Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ALESSANDRO
I stare through the tinted windows of the car as the gates to the Caruso mansion slide open slowly.
Too slowly for my patience that’s already running thin this morning.
I like to think I’m a levelheaded man, but with my cousin Luca, the senior capo of the Gallo organization, hard at my heels, I’m in the mood for blood.
But that will have to wait until after my meeting with Massimo.
As we drive down the winding path, Massimo’s home rises against the gray morning sky. Armed guards patrol the perimeter like soldiers protecting a small country instead of one aging mafia boss and his prissy daughters.
One of them, Camilla, is about to be my wife. I can’t say I’m thrilled about getting hitched to a starry-eyed girl with no clue how the real world works, but it’s an important alliance.
The Carusos are a big name here in New York, and I need all the support I can get right now. If that means marrying a prude, I will. As long as Camilla keeps quiet and her nose out of my business, the marriage will work.
Beside me, Valerio chuckles as he parks the car. He’s my underboss, and currently the only person I trust. He’s been with me since I was a nobody in Italy, and chose to return with me to America to claim my position as the Don of the Gallo family.
There’ve been many complaints about me making him an underboss since he’s not Gallo blood, but I have no problem explaining myself to whoever is bold enough to ask to my face.
“You look irritated already,” Valerio says.
“I am. Let’s get this over with.” I push the door open.
“Is this a good idea?” Valerio rushes. “You’re in a bad mood. And you don’t even like Massimo—”
I cut him off by stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut, my gaze sweeping toward the guard approaching us.
Valerio is right about one thing. I don’t like Massimo. He’s a haughty, scheming, power-hungry geezer who looks down his nose at others.
He doesn’t know I know this, but when I first came to America, he wanted nothing to do with me. I still remember the look on his face during those early meetings with the other families. Like I was some feral dog dragged in from the streets.
But now that I’ve fought my way to the top and carved my throne with the carcass of my enemies, he’s willing to hand over his daughter. I’d be eating out of his skull for lunch if I didn’t need him, too.
The guard stops in front of me just as Valerio reaches my side.
“Mr. Gallo,” he says respectfully.
I adjust the cuffs of my black coat once. “I’m here to see Mr. Caruso.”
The guard hesitates only briefly before nodding.
“Of course.”
We’re ushered into the foyer moments later. It’s a huge space, and it reminds me of the mansion last night. The memory makes my jaw tighten.
Long, silky dark brown hair that made my cock hard. Warm, hazel eyes. Smart mouth that made me want in a way I’ve never wanted before. Interesting woman. Terrible liar.
And gone before I could figure out who the hell she actually was.
The thought irritates me more than it should.
“Wait here, sir,” the guard says. “I’ll tell Mr. Caruso you’re waiting.” He disappears upstairs.
Valerio glances at me once the guard is out of hearing range.
“You think the old man’s going to fight you on this?”
“He won’t. As long as I marry his daughter, the date makes no difference to him.”
But it makes all the difference to me. I need to act. Now.
Luca believes the leadership belongs to him, not me.
To my annoyance, he’s moving faster than expected.
Pushing harder with the elders. Making promises to men who already resent me for coming back from Italy and taking control of the family.
The Kuznetsov negotiations help, but they aren’t enough on their own.
I need the Caruso alliance secured immediately before Luca creates bigger problems.
Movement in the stairway catches our attention.
Massimo is standing at the top of the it in a black suit, holding a walking cane embellished with the Caruso crest. His beady black eyes glint at me. He’s probably annoyed that I came unannounced. I don’t care. If he’s waiting for an apology, he won’t be getting one.
Behind him, three women appear.
His daughters.
Camilla is the one I recognize first. My future wife. Pretty. Soft. She doesn’t hold my attention, which I absolutely prefer. I want a wife, not a distraction.
I let my gaze drift to the lady beside her. Probably the youngest Caruso. Small, delicate features, youthful. She’s clinging to the third one in the group.
When I look at the third, she’s already glaring at me. There’s fire in this one, and it sends blood straight to my cock.
Fuck.
I slowly take her in.
Dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. Olive skin that catches the light. Slender frame, feminine curves that’ll make any man hard as granite.
Am I a bastard for staring at my future sister-in-law? Maybe. But I’ve never claimed to be a good man.
I catch her gaze again. This time, I’m tempted to smirk.
She’s welcome to fly down those stairs and strike me if she likes. Whatever I’ve done to earn her ire, I’m more than ready to double the offense.
The sharp click of a cane against marble cuts through the heightened tension. Massimo descends the staircase, eventually coming to a halt a few feet away. His daughters follow.
"Alessandro," he says, his voice gravelly. "You haven’t met all my daughters."
He turns slightly toward them.
"Of course, you know Camilla. Your bride-to-be."
Camilla offers a forced, brittle smile. I offer nothing but a curt nod in return.
"And this," Massimo continues, "is Daniela. My youngest."
"Good morning," Daniela says, her smile looking just as strained as her sister’s.
I give another nod. It’s all I’m capable of right now.
“And this is Sienna.”
The fiery one.
Now that she’s closer, the warm hazel of her eyes does something treacherous to my head—and my cock. Thankfully, my briefs are doing a damn good job of keeping my reaction hidden.
I never forget a face, and something tells me I’ve seen hers before. The other sisters are beautiful in a conventional sense, but Sienna is beautiful in a more specific way I prefer. I can’t explain the pull, and I hate that I can’t.
My lips deliberately curl into a smirk, and I watch with satisfaction as her eyes explode into a private inferno. Beneath my slacks, I harden further.
There’s a problem here.
Between the masked woman from last night and Sienna, my cock is acting like a stray. I’ve always been a man of discipline; I don’t know why my body’s rebelling now. Maybe because I haven’t had sex in two weeks. I should rectify that today.
Massimo gestures with his cane toward the sitting area in the foyer.
“Let’s have a seat. I have a feeling this is important.”
He claims a single armchair while the three sisters crowd onto the larger sofa. My eyes trail back to Sienna, savoring the way she can't seem to look away from me either.
A sudden, vivid image flashes through my mind. Of Sienna on her knees, those wide, glistening eyes looking up at me while I fuck her throat. The thought is so violent, that a curse slips past my teeth out loud. I plunge right into my business before I embarrass myself any further.
“I’m here regarding the marriage scheduled for next month.”
From the corner of my eye, I see the sisters’ hands find each other, their fingers locking tight.
Do they think I’m about to call it off? I’m sure that would make them ecstatic.
“I didn’t peg you as a man who went back on his word, Alessandro,” Massimo says, his voice like grinding stones. “We had a deal. You marry my daughter.”
I nod. “I’m not going back on my word. I want the wedding moved up. Instead of next month, I want to marry your daughter in two weeks.”
A strangled cry erupts from the sofa. It’s Camilla. Her sisters immediately converge on her, holding her as she begins to fall apart.
I notice Massimo doesn't even glance in her direction. A father shouldn’t be so desensitized to his daughter's pain, but I’d be a pretentious bastard if I claimed to care. I didn't exactly grow up bathed in fatherly love and I sure as hell don’t care how Massimo distributes his.
Massimo gives a single, sharp nod. “I agree.”
“Of course, you agree.”
It’s Sienna. I finally turn, and she’s so fucking glorious as she glares at me. I’ve killed men for less, and yes, I want to punish Sienna’s insolence, too, but not with death.
“Sienna.” Massimo's voice is curt, and I have a feeling this tone used to work on her before. It doesn’t right now.
“At least, have the decency to look at your daughter as you sell her to the highest bidder, father.”
A muscle ticks in Massimo’s jaw, but he keeps his gaze locked on me.
I’m not looking at him, though. I’m focused entirely on Sienna. She shakes her head at her father and finally turns. I hold her gaze, daring her to look away. She doesn’t. Instead, she stands taller.
“And if you’re so desperate for a wife, at least have the decency to speak to her before making a decision!”
I let my gaze land on Camilla for a beat, before rising back to Sienna.
“Why? Of what use is her opinion to me?”
My words have the desired effect because the hazel in Sienna’s eyes turns into a literal tornado. I almost laugh, which is strange considering I can't remember the last time I felt the urge.
“You bastard!” she spits. “This is the only way you could ever get a wife. By buying one. No respectable woman with a brain would ever want a man like you.”
I have a dozen retorts ready to fuel her fire, but I’ve gone cold. The lines between this morning and last night are blurring.
Sienna’s voice. Her eyes. Her ire. The specific way her lips move.
It’s all blending into the memory of the masked woman.
It’s uncanny. It’s impossible. There is no way Massimo would have let his daughter attend an event like that.
Everyone in our world knows how he guards them. And yet... I can’t shake the feeling.