Page 108 of Thorns of Death
“Okay,” I rasped.
“Do you mean it,dolcezza?” Enrico questioned. “I can’t have you in danger. Kian’s a good man, but his brother isn’t. A decent father doesn’t send his daughter to a brothel to pay off his debt. We arrange marriages. We make alliances, but never use our women for something so lowly.”
Gulping in a deep breath, I nodded my agreement. If my other uncle and grandfather had no qualms hurting my mother, they certainly wouldn’t feel any attachment to me.
Enrico’s fingers resumed massaging my shoulders, touching me, almost as if he needed the comfort as much as I did.
“If you ever need help or want to get out of this life”—Kian didn’t bother looking at Enrico, but judging by my husband’s low growl, he knew what he intended to say—“just say the word and I’ll come for you. No matter where. No matter when. I’ll go up against everyone to keep you safe if I have to.”
I leaned back into Enrico’s touch, either to comfort him or ensure he didn’t lunge at my newfound uncle.
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Enrico’s fingers resumed tracing my skin. “But I’m safe right where I am.”
And I meant it. If I needed rescuing, I wouldn’t be a damsel in distress. I’d fight tooth and nail and reach out to my new alliances. But first and foremost, I’d depend on myself.
“How did your mother die?” Kian’s question sliced through the air.
My spine snapped straight and tension seeped into my bones. Instinctively, I knew if I told Kian that my brother had killed his baby sister, he would go after him. I didn’t forgive Illias, but I couldn’t condemn my brother to death. When Tatiana was alive and well, I’d drag the truth out of him. If it was the last thing I did.
“Childbirth,” I said instead.
After all, one took care of his or her family. Maybe I was more Konstantin than Cortes.
THIRTY-SEVEN
ENRICO
Two hours later, we arrived at one of Konstantin’s restaurants. Isla had a surprise for the boys and refused to stay inside the safety of the hotel. I was quickly coming to the realization that I was incapable of refusing any of my wife’s wishes.
She had exchanged her jeans for a beautiful strapless black top and tulle skirt, Christian Louboutin heels, and a vintage purse. She looked incredible, of course, but I thought she was just as gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt.
While we waited for the hostess who was bustling around the busy restaurant, I kept my eyes on her as she whispered softly back and forth with the boys. Kian stood on the other side of her, his eyes often coming back to my wife. It was unsurprising that he recognized her the moment he spotted her. From the photos I’d seen, the physical traits between Isla and Louisa Maria Cortes were strong. They could have been twins.
“Did it go well?” Manuel questioned, speaking in Italian.
It certainlywent, although I wasn’t sure if it went well or not. Isla had barely uttered anything of significance since learning the truth about her mother from Kian. I waited—anticipated—for her to explode from the confirmation that her mother ended up in one of my family’s brothels.
Instead, she hadn’t commented on it.
We returned to our room, the boys already dressed and waiting for us. Isla had promised them a night out, and they were ready. I was so fucking tempted to send them back to their room. I needed to know what was going on in that brilliant head of hers.
“As well as it could,” I answered in the same language.
“Kian is already protective,” Manuel remarked, sticking to our native language. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to give her a way out of this life.”
“He did.” My tone was dry. In truth, I was still surprised she refused her uncle. It remained to be seen whether it was to bestow her own vengeance on me or to embrace our life together.
She was part of the Marchetti family, whether she liked it or not. I meant what I said on our drive from the hospital. Nobody fucked with my family. And nobody would fuck with my wife. Family or not. Friend or foe. She was mine to cherish. To fuck. To love.
Granted, it started out rocky.Cazzo, I wished she were pregnant with my baby. That would secure her commitment, if nothing else.
“Oh my gosh.” The hostess’s eyes widened as she watched my wife and I stiffened, ready to reach for my gun. “Is that really you? Illias’s little sister?”
“Hello, Mrs. Pavlov. Nice to see you again.”
The former pulled her into a hug. “I never thought I’d see you again. You have grown up.”
Isla chuckled. “Not much taller I’m afraid.”
