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“I doubt he’d want to. Victor keeps his motivations to himself, but here’s what I do know: he wants power, and he’ll do anything to get it. He’s not going to dump everything just to run away to Mexico with us.” Too bad, really, because that’s not a bad fantasy either. I could see all four of us sitting under the hot sun at a nice beach in Yucatan. Saint can rub sunscreen into Lucia’s skin. She’d be wearing a teeny tiny bikini that Victor picked out, I’m sure. I could attempt to teach her to surf, and maybe her bikini would somehow disappear in the current…
Not that I want to go on vacation with any of them right now.
“Yeah, not gonna work,” I conclude. “Guess you’re stuck marrying Pavone.”
“No,” she says sharply, as though she’s just made this decision and she’s going to stick with it no matter what. “I’m not going to marry him. I’m going to get away, and you’re going to help me.”
“I am, huh?” I grin at her.
“Yes,” she insists. “Even if it means handing the city over to Victor so we can leave undisturbed.”
Her statement stuns me in its certainty. It’s also the first plan that sounds viable.
“You’d need to kill more than just Pavone and Rossi for that,” I tell her. “He’s got a large organization, and he’s already moved a bunch of capos into the city to take control of your father’s operations. That’s not going to happen before your wedding, Princess. That hasn’t happened in the past seven years.”
“Then maybe Victor needs to get off his ass and actually do something other than plot behind a desk,” she says testily. “Maybe if we can hand him Pavone and Rossi, he can do something about the rest of them. If he wants that power badly enough, then we give it to him.”
Lucia expects me to agree. She’s trying to sell me on this fantasy of hers, where the only obstacle is Pavone.
She thinks that I’m a done deal.
“No,” I say flatly. “I’m not doing anything for Victor.”
“It’s not for Victor. It’s for us. He just gets to do the work for us,” she insists. “Come on, Angelo. You don’t want to play lackey to Pavone for the rest of your life either.”
“But playing lackey toyouis better?” I ask, shaking my head. “And what ‘us’? You’ve made it clear what you think of me, Princess. Saint’s the deluded one, not me.”
“I’d rather you than Pavone or… or Victor any day,” she says earnestly. “I’ll do anything you want, if you help get me and my family away from Pavone.”
I look around the empty dining room and note the closed doors. Then I stand up and grab Lucia’s wrist. She hisses sharply as I drag her off the chair and throw her onto the ground. Before she can get up, I get on the floor with her and straddle her hips, bringing the length of my arm across her neck. Her body goes perfectly still as she looks up at me with wide eyes.
“I’m not your dog, Lucia,” I whisper against her ear. “You think you can offer me a bit of sex and I’ll obey? You think I won’t notice how you’re playing me? Well, fuck off. I’m not helping Victor.”
“I’m not offering you a bit of sex,” she mumbles. “I’m offering you everything, Angelo. Everything I have to give. Not for you to obey, but for you to rescue me.”
“And you’ll run off as soon as you get what you want,” I answer, pushing my arm down to constrict her breath for a few seconds.
She gasps when I ease up. “No,” she says, breathing hard beneath me, looking fragile and frail and like everything I know she’s not. “I won’t run. Not from you.”
“You already did.” I trail my other hand along the side of her body. “Played me and Saint. If you didn’t stick around for Saint, you’re not going to stick around for me.”
“I didn’t know how good I had it,” she insists. “Every time I close my eyes, I think of the three of you.” She wraps her arms around me. “I was just afraid you were destroying me, but I know now… I know I’m stronger…”
I want to believe her. It’d be nice, having her in my arms again. But I’m not stupid, and I know that she has plenty of reason to hate us.
I abruptly get up and leave her alone on the floor. She furrows her brows at me, probably confused at my sudden distance.
“The only thing I know, Princess, is that I can’t trust any of you. Pavone’s a given. You played me. Saint’s too straight to touch me anymore. And Victor—well, maybe he’s the real reason Nico died.” I shake my head. “I’m starting to think I should leave all of you behind. It’d be a lot easier for me. I got my revenge, and there’s no reason for me not to retire from this life. Maybe I can even spend more time with my nephew.”
Very real fear flashes through her eyes as she sits up. “Please don’t leave me here with him,” she whispers, and there are tears in her eyes.
I hate that I’m moved by her begging. I should take a page out of Victor’s book and become completely emotionless. But no matter how much I want to pick her up and kiss those tears—and make her cry harder—I need to start thinking of myself, too.
“Please, Angelo,” she says, standing up. “Even if you don’t want to do it for me, and I get that, I really do, just think about it. Nico fought so hard against my father. Do you really think he’d want his city overrun by Pavone and his goons?”
I can’t believe she’d bring up Nico’s name. I feel a flash of anger that she’s invoking him to manipulate me, but I don’t do anything as she walks over to me and brings an arm around to stroke my back, right where I’ve got the tattoo honoring Nico.
“Do you really want the Rosa di Sangue to die here? Because we both know Victor can’t handle it on his own. Pavonewillwin. And he’s not going to let you leave to live in peace, either. He’s going to find your nephew and Nico’s widow and do whatever it takes to keep you in line.”
