Page 13 of Broken Vows

“Can you all stop talking as if I’m not in the room?” Tasha says in a raised voice as she shrugs Gigi off. “It’s okay. Stephano will take care of me.”

That I will. Until my brother comes to the party and commits to what he wants. I hope he makes up his mind before nine o’clock tonight.

I put pressure on Tasha’s lower back, and she takes the first step. Gigi stands and attempts again to stop her.

“You. Sit. Stay,” I bark at her.

The last thing I need is Gigi trailing along, meddling and messing up my schedule. This evening was planned with precision. I’ll go through the motions until Matteo does what he needs to do.

To my surprise, Gigi falls back in her seat and does exactly what I told her to do.

I’m so tempted to saygood girlbut bite my tongue, more to hide my smirk than to stop the words from popping out. She’s not my girl, good or anything. Damn shame, because I’d love to take her in hand and teach her a lesson or two.

7

GIGI

“Was that your brother?” I ask as Stephano disappears down the stairs, his hand resting on the woman’s shoulder, possessive, protective, caring.

At the visual, my body pulses with need. That’s the type of hold I love onme, rare as they are. Few men in my experience know how to demonstrate this in just one simple touch. And now, with my luck, it’s this Mafia asshole who knows just how to tug at every sexual nerve in my being.

I force my thoughts away from the man and his hands and the fact that I want them all over me, and glance back at Matteo. I doubt Don Trapani knows what’s happening on our yacht. This is no security company executive enjoying a complimentary cruise to seal the deal. What’s happening here makes me want to vomit.

“Matteo?” I press him, but he doesn’t respond. “Matteo!”

“Yes!” he grunts, exasperated. “Stephano Scalera. My younger brother and in charge of tonight’s auction.”

He’s standing there, shaking in shock and fury. I bet nobody has ever vetoed his instructions like this, least of all a woman. I know better than to mess with a guy in such a state. I soft-footit to the sliding doors and catch the eye of one of our crew. He comes up to me, hesitant. Useless.

“Tell the captain to get going. We’re taking a sunset cruise. And secure the cabins,” I say under my breath. “Tell the rest of the staff that nobody—and bythatI meannobody—takes orders from anybody but me. I’m the only Trapani on this yacht, and I’ll dictate where we go next.”

The waiter nods. His gaze flicks to Matteo. I hope my guest is still rooted to the same spot.

“Go,” I hiss, and he rushes off.

I close the sliding door and lock it as a delay strategy. When I turn to face Matteo, his fisted hands are pumping by his sides as he fights to contain himself. I lean back against the sliding door, trying my best to swallow my fear. Matteo is tall, built, and clearly in the mood to punch something. Inwardly, I already flinch. It’s been almost two decades since a man last laid a hand on me, but old habits die hard.

Why the hell didn’t I run when I could have? It’s not too late, but when the yacht’s engines turn on, he blinks at me. I press closer to the door, blocking his way. Inside, I’m cowering, shaking like a leaf, but I won’t allow him to step a foot onto the deck and make his escape. I will decide how this ends.

Matteo doesn’t move or step in my direction, but his eyes narrow at me.“What the hell have you just done?”

I bite my lip, not quite ready to give my plan away here. I need a couple more minutes. Just long enough to get us out of the marina. Luckily, our yacht is moored close to the harbor mouth, and it wouldn’t take much except a ton of fuel to get out to sea. Initially, it’s so slow, you won’t notice the movement unless you fixate on a spot to compare your location to.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask, but I don’t move to the bar, protecting the door.

“Gigi Trapani,” he says as he takes a step in my direction. “What have you ordered your staff to do?”

I shrug. “Sunset cruise?”

I’m thinking on my feet here, but the easiest way to get a fair exchange for that poor woman will be to make a hostage swap. I’m not buying into her wanting her virgin auction. She’s done the dumb and desperate thing, thinking she can wipe out her dad’s debts by selling herself. Clearly, she isn’t from a Mafia family. If this were Carla, I would have gone in her place. I would’ve forced them to take me instead. I’d do anything to stop this auction from happening, and this is the only way I can save her. I’m kidnapping Matteo and intend to swap him for this woman Stephano is now holding hostage.

With effort, I inhale softly and force a slow exhale out, trying to relax my shoulders. The yacht is moving farther and farther away from the marina.

“Fuck!” Matteo screams, frustration thick in his tone. He spins on his heel as he drags his fingers through his hair. He circles the room, muttering incoherently under his breath. At last, as if all hope is gone, he slumps down onto the sofa and buries his face in his hands.

For a full five minutes, it’s quiet as I guard the door and he just sits there. I glance through the window, watching as we finally slip into the waterway.

A knock on the glass door behind my back makes me jump. I turn around and stare wide-eyed at a massive man I’ve never seen before. Shit. I didn’t think this far. This guy has bodyguard stamped all over him, his thick fingers curled in a fist that looks as if it can break my neck by pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. His pale skin is accentuated by his bald head, his cheeks almost grey in the shade. He cocks a brow at me as he knocks again, and I step away, fearing him even though there’s bullet-proof glass between us.

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