by Blake York
I blast through the door and search the big open foyer for my wife. A strangled cry swings my head around, and I meet her frightened eyes.
My brothers stand like bodyguards around her, a barrier between her and Detective Bly.
I stride up to the man, fist cocked. But somebody grabs my arm and pins it behind my back.
“Stop, Warrick! You can’t hit a cop!” Ryker’s voice at my ear doesn’t do shit to calm me. After seeing that look in my wife’s eyes…somebody has to pay.
Preferably with blood.
I fight hard against my brother. The most he’ll allow me is to inch closer to Bly. I get up in his face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I rage.
He narrows his eyes on me. “We have reasonable evidence that Everly Gallo Rossi is linked to the murder of her father.”
Her eyes fly to mine and cling there. I can feel her fear. It blows over me like a windstorm, and it tastes acrid like oily smoke.
She gives a little shake of her head to indicate that she didn’t pull that trigger.
“We’re going to take her in for questioning.” Bly indicates toward another cop standing just outside the door that I hadn’t noticed before.
“She’s not under arrest?”
“Not unless she does something to make us take action. We’re only asking that you comply and answer our questions, Mrs. Rossi.” Bly sounds perfectly casual about it all, as if he isn’t here terrorizing women and ripping apart a family.
How odd that thought popped into my head. That it’s been only a few days and I already feel she belongs here. Maybe it’s the million I dropped for her.
Maybe it’s protecting her that has changed me.
The sound of my father’s voice has my attention riveting on the corner of the room. He stands there in his suit and tie, looking every inch the mobster. Why can’t Detective Bly see what he is—what we all are—and make an arrest? Why is he going after a young woman and a cold case?
“What are you trying to prove? If you think solving some old case will give you a chance at a promotion, or make you look more important to the ladies, you’re wrong,” I shout at him. “You’ll still have a little dick!”
One of my brothers snorts but our old man quells us all with a look. The look. The one Anders and Gabriel have already perfected and soon the rest of us will too.
“I’m warning you to shut up, Mr. Rossi,” Detective Bly says, staring me in the eyes.
“Don’t say another word until we’ve lawyered up, Warrick,” our father advises with a weight in his voice that has Bly reaching for Everly’s arm.
She doesn’t jerk away from him. Instead, I see a calm strength come over her. I catch her eye. She stares right at me as if waiting for some sign of what she should do next.
Even though it fucking kills me to do it, I give her a nod to go quietly with Bly.
The man marches her past me and all my family members. I follow them out the door and right to the unmarked car he has waiting for him. The other cop with him is the driver.
“I’m right behind you,” I call to Everly as she’s put in the back.
She meets my eyes. Some of that inner strength she’s shown everyone crumbles. The mask slips for only a moment, but it’s enough for me to see what’s going on in her head.
She’s afraid of what Bly knows.
Chapter XI
Everly
All the way to the police station for questioning, I rack my brain for answers.
What does this man know? How did he find it out? I was a minor when I plotted to kill my father. Where does that land me now that I’m an adult?
They put me in a room with nothing on the walls and only a table and a few chairs as furniture. I’m not handcuffed, thank god. Thanks to my uncle, I can’t stand to be restrained.
My uncle. Could he be behind all this? After his visit to the bakery and Warrick shooting him in the foot right before throwing him out, he definitely has a motive for coming after me.
I wait for so long in the cold, silent room that my brain starts to slip a little. I grab for my sanity and hold on tight. I can’t let these bastards shake me apart. I didn’t do anything wrong.
After what feels like hours but could only be minutes, the door opens. I jerk my head up, expecting to see Detective Bly or maybe even Warrick come to spring me, but my breath dies in my lungs as I set eyes on the last person I guessed I’d see here.
Melody.
She lets out a cry and runs to me, throwing her thin arms around me before I can even stand. I yank her in tight and cup her head. The soft strands of hair under my fingers brings out a momma bear instinct inside me, and I look over her head at Detective Bly standing in the door.
I shoot him a glare like daggers. He doesn’t even flinch, only watches our reunion.
“Why is she here?” I ask, still hugging Melody to me. She’s trembling, and that infuriates me more.
“I’d like to talk with both of you.”
I’m stunned that he’d allow us to be questioned together. It seems like he’s the kind of guy to split us up and try to worm out inconsistencies in our stories. Only Melody doesn’t know much.
She knows that the night our father was killed, both of us heard the gunshot and I came running into her room.
Bly closes the door and takes a seat across the table from us. Slowly, I peel my little sister off me and encourage her to the seat. She grips my hand so tight under the table that my fingers turn cold and numb.
I hold hers back, letting her know I’ll never walk away from her.
“As you know, Mrs. Rossi…”
Melody jerks at my name. She doesn’t even know I’m married now. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to interrupt her term at school with my news.
Bly continues, “I’ve been looking into your father’s murder case.”
Melody’s tough little fingers dig into mine.
“And I told you I don’t know anything about who did it. I was woken by the shot.”
He leans back in the seat and eyes me as if he knows different.
“It’s come to my attention that shortly before your father’s death, he told you both that you were to be married.”
We both go dead still. My heart’s pounding so hard, I’m sure both the detective and my sister hear it.
“Is this true, Melody?” he asks.
She bows her head. “I don’t really remember,” she whispers.
“You don’t remember being told at the age of twelve that your father arranged for you to be married and you were soon leaving his house?” A light comes into his eyes that I don’t like seeing. It’s a good thing I don’t have a weapon in my hand right now, or I’d make Bly pay for scaring my little sister.
“It was a long time ago, and pretty confusing. After he was killed, we were taken away,” she murmurs.
“Where were you taken?”
She shrugs. “I only remember sleeping in different beds until finally, our Nonna came for us, and that’s where we stayed.”
I nod to indicate this was true. How much Melody remembers isn’t clear to me. She was twelve and she’d have full, vivid memories of that night the same as I had at sixteen. But the mind played tricks at times, glazing over traumatic events.
“Did you ever meet with the men your father promised you to?” Bly asks.
“No,” I answer for Melody, “she never did. But I did.”
“And what is that man’s name?”
“It was our father’s second in command in his mafia ring. Nick Moretti.”
If this news surprises Bly, he doesn’t let on. Not even an eyebrow twitch.
He already knows.
“Did Moretti come to you in your bakery here in Chicago and place an order for cookies for his party?”
I go cold inside. I look the detective in the eyes and say, “I demand to speak with the Rossi family lawyer.”
When he doesn’t move, I scream it, “I demand to speak with the Rossi lawyer!”
<
br /> The door opens, and another officer enters.
I narrow my eyes on him. “Get me the Rossi lawyer!”
Another man in uniform appears behind him, and another, until all I see is blue at the door of the interrogation room.
“Rossi?” the first cop says. “You said her name’s Gallo.”
Detective Bly gets to his feet. “She just got married.”
“You did?” I ignore Melody’s whispered question.
“I want to see my lawyer, and I demand to see my husband. Now,” I bark out with a force I’ve never spoken with before.
Then I hear it—my husband’s voice echoing from some other room in the building.
I jump up and scream, “Warrick!”
“Get him,” the first cop says while staring at me.
There’s a flurry of activity, and next thing I know Warrick is barging into the room in long, powerful strides. He walks straight up to me and grabs my arm. “I’m taking her out of here, and none of you will stop me. Everly? Let’s go.”
“We have to take Melody.”
“Of course we are.” He pulls me behind him, and I catch hold of Melody’s arm to tow her with us.
Warrick storms out of the police station like he knows each and every corridor and room in the place. That has me wondering how many times he’s been here.
Cops stare at us as we pass, many bowing their heads as if in deference to my husband.
To him or the Rossi name? When I shouted it out, that got plenty of notice.
Warrick has a car waiting for us. He stuffs me and Melody in the back seat and he climbs in with us, acting like a bodyguard.
Anders is at the wheel, and he steps on the gas, immediately taking us away from the police station and Detective Bly.
“That son of a bitch didn’t use her name. That’s why those cops didn’t know who I was talking about.” Warrick clenches a fist on his knee. The knuckle joints look about to pop from the force of his grip.
“What the fuck, are you serious? That guy’s overstepping,” Anders shoots over his shoulder.
“Our cops will drive him out of here. There’s no way they’re going to let an outsider question one of us.”
My chest heats with the statement. One of us.
I twist my head and look at my husband. What I see is a very violent man.
And I’m proud that he chose me.
Warrick
We drove Melody back to her school. Providing her with two guards to keep watch over her, Everly and I leave strict instructions with the headmaster that she wasn’t to leave the school unless I come for her.
I lead Everly through a set of patio doors that open onto a secluded area of the yard with the pool and hot tub. I’ve got a bottle of my favorite Irish whiskey in one hand and a palm on the small of her back as I lead her to the Jacuzzi.
She looks down at the bubbling water as if she has no idea how she got here.
“I thought it would relax you,” I say.
She studies me. “The hot water or the whiskey?” A faint smile skims her full lips.
“Both. Take off your clothes and get in.”
She doesn’t hesitate to do as I say. That pleases me more than I ever could have imagined. Actually, a month ago, I couldn’t even imagine having a wife let alone one that pleases me so much.
I set the bottle on the edge of the hot tub and pull off my shirt. My eyes go straight to her full breasts as she drops her bra. From the corner of her eye, Everly steals peeks at my body while I blatantly watch her expose every inch of her beautiful curves.
When she dips a toe in the bubbling water, I catch hold of her hand to assist her in.
A flush creeps into her cheeks, but she swings her head away and steps in. Bit by bit, she sinks into the hot water.
I kick off my shoes and strip off my socks. Then I reach for my fly.
This time she doesn’t try to hide that she’s watching me undress. I shoot her a crooked smile. “You like what you see, wife?”
She leans against the side of the tub and stretches back enough that her nipples pop out of the water. I can see the tips are hard and pink, teased by the bubbles churning around her.
“Do you?” Her coy question has me shucking my clothes fast. I wade right in, grabbing the bottle off the ledge.
I encircle her waist and haul her up against me. Her heated skin has me growing even harder. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
“What is it?” She curls a hand around my nape as I haul her a foot over to one of the jets.
When I position her in front of it so the rush of water flows between her legs, she sucks in a gasp. “Warrick!”
“Stay right there and let the water…relax you. I’m going to sit back and sip my whiskey.” I take the seat opposite her and bring the bottle to my lips.
“I can’t…just…”
“You’re going to let that jet get you off, Everly. Don’t move.” I fix my stare on the surface of the water. I can see her hips wiggle a little as she finds the right spot.
My cock aches at the vision before me. I’ve always wanted to bring a woman here and watch her pleasure herself on one of the jets. I’ve never brought whores to the mansion. They’re not worthy.
A squeaking rasp escapes Everly’s lips. She stretches out her arms to hold onto the edge while she rocks on the jet. My cock’s stiff and bobbing against my abs under the water. The whiskey’s a slow burn in my throat.
Everly’s eyes widen. She stares straight at me and cries out. That pink flush of pleasure coats her nipples, climbs her chest to settle in her cheeks. “Warrick! I’m gonna…”
Her mouth opens wide on a silent cry. Christ, I’m about to explode just watching her. That took all of a minute for her to come. My balls are busting with the need to claim her.
I watch her release wash through her, leaving her gasping, head bowed. The tips of her long strands of hair are wet and clinging to her breasts.
“Here, have some whiskey.” I close the gap between us and she twines herself around me, thighs locked around my middle. I put the bottle in her hand, and she takes a small sip.
“It’s good,” she rasps out.
“You don’t even know good yet.” I lift her onto the side. She spreads her legs wide as if she already knows that I like looking at her. That I get off on it.
She holds my stare as I slowly edge forward. Lining up my swollen cock with her entrance. In one smooth glide, I fill her.
The tight clench of heat swallows my length. I growl with the sensation, and goddamn, I’m already lost.
Chapter XII
Everly
I stand in the bathroom off the patio, fully dressed and shaking with fear.
My husband has just given me two orgasms back-to-back.
He’s also stolen my heart.
I don’t know how it’s happened and in such a short time. It sure wasn’t love at first sight, but maybe it’s the fact I’m so love-starved. Since Nonna’s passing, nobody has cared for me.
Warrick doesn’t use words about love. That isn’t what this marriage is built on. It’s a contract, a melding of family names and more power to be gained from it.
I know he’s waiting for me to come out of the bathroom. I’m sure he expects me to talk about what happened today in the police station, but all I can think about is how he was my knight, blowing into that interrogation room and sweeping me away.
He’s my rescuer in more ways than that.
He saved me from the poverty I was sure to suffer. I struggled to make rent, and I would have surely given in to Nick if he came back offering more money in exchange for baked goods. I’m well aware the man was trying to trick me, to use me. I was only a few steps away from the welfare line before Warrick offered me his name.
He’s also saved me from myself. After my uncle put the moves on me, I never believed I could find physical passion with a man. I was far too afraid to try. That’s how I got to be a twenty-one-year-old virgin.
W
arrick’s shown me just how good I can feel at the hands of the right man. Nothing he does is frightening. Actually, it turns me on more than I ever imagined.
So why don’t I walk out that door and go to him? I’m lying to myself if I say I’m not afraid of the powerful emotions he’s driven to the surface. I watched him in the car on the way home from dropping Melody off at her school and I fell in love with his strength and resolve.
I watched him take off his clothes at the edge of the hot tub and fell in love with the passion he drives in my veins with his muscled body and long, thick cock.
And when he watches me gain pleasure… Well, I’m pretty sure I fall in love with him a little more each time.
How many more times of him watching me come for him will it take before I’ve totally lost my heart to my twisted husband? I know he won’t want me to love him. After all, he is a hard man, a violent one. He rules this city with his father and brothers. Doors open to him—to us—simply at the sound of our name.
If I fall for Warrick, I know I won’t be able to hide it. The emotion will be shining in my eyes like a schoolgirl. Men like him feel trapped by feelings. How soon before he walks away from me once he learns I’m falling in love with him?
I don’t have any choice but to open that door and go out there. At first I crack it. Then with a big fortifying breath, I throw the door wide and step out.
Warrick isn’t here. I stare at the French doors leading inside. He’s left the bottle of whiskey as if to show me the path to him.
Lord help me, I want to take it.
Instead, something cracks inside me. I turn for the bushes, thinking to sneak through the hedgerow. I can slip off the property unseen, make a break for the road and hail a cab. From there, I’ll go to Melody.
Then what? Flee to another state.
Warrick can go on with his life. Take a mistress.
The thought hurts. God, does it sting. Still, it’s better for me.
I don’t know much about love. Besides my little sister and Nonna, I’ve never had a single soul care about my welfare. If Warrick ever shows me that he really doesn’t care, I’ll crumble. The fact he can break me drives my feet forward.
