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I let go of her hand to hold her neck instead. My grip wasn’t gentle, but now that we had a minute alone, I wanted to feel her heartbeat underneath my palm, to feel the way her body heated with life and the way she was safe before me. My thumb ran over her lips, pressing down and watching as they turned a deep red.
I clenched her jaw tighter, and her eyes widened before I pulled her arm toward me, and her body followed. I didn’t let go of my grasp until I felt her quick breathing running over my lips as her mouth parted.
“I’ve never been so scared of losing someone,” I admitted to her shining dark eyes before pressing her lips to mine deeply to assure she’s here, with me, alive.
“So was I,” she whispered through our kiss, then pulled away to rest her forehead against mine. She straightened and began cleaning the wound in silence while I got the right materials for the stitches.
“Can you answer a question?” she asked with her eyes focusing on what her hands were doing.
“Depends.”
“How are you all related?” That was an easy answer. “You all look so different.”
As she finished cleaning, I took a second to think of my next words, and busied myself, withdrawing the needle closer to my skin to begin the few stitches I needed.
“Sometimes, bonds grow deeper than blood. Bonds of honor, loyalty, and respect that with time, differences are not seen, all there is, is family.” Her lashes fluttered with eyes that gave me their full attention. I grimaced with the stabbing pain and sensitivity of the wound as I pierced through the angry skin, and continued talking to think of anything other than the way I wanted to scream from the pain.
“I was too young to remember the day I was placed in a home for boys. But Viktor was by my side. Our mother overdosed after taking one too many beatings from my father. We don’t know what happened to him, and I don’t care to find out. I remember one day at the home for boys, I wet the bed. Victor stood up for me.” I chuckled dryly, remembering the time I was scared of my own shadow. “It grew to a fight with the other boys, and all of a sudden, everything stilled and Arlo and Lucca walked into the main bedroom.” I wished I could remember that day clearly, but only obscured scenes my mind had captured played out. “Even then, they walked around with power, and everyone could see it. No one could tell them anything. Even the adults let them do as they wished. So, when they stopped the fight and told us to come with them to their smaller grouped room, we followed them. The rest was history, and we became inseparable. They all had a part in me growing up, and by the time, I was six. When Lucca left, things began to change once again and we were not ones to mess with.” I drew a deep breath as I inched closer to the last two stitches left, and continued through my teeth, “We didn’t see much of Lucca after, then Arlo left, and he too distanced himself. But they weren’t just being distanced, Lucca was already thinking of the future for us four.”
“What future?” Davina whispered.
“One with people he trusts in the law, as he was molded into a life before creating an empire.”
The door ripped open as I finished the last stitch. Lucca walked in with purpose and murder in his eyes, jaw locked as he took in my presence.
“Are you done bleeding in my chair?” His voice was controlled, but his stance and the way he walked over to the bar said more about his wild thoughts than his tone. He poured two fingers of amber liquid into a crystal cut glass before downing his drink and pouring a second. When he turned, his eyes looked over Davina. “And why the fuck is a woman in here?”
DAVINA
The blood in my body drained as a man walked into the room dressed in a full black suit, filled with power and poise with each step he took deeper into the space. Tattoos covered his neck and hands all the way down to his fingers. His dark eyes looked over Ilias with violence before harshly taking a drink.
Arlo and Viktor stood in each corner in the back of the room, and my heart beat brutally inside when my mind registered who Lucca was. It was impossible not to. The way he moved with authority, the way the room seemed to quiet with his presence and the same eerie way he carried himself reminded me of the night I’d met Tattoo.
Lucca was a mafioso––they all were––but he was the head of them all. And I stood in his home, inside his study. In his presence.
Like Tattoo, Lucca had the same Italian appearance.
“And why the fuck is a woman in here?”
My eyes grew when his cold eyes watched and acknowledged me as if I were a pebble under his feet. I tried to straighten my posture, but it was useless not to show my fear because with him around, all I could envision was the men that had invaded my nightmares and the ones I’d been hiding from.
“Well?” Lucca raised his brow, waiting.
Ilias shuffled in his seat, ready to speak, but I cleared my throat. Even if dread chilled my bones, and fear pricked my fingertips, I was tired of being pushed to the side. And if I were to die, I could at least have a voice. I was a woman in the middle of a man’s world, but damn if I was going to be weak in front of their eyes.
“I’m Davina Cohen.” It took them all by surprise. It was the first time Ilias heard my full name
“You’re from New York,” Lucca said without a question.
“Yes.”
“And who sent you?”
That took me by surprise. “Sent me?”
“The time for games is over. Start speaking,” Lucca demanded with a cold voice, but it held so much more. A threat. “You think I’ll believe it was all a coincidence? How you just happen to be led straight to my brother?”
“Lucca, she’s not—”
