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VINCENT COLOMBO
It had been a through-and-through shot, and with a few stitches, the wound had been tended to easily enough. The bruises, on the other hand, felt impossible to ignore. Doc, one of the orphans who had paid his debt by coming back and tending to the injured mafia in the ICU, had given me some X-rays to make sure nothing else was broken, and then he sent me on my way. I pressed a pack of ice to the most painful places on my ribs as I lay back on my bed, forcing my mind to stay on the most important parts of the day.
Pete Genovese had been killed in a long, painful way.
Alessio had been brought to the funeral home, and his final arrangements would be made tomorrow.
Everyone else was alive and well, and we had an appointment with the Commission to disentangle all the lies the Genovese had woven over the years. Mia would be the chairperson to represent her father’s estate and assets until they appointed someone else to control what he’d built.
Caterina would monitor the Commission closely to ensure no more lies were told. I knew there would be attempts, but I trusted she’d handle them. Still, so much felt out of line and unsettled. I felt like I hadn’t avenged my family in the way they deserved. I hadn’tprotectedmy family.
A small, timid knock came at my door, and I instinctively knew who stood on the other side. “Come in,” I shouted.
The door eased open, and Mia strode inside, biting her lip as she clung to the wood of the door as if it was an anchor to her sanity. “How are you doing?” she asked, pausing and shaking her head. “Actually, that’s a dumb question. How are your injuries?” I shrugged and said nothing. “You haven’t showered yet.” I wasn’t going to tell her that the thought of showering tonight felt like something I couldn’t accomplish. I’d been just like this when Alessio had been alive. I…I couldn’t wipe it away. It felt like it was the last part of him I had, though I knew how stupid that sounded.
She sighed and closed the door, moving through the room as if it were hers. She gathered my trashcan, emptying it on the floor and filling it with soapy water in the same way as I’d done for her a mere week ago. I furrowed my brows as she grabbed a washcloth and approached. “I’m going to at least clean off some of the blood and dirt that’s on your face and arms while we talk.” I let her approach and sit on the side of the bed. “We haven’t really had a chance to address anything that happened.”
“There isn’t a lot to address.”
“Thereisa lot,” she insisted. “I want you to know that when I swore myself to you, it was because I had made up my mind before that to stop working for my dad. It took me a while to realize that you were a good person, but when I did, I stopped. I sent him a message a week and a half ago officially saying I no longer worked for him, but I’d made up my mind long before that.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do,” she pressed. “I didn’t know anything about you or your people. I didn’t know how much love is in this house, which changed everything. Even if you don’t trust me or want me here anymore, I’ll always stand with you.”
I looked up at her as she dabbed away some of the dirt from my arms and the blood from my face, making the water grimy. Her betrayal had been the least of my concerns. In fact, it hadn’t taken more than a few minutes outside of the basement to realize that I couldn’t hold it against her. I understood why she’d believed what she had, and I couldn’t fault her for it. “Mia, I know you’re loyal,” I told her.
Her hands paused on my arm. “You do?”
“You stepped in front of me because you planned to take a bullet for me,” I reminded her. “There isn’t anything more loyal than that.”
“Youdidtake a bullet for me,” she reminded, me, glancing down at my calf. She finally dropped the rag in the bucket and pushed it aside. She moved a little closer to me and placed a gentle hand on my arm. Heat spiked through me at the touch, and I pursed my lips. “I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you,” she told me. “You didn’t deserve anything he did to you, and I’m happy we finally took care of him.”
“He was your father,” I reminded her.
She scoffed. “I have no part of that man’s hatred and cowardice inside of me. I’ll never claim any part of him. I’m loyal to you and only to you. I was going to kill you because of the cruel stories my father told me when I thought he loved me. He said you were horrendous and murderous—that you cared only about power.” She shook her head. “He said you recruit any trash off the streets so you’d have enough manpower to take down the other families. It was why I believed Italian descent was so important, and it was the reason I argued with you about that. I didn’t realize what you were doing was so good.”
I didn’t need to hear more about it. I grabbed her wrist, and despite the pain, I flipped her beneath me, careful to avoid any pressure on my leg. “I don’t want to talk about your father right now,” I told her. She gaped up at me, looking me over as if I were too frail to move unassisted. “I don’t want to talk about him or any of the things he did. Those are things I’d rather discuss tomorrow. Right now, I just want you.”
“Me?” she asked. “You still…you still want me?”
I couldn’t stop the hoarse laugh that exploded from me. “Mia, Ineedyou,” I told her. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to be here with me right now.”
“I’m a Genovese, and they did so much to you.”
I shook my head. “Legally, you’re a Colombo now. We’re married, and I thought it would be amusing to spite your father in that way, too. You’re my goddamned queen, Mia Colombo.”
She leaned up and brought her lips over mine with a wild smile. “Queen of the underworld,” she mused. “I like the sound of that.”
I brought my lips down on hers hard, and she moaned beneath me, showing me precisely how much my touch affected her. She couldn’t have possibly faked this reaction. I didn’t know how I’d convinced myself of that in the basement of her father’s estate. She pressed her hands into my shoulders and arched her entire body up to meet mine, and I knew that what she felt for me was real. Nothing other than us mattered right now.
“Let me,” she said, pressing so lightly on my chest that I hardly felt the pressure, despite how every part of me had been bruised to hell. I pulled away slightly and allowed myself to lay on my back as she hovered above me, sliding off her pants and shirt. She bared herself to me, resting most of her weight on her legs rather than my body.
“Stunning,” I breathed as I looked up at her. All that smooth bare skin took my breath away.
She traced a finger across one of the tattoos on my chest, so gentle that I felt only warm and tingly beneath her touch. “Do any of them mean anything?” she asked briefly, the finger swirling alongside the ink.
I pointed to where I knew one of the symbols rested on my chest. “It’s the Chinese symbol for strength,” I moved my finger to the next. “Protection.” I lingered my hand over the last. “And family.”
