Page 399 of Savage Bosses

“I know I haven’t been the perfect mom. But I’ve always protected you. You don’t have to run. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know, mom,” Tati said, smiling.

“And sweetie, I’m sure Bryceson isn’t really mad at you. I mean, him becoming a killer was inevitable. His father is probably thrilled about it.”

“Bryce didn’t want to be like them, ma. He wanted to be better. And because of me, he’s…” Tatianna became choked up on the last word. “It’s my fault,” she cried, a fresh wave of tears running down her cheeks. “His family didn’t do it. I did. I…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Okay. Okay. Rest. I won’t talk about it anymore. No more crying. Clear your head and go to sleep. I’ll be there in the morning.”

That night, Tatianna went to bed again without talking to Bryce. The next morning, her mom showed up, ready to take her to run errands. It took them all day to get things taken care of. And within three days, she had everything she needed to leave the country and not look back. Her mom took her to the airport and stayed with her until it was time for her to leave.

She kept checking her phone, hoping for a call from Bryce. Hoping he’d tell her to stay because he wasn’t mad at her and didn’t blame her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t a monster. Marco was. She wanted to tell him that she was ashamed of herself for being weak and unable to protect herself, forcing him to step in and do it for her.

She wanted to tell him that she hated looking at herself in the mirror now because when she did, she saw a monster. But she never got the chance because that call never came. And if it came one day, she’d never know because her mom took her old phone before she boarded the plane and gave her a new one registered under the new name. Tatianna Dupree was gone. Iris Nolin was heading to France.

“Goodbye, Bryce,” she whispered after she took her seat on the plane. “I don’t blame you for not calling. I don’t blame you for hating me. I hope you find a way out from under your father’s shadow one day.”

As the distance between them grew, so did the hope that someday, Bryce would understand why she’d left without saying a word.

“Goodbye, my love,” she whispered as she stared out the window. “I will always carry you in my heart. Always.”

What Tatianna didn’t realize was that sometimes distance didn’t strengthen or weaken bonds. Sometimes, it corrupted them, which was what she learned when she and Bryce met again years later. He was no longer the man who once loved her. He now held a grudge against her.

He was now the man who wanted to make her suffer the way he’d suffered. She’d left to keep him from turning into a monster. Instead, her absence had created a monster. A monster who considered her his prey.

A monster who’d needed that phone call just as much as she had.

Chapter Six

Bryceson

Italy

T

he sun blazed down on the Italian countryside as Bryceson Cattaneo and his father, Patrick Cattaneo, arrived at their family's villa. Large olive trees lined the winding driveway, providing shade to the thirteen cars parked there. The family had gathered to welcome them in style.

"It’s good to be back in Italy, where our family is from. Isn’t it, son?" His father clapped a hand on Bryceson's shoulder, a rare moment of affection from the hardened mafia capo.

"Yeah. It’s good to be back," Bryceson mumbled, his thoughts miles away, back in America with Tatianna.

He wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her. Was she mad at him for leaving so abruptly? Had she bought his story that he’d left to check out some vineyards with his dad? Guilt washed over him. Lying to her wasn’t right. But he couldn’t face her yet. He feared he’d take one look into her pretty brown eyes and break down.

He wouldn’t be able to face her until he came to terms with what he’d done. He couldn’t face her until he’d buried that memory deep within him so that the truth wouldn’t come rushing out of his mouth the moment she asked him what was wrong.

As they entered the villa, they were greeted by over a dozen relatives, some of whom Bryce had only seen in old family photos or heard stories of from his father and his uncle, Don Cattaneo.

For days, Bryceson was regaled with more stories of the Cattaneo family's past glory and how they once ruled the criminal underworld with an iron fist. That was before they took the fall for the DeLuca family. Before then, they’d been a force to be reckoned with.

"Ah, those were the days, huh?" Uncle Luca reminisced over glasses of wine. "Back then, we had power like you wouldn't believe."

"Times have changed," a distant cousin replied with a sigh, staring down at his plate of food.

Bryce swirled his glass of wine. He’d been swirling it ever since they all sat down to eat. His heart wasn't in these conversations, and his mind was hundreds of miles away.

"Enough talk of the past," Patrick interjected, a steely edge to his voice. "We need to speak of the present and the future. But that can wait. Let's enjoy some of Nonna's famous pasta, eh?"

As the family dug into the hearty meal, Bryceson picked at his food, lost in thought. His father seemed more intense, more focused than usual. There was an undercurrent of tension in the air that Bryceson couldn't quite put his finger on. However, his instincts told him something wasn’t right.

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