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“She was really upset by what you did.”
I tried to explain to Marco how worried I was about Jessica, but he didn’t want to hear it and warned me to keep quiet. “I’m about five seconds from completely losing it with you, Juliana. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up.”
Warily, I gazed out into the bleak darkness of the night. I was expecting a long drive back from L.A. to Chicago, so I was surprised when Marco pulled into an airfield. I looked at him.
“I’ve got a jet on standby. We’ll fly home. It’s late and I’ve had enough for today.”
At least we would get home more quickly.
“Get out,” he ordered, as he cut the engine and moved to exit the car.
He obviously wasn’t going to open my car door for me.Such a gentleman.But then given his current mood, I should have been glad that he hadn’t automatically put a bullet through my head.
We boarded the private jet and Marco pushed me into a seat. He didn’t sit near me; instead, he took a seat as far away from me as possible. About ten minutes later, Alessio also joined us on the jet. Alessio must have come to L.A. with Marco.
As the plane took off, I was reminded of the last time I was on a plane. That time Marco had also been dragging me to Chicago.
But things were different now. They were different because I loved Marco.
I don’t know when exactly the realization had hit me, but what had begun as a man kidnapping me had somehow led to me falling in love with him.
I still couldn’t understand what had happened between us since the day he’d taken me from the church and forced me to go to Chicago with him.
He was a Made Man and a killer, but over the last few weeks he had shown me a different side to him. It was a side that was unexpected: it was caring and protective.
This was a man who would lay down his life for those he loved. He had taken care of his siblings since the death of his parents, looking out for them and loving them. They were his world and he protected them with a fierceness that was almost scary—just like he had been trying to protect me from my cruel father and dysfunctional mother.
Being back in L.A. had made me see how wrong I’d been about my parents. Sure, they had arranged my marriage to a cruel Capo, but such marriages were a normal way of Mafia life. What wasn’t normal, though, was using your child to set a trap for your enemy—letting your soldiers fire their weapons around your family and endangering them, and even shooting them like my sister had been shot.
Jess had been shot by a Società bullet: it may have not been deliberate, but my father knew the danger he was placing us all in when he and Emanuel came up with their messed-up plan. At least Marco had let me know how Jess was after she’d been shot. I doubted my father had even cared, given his comments regarding it when I’d been back in L.A.
I couldn’t stop thinking about my father’s words and they kept replaying in my mind. He thought I was a slut and a whore. There was no concern for what I had been through as a result of the kidnapping and its aftermath. My mother hadn’t even been glad to see me back. I knew I should be angry at them both. What I really felt, though, was a deep hurt that I mattered so little to my parents.
After the last forty-eight hours, my body ached with exhaustion. As I sunk further back into my seat, I looked across at Marco and let my gaze linger.
I don’t know when it had happened, but somewhere along this twisted journey I had fallen in love.
MARCO
It took four hours to fly back to Chicago. I didn’t talk to Juliana and barely looked at her. I didn’t want to see her, touch her, or smell her sweet jasmine scent.
When we landed in Chicago, cars were waiting for us. I tugged Juliana toward them, walking fast so that she had to hurry to keep up with me. We took one SUV while Alessio went in the other waiting vehicle.
It was a short drive back to the Marchiano estate. During the drive, however, exhaustion overcame Juliana and she fell asleep, her head resting against the seat and her full lips slightly parted. She’d had a long couple of days, and it was very late now.
I was furious with her, but added to my fury was a twisted thrill that I had her back. I couldn’t believe that she went crawling back to the Società, back to Gabriel Santino.
I wondered if she’d thought about him when I’d penetrated her perfect little pussy, stretching it around my cock and driving into it relentlessly until I felt her tight channel clenching in orgasm around me. She was mine. And her pussy was mine—mine alone.
When we arrived back at our estate, I turned off the ignition, but Juliana didn’t stir. I decided not to wake her. I scooped up her body into my arms and carried her upstairs to our bedroom.
I felt the smooth skin of her arm as it fell against my hand which was holding her. This was her home now, not L.A. and not the Società. It felt so right to have her back in my arms, back in my possession.
In the bedroom, I put her down onto the bed and pulled the sheets and comforter around her. I ran the back of my knuckles against her soft cheek which was tinged pink with sleep.
The gentleness of my caress was in direct opposition to the wrath I felt after what she had done, after who she had turned to and who she had tried to save: Gabriel Santino.
Taking one last look at her, I left the room and turned off the light.
