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“How could she have done this?” she wails as snot drips from her nose and tears flood down her cheeks. “My precious girl. How could she kill her brother?”
I do my best to wipe her tears and be someone she can cling to. Words aren’t my fucking forte, but I don’t mind her using me to balance her out and being here in case she needs something until Gabriel is done with Giana.
I did everything I fucking could to get into Gabriel’s office—where he’s held Giana since he got her back home. She was knocked out cold, or maybe she passed out. I’m not sure, but I don’t want her to be alone with him when she wakes up.
It fucking kills me because I know she’s about to pay a high fucking price for shooting our brother…for killing him in defense of Dante DeSantis—a whole other story I have exactly zero answers to right now.
I find resolve in the fact that Gabriel won’t kill her. He can’t. He’s set up a deal with The Blood Syndicate Cartel, and she’s to be married off to the heir, Santiago Martínez. If he kills her, the cartel will kill him in return, and Gabriel is a fucking coward.
He'll do anything that he can to exact his revenge though, and I’d rather be there trying to help her than sitting on my ass right now. If I don’t follow his orders, though, he’ll just make it worse on my sister.
My heart is fucking numb when it comes to Gabriel Jr.—a spitting image in both looks and personality of Gabriel. He’s done nothing but terrorize Giana and fuck up left and right since we were old enough to know that Gabriel isn’t really a jeweler. As far as I’m fucking concerned, the asshole can rot in hell. That’s where we’ll all be eventually, but there’s a special spot for him.
“Your father told me one of our men spoke to Dante DeSantis, and he wants Giana. They want to be together. Can you believe that? Giana deceived our family, Niccolò. She killed your brother! My baby!” Her voice cracks, and she pauses. “We lost seven men tonight in the DeSantis club. Seven!”
Hopefully Enzo’s stupid fucking ass was there, and he was a casualty—Oh, wait. The fucker only goes to my club.
My mother breaks down into another crying fit, and I rub her arm as she sobs uncontrollably against me again.
None of it surprises me.
My sister has balls.
I just wish she would’ve told me. Came to me for help. I could’ve done something to prevent all of this for her.
Suddenly, Gabriel’s heavy footsteps thud against the floorboards, and he rounds the corner into the great room and nearly knocks one of his “servants” over in the process.
“Get out of my fucking way,” he growls at her, and she scurries away.
He’s such a fucking piece of shit.
“Giana is awake. Niccolò, I expect you and Matteo to get her down into the cellar so I can make sure this little problem never happens again.”
9
EVELINA
…A FEW DAYS LATER
Vittoria DeSantis’s home always smells like fresh orchids and freshly baked bread. It’s not a pair you’d think would be anything special, but when the two scents mix, it’s absolutely divine. A feeling rushes over me, one that’s familiar, one that I only get when here, in Romeo and Vittoria’s home.
Safety.
As much as I would love to rip my husband’s balls off, I’ll always be grateful that he brought me into this life—even if I’m not sure what will transpire when everything is said and done. It’s just as annoying a feeling as the rest of the push and pull I’ve been feeling and trying to ignore the past few days.
I need to find a solution to get away from Enzo, but do I really want to leave this life? A life where I finally have at leastsomepeople in my corner. People like Romeo and Vittoria and the few close people I’ve met who are associated with this life.
Because right now, I feel safe. And safe was always a foreign feeling to me. At least since everything happened with my sister and me when we were young.
“Hi, sweetheart!” Vittoria greets me with a warm smile and a tight hug as Enzo and I walk in, and I allow myself to be wrapped in the safety she provides for a few seconds.
This is something I’m going to miss when I no longer settle for Enzo’s shit. These people—Vittoria and Romeo, even their son, Dante, and grandson, Antonio. Leo, the family consigliere. These are the people I’ll miss. The smell of the bread and the fresh flowers and the feeling of being cocooned in safety.
“Mrs. DeSantis,” I address her with a smile of my own as Enzo’s hand brushes against my lower back.
She shushes me, scolds me for my formal use of her name, and laughs as she shakes her head.
“You know better, child,” she says as she glances from me to Enzo, then pulls him in for a hug as well. “Dinner will be served in about thirty minutes, but everyone is already in the great room if you want to hang out for a bit. I’ll have your drinks brought to you.” She pauses only long enough to glance out the glass door as someone else pulls up to the estate. “Whiskey for Enzo and a dry red for my beautiful Evelina.”
