Page 24 of The Don's Soulmate

I reach out to stroke Carlotta's trembling cheek. “I won’t hurt you,” I reiterate. She flinches but doesn't pull away. Behind the fear clouding her eyes, a spark ignites between us and I can tell because she leans into my touch. A thought crosses my mind: What would it be like to own a woman I could touch when I wanted? To know she’s mine, and mine alone.

Some other woman perhaps, but not her. I turn away from her, straighten my posture and face forward.

I don’t say a word. It’s not my place. Women in families like ours; this is what they’re brought up to do. Except Laura, of course. My sister fought, clawed, broke her way to freedom and my brother and I, though resistant at first, saw she proved her mettle.

The car rolls to a stop outside the imposing iron gates of the D'Amici estate. I step out, pulling Carlotta with me. She trembles against my side as I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her close.

Two guards approach from a distance, shouting, “This is private property! Leave now, or we’ll remove you by force!” In the shadows, they can’t see who we are.

I chuckle darkly, unimpressed by their bravado. "I don't think so, boys. You see, I have something that belongs to your boss." I tighten my grip on Carlotta and pull out a gun, placing it on herhead. Her breath hitches, and I feel her legs give way as she lets out a short scream.

I wish I could tell her that I won’t actually shoot her, but the guards are by our side now. They panic, noticing I’m holding the D’Amici princess, and they glance over at my car, and the convoy following. Our family emblem, bolted on every number plate, makes it abundantly clear who I am.

“Let her go,” one of the guards says, his hand reaching for his holster.

I pull cock my revolver, the clicking sound loud and clear. A whimper escapes Carlotta. "Now, be good lads and open the gates before things get messy."

The guards hesitate, eyeing Carlotta. I can practically see the wheels turning in their heads, debating whether or not to risk defying a man who’s holding Salvatore D’Amici’s daughter as leverage.

I lean in, my head now resting on Carlotta’s neck. Her skin, soft and smooth, smells like roses. My voice is low and dangerous, and I feel the thin hair on her neck rise as I breath into it. "Tick tock, gentlemen. My patience is wearing thin."

After a tense beat, one of the guards reaches for his radio, murmuring something unintelligible. With a mechanical groan, the gates slowly swing open.

I flash them a predatory smile. "Wise choice."

I motion at my driver with the gun to bring the convoy in. There’s no way I’m going to be entering alone.

As we step onto enemy territory with my cars following and Carlotta pressed against me like a second skin, I feel a thrill of anticipation course through my veins. The games are just beginning, and I always play to win.

“Wh…what are you doing?” Carlotta whispers, as I push her forward, gun still to her head.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts, and focus on the task at hand. "I'm here to save you, Carlotta," I tell her softly, my voice filled with determination. "I won't let them marry you off to that monster. But I can’t do that without using you.”

I can feel her body trembling against me, and I know she's terrified. But there's a spark of hope in her eyes as she cranes her neck to look at me, a subtle shift in her expression that tells me she trusts me.

I stride through the grand foyer of the D'Amici mansion, Carlotta still firmly in my grasp. The sound of hurried footsteps echoes from the marble staircase, and I look up to see Salvatore and Angelo descending, their faces contorted with anger.

"What the hell is the meaning of this?" Salvatore demands, his voice booming through the spacious room. "How dare you barge into my home uninvited!"

Angelo, the ever-loyal son, flanks his father, his eyes narrowed and fists clenched. "Release my sister immediately, Mancini, or suffer the consequences."

I stand my ground, unfazed by their blustering. Carlotta trembles against me, and I instinctively pull her closer, my grip protective yet unyielding. She almost stumbles when I move forward too fast, and I clench my hand against her waist, pulling her against me so hard, our bodies seem plastered together.

Her brother bellows and steps forward, his hand on his holster, but I shake my gun at her forehead to keep him in check. "Relax, gentlemen. I'm not here to harm Carlotta. On the contrary, I'm here to save her from the monster you've chosen as her fiancé."

Salvatore scoffs, his face reddening with indignation. "How dare you? “I don’t know how this happened, but get your bloody hands off my daughter!”

“And have you shoot me in the face?” I laugh back. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Salvatore.”

Carlotta gasps, probably shocked at how I address her father. What she doesn’t realize is that her father and I are closer in age than she is to me. I look young, but I’ve got forty-five years under my belt.

“You have no right to interfere in our family matters, Mancini. Carlotta's engagement is none of your concern."

I feel a surge of anger at his dismissive tone. How can a father be so blind to his daughter's suffering? "None of my concern? It wouldn’t have been, if I hadn’t found that Ugo Caputo with his lecherous hands all over her in a seedy alleyway,” I tell them.

“And where are your hands now?” Angelo screams at me, his eyes tracing how I grip her by the waist.

I can see the fury in his eyes, and the blood rushes to my temples. It's our first confrontation, the two eldest sons, but I have a feeling it won’t be our last.

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