Page 19 of Savage Heart

Not that I should be surprised. Our father put out a hit on me. Matteo’s behavior isn’t anywhere as bad as that. He probably thinks I’m going to collapse into a crying mess, but I’m stronger than that.

I may be a female, but I’m just as tough as he is. Even tougher, I think, because I’ve had to be. As a female in our family, it’s not like I’ve been treated like a princess. My life has been far more of a fight against being held in places against my will than his ever was.

The same can be said for all my half-brothers. They have no idea how to be strong because they never had to be. All they do is playact being strong. That’s what happens when power is handed to you. You don’t know how to fight for things.

But I do. Now Matteo and the rest of my family are going to find that out.

I try to move my arms, desperate to stretch my wrists after sitting here for God only knows how long, but unlike Alaric, whoever restrained me here meant business. My breath hitches in my chest at the thought of him. Does he know my brother took me? How could he since he probably went back to that island where he lives?

Then again, I’ve always had a feeling his uncle had people watching me, so maybe they do know I’m missing. The problem is I looked like I was merely walking to the train station to meet my boyfriend. It’s possible no one saw me get taken away.

Trent. What a son of a bitch. All this time I thought he cared. He told me he loved me. I guess that was all a lie. I wonder if our entire time together was just a prelude to his handing me over to my brother, or did Matteo get to him and threaten to hurt him if he didn’t help with his plan to drag me back here?

My mind quickly moves away from my good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend to the reason why I’ve been brought back here in the first place. What good do I do Matteo or anyone else in my family, for that matter? With my father gone, there’s no reason to concern themselves with what’s happening with me.

So why kidnap me and force me back here?

My head snaps up at the sound of the door opening, and in walks the man himself. Dressed in a black suit like always, Matteo looks so stereotypical gangster that I have to stifle a laugh when he flicks on the lightbulb above me. He truly has no idea how ridiculous he is.

“Time to come alive, Sienna. I thought I’d pay you a visit and explain just what’s going to happen to you,” he says, his accent much thicker than I remember.

Then again, Italian is his first language and he’s never spent a day outside of this country, so I guess it’s not surprising that he sounds like he does. Still, it serves to further make him more of a caricature than anything else.

“Matteo, how nice of you to come to see me. Nothing like kidnapping your sister and dragging her back to a life she clearly wanted to leave in the past.”

For anyone else, I’d keep my attitude to a minimum, but my brother gets the full effect of how pissed I am at this situation. If he wanted nice, he should have left me alone to live my damn life back in the States.

“Stop being melodramatic,” he says with a sneer. “You know this is how things are done in our family.”

As if that makes it right. God, I hate him!

“So why did you do me the favor of bringing me back here? Wanted to give me an all-expense paid trip to the beautiful Amalfi Coast? Missed me so much you just had to see me again?”

Matteo reaches up and taps the lightbulb so it begins to swing like a pendulum above my head. With each pass, it creates ugly shadows on my brother’s face that make him all the more hideous.

“You belong here, Sienna. Not living in America as some woman named Sabrina. You’re a Rossetti, and no matter how much you wish that wasn’t true, it is, so it’s time you accept it.”

What a ridiculous statement to make. As if being a Rossetti is something I should value or cherish. What the hell has that name or the family attached to it ever done for me?

“I belong where I want to be, not where you or any other of my brothers think I should go. This isn’t the goddamned Middle Ages, Matteo. Women are allowed to decide their own fates. Even Italian women, the last time I checked.”

My brother grimaces like I just told him all his money had been stolen. “Women get to decide what we men chose for them. You never seemed to understand that.”

He’s such a caveman. Honestly, I don’t know how that girlfriend of his puts up with this kind of nonsense. He’s probably completely pussy-whipped in private. That would be the only way any woman would tolerate this shit from him.

I don’t bother trying not to roll my eyes. “Whatever, Matteo. So why am I here enjoying these luxurious accommodations?”

My snarkiness upsets him, and he takes a step toward me like he plans to slap my face. I flinch, instantly hating that he sees he can have an effect on me like that.

Chuckling, he says, “You’re here because it’s time you settled down. I have the perfect husband for you, and it’s going to be a beautiful wedding. Just like the one our father always looked forward to for you.”

His words make no sense. Wedding? I’m not marrying anyone, particularly no one this shithead has chosen to be my husband. He’s clearly lost his mind if he thinks this is actually going to happen.

“Matteo, I think you’ve been out in the sun too long. I’m not getting married,” I say as calmly as I can, even while my heart races in utter terror.

He leans down so our faces are at the same level and smiles, but there’s no happiness in his expression. “Yes, you are. Two days from now, you and Lucius Angeloni will become husband and wife. This is happening, so make it easy on yourself, Sienna, and accept it.

Lucius Angeloni? That guy who came in here before and spewed all that good girl bullshit? I don’t think so.

---