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A powerful hit to my chin makes my head snap to the side. I take a step back and shake my head, trying to rid myself of the ringing sound in my ears. I thought that son of a bitch was right-handed.
Arturo rounds the breakfast bar and charges at me. I avoid the left hook aimed at my face and bury my elbow into his chest, but then, I end up gasping for air when he knees me in my gut. Straightening, I grab the front of his shirt and slam him against the nearest wall. The back of his head hits one of the large picture frames, which falls and shatters into pieces.
“This discussion should have happened before the marriage certificate was signed, you know.” I spit blood to the side, then throw a punch into his stomach. “But your sister is mine now. And there is nothing you can do about it.”
“If I knew what a sick fuck you are, I never would have let Sienna marry you.”
“I’m no worse than other men in our world. Look at your don. Mailing body parts around as a warning.”
“Yeah. You just nail people to walls and carve crosses into their chests.” Arturo leans forward, his stare burning through me. “Sienna cried for weeks after her dog died. Just imagine what will happen when my sister finds out your little secret. So, I don’t have to do anything other than tell her that small detail, and she’ll run back home.”
“She can run. But I will come for her and get her back.”
“You won’t be getting her back, Drago. Ajello might be ruthless, but he would never force a woman to go back to a man she’s afraid of.”
I wrap my free hand around Arturo’s throat and squeeze. “Then I’ll have to make sure you can’t tell Sienna anything.”
Arturo’s left hand shoots up, grabbing my throat in return. “You can try.”
The bang of a door against a wall as it flies open and the thunder of running feet reverberates through the house. A pair of arms wrap around my waist, pulling me away. I try hitting the man holding me with my elbow, but another seizes my limbs. Arturo launches himself from the wall, rushing at me, but two other guys grab and hold him back.
The Cosa Nostra don walks in and comes to stand in the middle of the room. “Family squabble?” he asks, looking at me, then he shifts his gaze to his underboss.
“Yeah. We can’t agree on where we’ll spend next Christmas. At Arturo’s or my place,” I say.
“Indeed.” The don nods to his men. “Escort Mr. Popov out. They can finish their holiday planning some other time. I need to talk with Arturo.”
I shake off the men holding me and take a step toward the don. “I know about your little spying scheme. That shit stops now, Ajello, or I swear to God, things won’t end well.”
Without waiting for his reply, I turn and head toward the front door. When I reach the threshold, I look over my shoulder and meet Ajello’s eyes. “And if your underboss dares to meddle in my private life, I’ll have to kill him.”
“Sienna loves Arturo. Killing him wouldn’t be healthy for your marriage,” he says. “And Arturo won’t be meddling.”
I nod and step outside.
Ink from a broken pen on one of my favorite shirts. Perfect. I’m hurrying across the foyer to find Keva and ask her for a stain remover when I hear the roar of a bike. I peer out the window overlooking the driveway as a black motorcycle pulls to the side. Once the engine dies, the driver dismounts and removes his helmet. It’s Drago. I had no idea my husband rides a bike.
Drago leaves the helmet on the handle and approaches the front door. A gasp leaves my lips as I stare at the left side of his face. It’s covered in blood. I rush toward the entrance and reach it just as he walks inside.
“Oh my God.” I press my hand over my mouth, staring at the long cut down his left cheek. It’s still oozing.
“Keva!” I yell and take a step forward, reaching my hand toward his chin, but he jerks his head away.
“Are you fucking five?” I snap and try again. “Let me see.”
He doesn’t move this time, and I take his chin between my fingers, turning his face to the side.
“Jesus, Drago.” I sniff, staring at his cheek. The cut is four inches long.
“What’s going . . . Oh my God!” Keva runs up behind me. “Get him to the kitchen, Sienna. Right now.”
Drago takes a step, and my hand falls from his face. I stare at his back as he walks across the foyer, then trot after him.
“Clean him up.” Keva thrusts a kitchen towel and a bowl of warm water into my hands. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.”
I look down at the bowl in my hands, then at my husband as he takes a seat on a chair at the kitchen table.
“Give me that,” he says as he unzips his jacket. The white shirt underneath is covered in blood stains.
