Page 40 of Hers to Control

The Angelo people turn to leave. Riccardo exchanges two kisses with Gianna before heading out the door, followed by his three security people.

Gianna waves for Max and Davide to leave the room. “What do you think of that?” she asks.

“Looks like Angelo’s giving you a shot. He’ll keep a close eye on things, though, for sure.”

Gianna nods. “My thoughts exactly.”

We both stay quiet for a moment. I want to get back to Mia, but I also miss the way Gianna and I used to hang out together, so I say nothing and wait.

“I want the wedding to happen soon. Get everything settled and get everyone used to it so we can get out of this limbo.”

Ah, hell. Exactly the conversation I wasn’t eager to have. “What do you have in mind?”

“A church wedding, of course. But only a small reception afterward. Just family. Maybe even in the villa.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Mikhail is Russian. Isn’t he an Orthodox?”

Gianna actually grins. “It’s still Christian. I can make the priest overlook the Orthodox part.”

We both chuckle at that. The priest at our church has a certain fondness for the Bruno’s. Or rather, he very much enjoys the money that is being funneled into his church from our family.

“Small reception at the villa, though?” That part, I like.

Gianna nods. “Yeah, we’ll make it just family and a contingent from the Angelo syndicate. That should help smooth things over with them.”

“And what will Mikhail think of your plans?” The guy was all over Gianna and obviously wanted the marriage, but he wasn’t exactly a pushover.

“He’ll want his sister there, but I’ll deal with that.”

“What about his father?”

Gianna tilts her head from one side to the other. “Mikhail doesn’t hate his father, but he never wanted to run the Bratva, and he dislikes the way Tsepov treats Anya. He doesn’t want awar, but he also won’t let his father dictate who he marries. I’ll make sure he’s on board with my plans.”

I nod, even though that doesn’t even cover half of the issue with Mikhail’s father. There is a good chance the old Ivan will use the wedding to fuck with us. It’s a huge black and white fuck you in his face, after all.

“I better get back to Mia. I’ll have to take a fucking huge roundabout way to get back to her as it is.”

Gianna looks at me levelly. “Are you going to treat her right?”

There it is. The distrust. She never outright accuses me of anything, keeps me close and lets me do my job, yet she doesn’t trust me the way I’ve always trusted her. Doesn’t trust me the way she used to. The resentment I feel is sharp and I pull out my knife to let it dance through my fingers.

“I’m going to marry her.” It’s not a question. Mia will be mine.

Gianna frowns. “Has Mia agreed to this?”

Now that’s a loaded question. I sheath my knife. “We haven’t actually discussed it yet.” That’s both honest and avoids any discussion about how many fucks I give whether Miawantsto marry me or whether she’ll just do it because it’s best for our baby. I won’t give her a choice. She’ll get used to it eventually, and we’ve got enough fucking chemistry between us that I know I can make her like being married to me.

“Well, good luck with that.” Gianna’s voice is skeptical, but she grins at me, and I take that as her way of giving me the go-ahead. I might just be deluding myself, but who gives a shit? This is one matter where I won’t letla familiadictate what I do. Mia and our baby are mine.

As I drive up to the cabin, a sense of foreboding creeps over me, prickling the hairs on the back of my neck. The tracker I put in her phone says she’s still here, which should have calmed me, but makes me all kinds of suspicious.

The dense canopy of trees looms overhead, casting eerie shadows across the dirt road. I wonder if Mia even tried to get away from here. Despite her promise, I expected her to at least have a go at it. Maybe start hiking to a nearby town on foot.

I would have been pissed, of course, but perhaps I had been looking forward to demonstrating to her that I’ll always come after her. That running isn’t going to change that I’m her future now.

Parking the car, I get out, scanning the area. The air is thick with the scent of pine and the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my boots echoes in the silence.

When I get to the door, I know something isn’t right. It’s hanging askew on its remaining hinge, obviously damaged by intruders. I stalk inside and see Mia’s backpack lying discarded on the ground. I bend down to pick it up, the fabric rough against my fingertips. It’s heavy, but I don’t bother checking the contents. First, I have to check the rest of the cabin.

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