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Sylvester shook his head before picking up his glass and taking another long sip. I expected his no. A big fucking N-O. I figured he might even pull that pistol on me to really hammer the point home. I wouldnevermarry his daughter.
“I don’t want you marrying my daughter,” Sylvester said. “Ireallydon’t want my daughter marrying you. She deserves the stars and the moon, not the small world you’d give her.”
I knew it. I knew he would say no. “Her world is only small because I can’t let her into more of it. I can’t bring a Silvani into that part of my world. But I can bring a Viglione. I could give her the whole goddamn galaxy if she takes my name.”
“How does that work for us? As families? Bringing the rival into your bed doesn’t make them your ally in business. We all know that.”
“Gia has never been my enemy, and I’ve never been yours. Shit, I shot my father to saveyou. I betrayed my family foryou.For her.” I shook my head. I actually called that sack of shit my father. “The hate for your family died with Silvio.”
Sylvester rubbed his chin. “I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t like this one fucking bit. I hate it, actually.” He raised the tone of his voice as he stood. “I want Gia to marry someone I respect.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I started to stand, ready to leave with the denial I expected.
“I respect you, Enzo.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. Silvio had never said he respected me. In fact, he often told me how much he didn’t. Hearing those words coming out of Sylvester’s mouth made me feel a tinge of something that made my ribs ache.
“I give you my blessing.”
I couldn’t believe it. I wondered if I was dreaming, still asleep with my arm around Gia, longing for something I could never have. I dug my fingers into the palm of my hand to make sure I was awake. I was. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to act like a fool in front of him, even though excitement coursed through me. It felt like I had just secured the biggest deal of my life, and actually, I think I had.
I stood and reached my hand out to him, a symbol of truce. After he shook my hand, I turned to walk away, taking several steps before his voice interrupted my exit.
“Before you go,” he said, “the Irish didn’t kill Bullseye, did they?”
I tightened my lips. When my gaze fell, he knew. He had to know. He now had the secret he could dangle over me for the rest of my life. The secret that I killed Jameson over, which caused all the fuckery that followed. The secret that could get my ass put six feet under.
Sylvester picked up his glass, took a sip, and raised it toward me. He tipped his head with a smile. I had no choice but to trust him, but I hated giving that power to anyone. And now, the entire Silvani family had it.
I left his office. Part of me wanted to go tell Gia about her father’s blessing. I fought that urge because I wanted even more to tell her while inside her. In the throes of her orgasm, I’d tell her she would be my goddamn wife. That she was mine.
ChapterThirty
Gia
Iparked my car in front of Enzo’s house because I couldn’t figure out how to get into the goddamn garage. The code he gave me didn’t work, or I got the numbers mixed up, which was entirely possible. I had such brain fog since the shootout. I blamed the animal tranquilizer. Enzo had left before me and told me to carry my pistol on my hip when I came, which was suspicious. I dragged my fingers across the cool metal. A tinge of pain made me hope I didn’t have a reason to draw and shoot, but I would if I had to. I hardly noticed the ache in my arm any longer. For an animal doctor, he’d patched me up real well. As the fibrous tissue replaced the once perfect skin on my shoulder, I knew I’d carry that memory with me forever, etched into my flesh.
When I walked into Enzo’s home, everything was still. He’d been staying with me on and off, trying to avoid his brother. I racked my brain for some reason why Marco had met with the man who abducted Enzo, but I had nothing. To my knowledge, they had no business with the Irish before. Atheist released a low whine as I closed the door behind me.
“Where’s your dad?” I asked as I rubbed his head. “He told me he’d be here.”
The sound of my heels on the marble floor carried through the space, so I took them off and walked barefoot instead, listening for any sound of life. The thick, heavy air ignited the sixth sense I inherited from growing up beneath a don. I felt the seismic waves of violence before I heard the shouts from behind the big wooden doors.
I quickened my steps and tried the door the moment I reached it. It was locked.For fuck’s sake.I knocked, and the sound roared down the hall. Instead of an answer, something crashed inside.Fuck it, I thought as I tugged a bobby pin from my hair. I kneeled and tried to remember how to pick locks. I learned how when my father got me a lockpicking kit for my tenth birthday. Not the most age-appropriate gift, but if it worked, it worked. I bent the bobby pin and got to work on the lock. Once it clicked open, I abandoned my shoes by the door and walked inside.
Sammy was tied up in a computer chair against the wall. “Enzo, stop!” he called out. The tips of his fingers dripped blood onto his lap.
My eyes grew wider, and my mouth gaped at the sight. Enzo had Marco pinned beneath him. Marco wasn’t even conscious any longer, yet Enzo continued hitting his blood-soaked face. Hitting a man who was too close to death to fight back created a hollow, disturbing sound. I put my finger to my mouth as I walked by Sammy. He groaned but stopped yelling out.
“Enzo!” I called out.
But he was gone, somewhere else entirely, somewhere that was only a shade of red. I reached for his shoulder, and he flung himself back, knocking into me. I fell back against the desk.
“Sammy—” he snapped as he turned around with bloody fists. He blinked at me, as if he was being pulled back from that place full of anger. When he realized it was me, he sobered. “Gia,” he said over the heavy rise and fall of his chest. He shook out his hand as he stepped toward me.
I didn’t step back. I wasn’t afraid of him, even when he wasn’t being himself. I knew there was a part of Enzo that made him the perfect Viglione.
Violent.
