Chapter 2
GIOVANNI
Halfway back to Carlisle’s town center, I murmur to myself, “What the fuck was that, Vanni?”
Carlisle is a small coastal community, though not so small that every face is familiar.
Valentina should have been another shadowed figure in the morning rush.
She wasn’t. One glance of her beautiful face and cock-thickening body warranted another, and another, and another, until she became the only thing I could see.
I left her only five minutes ago, and she’s occupied my thoughts every single second.
It isn’t solely the way she looked at me that repeats in my head, or the way her sexy voice curled around my dick in silent promise of the best blow job of my life.
It’s every pore, every seductive curve, and each fleck of honey in her light-brown eyes.
Her beauty isn’t in the way social media tries to portray as attractive.
It’s unvarnished and real. She’s a recently mined diamond still waiting to be polished.
Her hair is a wild dark mane, one I can tell resists any attempts at taming.
When the first light of dawn caught it, I pictured how soft it would feel while running my fingers through it.
That isn’t me.
I don’t admire from afar, nor do I simp over women.
I’m a Caruso.
We fuck—hard. Then we leave.
That is the only way we operate.
So why can’t I stop mulling over the drastic shift in Valentina’s attitude when we arrived at her destination?
Something changed in her the instant she stepped out of my SUV.
Although shaken, her confidence was bright enough to cut through the morning haze.
But when her feet touched the pavement outside San Giorgio’s, her light faded, similar to a candle snuffed out by a sudden draft.
It was as if San Giorgio’s had stolen her spark and left only a shadow of the woman who immediately captivated me.
If time were in my favor, I would have scrutinized her change in composure to the same extent my hands would have explored her sultry body and face.
Alas, I didn’t even have the luxury of waiting for her to enter the hospital.
The clock on the dashboard was screaming at me.
Every second that ticked by underscored what was at stake.
I told myself I had no choice, that the family’s business and Carlisle locals need to come first. But as I weave through the narrow streets I’m trying to save, I can’t shake the concern that I fucked up.
I’ll come back. I will find her again. That isn’t a question. It’s a promise. Our introduction is merely undertaking a brief intermission so I can keep a promise I made many years ago.
It won’t take much to find her once my meeting is over. I know her full name and last known location.
Valentina isn’t as fortunate.
I didn’t give her my name. I saw her curiosity when I accepted her greeting without an official introduction but acted ignorant.
I’m not being arrogant when I say every resident of Carlisle recognizes my name.
Although that makes me proud, I learned the hard way that being known carries as many burdens as it does comforts.
The Caruso name opens doors, but it can close them if you listen to the wrong tales. Since I didn’t want to risk anything scaring Valentina away before I’ve had the chance to offer a proper introduction, I withheld a minor detail of my life.
While recalling how Valentina offered me her hand to shake, as if she knew I was picturing ways for that exact body part to help settle the debt she now owes me, I roll her name over my tongue.
Valentina Raimondi.
Her name suits her. It’s unapologetically Sicilian, yet with a sexiness that conjures images of her fuckable curves and flawless face.
I’ve met plenty of beautiful women. I’ve dated models, actresses, and heiresses, but none of them has ever made me want to forget my responsibilities.
I don’t do this. I don’t get involved or let myself care.
Loyalty, secrets, and the unspoken understanding that nothing lasts forever formed the foundation of the Caruso dynasty.
Everything can vanish in an instant. I’ve spent thirty-four years learning that lesson, and during that time, I’ve carved out a place for myself in a world where trust is more valuable than gold.
Attachments are dangerous.
They make you hesitant.
They make you weak.
And yet, I acted today without considering how my gallantry would favor my family or myself.
That was unheard of only thirty minutes ago.
For thirty-four years, I’ve looked out for no one but myself and my family.
No one has ever had the privilege of slating their names next to my parents and brothers.
Not even Dante’s baby mama, whom I’ve not spent a single second looking for, even though she’s been missing for six weeks.
If I hadn’t been there, watching Valentina from afar, she wouldn’t be here now.
The thought adds to the anger still blackening my veins.
As I roll up my sleeves, too hot under the collar not to react to my rising body temperature, the moment Valentina nearly stepped into the path of the truck plays through my head in crystal-clear detail.
Valentina’s head was down, so she was oblivious to the danger barreling toward her. Without the instincts I’ve developed from living on the edge, I wouldn’t have rushed to her defense before my head could object.
In three heart-thrashing seconds, I grabbed her arm, yanked her back, and then crowded her against my SUV.
Despite the wind tunnel the truck’s brutal speed caused, the wild flutter of Valentina’s pulse against my pulse made my dick as unbendable as a steel rod.
Then, when her eyes met mine, wide and unguarded… fuck.
Everyone knows the Carusos are direct. We’re not known for subtlety or hesitation, but something about Valentina made me act differently. She’s beautiful, yes, but it’s more than that. Her commanding presence drew my eye long before she stepped into danger.
Even though I shouldn’t care how close to death she was, I do.
The anger clutching my throat hasn’t loosened its grip in the slightest, and my jaw is tense enough to crack.
I’m late for an important meeting, and although my commitments usually take precedence, the desire to beat the living shit out of the person responsible for my annoyance is too potent to ignore.
Confident my brothers will support my decision to right an injustice, I swing the SUV into a tight U-turn.
Burning rubber fills my nostrils as I turn down a familiar street.
I know the company I’m seeking. The logo on the side was subtle, but I’d recognize it anywhere.
It’s from one of my family’s many businesses.
The knowledge enhances my fury.
My family rarely offers mercy. Our rules don’t protect you solely based on your gender.
If you double-cross us, expect to pay for your stupidity with your life.
This is different, though. Valentina didn’t steal a drug shipment or place pinholes into my brothers’ condoms to try to force ties with a legacy in the billions.
She was walking on the fucking street, as thousands of tourists and locals do every day.
That doesn’t warrant a death certificate.
I work my jaw side to side while pulling into the dusty lot of a transportation company five clicks out of town. Once parked at the front, I get out and shut the driver’s side door with a bang.
Heads turn as I walk toward where the trucks are stored. They know this can’t be good. The Carusos only visit when something is awry. We don’t do drop-in spot checks, especially not the person who heads the clan.
Although my visit will whistle through the gallows for months, my strides don’t falter. My blood is too hot to let this go.
It only takes scanning half a dozen faces to spot the one I’m seeking.
I didn’t see the driver’s face or plate while racing to beat him to Valentina.
I was too busy sheltering Valentina to take in any identifiable features, but the guilt on this man’s face tells the entire story.
He knows who I am. Just like he knows why I’m here.
“Signor Caruso.” Even with fear flaring in his bloodshot eyes, his composure is calm. I don’t believe his red eyes are because he’s been crying. It seems he enjoys the drugs this company transports more than a casual user would.
Dust kicks up when I bridge the gap between us. “You nearly killed someone back there.”
The fool shrugs, feigning indifference. It’s a pity his shaky hands betray his fear. “It wasn’t my fault. She wasn’t looking where she was going.”
His lazy dismissal extinguishes the last of my patience.
Fisting the front of his shirt, I yank him forward until his face is an inch from mine, and the popping of his buttons pierces through the noise in my head.
He’s taller than me and a good thirty pounds heavier, but backing down isn’t in my vocabulary.
“Not only did you drive through Carlisle like you own the place, but you did it with our merchandise dusting your fucking nose.” I flick his nostril with my spare hand.
My fairy tap springs tears to his eyes and sprinkles the collar of his uniform with the white powder I’m skeptical he paid for.
“When you wear this uniform, you represent my family. Today, you made us look irresponsible. That’s unacceptable. ”
Color drains from his face when it dawns on him how serious I am. He tries to pull back, but my grip is ironclad, so he returns to being a coward. “I-I’m sorry, Signor Caruso. It won’t happen again. I-I—”
Before he can issue another pathetic excuse, I strike him hard across the cheek. My backhanded slap sends him sprawling backward, and he lands on his ass with a thud. Seconds later, the crack of my foot breaking several of his ribs booms over the shocked huff of the people surrounding us.