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I ignored him, forcing myself to look into Frankie’s eyes—the same earthy brown as mine. His were harder somehow. More weathered and severe. But I could see the trace of sincerity there as he looked at me.
“You know her loyalties aren’t my main concern here,” Frankie said, his voice low.
I did know that. “There’s nothing between us. There hasn’t been for a long time.” Sierra had had years now to live her life away from my family and me, and it was only like that because I forced her to stay away. I allowed her freedom from the danger of my world. I protected her. But it wasn’t my job to protect her anymore—not when she was the one who put herself in a dangerous situation.
I couldn’t help but clench my jaw at the thought. I’d gone through too much shit to keep her out of this. I could have gotten out of this life years ago, but I stayed to keep her safe. My mind flashed back to the four days of torture I’d endured at the hands of my father and his men. I’d told him I wanted out of this life—that I wanted to move away and never hear from him again. To my surprise, Dad had agreed, but under one brutal, heinous condition. If I could endure five days of torture without conceding, he’d let me go. If I conceded, though, I’d be branded with the Bonanno symbol across my chest and forced to live the rest of my life in thisborgata.
I could have done it. I made it through four days, and on the morning of my fifth day, I finally saw the light. My father had enough sons that when I left, it wouldn’t matter. He reminded us of that regularly. I knew he’d let me go. He was cruel and horrible, but more than that, he was a man of his word. I was so close to getting out, but somehow he knew about Sierra. He knew I wanted out so I could go to her without the risks of bringing her into this world, and when he said he would bring her before me and torture her for my remaining day, I had no choice but to stay.
I subconsciously rubbed the raised scar across my chest and took a deep breath. “It’s the best shot we have of gathering intel on the Luccheses. We’d be fools not to take it.” Frankie stared at where I’d rubbed my chest. He knew about the brand, but not how it had come to be. Everything I did was for my brothers. If bringing Sierra into this situation was necessary to keep them safe, I would do it. Even if that meant losing Hunter as a friend and forfeiting Sierra’s freedom, it was a sacrifice I’d have to make.
2
SIERRA
Imposter syndrome is a real thing, and as I strode out of the Lucchese house—the Lucchesemansion—it hit me squarely in the chest. I knew I’d spent four years working myself ragged after graduating college with a degree in interior design, but to get a half-million-dollar gig with this reputable family felt impossible. I strode down the winding walkway and toward the parking garage across the street where I’d left my old Kia. I’d never taken on a project this large before. I’d neverearneda project this large before, and I felt as if I was floating through the street as I moved toward the entrance of the garage. Hard work did pay off, and I sure did a lot of that to get where I am today.
I reached the door to the garage and went to swipe the key card Virgil Lucchese had made for me to access the personal level. I had a similar key card to access different sections of the house. I fondled it in my hand, focusing on the part of the card with the chip that would need to be inserted. I found myself so caught up in my thoughts that the car peeling up behind me hardly fazed me. It was a busy street, and cars regularly squealed to a stop, narrowly avoiding accidents.
It wasn’t until the sounds of a door opening and feet hitting the pavement that I turned my head. But by then it was already too late. Someone wrapped their arms around my middle, pinning both of my arms to my sides and lifting my feet from the ground. He had to be nearly a foot taller than me, based on how effortlessly he lifted me with one arm and covered my mouth with the other.
My scream died behind his hand, and panic set in as I thrashed and kicked. Adrenaline fueled every ounce of my body, and I tried to assess any possible way out of this situation. Panic clouded my logic as my mind flashed back to being held like this before—being taken against my will and forced into someone’s vehicle. That time, I hadn’t been able to fight. This time I wasn’t drugged, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let this go any further.
Kick. Bite. Do whatever you have to do to get away,I told myself, thrashing like a wild animal. But no matter how I moved, the man behind me kept ahold of me and slid into the van with me in tow. I saw stars as panic consumed me. Not again. I couldn’t go through this again. I swore I would never feel weak like that night again, but there was nothing I could do to stop it now.
The man moved us into the SUV, sliding across the seats until my extended legs were completely encompassed inside. Someone else closed the door.
My chest deflated as I sat in this man’s lap and knew it was too late.
I’d never felt such a sense of undiluted fear, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to escape this situation. I forced my chest to continue rising and falling with breaths, though I wondered if I’d hyperventilate from the fear.
“Calm down,” a voice said firmly in my ear. I stiffened, suddenly conscious of the hard, muscled body cradling me to his chest. “Fucking Christ,tesora.” I knew that voice, and I knew that nickname, basically the Italian version of “sweetheart.” That damn word still managed to send shivers down my spine and butterflies through my stomach, even after all these years apart. I turned in his loosened grasp as the driver’s door to the van opened and another familiar form slipped inside, putting it in drive and taking off immediately. Frankie Bonanno. And holding me in his arms, leaning against the opposite door of the SUV, sat Carlo Bonanno, my brother’s best friend. The man who’d once loved me, swore he’d come back for me, and never did. The asshole was responsible for everything that had gone wrong in my life. And here I was, sitting on his lap.
I jerked away from him promptly, settling in the seat furthest from him as I curled my nose up in disgust. “What the hell are you doing here?” I shouted at him, balling my fists as I considered hitting him. “You could’ve gotten my attention in a thousand other ways than by pulling me into a goddamned car like a terrorist.” I still panted through the residual panic. “Don’t youeverdo that again. Do you hear me?”
The reminder of the last time I’d been dragged into a car without consent hammered at the back of my mind, threatening to consume me wholly. It took everything in me to push those memories away.Deep breaths, Sierra,I internally chanted to myself, counting the seconds of my inhales and exhales as I straightened fully and shot daggers at Carlo. “What do you want?” I finally asked, the edges of panic still riling my voice, but not nearly as intensely as it had moments before.
I saw Frankie’s shoulders shaking slightly and I shot him a glare through the center mirror. “What the fuck happened to you?” Carlo asked, his voice darker than I’d ever heard it. I shot my gaze back at him. The promised danger in his eyes sent chills down my back, but I ignored the feeling. I caught the direction of his gaze—the direction that many men had aimed their gazes over the last five years. Their words echoed in my mind.
You’d be pretty if it weren’t for the scar.
It’s a shame you have that thing on your face. You could have been so beautiful.
Sorry, I can’t stop staring at it. What happened?
I’d heard it all, yet I hadn’t let myself be near Carlo, because I couldn’t even consider hearing him say something similar. It shouldn’t have mattered. By never coming back for me, he made his interests clear. “Why am I here?” I again asked, instead of replying to his anger-fueled question.
“We need your help,” he said emotionlessly, leaning back in his seat. He tilted his head as he looked down at me, but I only assessed him warily.
“That’s unfortunate,” I replied.
“You’re going to help us,” Frankie said from the front seat.
I glanced back at where Frankie sat and scowled at him. “I haven’t heard from you recently either, Frankie,” I said. He may not have been my brother’s best friend, but they were both our neighbors, and I’d had conversations with each of them.
“You haven’t been around.”
He had a point, and I couldn’t blame Frankie for being uninterested. I’d been nothing more than a neighbor to him. It was Carlo whom I hated. If he’d been there like he’d promised, I would never have gotten this scar, or the trauma of a night gone horribly wrong. Maybe if I helped them with whatever they needed, they’d let me go on my way and then vanish again.
