Page 12 of Massimo

"She's not acting." Gemma's nails dig into my forearm through my suit. "She's—"

"What?" A malicious spike of rage pushes through. "Kind? Sweet? Innocent? You're beingplayed, Gemma. Now, which luggage pieces are yours?" I point at the three large ones and a duffel bag.

Her throat works as she swallows her frustration. "All of them except the duffelbag."

"I thought you said the princess packed?" According to Gemma, Nova was supposed to be flying back to Boston today, where she'd be married off to form an alliance with the French mafia.

Dark satisfaction fills me that I've fucked with Mancini and stopped that alliance from occurring.

"That's all she had," Gemma insists. "The rest was left in the closet at the hotel."

Annoyed anger ripples through me. Thousands of dollars in designer clothes—I'd seen the pictures of how she dressed—and she probably would only wear them once. It was beneath her to wear something twice. The horror.

Entitled. Spoiled.Princess.

I jerk the duffel bag out of the trunk and toss it to Gabe. At my curt nod, he opens Nova's door, and she finally steps out.

Gabe isn't quite as large as I am, but he's still a big guy. Nova looks ridiculously small, made even more so by how she curls in on herself, keeping her head down.

The size disparity and the way she looks so helplessandfightlessboils my anger over, and I can't keep my face unreadable any longer.

Nova glances up at me through lowered lashes and pales when she sees the look on my face. Her eyes dart to the six guards who are getting out of their SUVs. Her lower lip trembles, and she quickly looks away.

A-list actress right here.

Gabe nudges her to start walking, and she walks ahead of him without a word or any resistance. I follow behind Gabe with Gemma hot on my heels.

The tall, solid mahogany door swings open, and Jerome steps to the side. He inclines his head at Nova, not saying a word. If he disapproves of what I'm doing, he doesn't show it. But Jerome has been with my family for years—the activities in the Don's house never seem to phase him.

We enter the sprawling foyer, its polished marble floors gleaming beneath a large crystal chandelier that hangs between the front door and the curving staircase.

Gabe nudges Nova toward the staircase, knowing the room prepared for her—her new gilded cage—is upstairs.

My anger gets the best of me, though, and my monstrous cold side wins. It's the certainty that Nova is pulling a con, trying to make a fool of me, so she can hide, waiting to sink her fangs in—and that she's completely duped Gemma—that makes me stop Gabe.

"Not upstairs. Downstairs."

Gabe stops mid-stride, looking at me in surprise. There's a question in his eyes, but wisely, he doesn't challenge me. He's my best friend, yes, but I'm the Don. My word goes.

"Leave her bag."

Gabe drops the duffel bag on the floor, then leads Nova toward the back of the house to the locked stairwell that goes down to the basement.

Nova trembles but doesn't protest.

I want to smile like a deranged psycho, thinking that the princess thinks it's just a different bedroom—probably not even considering that I'd put someone like her in the equivalent of a cell.

I jerk my chin at the discarded duffel bag. "Please get rid of that, Jerome."

"Sir? To the room prepared previously or in the trash?"

"To the bedroom," I say tightly.

Jerome takes the bag and walks up the stairs. I head toward my office down the hallway on the left side of the staircase. Gemma's shoes clicking on the marble floor tell me she's right behind me.

"Massimo."

I keep walking and enter my office, heading straight for the beverage cart. Yes, I know it's not even nine in the morning, but I've been up most of the night trying to put everything in place for my princess captive and calling in the favors required to keep Vito and Eden's future safe and secure. I pour a vodka on ice and sip it while staring out the window at the garden maze.

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