Page 57 of The Savage

CHARLOTTE

CLUB MAFIA

We watch the helicopters land, and I can already tell something isn’t right.

“What’s happening?”

I whisper to Ivan, who is stretched out beside me on the sun bed by the pool. For the last few days, we have treated our stay here as a honeymoon and I am more in love with my husband than ever. We spent our time making love and soaking up the sun, taking refreshing dips in the pool and generally acting like any other couple deeply in love. Our nights are spent wrapped in each other’s bodies and exploring every possibility and every inch of one another.

The dreaded phone call never came and now we are being invaded, reminding me of the day this all started. No wonder I’m anxious, but Ivan just stretches out and says with a sigh, “It appears the boys are back in town.”

“What boys?”

“Club Mafia.”

He sighs and sitting up, peers at the sight with an irritable frown.

“We should get some clothes on. You can stay here if you like, but you may be more comfortable inside.”

“You’re probably right.” Jumping up, I take his hand and we run back into the house and up to our bedroom.

As we shower and change, I can’t stop the nerves from eating me up inside and Ivan must sense that because he pulls me close and when his strong arms wrap around me, I breathe a sigh of relief. As long as I’m in them, surrounded by his delicious form of close protection, nothing can hurt me.

We head downstairs to meet Ivan’s friends and as we reach the living room, I notice that Angelo and Malik are deep in conversation by the fireplace. They look up as we enter, and I don’t miss the serious expressions on their faces and wonder if I should leave them to talk.

Ivan grips my hand even tighter and says gruffly, “What’s up?”

Angelo offers me a warm smile, but I don’t miss the anxiety in his eyes as he says with a sigh, “The plan won’t be going ahead. Massimo declined the invitation.”

I stare at them in shock and yet it’s as if he dealt me a knockout punch with a lifeline attached.

“He doesn’t want to see me?”

My eyes are wide because I wasn’t expecting this and for a moment Angelo looks sorry for me. Not that he should, because I don’t even know this man and the fact he doesn’t want to meet me fills me more with relief than disappointment.

Ivan growls, “The bastard. He guessed it was a trap.”

“I would have been more surprised if he agreed.”

Malik sighs. “It was always a possibility, and he is playing a cunning game. His answer came with an open invitation for Charlotte to visit him whenever she is ready. She only has to call, and he will arrange transportation.”

He looks at me pityingly. “He forwarded his personal number to be passed onto you but said his wife would not be able to survive without him and had requested to stay.”

Angelo hisses, “I’m not sure what game he is playing, but there is no way in hell Winter would elect to stay with that bastard. There is something more to this, which is why we’re here.”

We all look up when the door opens, and Flynn arrives, but he’s not alone.

When I see the man beside him, my heart twists and then plummets to the depths of my soul. This man is darkness personified. Like Ivan, he is heavier than the rest, a solid mass of muscle that clothing can barely contain, and his black hair is pulled in a tight ponytail behind his head. His dark turbulent eyes flash in my direction and my mouth dries and I lose the power of speech in an instant.

Ivan confirms what I’m thinking when he says with a hint of emotion, “Alessandro.”

He breaks away and I watch with tears in my eyes when he hugs his friend, and I can tell the feeling is mutual. Of all his friends, Ivan considers Alessandro his closest one and I’m guessing he is emotional because of what he’s going through. Ivan told me he had a connection with Winter and has given up his future as a Hollywood director to re-join his grandfather’s organization in Sicily.

Once again, the word mafia whispers like a demon of hell around my soul, coaxing me in and promising dark times ahead. Of all of them, Alessandro plays this part well because this man fucking terrifies me.

He steps back and as his eyes find mine, my breath hitches at the emotion in them and he looks at Ivan and shakes his head, before crossing the room to stand before me. If I thought he would be angry, I was wrong because he holds out his hand and says in a deep voice, “You must be Charlotte. Welcome to the family.”

As I take his hand, I relish the power of his grip and remember Ivan telling me fondly of the fights the two of them enjoyed, making me wonder if I’ve married a madman. “I’m sorry...” My voice sounds small and hesitant, and he shakes his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about. Maybe your marriage, but I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to rid yourself of that burden one day.”

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