Page 8 of Massimo

I remember Mancini yesterday. We had caught him and his co-conspirators red-handed. I literally carried him by his neck and tossed him into a fucking pine box, and he still came up spitting and ready to fight.

His daughter is the complete opposite.

There's not an ounce of fight in her. I can see her fear and wariness as she studies the Rolls Royce and the darkened windows that prevent her from seeing who's inside. But there's no fight.

I narrow my eyes.

Well played, princess.

Oh, she's good. So good, in fact, that she's conned my cousin; because Gemma speaks to her again, like she's trying to coax a kitten that's been kicked and who's hiding under the porch.

Nova Mancini is even more like her father than I expected. A snake hiding the grass, waiting to strike and sink her venomous fangs into those who least expect it.

I catch the tremor in Nova's hand as she grips the rail—her acting skills are on point. She keeps her head lowered, eyes averted from the guards flanking on either side to funnel her to the car. She doesn't try to escape.

Gemma opens the back door for Nova to get in, and she slips in without resistance. She startles, though, when her doe-like brown eyes fall on me.

There's a wide console in the back that separates our seats. But I'm a big man—tall and wide—and I let all the menace I feel about having to let her bastard father go roll off me in waves. Those two things make my presence in the backseat with her more threatening.

Which is my intent. I want her to know she's in my world now, at my mercy.

The princess sucks in sharply and falls back against the door.

Gemma gets into the vehicle and slams the passenger door. "Massimo," she warns.

My eyes slowly swing to Gemma. I communicate without words that this is my world, and I'm in charge here.

"He won't hurt you, Nova."

I raise my brow. "So sure of that, Gemma?"

Nova shrinks back more against the door and closes her eyes. Gemma glares at me.

"Stay in your lane, cousin," I warn.

"Don't be a fucking dick,cousin," she huffs, her anger evident, then turns to Gabe, and her dark look softens. "Hey, big guy. Miss me?"

He grunts in response, then puts the car into drive. The guards have gotten into the other two vehicles, where one leads us and the other takes position behind us.

Gemma's eyes—so much like my father's and Creed's—fall on the thick scar that starts behind Gabe's right ear and runs down his neck. That was one wound where we almost lost him; he had acted like an unhinged protector, just like my brother Vito, to protect Gemma and me when an enemy attacked. She blinks, probably pushing the memory away, and scans his muscular body and inky black hair while he's driving.

"You look good, Gabe."

His dark eyes cut over to her before turning back to the road. "You too, Gem."

Gemma twists in her seat to look at Nova. "Put your seat belt on."

Nova's head is slightly bowed, but she listens without hesitating.

My brows pull together with my severe frown. I don't like, nor do I want, this fake version of the princess. I want the real her—the version where she's just as bad as her vile father.

My patience for bullshit is limited on the best of days. After everything I've been juggling—keeping Vito and Eden alive, discovering Mancini's plot, but still having to spare his life—my patience is practically gone.

Add in the fact that I'd been conned and played by two of my supposed allies—and I pride myself on having a sharp sixth sense when someone is lying, yet I missed Lixin and Amazu's deception for months… It's a bloody miracle I have any patience left at all.

Granted, I'm glad there isn't the screeching banshee version of the princess I had anticipated. I had full intentions of restraining, gagging, and tossing her into the trunk if that was the case. However, this meek version she's trying to sell is really pissing me off.

"Look at me, princess." My tone is quiet but hard enough for her not to confuse me for caring about her outside of her being my checkmate chess piece.

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