone heavy with longing and a hint of wonder. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured.
He reached up and traced the line of my lower lip with his thumb, the touch feather-light and worshipful.
I love you. I bit the words back just before they could roll off my tongue. As much as I ached for his kiss, a new darkness tainted our connection.
Joseph had deceived me. I couldn’t trust him.
I remembered how he’d pinned me down and kissed the tears on my cheeks. Barely any time had passed since then, and the memory of his arousal at my subjugation was still clear in my mind.
Just as he leaned in to capture my lips, I managed to turn my face away.
“Don’t,” I begged softly. I couldn’t bear it if he kissed me. My heart was already in pieces, and I couldn’t take any more. The man I loved had ripped my life away from me. He’d put me in danger, and he’d taken away my choices. I’d been convinced that he was good, but now, I didn’t know him at all.
I heard him take a shuddering breath. He didn’t withdraw immediately. I wondered if he was struggling to hold back the darker part of himself that wanted to hold me down and devour me, to draw out my lust for him until I forgot why I should push him away.
A twisted part of me longed for him to do it, because that would absolve me of any foolishness for falling back into his arms.
Resolutely, I kept my gaze averted from his, denying our connection. Denying him.
A low sound of displeasure left his chest, but he finally moved away. I allowed myself to breathe again, willing my racing pulse to slow to a normal rhythm.
He didn’t say anything to me, but I could feel his eyes on me. I didn’t look at him. Instead, I picked up the notepad and pen and began writing with shaky hands. I made my excuses to my professors first, then Jayme, my best friend and roommate. She was fully aware of how heartbroken I’d been since Joseph left, so I knew she wouldn’t doubt my supposed decision to take time off from school.
I wrote to my father last. There was no point sending an email to my mother. The most I ever got from her were text messages a few times a year, usually filled with falsely cheery emojis. She liked to pretend we had a gal-pal friendship, but that was only to make her feel better. It only left me feeling empty.
Tears began to blur my vision as I made my excuses to my father. All I’d ever wanted was for him to be proud of me, to prove I was worthy of attention and affection. This email would destroy all my hard work. He’d never understand or forgive a rash decision to take time off from college because of heartache over a guy. I could easily imagine the look of disappointment on his face, his bushy gray mustache turning down in a sad frown. It was the same look he’d given me every time I’d failed to be anything less than perfect in my life. I’d told myself he was just pushing me to make me a high achiever, but that didn’t take the hurt away.
By the time I’d scrawled “Love, Ashlyn,” my tears dripped down my face and splattered on the ruled notebook paper. The black ink smudged where they fell, but the message was still legible.
Joseph tugged the notepad out of my hands before I could completely ruin the words I’d written.
“What’s your username?” he prompted gently.
“Abmeyers. My first initials and last name.”
“What’s your middle name?”
He’d never asked me before. There was so much we’d never learned about one another, but he was far more of a mystery than I was.
“Bailey,” I said dully. I felt hollowed-out, exhausted.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
I nodded at the familiar compliment, not really listening. Mentally, I was checking out. Everything that had happened since I’d woken up to find Joseph and Marco looming over me was too much for me to fully process. And the knowledge that my father was going to be disappointed in me rested heavy on my heart.
“And your password?”
“1997unicorn.”
He paused, but I barely noticed. “Thank you.”
I nodded again in rote acknowledgment. My whole situation was becoming surreal, and I sank into the sense of detachment from my emotions. It was so much easier than facing the pain of Joseph’s betrayal.
He reached out to brush the wetness from my cheeks, but I flinched away. I laid down and rolled onto my side, drawing my knees up to my chest in a protective gesture. I didn’t want to look at him. I couldn’t bear to fall into his gorgeous eyes and fall prey to his allure again. My heart couldn’t take it.
He retrieved a blanket from the foot of the bed and tucked it around me.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut him out. “Leave me alone,” I mumbled into the mattress.
He said nothing for a long moment, but I could feel him considering me. Finally, I heard his heavy boots stomping across the room, and the door thumped closed behind him.
I heaved in a breath, and a sob ripped from my chest when I exhaled. I pulled the blanket over my head and cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Five
Joseph
I stormed down the hall, searching for Marco. Since Ashlyn was stashed in his bedroom, I assumed he’d be in his other favorite room in the house: the kitchen.
Her muffled sobs followed me as I raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time in my haste to escape the sound of her pain. I couldn’t do anything to make it go away. She’d made it clear that my presence only made it worse for her.
Impotent fury pounded through my veins, and I knew there was one thing I could channel it into: beating the shit out of Marco. He was the one who’d kidnapped her. He was the one who’d frightened her.
Ashlyn was gentle, fragile. She needed to be handled with care, shielded and protected. And he’d been just as brutally blunt with her as he was with everyone else.
When I raged into the kitchen, Marco turned away from the sandwich he’d been making. He didn’t appear remotely surprised when I swung at him, and he didn’t flinch away. My fist connected squarely with his jaw. Familiar pain cut into my knuckles, but it was nothing. I was used to it.
What I wasn’t used to was punching my best friend. We’d fought in the past—like brothers do—but I’d never felt this burning anger toward him before.
I pulled my next punch, but my other hand fisted in his shirt. I yanked him toward me so I could snarl in his face.
His black eyes stared at me, implacable as ever.
“Do you feel better now?” he asked coolly, not making a move to retaliate or defend himself. “Does punching me make you feel l
ike the good guy here?”
“Fuck you,” I growled. I wasn’t used to cussing at him, either. Not in anger.
He shrugged. “I’ll give you one more shot, if it’ll help you calm down and be reasonable. You’re acting like a pissy teenager. I need you to snap out of that shit and face this like a man.”
I dropped my fist and released him, shoving him away with another curse. It didn’t feel right to hit him, especially not when he wasn’t fighting back.
“You scared her,” I said, my voice still rough with residual anger. “You made her cry.”
“She needed to know the reality of the situation. Would you prefer she hate you for kidnapping her? She has to understand the danger she faces if she’s not with us.”
“I’m not the one who kidnapped her,” I flung back. “You made that decision on your own.”
His dark brows rose to his close-cropped black hair. “And if I’d told you that your father’s enemies were watching her? What would you have done?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I would have gone back to her,” I hedged, unwilling to admit that I would have done anything to keep her safe, including taking her away from Harvard.
Marco crossed his arms over his chest. “You would have done the same thing I did. I made the choice so you didn’t have to. Now, you don’t have to feel guilty about it. She’ll come around and forgive you. I’m the bad guy here, remember?” His lips twisted slightly on the last part, but the expression was gone so quickly, I might have imagined it.
I finally shook my head, my rage draining out of me. “You did what you had to do. You did what I would have done. I didn’t know you had people watching her. If you hadn’t done that… If you hadn’t known and gotten to her in time…” I couldn’t bring myself to vocalize the horrors she might have endured. Because of me.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I never should have touched her. I should have stayed away.”
“Yes, you probably should have. But you shouldn’t have run away from New York in the first place. That was a shitty thing to do, Joseph.”
“I know.” I was surprised he hadn’t punched me for that transgression. I’d left without a word and covered my tracks. I could have been dead, for all Marco knew. I’d left my closest friend in the world hanging on to hope that I’d somehow survived the war brewing within our family. When all along, I’d been playing the part of humble bartender while I pretended Ashlyn’s safe, simple life could be mine, too.
I’d been a complete fucking idiot, deluding myself into thinking that was a remote possibility. I’d never be free from my violent world.
“I’ll never deserve her,” I said, not realizing I spoke the words aloud.
“Stop that shit right now,” Marco commanded. “I won’t stand for this lovesick drama anymore. You’re not living in a fucking fairytale, Joseph. There are no white knights and evil villains. You don’t have to be one or the other. This is the real world. It’s ugly and complicated, and it’s time you faced that reality and stopped trying to run away or deny it. You’re a hard man in a hard world. Start acting like it.”
“You mean like you act?” I shot back. “Drugging innocent women and stealing them in the night before scaring them into cooperating? I don’t want to be that kind of man, Marco. You know me better than that.”
He barely flinched as I flung the accusations at him, but that was enough to let me know I’d cut him deeply.
“And I guess you know me so well, then, if that’s what you think of me.”
I held my glare for a few seconds, but I dropped my aggression on a sigh. “Sorry, Marco. That was shitty of me. I know you’re not a bad person. I know you did what you had to do to keep Ashlyn safe. I just can’t stand seeing her cry. She hates me now. She wouldn’t even look at me.”
He clapped me on the shoulder, a comforting gesture. My cruelty was easily forgiven.
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just upset. I saw the way she looked at you. Believe me, she’s not capable of hating you. Give her some time, and she’ll come around. She just needs some space to process everything and accept the situation. She must be a smart girl; she goes to Harvard. It won’t take her long to figure out that we really are trying to protect her, not hurt her.”
All I could do was hope he was right about that. The thought of Ashlyn flinching away from my touch was enough to sour my stomach. It had been inherently wrong for her to shy away from my hand, to be frightened of me. I’d do everything in my power to fix this. But for now, Marco was right. She needed space and a little time to rest and process her situation.
“I should go see my father,” I said. “He needs to know that Ashlyn is here.” I didn’t want to hide anything from Dad. Even though I’d tried to run away, he still loved me. He’d help me protect Ashlyn, if I told him how important she was to me.
“Yes, you should,” Marco agreed. “And it’ll give Ashlyn some breathing room if you’re gone. Don’t worry,” he added before I could voice my concerns. “I won’t scare her again. I don’t like seeing her cry, either.”
I nodded. Marco might terrify most people, but I knew him better than that. He was a good man, and he’d never hurt a woman, especially one as innocent and delicate as Ashlyn.
“Did you get her to write the messages?” he prompted.
“Yeah. But I left the notepad in the bedroom. Maybe wait a while before you go get it. You’re right about her needing space.”
“Okay, but not too long. We need to send those emails before anyone gets concerned. Her roommate has already texted her phone to check on her. I couldn’t unlock the damn thing to answer. We’ll need to get her passcode. Did you get her username and password for her email account?”
My lips curved as I recalled the information. Her name was as beautiful as she was, and her password was adorable. “Abmeyers. Her password is 1997unicorn.”
The corners of Marco’s mouth twitched. Coming from him, that was like a genuine laugh. “Cute,” he commented.
Ashlyn’s bedroom in her apartment at Harvard had been decorated in pastel colors, something between adult sophistication and childish whimsy. I’d known she possessed a girly streak, but the fact that her password was about a magical creature only made her that much more enchanting. Her innocence was something I treasured, something pure that I didn’t possess. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to possess her.
“I should get going,” I said. “I was supposed to have dinner with my dad at the restaurant, anyway. I’ll fill him in on the threat to Ashlyn.” My levity melted at the thought of her being threatened. “Maybe he’ll agree that it’s finally time to make a move against these fuckers.”
So far, we’d mostly been engaging in something of a Cold War with my father’s rivals. There were moves and countermoves, veiled threats and insults. But outright violence had yet to break out.
“I don’t think you should do that,” Marco warned. “You can tell him she’s here, but don’t tell him she’s being threatened. Things will get bloody fast, and that could put her in more danger. They were watching her in Cambridge, but if we make a move against them now, they’ll know that she’s the cause. It’ll put a target on her back. They’ll know she’s our weak spot.”
My stomach turned. “Right,” I agreed. “I’ll keep this between us, but I’ll tell Dad that Ashlyn is taking time off from school to stay here with me.”
My father wouldn’t think it odd that my girlfriend was staying with me at Marco’s house. I’d spent enough time here in my life that it wasn’t at all out of the ordinary.
“I’ll see you later tonight. Take care of her while I’m gone.”
“I won’t keep the pretty princess locked up alone in her tower, don’t worry.”
I rolled my eyes at him. I was getting tired of the fairytale jibes.
“I’ll make dinner for her,” he amended when he could tell I wasn’t amused. “And I promise I won’t scare her again.”
“Thank you.” Marco really was good
to me, even better than a brother. I knew he’d keep Ashlyn safe and as happy as possible in my absence.
My gut tightened with anxiety when I stepped into the back room at Pisolino—my family’s restaurant in Manhattan. I’d come to see my father, but Gabriel Costa’s deep brown eyes fixed on me, his mouth curving in a cold smile that tugged at the scar on his upper lip.
Apparently, even enemies could come together over bucatini all’Amatriciana.
The room was thick with tension. Marco’s father, Leo De Luca, sat to Dad’s right, as always. And Gabriel, the upstart capo who dared to challenge my father, sat at the opposite end of the table.
Dad had been named by Victor Lombardi as his chosen successor, but Gabriel wanted to be the boss, once the old man passed.
“Joseph,” my father said, without his usual warmth. “Come sit with us. We’ll get you a plate.”
I tried to remain as nonchalant as possible when I sat to Dad’s left. I might not like my violent lifestyle, but the threat to my father rankled. Despite everything, I loved him, and I would die before I let Gabriel Costa hurt him.
“It’s always good to see your son, Dominic,” Gabriel said to my father. “Family is so important.” His dark eyes fixed on me. “It was a shame when you disappeared, Joseph. We were all worried about you.”
My father had almost sent men to kill Gabriel while I was hiding out in Cambridge. He’d suspected his rival had murdered me, and he’d been ready to go to war by the time Marco dragged me back to New York.
“Yes, I’m very happy to have Joseph back where he belongs,” Dad said coolly.
Shit. What I had to say wasn’t going to go over well with him, but it was actually a good thing Gabriel was here to hear it. If his people had been thinking about hurting Ashlyn to get to me, I wanted him to know that I had her safely tucked away at Marco’s estate, out of their reach.
