Page 16 of Rotten Men

I know it was a risk coming here, but ifMammà’sintel is good, then Giovanni’s father no longer has any ties to the syndicate, which means his clubs will fall onto Gio’s shoulders to deal with. As much as the big guy insisted I make my visit during normal working hours, I know that would be an even riskier move—too manymade menhang out at this club. I got lucky the first time I came with Pietro when I was seventeen, but I won’t tempt fate so easily now.

Seems like a lifetime ago he brought me here. Whatever his intentions were that night, he had always been my friend. He might have deserved my wrath at the end, but he never deserved the grave outcome he was given. That night he had made me feel like anormalfor the first time ever. It was also the night Gio had danced with me, making my heart yearn even more for such a beautiful, ordinary existence.

I pray he will be able to help me today. My feeble hopes are that he’s forgiven me for leaving him all those years ago and that he’ll come to my aid this one last time. I’m also praying that he’s still as defiant as ever; since he’ll need to be, where Vincent is concerned. I had no illusions that facing him would be anything less than difficult. I just never assumed I’d see so much hate in his eyes. He has grown up to be a beautiful, cold monster, just like he always aspired to be; like the Outfit demanded him to become. They won their champion while I lost the troubled boy I will never stop loving.

Vincent may kill me if I so much set foot on his property again, but does Giovanni share the same hatred? I hope not. Because as much as seeing Vincent was both gut-wrenchingly painful and depressing, I desperately need to put my eyes on the curly-haired boy I once vowed my heart to.

My ears pick up the sound of the huge bouncer walking back to me, and he finally comes into view with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, Blondie, I don’t know if I should be happy for you or concerned, but bossman wants a word with you after all.”

I give him a tight nod and stiffen my back to follow him behind the bar to the stairs leading to the basement. The bouncer’s guess on the result of my little unannounced visit is as good as mine, unfortunately. If Gio and Vincent share the same animosity toward me, then in the best case scenario I leave here empty-handed, and the worst… well, the worst is that not even dental records will help identify my body once the Outfit is through with me.

The corridor is long and oddly well lit, with only two closed doors on each wall, but it’s the door marked ‘office’ at the very end of the hall that makes my heart pitter-patter with equal parts wistfulness and trepidation.

“Just knock and go on in, Blondie. I’d say holler if you need any help, but you’re on your own,” he advises, shaking his head in pity.

I understand his concern. No one in their right mind would seek out amade manso foolhardily. There are always repercussions where the Outfit is involved, especially when not adhering to syndicate laws. The stranger next to me is just clueless that I’m already very much aware of what they are. I was groomed to know them by heart. I refuse to let them cripple me now, but for the last decade, I have been haunted by one in particular—death to all traitors of thefamigliaand to any who dare break the Omertà code. I’m a dead woman walking on both accounts.

“Thanks,” I mutter under my quaking breath. He gives me another grim smile and leaves me to my impending doom. I take a minute to get myself together, but the two hard knocks I intended to plant on the door are just as weak as I’m feeling.

“Come in,” I hear a man announce on the other side of the door.

I open it slowly and step inside, looking at the floor instead of the man I thirst to put my eyes on. I pinch my palms with my nails, raising the courage I need, and lift my head up to see a blond man almost as big and imposing as the one that brought me to his door. He’s sitting on a black leather couch, pinching the crown of his nose, and looking worse for wear. In his white dress shirt and black slacks, he looks far too sophisticated and handsome to be the one the Outfit turns to when it has enemies that need to be eliminated.

“I’m only going to ask this once, and I expect the truth out of you. Where did you find this bracelet?” Dominic growls, as he carefully traces each silver bead with tenderness, not once looking up at the girl he gave such a thoughtful gift to.

His roguish blond beard covers most of his angelic features, as do the small scars that weren’t there before, but I would have recognized my blue-eyed angel any day. My broken insides sing just by standing here, looking at the frown on his face growing wider as each second passes without me giving him a reply.

“You gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday,” I whisper, and his bowed head jerks up to cast his first sight on me. The corner of my mouth twitches when I see him pinch his wrist, to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

“Red?” he asks, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Blondie, apparently,” I try to joke, but it falls flat on the hardwood floor.

He rises from his perched position and takes two steps in my direction, eating up most of the distance between us with those long strides.

“Red? Is it really you?” he questions again, his ocean-blue eyes resembling a perfect storm of tumultuous feelings.

“Hi, Dominic,” I whisper, my own greedy eyes taking in every large inch of him. I left him a boy, only to return to a marked, cut-up man.

“Jesus! Thank fuck!” he wails and takes me into his arms with such force it almost takes the wind out of me.

His hold is so tight, so warm and comforting, yet I feel myself trembling in his hold.

“Jesus, Red. I missed you so much,” he whispers in my ear, his fast heartbeat in symphony with my own. “So fucking much!”

And it’s in my angel’s embrace that I finally let myself shed tears for our lost youth.

For our lost love.

It’s in my protector’s arms that I shatter.

Seven

Dominic

“I thought you were fucking dead, Selene. Dead! Tell me I’m not losing my mind? Tell me it’s really you?” I beg as she holds onto my waist with such fervor, her silent tears inundating my chest, making it all the more difficult to keep my frail emotions at bay.

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