Page 48 of Savage Union
"Had?"
"Had." His meaning was clear. "You see, I can help keep you safe. Just like I did for her."
Something about his quiet certainty broke through my defenses. We started meeting secretly after that—nothing romantic, though I sensed he still wanted more. Just conversations, strategies, tentative plans. I didn't love him—wasn't sure I even liked him—but his obsession with me now seemed like it could be useful.
Graduation approached, and with it, my father's insistence that I return home permanently, take my "rightful place" in the family. The night he announced he'd arranged a marriage for me with Carlo Bianchi—a Commission member three decades my senior with a reputation for breaking his wives—I knew I had to act.
Better to marry someone who was obsessed with me than face a lifetime with Bianchi while my father continued to terrorize my mother and sister.
I called Liam from a burner phone. "Remember when you said you could help me? I'm ready."
His response was immediate. "Name it."
"My father. I want him gone." The words felt both terrible and liberating. "In exchange, I'll marry you. An alliance between our families, protection for my mother and sister."
The silence stretched for several heartbeats before he answered. "Are you certain this is what you want?"
I wasn't. Not really. But what choice did I have? "I've never been more certain of anything."
"Then consider it done." His voice held no emotion, just cool professionalism. "Give me two weeks to arrange things. After that, you'll be free."
But fate—or Vito Rosso—had other plans. Before Liam could make his move, my father made the fatal mistake of plotting against the most dangerous man in New York.
Now I find myself engaged to the very man who unwittingly disrupted my own murderous plans.
I finish organizing the clothes, my thoughts still tangled in the past. The irony isn't lost on me—I escaped one forced marriage only to end up in another. At least Vito isn't three decades older, though that's cold comfort given everything else.
Exhaustion settles over me as I get ready for bed. Despite having my old room back for organizing the clothes, I know I'm still expected to sleep in Vito's room—in his bed. The thought makes my stomach knot with a complicated mix of dread and something else I refuse to name.
When I enter his bedroom, Vito is already there, reading a book in bed, shirtless as always. He glances up briefly before returning to his page. "Did you find suitable places for everything?"
"Yes." I move to the bathroom, changing quickly into the silk nightgown he provided. It feels like surrender, wearing what he's chosen, but tonight I don't have the energy to fight that particular battle.
The bed feels enormous yet too small as I slide under the covers, keeping to my edge as always. Vito sets his book aside and turns out the light without another word.
His breathing evens out quickly, suggesting he's either asleep or very good at faking it. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts racing. What does he know about the text? What consequences is he planning? And most pressingly, how can I contact Elena again?
I need to know if Liam responded. I need to understand what the Irish are planning. If they're moving against Vito, I should know—both for my own safety and to... what? Warn Vito? Let it happen? The thought of him being killed should bring me nothing but satisfaction after what he's done, yet something uncomfortable twists in my chest at the idea.
An hour passes before I'm certain Vito is truly asleep. His breathing is deep and regular, his body relaxed beside me. I wait another thirty minutes just to be safe, then carefully, inch by inch, I slide out from under the covers.
The penthouse is silent and dim as I make my way to my room to retrieve my hidden phone and then to the kitchen. I need a believable excuse if anyone catches me—a glass of water, a midnight snack. But the main living area is deserted. Even Dante, who often keeps late hours, is nowhere to be seen.
I dial Elena's number with trembling fingers. It rings three times before she answers, her voice hushed.
"Rina? Is that you?"
"Yes," I whisper, glancing nervously toward the hallway.
"Are you okay? Did he find out about the phone?"
"I think so, but he hasn't said anything directly." I take a deep breath. "Did Liam contact you? Did he get my message?"
"Oh, he got it all right." Elena's voice turns grim. "That's why I've been trying to reach you. The Irish are furious, Rina. Not just Liam—his father too."
My stomach drops. "What are they saying?"
"They're saying Vito kidnapped you, that you were supposed to be engaged to Liam as part of some deal between your families. Mickey's telling everyone who'll listen that Vito stole what was rightfully theirs." She pauses. "Mickey's planning to move against him, Rina. Soon."
