Epilogue
The air is colder herein the highlands. The Scottish landscape is moody and wild. A bit like my bride-to-be. We’re here because Cindy wants us to get married at the ancient home she owns and Clifford’s partner, Derek, lost his shit at the idea. He thinks its too romantic to turn down.
I’m not sure getting married on what is now Nico’s property is the best idea, but Renata seems to find the tiny church romantic.
“This is just so fucking medieval,” Derek says, clapping his hands. “I’m seeing huge candelabras and massive pillar candles in each corner. Lots of flickering lights, and in one corner a harpist. It will be so romantic.”
“I want to wear red,” Renata says. “Not white, and this setting will perfectly suit how I imagine the event.”
“A red dress would look amazing with your complexion,” Cindy says enthusiastically.
It’s so fucking weird being here, with Cindy, and Nico. He’s been friendly enough. We’re not exactly friends, but we aren’t trying to murder one another.
He and Renatta seem to have come to an understanding, a tentative and probably fragile truce. It might shatter at any moment, but isn’t that the way of siblings?
For now, they seem united in disgust at their parents, who after setting all of this in motion threatened to cut Renata out of their will if she went ahead with marrying me. It seems they were all for it when they controlled things, not so much when they realized their daughter actually loved me.
Harsh words from Nico eventually persuaded them to back down.
Not that it matters. Renata has two million pounds in an account in her name. If anything happens to me, she gets it. Even if we divorce acrimoniously, she gets it. That and her previous divorce settlement mean she will have more than enough money to be safe and secure for the rest of her life.
I haven’t told her about the account yet, but I will this evening. No more secrets.
“What kind of red dress?” Derek asks. “I’m trying to picture the décor we will need.”
“I’ve seen one. A deep red, crushed silk gown. It’s layered with a chiffon lace material on the skirt with rose patterns in it, but because of the crushed silk underneath, the pattern is sutble as it is all the same color. It’s a frothy but classy dark red dress that looks like a beautiful flower.”
I can’t remotely imagine it, but Derek obviously can because his eyes light up. “Ooh, so shades of rich gold. Yes?”
Renata nods. “That would work.”
“Oh my God, you should ride in on my horse,” Cindy says. “He’s black.”
“Fuck my life,” Nico mutters. “Want a brandy? Leave them to it?”
I nod.
“Me too,” Clifford says as he rolls his eyes at Derek talking about napkins.
“I don’t get it,” Nico says as we head out of the massive kitchen.
I have to admit the house is utterly stunning. “Me either,” I say. “I never thought Renata would get into the planning side of it to be honest.”
“They all do,” Nico says as if he understands all of womankind.
We reach the study which Nico now uses as his, and he waves us inside.
When we’re settled with drinks, he eyes me speculatively. “You sure you know what you’re doing? There’s still time to back out.”
I laugh. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
In the past few months of being engaged to Renata, I’ve been happier than at any other time in my life. She isn’t always the easiest person to get along with. Her quick temper and tendency to fly off the handle mean she’s a firecracker, but I like that. I don’t want an easy life; I like the sparks.
Nico’s phone rings, and he pulls it from his pocket. He frowns. “Konstantin.”
I hear him speak, and then Nico interrupts him. “Just a moment.”
He places the phone on the desk and presses a button. “You’re on speaker,” he says. “I’m with Matteo and Clifford Mancini.”
“Gentlemen,” Konstantin’s gravelly voice fills the room.
“Matteo and Clifford are here planning Matteo’s wedding to my sister, the poor fucker. Anyway, I think your news will be of interest to them too.”
“Congratulations,” Konstantin says. “The news I have is from Nikolai Volkov, in part, and a friend and contact of Ilya’s in another part.”
“Ilya?” I ask.
“Sorry, yes. A business acquaintance in St Petersburg.”
“Go on,” Nico says.
“Volkov, as you know, has dealt effectively with the threat posed to your families from the small Greek operation in your territory. I do believe you helped with that too, Clifford.”
Clifford smirks. “Just a touch. A head here, a limb there.”
I roll my eyes. Konstantin, however, laughs. “As is the way.” He clears his throat. “The Volkovs have found that there are two more groups related very loosely to the one you’ve cleared out. One is in the North of England, Leeds and Manchester mostly. They are smaller, and from all the intel we’ve managed to gain, they are not looking for revenge. The other group is more mixed and less closely related, but one of the men in it is the cousin of the leader of the Greek group you were dealing with. They’re operating in San Francisco.”
I sit up at this. “That doesn’t sound like some small, haphazard group if they have tentacles as far as San Francisco.”
“Not tentacles, as such,” Konstantin says. “They aren’t part of a network or anything, but they are related by blood. I just wanted to give you guys a heads-up as myself, Nikolai, and a business associate of ours in Athens, Stamatis Kantos, are all going to make sure we keep an eye on them. Just in case.”
“We’ll do the same; thanks man,” Nico says.
“The grouping in Leeds and Manchester, the Volkovs have left alone. They pose no threat to you or them as it stands, and why start a war unnecessarily? Of course, you might wish to go another route. As for the San Francisco gang, they made a rather deadly and stupid mistake and took the daughter of a brigadier to the Bratva out there.”
“Are they fucked in the head?” Nico asks.
“Possibly,” Konstantin replies. “Either way, they now have the California Bratva’s enforcer after them, a man named Dimitri Baranov who allegedly is categorically insane. So bad news for them.”
“Well, if he needs anything at any point, tell him he can call me,” Nico says. “I don’t like the idea of any remnants of them being left. They threatened to decapitate my sister.”
I jolt as if I’ve been hit by a thousand volts. I stare at Clifford who meets my gaze with a steely one of his own. “Cuz, there was no point giving you specifics. You’d have lost your shit.”
“They threatened to decapitate Renata?” I ask, the anger growing in me.
“Um, yeah.” Nico glances at Clifford and then back at me. “I thought you knew.”
“Can you send me the information you have on this group in Manchester and Leeds?” I ask Konstantin.
“Of course. I’ll send a report to Nico, and he can share it with you, and then you guys can decide what to do with it.”
“I want the name and number of this Dimitri Baranov too if he’s dealing with some of them out in America.”
“Sure,” Konstantin replies smoothly. “I’ll bid you gents goodnight. Shout if you need anything.”
He hangs up, and I turn to Clifford, furious.
“Cuz, before you start, I made sure they were all dealt with. Me and Nikolai decimated them, okay? I didn’t give you the specifics of the threat because I didn’t want you to lose your fucking mind.”
“That wasn’t your call to make,” I snarl.
“Listen, it’s done now. No point arguing about it. What we need to decide is do we take them out in Manchester and Leeds even though they’re not part of the same crime syndicate, but loosely related genetically to those fuckers who messed with us, or do we leave them alone?”
“I say we deal with them,” I say.
Nico nods. “I tend to agree. Shall I have James organize it, so they meet a sticky end?”
“Won’t we need a ton of men?”
Nico shakes his head. “Let’s read the report, but if they’re street level assholes who are as disorganized as the London crew were, then James has ways of dealing with them that mean they quietly disappear. He and some of my men who work closely with him specialize in that kind of thing.”
Jesus. Really? I remember to pay James the due respect he’s clearly owed when I see him.
“Then let’s read the report, but I agree; we get rid of them,” Clifford says. “Especially if your man can make them disappear without trace.”
“He has his methods,” Nico says with a dark smile.
“Does it involve matchsticks being stirred into their morning coffee?” Clifford asks,
Nico stares at him for a long beat, and I cuff him upside the head. He starts to laugh, then there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Nico says.
Speak of the devil and all that. James walks in. I study him as he heads to the desk, opens a drawer, and takes out a phone. He glances up at us as if he’s just realized we’re all staring at him.
“Do I have a hair out of place?” he asks deadpan.
There’s a quietness to him that contrasts with Nico’s more grating arrogance, but I recognize it immediately for what it is. James is one deadly motherfucker.
“No, we just need you to quietly kill a lot of people,” Nico says.
“Oh, well, that’s okay then.” James smirks. “Let me have the details and the coordinates, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Do you use…” I slap my hand over Clifford’s mouth before he can utter another word.
James stares at us for a long beat, cold, calculating, and then he shrugs and leaves.
When the door closes, I glance at Nico. “He’s an intimidating motherfucker,” I state on a laugh.
“Just a bit,” Nico says with a grin. “But he puts the fear of death in my enemies.”
I laugh, and Nico offers us more brandy.
Life is so strange. Here I am with the enemy of my family, drinking and about to marry his sister.
I down my brandy in one go and rise. “I’m going to find Renata,” I say.
Ever since I heard those bastards wanted to decapitate her, I need to touch her and reassure myself she’s in one piece.
I find her in a massive room, with high ceilings and polished floors, laughing as Derek whirls her across the floor in a waltz.
It’s only the fact that he’s in love with my cousin that saves Derek from death.
“Renata.”
Derek stops dancing immediately and steps away from her. Wise man.
“Come here,” I say as I crook my fingers at her.
I turn to Derek. “Do you mind giving us a moment?”
“Not at all.”
He waves bye to Renata, and then we’re alone.
I tangle my fingers in her hair and take her mouth in a needy, hot kiss.
She moans and kisses, the fire that’s always there as a slow ember between us sparking to life as a roaring inferno.
I deepen the kiss, and her delicious tits press against me. Fuck, I need her, and I can’t wait to get to our room. The kitchen is to the left, and I take her hand and drag her into it. There’s no one in here, but someone could come in at any minute.
I spy the door and pull her to that. I open it and step inside an old-fashioned storage space. A large pantry, with bags of flour and potatoes on the floor and jars lining the shelves.
The light switch dangles by the door, and I pull it. A dim bulb flickers to life in the far corner of the room, throwing a dull yellow light over us.
My gaze takes in Renata and what she’s wearing. A simple light wool dress and boots. Perfect.
I pull the pantry door closed behind us.
“Matteo, I don’t think…”
My kiss stops her protests. I see the table out of the corner of my eye and spin her around. I bend her over it, and she gasps when I roughly hike her dress up.
I need to be inside her, to know she’s real, alive, and vital. To push that awful image from Nico’s study out of my mind.
She’s wearing a lace thong under her sensible dress, and I grin. That’s my Renata. Always with the sexy underwear, and I love it.
I smooth my palms over her ass and pinch one cheek. She gasps as I pull her thong to one side, finding her clit. She’s already wet, but I want her soaked. I lean over her and nibble her ear, as I toy with her pussy.
“I’m going to fuck you over this table like you’re the scullery maid and I’m the lord of the manor, and you’re going to take it like a good girl, aren’t you?”
Renata might be a woman who likes to be in control in every aspect of her life, but she loves to be bossed around in the bedroom. She might deny it, and even boss me right back, but it always makes her wet.
“Fuck you, this is sexual harassment, you disgusting pig. I’ll go to the manager.”
I laugh. “That’s the worst role play ever. They didn’t have managers in the feudal system, just women who did what they were told.”
“I don’t think the lord of the manor had a big, pierced dick.” She laughs.
“No, probably not. I’m going to shove it inside you, right here in this dark little room where anyone might walk in at any moment.”
She moans, and I rub her pussy harder. “I’m going to fill you with my cum, and you’re only wearing a tiny thong so some of it is most certainly going to drip down your thighs.”
“Matteo,” she moans.
I unzip and push myself inside her. She grips the table, and her cries are too loud, so I reach around with one hand and slam it over her mouth. Her cries become soft moans breaking against my flesh like waves against the shore.
My cock hits deep inside her, my balls slapping against her ass as I fuck her hard and desperate against the table.
I trap her clit between two fingers, and she bucks, her pussy clamping around me.
She comes, her cries intensifying as she bites my hand, which pushes me over the edge with her.
“Fuck me, Renata.” I pull out of her carefully, always aware of my piercings, and right her thong.
She turns to me, and her face is flushed, her lipstick smudged. There’s blood on her mouth, and I wipe it away with my thumb. “Your hand,” she says horrified.
“It’s fine,” I reply. “I’ve told you many times. I love your marks on me.”
“I hope no one heard.” She tries to smooth her dress down.
“Who cares?” I shrug. “Anyway, I think we should go for an afternoon siesta.”
Her eyes narrow. “By siesta you mean sex?”
“Of course.”
“We’ve just done it.”
“Once is never enough with you.” It’s the truth.
I kiss her then, needing her mouth on mine. “I need to talk to you too.”
I take her hand, but she pulls it free. “No, tell me now.”
Ah, my Renata, always thinking the worst. She always has that gut reaction that she’s going to be hurt. I hate her parents for doing that to her, and I hope in time that insecurity will fade away and she’ll continue to let her guard down as I earn her trust.
I sigh and smile at her. “It’s nothing bad. Just that I have a bank account for you. In your name. It’s legally yours now. You can drain it if you want and spend every penny in it. But I’d rather you didn’t as it’s there in case anything ever happened to me.”
“No, Matteo.” She scrunches her eyes shut as if she can shut out the harsh reality of this world. “Don’t say that.”
“Renata, it’s just an insurance. It’s so you never have to rely on your family. There’s two million in there.”
Her eyes pop open, comically wide. “No, that’s insane. I can’t.”
“You can and you will. Please. I love you. I’ll give you the account number.” Then I grin, wanting to lighten the atmosphere. “It means you can rip up that check for two hundred thousand you wrote yourself on my checkbook.”
Her cheeks redden, and she glances at her hands. “How do you know about that? I never cashed it; I wrote it when I was so angry with you. When I found out you were having me followed.”
“I saw it in your bag one day when you asked me to grab your phone.”
“I’m so embarrassed.”
I laugh. “Don’t be. I find it romantic.”
She shakes her head, but her lips twitch as she meets my gaze. “You would because you’re unhinged.” Then she bites her lip. “I took some money too. From the books, where you keep the cash.”
I laugh. “Did you spend it?”
“Yes.”
“What on?”
“Sexy underwear.”
My laugh deepens. “Then I consider it an excellent investment.”
She shakes her head with a sneaky grin tipping the corner of her lip.
“I love you,” I say softly.
“I love you too.”
I take her hand and lead my fiancée out of the room and up to bed where I plan to keep her for hours to come.