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“No. I mean that she will be my equal, that we will rule this family and the Tuscanis, and that we will seek blood and retribution against anyone who crosses us.”
“Why?” He runs a hand through his dark hair. “You killed her husband and then stole her. That’s never going to work.”
“Empires were built on less.” I smile, but I know it’s cold. The only one who seems able to warm me is behind my bedroom door, her panties wet and her cheeks pink.
“She isn’t some spoil of war.” He puts more force in his voice.
“I agree. And I think you’ll find that--”
The bedroom doors open, and Sophia steps out, her eyes going to her brother. “Marco!” She runs to him, and he catches her in his arms.
The surge of jealousy is out of place. First, because I’m not a jealous man. Second, because it’s her brother. But I’m beginning to think that first point is false when it comes to Sophia. I’ve never been jealous before, but she brings it out in me. I almost want to order my men to keep their fucking eyes down whenever she walks by. Because she’s mine. Mine to love, mine to hold, mine to watch, and definitely mine to fuck. She’s got this hold on me as if it’s been there my whole life, and I’ve only been waiting to find it. Now that I have, I’m never letting it go.
“Oh my God, Marco, you’re here.” She hugs him. “You’re really here, and you’re safe.”
“I’m fine. Are you all right?”
“I’m okay. How did you get here? Does Father know?” She pulls back and inspects his face. “Hey, what happened to your lip?”
“I’ll let you two talk.” I say the words despite the fact that I want to rip her away from him and lock her in my room so that I can make my mark all over her. It’s her brother, I remind myself.
“You’re leaving?” she asks.
The innocence in her tone, the trust and longing--fuck me. I’m done for. Dante was on point when he said I’m off the market for good, because when she asks me like that, like she wants me to stay forever, I can’t seem to find words.
So instead of speaking and giving myself away, I simply nod and head down the stairs. She needs time with her brother, and I need to ensure that the wedding will go as planned.
My tailor hurries over to me, the tux draped across his thin arms. “Please, sir. Once more.”
“All right.” I wave him to my office right as Dante enters the front door with a buxom blonde on his arm.
“Boss, I’d like you to meet Ava Carnegie.”
“Ms. Carnegie?” I stride to her and shake her warm hand. “Welcome.”
“Ah, thanks?” She looks around. “But I’m not sure why I’m here.”
“You’re a guest.” I smile, and she recoils a little. I know I’m a handsome man, but I also have a little something extra, a coldness that seemed to have settled in when I made my first kill at fourteen. I’m a predator, and whenever there’s prey around, they can sense it. By the way Ms. Carnegie is gawking at me, I can see she’s prey. The easy kind. No wonder Lorenzo Scalingi went after her.
“A guest?” She swallows hard.
“Of course.” I wave her toward the front sitting room. “Please make yourself at home. The ceremony will start in about an hour. Carlotta will see to your needs.”
As if summoned by the mention of her name, Carlotta appears from the back hallway. “Come now, Ms. Carnegie, I’ll sit with you for a spell. I’ve heard your hot cross buns are the talk of the neighborhoods when Easter rolls around.”
Ms. Carnegie is visibly relieved, the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes smoothing out as she latches onto Carlotta’s warmth. “Well, yes, it’s a family recipe.”
I pull Dante aside. “Anyone see you take her?”
He smirks. “Everyone.”
I pat him on the back. “Good. Tell the men that trouble is on its way. Be ready.” I pause and glance up the stairs to where my sweet bride awaits. “But I don’t care if World War Three breaks out, I will marry Sophia Scalingi tonight.”
