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And…
His brother, Gabriel Riccardo Giordano.
As all light faded from my periphery of vision, a strange image popped into my mind. A man carrying me, protecting me from an explosion. His face hovering over me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
His carved features and piercing eyes, the two-day stubble that added to his sensuality, and a well-defined jaw.
The man who’d brought me a Danish.
The man who’d purchased beautiful things.
The man who’d flown me on a private jet to an incredible cabin.
My lover.
My master.
And the man who’d told me he owned me.
As another series of strange sensations trickled down my spine, the door was opened, drawing my attention.
Everything remaining in slow motion, I turned my head, blinking as a nurse walked into the room. But before the door closed, I noticed the man from before standing in the corridor.
There was no doubt he was waiting for me.
To take me to Gabriel.
In order to fulfill a promise made.
* * *
Gabriel
Family.
I’d thought more about family since the Brotherhood meeting than I had in a long time. I stared at the ring on my finger, fisting my hand after doing so. It felt good to have one of my own. Luciano had been seven years older, enough so that I’d been the damn bothersome kid brother trying to tag along. When he’d left for college, I’d buried myself in my education, never athletic enough or a bully like my brother.
Luciano had graduated college, two years later he’d acquired a master’s degree. By the time he was summoned home to work with our father, we were different people. He was more polished, yet darker than he’d been, boasting about the posse he’d formed at the university. The smaller facility catered to kids from the rich and famous, including sons and daughters of politicians and crime syndicates. The place at been explosive, at least according to Luciano.
But he and his group of vicious boys had taken full control, using their early training to become monsters against all those who dared cross their paths. Pops had never intended for me to attend the same university, considering it a waste of time.
Now I wondered if I would have turned out differently.
My attention drifted to my other hand and I wondered if the cut would leave a scar. My brother had called them battle wounds. I had several others, most received before I’d graduated high school where I’d grown six inches and gained eighty pounds of muscle.
I made the turn, heading toward the club when my phone rang. The caller wasn’t who I’d expected. Maria. My sister almost never called. The fact she’d remained in New York, taking a modeling gig close to home had helped my mother in her grief. While my mother was a strong person, as she’d told me more than once, a child should never go before his or her parents. Since Luciano’s death, she’d tried to get me to stop by more often, which I had yet to do.
It always turned out the same, my father telling me everything I was doing wrong. Then as he sucked down more liquor, the conversation always managed to turn nasty. Now that I’d broken the handshake agreement that had been tentatively set in place regarding Theodora and Nico, I was certain my father was livid that I’d overridden one of his decisions. That wouldn’t bode well for family get-togethers.
“Maria. What can I do for you?”
“You have no idea what you did. Why? Why the fuck do you have to stick your nose into everything? Why?”
I’d never heard her so upset, her use of language surprising me. She was the demure one, Theodora rough and tumble. “What are you talking about?”
“You had to make things worse for Theodora. Didn’t you? You just had to do it!”
She was borderline hysterical. “Calm the fuck down. What is going on?”
