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Without thinking it through, Vincent stepped inside the stables. He’d take the girl. He’d do it for Maura. He’d make it all better. He’d rescue her from filth.
He paused when he saw her asleep on a tattered old mattress in the corner stall, the stench of manure thick and stifling. He took a few steps toward her to get a better look and saw her clutching a book in her arms. So small and frail, she looked helpless, but Vincent wasn’t fooled.
The bloodlust rose back up, desperation hitting him. He raised the gun and pointed it at her head, no hesitation as he pulled the trigger. Confusion hit him when nothing happened—no loud bang, no piercing scream, no blood.
His Smith & Wesson had never failed him before.
The sound of Corrado’s voice pulled him from the vicious memory. “Is that the last time you killed?”
Vincent sighed. “Yes.”
“As long as you realize you’ll have to kill again, we shouldn’t have a problem.”
“Thank you,” Vincent said as Corrado stood to walk out.
“Don’t thank me. You still might die.”
34
Carmine spotted his uncle the moment they stepped through the front door. Corrado surveyed them, assessing like he always did, and Haven’s head went down, her gaze focusing on the wood floor. Carmine reached for her instinctively, pulling her to him.
“Corrado,” Carmine said, nodding at him.
He returned the greeting. “Carmine.”
Carmine could feel Haven trembling, every exhale coming out as a shudder. Sighing, he leaned toward her and frantically searched for the right words to say. What could destroy the fear built up from being tortured for so many years and having the man in front of them refuse to help?
“He’s a decent guy,” Carmine said. “Minus the whole murdering thing.”
Yeah, that wasn’t it.
Haven gripped Carmine’s arm that was around her, her nails digging into his skin.
“This is my girlfriend, Haven,” Carmine said. “I don’t know if you’ve actually met her before.”
Everyone stared at him, but Carmine felt Haven relax in his arms. Her grip on him loosened as Corrado turned to her. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Haven remained silent for a moment before she spoke, her voice restrained. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
She held out her hand to Corrado. Carmine stared at it, stunned, as she extended her hand to the man she knew had never considered extending his to her.
Corrado looked just as surprised as he shook it lightly. “As it is you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to settle in.”
He headed upstairs, and Carmine smirked as Haven turned to look at him. There was curiosity in her eyes. “Your girlfriend? It’s not like he doesn’t know what I am.”
He shook his head. “What you are, Haven, is my girlfriend.”
“But—”
“No buts. Quit thinking about yourself that way. They’re just technicalities.” She cracked a smile as he used the word. “They’re titles other people give us. They don’t make us who we are. If you’re a slave, than I’m nothing more than Principe. Is that all I am? A Mafia prince?”
“Of course not.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Just because some people see us that way doesn’t mean it’s what we are. We’ll overcome our labels together. They don’t matter; they don’t make us who we are. We make us who we are. Fuck those motherfuckers.”
She laughed. “When did you get so smart?”
“Baby, I’ve always been smart,” he said playfully. “I’m just lazy as hell and rarely show it.”
