Page 18 of Claimed By Him

My own sister was promised to the Moretti family. Yet another marriage was arranged to create ties between us and them, and I wondered if Fiona would be passed on to Fred’s younger brother just so they could keep their ties with the Rossis. The whole concept disgusted me.

I knew that this was the life of the mafia, an almost royal bloodline that needed to be intertwined perfectly to keep the balance of power. But that wasn’t what I wanted for myself. At this point, I didn’t know what I wanted. All I knew was that the one person I truly believed in didn’t believe in me, and that was enough for me to grow dark and emotionless.

It was enough for me to spend the rest of the day getting drunk as fuck with Ace and spend the evening in a strip club. All the women there fought over the chance to give the Romano prince a lap dance. I immersed myself in tits and ass, shots, and brown liquor. I took two of the girls to a hotel room and spent the rest of the night not sleeping.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, would erase the look of pure anger and hatred on Fiona’s face from my memory.

9

Fiona

Present day, age 20

“Damn, girl,” I said, looking at my dress in my full-length mirror and tipping my head to the side. “Who needs a husband when you can love yourself this much?”

I was in my bedroom at the family house. We were all going to leave together for Huxley and Olivia’s one-year anniversary party, thrown by her father at the Romano house. I was good and ready to let loose tonight, even if it was with my family and the rest of the Italian mafia community. I’d been so in my head about who to marry and what my future life would entail, that I just wanted to forget about it all for one night.

After rubbing a moisturizing product onto my hands, I brushed my fingers through my hair, crunching it into my curls. My long, dark, chocolate-brown hair was natural tonight, wildly curly, yet still soft and bouncy.

My dress was a mid-thigh length, sequined material in hot pink, hanging loosely over my naked boobs, and cinched in at the waist. I had to say, it complimented my dark Italian skin perfectly. Lastly, I sat on the edge of my bed and tied my black, thin strap heels onto my feet, showing off my fresh pedicure.

I sat back, sighing, and looking at myself in the mirror. I wondered if Tony was going to pin me against something again tonight like he had in our kitchen last week. I hated admitting that I fucking wished he would.

I also hated admitting that I wondered what he would think of my dress and my hair. The whole time, I wanted to know what he thought—of me, my marital issues, of Antonio; I even wondered who he thought I should marry. I just wanted to know his opinion the whole time, and it was killing my mood.

Last week in my loft apartment, I’d done absolutely no thinking about who I would marry. I looked at the list—saw various names, some I recognized, some I didn’t. Some were younger, the sons of businessmen Antonio dealt with. Others were older—in their thirties, maybe even forties—actual business associates of his. That was when I stalled out and thought of Tony because I instantly compared the older men to him. He was still young at 26, but older than the wet-behind-the-ears sons Antonio had listed. He was a perfect age.

If only he didn’t piss me the hell off every time I saw him. I couldn’t help but look at him and see a stone-cold killer. I resented my father and my brothers for the business they were in and for the violence they took part in. I knew their reasonings, and I knew the benefits their work had for the community. But I resented that it was my family who had to do that work, putting us all in constant danger. I just wanted to be normal, to go out in public and have fun, to show the world what I could do and who I could be if I had the chance.

Tony was anything but normal. I knew Antonio was a ruthless guy, but for some reason, I saw Tony as even worse. Even more unforgiving and cruel. It probably had to do with what happened to Frederico and the fact that I still believed Tony killed him. No one else knew or even suspected foul play. It was just this festering piece of information that sat with me, never truly confirmed. So, subconsciously, I knew Tony wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted. Not at all.

No matter how badly my body wanted him, my mind knew that marrying him—if he was even an option, which he was not—wouldn’t solve any of my problems. In fact, I’d probably be worse off. If Tony was already a controlling and protective bastard now, imagine how he would be if I was his wife. I’d probably be locked up in a fucking tower.

If Frederico was still alive, I would have none of these problems. I’d probably already be married, and by the way Freddie seemed to hate his father, we might have even run away together. Who knows?

Instead, I was left with an uncertain future and no idea who the hell I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

I shrugged the thoughts off and snatched up my little purse with a long strap that I threw over my head and draped to hang against my hip. When I descended the stairs, the limo had already pulled up outside in the courtyard, driven by Vinnie. Antonio and Mia appeared from their room and followed me down.

“Fiona, you have anything to tell me?” Antonio asked when we were in the back of the limo. “Any recent decisions you’ve made?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Antonio. Not yet.”

He lifted his chin and looked at Mia. “Alright, good.”

My head jerked to him. “What the hell does that mean?”

The smallest of smiles tugged at the side of his mouth. “It means that you’ll be able to meet a few of your listed men tonight and make a better decision.”

“Urg…” I dropped my head back against the headrest. “I just wanted to relax tonight, Antonio!”

“You know these parties are never business-free,sorellina. It’ll be great, you’ll see.”

Vinnie pulled up to Huxley and Olivia’s villa further up the estate, and they shuffled in with wide smiles.

“Olivia, you look stunning!” Mia complimented her, basically telling Antonio and me to shut it for now. I smiled, though I couldn’t help but notice that both my happily married brothers were sitting comfortably with their wife’s hands on their thighs, while I sat alone.

It wasn’t that I wanted a man sitting next to me, at least not entirely. I was just mostly tired of being expected to fit in with them when I saw my life as something entirely different than theirs. I wasn’t the same as them, and I would never be. A quick flash of unwarranted imagination put Tony at my side, my hand gripping his strong thigh, and his eyes looking down at me with sexy, dark intentions.

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