Blood & Marriage (Dark Mafia Romance) (17 page)

I swallowed and stretched my back, trying to stay cool, even
if my voice was higher-pitched than usual. Somehow, despite Vincenzo’s words
being almost soothing, there was a shadow of threat in them as well. “I expect
my father will wish to annul my current marriage on the grounds of Seth’s lies.
Then I will be free to marry whoever you choose, Vincenzo,” I said calmly, but
my heart screamed for him to choose Santo. Maybe this could work. Maybe
Vincenzo would leave me alone.

“I might just choose you myself,” he said and took another
step closer, forcing me into a corner. “But I wanna sample the goods first.
Don’t wanna end up with a wife that can’t keep me happy, if you know what I
mean.” He waggled his eyebrows like the lecher he was.

My cheeks tingled, but with him so close, so threatening, I
could barely come up with new ideas to fend him off anymore. “I don’t think any
of us wants war between our famili—”

He grabbed my neck with his massive hand and squeezed in
warning. “Bitch, you think you’re so smart? You think you’re so important? Wake
up!” he yelled into my face, and no matter how much I wanted to ignore him, I
shivered, slumping against the wall. “You’re just tits and ass under all those
fancy clothes.” He grabbed my breast with his other hand, forcing a thumb
between the buttons of my shirt.

I gasped, shoving at him without thinking. “Stop. You can’t
act like this if you want to become my husband.” My hands shook as I looked
into his emotionless eyes, prepared to be skinned like rabbit for stew.

I yelped when he let go of my breast, and his hand went all
the way up my skirt and between my legs, forcing its way in no matter how hard
I clenched my thighs.

“What about this then? Can I act like this?” Vincenzo’s
breath quickened, and I put my hands on his shoulders but felt as powerless as
never before. He was there, a ruthless presence I couldn’t stop from holding my
neck and teasing me where he should have never even gotten close to in the
first place.

I closed my eyes not to cry, wanting to disappear. That
could be my secret power. Turning into smoke in his hands so that he could
never grab me. Instead, I was a woman made of flesh and bone, and wasn’t strong
enough to fight him, too afraid of the violence he could unleash on me to
scream.

I collected my thoughts, trying not to break down, not in
front of him. “You will whenever you want to once we’re married.”

“Oh, really? That’s a different song than what I’ve been
hearing so far.” Vincenzo gave an animalistic growl and slipped his hand into
my underwear, past the last barrier keeping him away. “You trying to lie to me,
baby girl? Your pussy won’t lie to me. I’ll fuck you so good you’ll be a quivering
mess.”

It was as if the lower part of my body had become disconnected
from the rest of me. I wanted to vomit, but my stomach was so tight as if it
were filled with stones. “I’m Catholic. I cannot flirt with you when I’m still
married to someone else.”

There it was. The thread I’d been grasping at. I got his
attention. Vincenzo cocked his head to the side, but pulled his hand out of my
pants and sucked on his fingers as if assessing me in a new light. The shame of
it all was scorching my cheeks. “So once Seth’s out of the picture, you’ll open
your legs like a good girl?”

I pushed down my skirt, feeling dirty, as if I’d had a
cockroach inside me. I could still feel where Vincenzo’s fingers had been, like
the insect’s nasty black legs. “We could marry right after he’s gone.”

Vincenzo let go of my neck, and I could finally take a deep
breath. Or at least I attempted to, because unclenching my windpipe was a chore
I was not prepared for. He unbuttoned my shirt as if my opinion didn’t matter,
as if I were a sack of flesh for him to fondle. Vincenzo grabbed my breasts
with both hands, and all I could do was sink against the wall, unable to avoid
him.

“I’ll get you bigger titties once we marry. I like to see
them bounce when I fuck a girl.” He had that leering smile, and I didn’t even
feel my body all that well any more. Numb as if I’d bathed in ice.

“Boss? We gotta go. There’s some shit going down,” Emilio
said through the door, knocking loudly.

I forced myself to smile at Vincenzo, but the way he so
casually talked about making permanent changes to my body in order for it to be
more to his taste made me want to disappear. Only I didn’t want to be buried in
the nearest woods, so I did what I should and smiled even wider. “That would be
lovely. My father didn’t want me to do it, but I agree it would improve my looks.”

Seeing Vincenzo’s smile grow with enthusiasm made the food I’d
eaten earlier climb up my throat, but at least he took his hands away from my
breasts and I could button up my shirt. “I knew we’d get along.”

The relief of him walking away was so intense my knees went
soft. Emilio came in once Vincenzo opened the door for him with the buzzer
button.

“We’ve got more men coming for support,” Emilio said, “and I
think we might just get those faggots trapped.”

I kissed my two fingertips and brushed them over Vincenzo’s
cheek. “Good luck out there.”
Go and die a horrible death
.

Vincenzo rubbed his hands together, grinning at Emilio.
“Let’s go deal with this shit.”

I stayed where I was, tucked into the corner until the two
men shut the door, leaving me alone in a room that, for once, seemed to close
around me, as if each piece of furniture was out to get a bite of my flesh.

I rushed to the bathroom and, only with the door closed and
locked, did I dare to pull off my clothes. My hands trembled so badly I dropped
my bag to the floor, but I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone now anyway. I wished
I could’ve cut out the pieces of my skin where Vincenzo’s dirty, rough hands had
touched me.

What if he really was my future?

I was still numb when I sat in a booth at the café with
Paco, the one Villani soldier remaining at the hotel. But while I sipped my
coffee, with my mind aching as if it had gone through a meat grinder, another
weight dropped on me straight from the TV screen hanging over the bar.

“There are reports of several dead, and the police are still
securing the area,” came from the reporter with a heavy local accent. The more
I watched, the colder my fingers got, despite the warm paper cup I held in my palms.
A shooting had occurred at the market where Santo had gone earlier.

The reporter in the field interviewed several witnesses, and
the blood-soaked puzzle pieces of the story were coming together in my mind.

The perpetrators had been shouting in a foreign language.
Someone suggested it was Italian. A chase through the stalls. Injured passers-by.
Several gunmen shot dead by their opponents. A victim left on a meat hook
inside an abattoir.

The death toll had reached seven people, and I shook. Santo
had been in the middle of the shootout, right after the bitter argument that had
shown him what a selfish person I was. He’d been right. I’d never asked him
what
he
wanted and just pushed him, trying to manipulate him with
compliments like I had with Vincenzo earlier today. 

I should have given Santo more credit, I should have been
able to see beyond his handsome smiles and protective nature. Clearly, he had
issues too, but I ignored them, and now he could be in the hospital, heavily
injured.

Oh, God, what if he’s dead?

Paco frowned at the TV, but he barely spoke any English, so
he grunted at me, already texting someone on his phone. “What are they saying?
What do they know?”

I tried to not show how emotionally torn I was and gave him
a brief description of the events. “Maybe you should join them, just in case?”
I asked, even though I knew it was not likely I’d get him to leave me be

He rolled his eyes. “Good one.” But he didn’t laugh. “You’re
not going anywhere on my watch.”

I frowned at him, and it hit me that nobody needed to tell
me that anymore. I knew I was trapped in this hotel, and that I’d stay here
even if Paco were stupid enough to join Vincenzo. Not when Santo was missing
and I didn’t know what had happened to him. Just thinking about him being hurt
made my stomach ache. “Where would I go all alone?”

“Well, not to your fag husband, that’s for sure.” Paco
snorted, looking back up at the TV.

I leaned back. “You think you’re so funny? I bet you’ve
known him your entire life, and yet you haven’t noticed anything odd about him.
That joke is on you.”

“Well, at least I’m not the one who fucked him—” He frowned,
as if realizing his comeback didn’t go the way he’d planned.

I let it sink in, not even bothering to comment. I hoped the
idea of fucking Seth was now as prominent in his mind as if I asked him not to
think of a white elephant.

The bell jingled at the entrance to the cafe, and I looked
up. For a second, I was disappointed when my gaze swept over a tall man dressed
in faded jeans and a black hoodie worn over a simple black top, but then I noticed
at his face, and my whole body relaxed when I recognized Santo. I’d never seen
him dressed this casually.

The moment he spotted us, he walked with a purpose.

I took a deep breath and curled my fingers over the hem of
my hoodie as he approached. I took him in with my eyes, searching for signs of
injury, but he moved just fine.

He was all right.

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, wanting nothing more
than to run up to him and close him in my arms, but I couldn’t. We were being
watched.

“Paco, Vincenzo wants to talk to you, I’ll take over,” Santo
said quietly, and Paco sprung up from the seat.

“Thank fuck, I was dying to take a leak.”

I didn’t want to look at Santo too intensely, but I still
met his eyes, needing to know what happened. But what if he hated me now? What
if he realized I wasn’t the woman he needed at his side? Were we broken up
after the fight we’d had? He’d walked out without even saying goodbye.

Santo sat down in Paco’s place, and I couldn’t help but be
attracted to his casual style just as much as to the elegant suits and
turtlenecks. My gaze drifted to the scar on his neck, and I thought back to
what he’d told me about it. How we could carry scars and not be weakened by
them.

“What happened?” I choked out, still very much aware of
Vincente’s hands on me. Even after a shower, I was disgusted with his touch.
Just like when I’d once made myself coffee and then found a dead spider in the
espresso. I couldn’t drink any coffee for weeks after.

Santo wouldn’t meet my eyes, and it made my anxiety
skyrocket. “They vanished. Acerbi butchered five of our men.”

I slumped in my seat. “Oh, God. What about you? Santo? Are
you fine?” I asked, raising my voice slightly when I noticed how pale he was.
Maybe he had been injured after all and just managed not to show it?

Only now I noticed two long scratches on his jaw. They
weren’t anything to worry about, but I still wanted to kiss them better. My
mind was going frantic, imagining the bruises he could be sporting under the
T-shirt, and another part of my brain wanted to unload about Vincenzo’s assault
on me. To ask for help.

“I don’t know,” he murmured.

I looked at him, baffled. “What do you mean? Are you hurt??”
I asked and quickly pushed my cup toward him in case he wanted something to
drink.

He did take the coffee, but his movements were slow, as if
he were stuck in tar. “I talked to Acerbi.”

“T-talked to him?” I asked, wondering if this was some kind
of men’s slang for having a fight.

Instead of drinking, Santo played with the edge of the cup.
“And I don’t like what he’s told me…” Each sentence was like a chunk of ice I
had to painfully carve out of the block to get more information.

Oh, so it was an actual conversation. It put me at ease, and
I glanced toward the door, to make sure Paco wasn’t coming back yet, before
gently touching his arm. I didn’t know what was going on, but Santo seemed so
drained that my resolve to tell him what Vincenzo did to me earlier was melting
like an Iceberg at the equator. “I’m sorry.”

Santo glanced up at me, seeming much younger than he did in
his suits, and for once I felt like it should be me giving him a hug and
telling him everything would be all right. “I know you can keep a secret,
but…can you really? Can I tell you something that will weigh on you in the
future?”

I looked at him, completely mesmerized by that display of
trust and vulnerability, and I rubbed his hand gently. “I would never betray
you, Santo,” I said, and I meant every word of it. The life ahead of me might
not be a bed of roses, but I could bear it as long as I had Santo.

“He told me my father wants him alive because he… ‘still
loves him’.” Santo’s lips twisted into a scowl. “I…I don’t think he was lying,”
he whispered.

I touched my neck, rolling this information in my head over
and over, but there was no doubt about the meaning behind what Santo told me.
The suggestion itself was obscene, and I wanted to support him even more, in
any way he needed me to. “So...your father...he is gay?”

“I don’t know.” He pulled the coffee close, recoiling from
my touch. “He’s been married for twenty-five years. I always thought my parents
got along, even if they often parted for trips, and stuff like that.” He took a
deep breath. “But maybe it has all been a lie. He might like women as well for
all I know, but I remember Acerbi being such a permanent fixture around our
house when I was just a boy. He must have been fifteen or sixteen. I think I’m
gonna be sick. I need to tell someone about this.” He squeezed the cup so hard
coffee overflowed onto his hand.

I sat as close to him as was safe, wondering what else I
could do for him, but it seemed that no matter how much I wished to help, there
was nothing I could do to relieve his pain. “This secret is safe with me.”

Santo massaged his temples, uncaring about the coffee
dripping on his T-shirt. “I’ve known not to trust everything my father says for
a while now, but this… I don’t even know who he is anymore. I don’t even think
I
want
to know.”

I waited, wondering if he’d say something more, but when he
stayed silent, I asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. But I don’t want to get Acerbi anywhere
near him.” Santo bared his teeth. “He’s manipulating us all for a selfish
needs.”

“While he’s secretly playing against the rules,” I finished
for him.

“He thinks he’s untouchable.” Santo bit on his lips and
finally glanced at me again. “Thank you for listening, even if you’re still
angry with me.”

I licked my lips, surprised. “I thought it was you who was
still angry with me,” I said softly.

Santo sighed and met my eyes. “You are my weakness. You
should know that by now.”

The damn table between us was like a wall I needed to climb,
but even if I’d managed to do just that, I knew I couldn’t do what I truly
wanted—sit in his lap and kiss him until all our troubles melted away.

I swallowed, my body heating up quickly like an electric
kettle filled with honey. “But you are mine, too,” I said, looking into his
eyes. The thick, warm sensation I always felt around him was now making my
whole body feel content. I loved Santo so much, and I’d have done anything to
make him happy. He was flawed, but so was I.

“You are the only honest thing in my life,” he whispered.

Not being able to hold his hand was agony. “You are the best
thing in mine.”

We exchanged a small smile, but the bell at the door jingled
again, and I leaned back against the seat, attempting to be as invisible as
possible when Vincenzo approached through the café.

He was heaving, and there was dampness at the front of his
shirt despite it being quite cold. He slapped his palms against the table.
“That dumb fuck called his mother. We’ve tracked where they are. They’re not
getting away again.” Those words were meant for Santo, and Vincenzo paid no
attention to me. Of course. I wasn’t important in these matters.

I would only be his
prize
.