Page 16 of Princess of the Mafia

Somewhere in my vision, I caught Nico carrying my wife in his arms, wrapped in the filthy duvet covers of this cheapness. Stefano backed away and closed the door behind him. He was all mine to do with whatever I wanted. She said I was unhinged. If only she could see me now.

DARIA

My teeth chattered like it was a night in the Arctic. My entire unvirgin body rattled with shock, and my mind whirled with one plea. Over and over again. Please don’t kill him!

Popcorned walls and dim lights spanned past me while a man marched with me in his arms. His death grip on me should have been enough to imprison a monster. Yet he couldn’t stop the spasms of my body from escaping. When he dropped me in the seat of a car, bile rose fast and unexpectedly and emptied right between his shoes on the tarred street.

“Fuck me!” He sprang back like a snake was let loose on the street rather than the contents of my dinner swirled with alcohol.

I hunched over, heaving painfully, wishing I could empty the contents of today just as I did my stomach. When it was all out, and there was nothing left anymore to retch, I sat upright on my shaky knees to the cold blue eyes of one of his brothers. I didn’t know which one he was, but only that there wasn’t a shred of warmth in him to find.

He stepped away in disgust and strode over to the driver’s side. Is he going to take me home? But all he did was drive the car a few feet further with both doors still open. He left me again and stood against the back of the car with his back to me. The fact that he didn’t like me much hit me like a slap to my face.

Spikes lined my throat, and I ached for water, but somehow I forced words out of my mouth. “Is he going to kill him?”

He threw me a disgusted look, pushed off the car, and strode over to me. I was born and bred in the Cosa Nostra. Men like my papà and uncles, with their hostile looks, were something I’d seen more than a kind smile. Still, his was enough to make me wither back into the car. He stood in front of me and froze me with a cold, blistering look that reached all the bones in my body. “I imagine he’s screaming for death to come get him right about now,” he sniggered before he hunched down and caught my face between his fingers. “The question is, what’s he going to do to you?” Suddenly, the possibility that he might kill me, too, engaged my mind. What frightened me was that it wasn’t an idea that scared me. My only regret was that there wouldn’t be any goodbyes to be said before he did.

The neon light of the hotel flickered against his face as he stood up. The smell of vomit drifted up my nostrils. Did it come from me? I looked back to where it lay a few feet away, but my eyes caught on the man striding out, his white shirt spattered with crimson. My stomach clenched as my eyes whipped to his black ones. He looked me straight in the eye and approached me like the devil coming for death. There was no doubt that he had already taken one life that night. My breath hitched, and my world tilted. Even if I knew what the outcome was going to be, it hit me hard when I faced reality.

I’d taken another man’s life. Purely because of my actions and no one else’s. For that alone, I deserved to die. The last I’d felt for Aldo was annoyance. Now I would carry him forever in my heart with guilt, a constant companion.

Strangely enough, his brother stepped in front of me, blocking me from his view. “Basta, Enzo.”

I imagined stopping a sandstorm with a windshield would be more effective. My future husband strode past him as if he had a hearing problem. Only his brother grabbed his arm with force, stopping him. The men stood at a standoff. My future was bleak if his own brother was terrified of what he’d do to me. Does he listen to them? No. He just shoved him roughly against the car and towered above me.

I was right. When he loomed over me, not a wisp of protectiveness grazed my skin. There was so much anger emanating from him it blew me away like a ball of dust in the wind. I shrank away and curled up in the seat.

A heavy sigh left him and strangely, it gripped me in all kinds of places. Even more than his anger had touched me. He dropped to his haunches. “Get some water,” he growled.

His brother didn’t move an inch.

A dark look crossed his face before he turned his face to him. “Nico, I’ve already killed enough men today. I’m not done counting yet.”

The night air stiffened and sparked like a thunderstorm was approaching.

Men? Please don’t let another man’s blood touch my hands.

After a slight hesitation, Nico finally turned and left and the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding released in a soft whoosh.

His gaze edged dark. It burned me like hot charcoal. I knew nothing about this man. Other than the fact that what I had done had angered him and he wasn’t done killing for today. His hand reached out to me, and I jerked back. He stopped. My pulse throbbed in my forehead. His jaw ticked. His lips thinned. Seconds ticked away. Warm air brushed my face. I shifted uncomfortably and inadvertently brought myself closer to him. His hand closed the gap, hands wrapped around my wig, yanked, and it flew in the path of my vomit. Another sigh, as if it hurt to see what was in front of his eyes. His hands grasped a tendril of my hair, and slid down it. When it loosened, a smudge of vomit traced his fingers. Unlike his brother, he didn’t back away. He didn’t even seem to notice it. His eyes held mine like he never planned to release me from his hold. Even when Nico stood next to him, he reached for the bottle without moving his gaze away.

I dropped his and followed his hands as they twisted the lid open. His knuckles were scuffed red and lined with dried blood. Crimson again. Muscles squeezed into the void of my stomach. He didn’t do normal. That was maybe the first thing I learned about him. No. Correction. The first thing I learned is that he killed faster than he thought. The second thing I learned was that he didn’t listen to anyone, not even his brothers. The third was that he didn’t do normal. Instead of giving me the bottle, he gripped my chin, tipped it up, and let me sip the water like I was a child. Then again, I wasn’t sure if I would have been able to hold that water the way my hands were still trembling.

He knew when I’d had enough before I’d told him. He took the bottle and chucked it on the street. I guess the fourth was that he didn’t clean up.

His fingers caught the few droplets that had escaped my mouth. It strangely felt more like a caress than a wipe. His big hand wrapped around the nape of my neck and brought me to his forehead, our breaths muffled in the stifling night air. His sigh left his chest and entered mine. His breath to mine. Just as suddenly, he dropped me. My seat belt buckled, and he was back on his feet and took with him the tension that had wrapped around us. The door closed on my side, and his sigh left my chest. Except the tension wrapped around the back of the car and slid into the driver’s side. The leather and metal inside shifted as his presence whirled inside the car. When the engine started, I realized he was done killing for the night. Unless he planned on killing me as softly as he trailed my tendrils and caressed my chin.

CHAPTER EIGHT

DARIA

It must have been my imagination. There wasn’t anything soft about this man. His foot on the pedal took us skidding away from the crime scene and the crimes we’d both committed in the name of the other.

Of course, he drove like any made man, like he wanted to crash into death rather than run away from it. And he did it all one-handed, with a tick in his jaw and a dark look painted on his face. His tattooed knuckles gripped the gear like I imagined he had his gun as he killed Aldo. Or did he do it with his bare hands? Or maybe he didn’t kill him at all?

Hope sparked inside me like a candle in the wind, but one peek at his thunderous face told me there wasn’t an inkling of a possibility of that.

The car must have been a rental, but it carried a familiar scent. One that rasped in a gruff voice and said it was his. It traveled through every shaft in the air and the moment the door closed, snuck uninvited up my nostrils, and I couldn’t shed it off me anymore. Even though the faint hum of vomit still hung on me.

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