Page 3 of Make You Mine

“You think I know?” I ask in response, barely holding back the bite in my tone. I hate this guy. Out of all the goons on Junior’s payroll, this guy irks me the most. There’s just something about him… Maybe it’s his overly slicked hair or the creepy glint in his eye; all I know is he’s someone I will never trust. Ever.

He scoffs. “Always so fucking pleasant.”

Rolling my eyes, I force myself to pay attention to the line that has finally begun to dwindle. Junior grabs my hand.

“We need to get going,” he whispers to me.

“But it’s not over yet… I can’t leave no?—”

“We’re going, principessa,” he demands as he latches onto my arm. The look on his face leaves no room for argument. I hate when he mocks me with my father’s nickname for me. It makes my stomach turn. So I cross my arms in defiance. Although I know it’s not worth the fight, I can't help myself.

Micah’s hulking form steps up to us before Junior has the chance to pull me away. His eyes focus on where Junior’s hand is wrapped around my bicep. “Heading out.” It’s more of a statement than the intended question. Junior may not notice it, but since my father's death, I see the disdain for him written across my brother's face any time they’re in one another’s proximity.

For years, I was reassured that Junior was nothing like his father, that I would be safe…He was different.Little did we know, he was just better at hiding the hateful monster that lives within him. He was patiently biding his time to materialize as something far worse than anyone could imagine.

He didn’t show his true colors during our very public engagement. He showered me with gifts and trips around the world to try to win my affection. Unbeknownst to him, nothing could change my mind. I had no heart left to give, as all of its pieces were left scattered on that hotel room floor three years ago.

Only after I acquired the Santini name did his façade crumble, and the true Giovanni Junior emerged. By that time, it was too late… Although classically handsome on the outside, I’ve learned his soul is as ugly as they come.

To think I went through with this marriage to keep my family safe, yet my father still wound up six feet under.What a fucking waste.

The sound of Junior’s voice breaks me from my pity party. “Don’t worry, we’re going to find whoever did this. You have my word.” His promise is directed toward my brother, whose jaw tics ever-so-slightly. He can see right through Junior’s bullshit.

Micah gives me a big hug and kisses my head before saying goodbye. “I love you, Ash. See you soon.” His dark hair falls across his forehead, blocking my view of any emotion shining through his big brown eyes.

“Be careful. Don’t go on a vigilante revenge mission or something like that,” I tell him in warning.

“Or something like that…” He winks and gives me a small smirk, before disappearing into the crowd. Even though I know how devastated he is, he’s trying his best not to show it.

“Let’s go,” Junior says, grabbing my arm again and steering me in the direction of our car, where Joey and Vito, one of Junior’s Capos, stand waiting, surrounded by a group of guards.

I internally scoff. For such big, tough men in this world, they sure are paranoid. Never without at least a guard or two by their side.

The hair on my neck tingles, and I whip my head to look around. With my heart now racing, I search desperately to lock eyes with the only person I know who can cause my body to react in such a way.

But my brain is playing tricks on me, trying to manifest his presence. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been a ghost for the last three years, I would have expected to see him amongst today’s crowd.

My heart aches to see him again. Even if just to know he’s okay. He is never far from my mind. Whatever he’s doing, I hope he’s safe. Safe from the horrible world that surrounds me.

I tuck my head and dip into the car. Any light that just brightened my eyes, thinking I might see Trent, fades instantly. My shoulders slump, my body feeling weighed down with hopelessness. No need to hide the disappointment on my face, as it blends so easily with the melancholy mood of the day.

“Drop the princess back off at the house, then we have some things to take care of,” Junior says to the driver. He doesn’t even glance in my direction, not caring how I'm dealing with the heaviness of what today means.

“I’d like to go to my mother’s,” I say, my gaze locking onto his when he finally spares me a blank look. I know she needs me right now; she just lost the love of her life. And I have been sequestered away, high in the castle tower this past week, for my “safety.”

“No,” he spits, then turns his attention back to the driver while I try my best to calm the fury bubbling under my skin.Trust me, I’ve tried to fight back, but that only gets my ribs bruised and my family threatened. I’m a caged bird.

Rain pelts the car windows as we make our way back to the Santini compound. That fortress will never be my home, no matter what this life brings. When we first moved in, Junior’s dad had given us our own wing. Since his passing, we have the whole place to ourselves. Endless rooms to live out the rest of my sentence. Because that’s what this marriage is. It's a life sentence…

I remain quiet and stare through glassy eyes as the world passes me by, hoping not to bring too much attention to myself. It's easier for me not to, and I'm in luck as I peek in Junior’s direction, seeing he’s now preoccupied with his phone. My head leans against the window, and I allow the silent tears to fall. Not only for my family, but for me…and the what ifs that keep me up at night.

Two

Awet nose nudges my hand as I stand in the middle of my walk-in closet, debating my outfit choice. With Junior’s permission and a babysitter in tow, I'm meeting Lottie for coffee today before she and Greyson head back to Richmond Hills. Junior was a bit too quick to agree, I’m sure solely so I’d be out of earshot for a meeting he’s holding in the house this afternoon. Regardless, I'm happy about the escape.

My fingers scratch behind Nori’s ear when I feel him nudge my hand for a second time. “What’s up, buddy?” I say to my Doberman as I crouch next to him. The puppy eyes he gives me lead me to believe he doesn’t want me to leave. “I promise I won’t be gone for long,” I tell my possessive protector. At ease with my words, he turns around and heads to his bed in my room.

Nori is one of my favorite gifts I’ve ever received. I remember when Micah brought him over with a big bow on his neck the week of my wedding. My brother claimed that since he could no longer be my guard dog, I needed one of my own.

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