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“Nothing, just stating facts.” John stands, and I stand with him.
“Sure, but tell me, John. You have a lot to gain, now that your pops is out of the picture. Any idea on where a humble kitchen girl would have gotten her hands on the drugs she used?” If this fucker is going to accuse me of shit, I’ll throw it right back at him.
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.” He pivots on his heel, stopping when he gets to the door.
“If any blowback comes from this engagement falling through, I expect that you’ll support the Mortello family.”
“Naturally.” I nod. Following him out the door, I head back to my office. I send Neo a text message on the way, asking him to arrange marriage documents for me and Holly—dated for two days ago.
It takes all of three seconds before my phone is ringing. “What?”
“Why the fuck do you need to falsify marriage documents?” Neo grunts through the phone.
“Because I just told John Junior I can’t marry his sister, considering I’m already married. Can you do it or not?”
“I can get it done. The real question is: can you get Holly to actually sign them, or are we forging her signature too?”
“I’m not fucking forging her signature. She’ll sign.” Even as I say the words, I know getting her to agree to this isn’t going to be a piece of cake. I feel like I’m ripping her off, taking away the big, fancy-as-fuck wedding she deserves.
I walk back into my office, noting that the two men I posted at the entrance are gone. Opening the office door, I find it empty and my stomach bottoms out. Where the fuck is she? I left her in here.
“Maria, where the fuck did Holly go?” I yell, even though the old woman only sits two feet away.
“She said she was going out to get lunch, Mr. Valentino.”
“When did she leave?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
I head for the elevator, sending Neo another message to get me the GPS location of Holly’s phone. By the time the elevator doors open, he replies, letting me know she’s in the lobby of this building.
I have no idea how he tracks people down so quickly, but it’s a skill of his I utilize often. My heart settles a little, knowing she’s in the lobby. That is, until the doors open on the ground floor, and I see her across the room.
My steps are quick and purposeful as I push my way through the crowd to get to her. I glare at my two guards for standing there and not doing a damn thing to stop this. They will be dealt with. But first…
“John, is there a reason you have my wife backed up against a fucking wall?” I growl as I approach them.
I notice the surprise and fear in Holly’s eyes. I fucking hate seeing that fear there. John takes a step back. The three men following me surround us, ready for a fight. I flick my gaze to the other two useless fucks who never should have allowed the bastard to get his dirty fucking hands anywhere near Holly. I narrow my eyes in their direction; they’ve just realized their mistake. Good, let the fuckers sweat a bit before I fucking cut their throats out.
“Your wife? Funny thing. When I asked sweet Holly here who she was, she didn’t introduce herself as your wife.” The fucker runs his eyes up and down her body, while visions of gouging those same eyes out invade my mind.
Pushing myself between them, so that Holly is now behind me, I don’t miss a beat. I won’t let this son of a bitch get the best of me. “She wouldn’t have. She’s not stupid; we’re keeping it quiet. We were waiting until after my father’s funeral to make the announcements, but now you’ve gone and messed up our plans.”
“Why wait? If I had a piece of ass as hot as that, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be waiting to let the world know I owned it.”
I know he’s trying to goad me. I get it. But wives and daughters have always been off-limits in our world. No one disrespects the women belonging to a made man. This fucker just showed a huge amount of disrespect to the wife of a Don.And I can’t just let that go. For both personal and professional reasons.
My arm pulls back, and I land a right hook across the fucker’s jaw. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. Before I know it, I’m on top of this motherfucker, laying down punch after punch. I hear Holly scream. I look around to see one of my men holding her back and out of the way. While I’m distracted, John gets the upper hand, flipping us over and bloodying his knuckles against my nose and jaw.
Then he aims for my ribs. I block the best I can in this position. I get my hand around his throat and squeeze. The problem is: I know I can’t kill him. But I sure as fuck can hurt him. I’m about to turn us back over when I hear the unmistakable click of a safety disengage. We both still and look up. My guys have guns aimed at John’s men, while John’s men have guns aimed at Holly. Fuck, Holly… who is currently pointing the hot end of a barrel at John’s head.
How the fuck did she get that? Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to get her over her fear of guns?
“Fuck, dolcezza, put the gun down,” I tell her in a calm voice.
“Oh, don’t worry, I plan to. Right after this asshole gets the fuck off you,” she seethes.
“What the fuck are you all waiting for? Shoot the bitch,” John yells at his men—all of whom look from him, to me, to Holly. No one knows what to do. They may follow his orders, but there are rules in our world. And his own men aren’t ready to break them, even at his behest.
