Chapter 8
Vincenzo
The Montoni mansion is an elegant fortress of glass and stone that is by no means impenetrable.
I’ve made this crossing several times now, moving across rooftops in the dark like a ghost, and the route is familiar.
Leap from an apartment building on the south side to a second-floor gable roof, scale the decorative latticework, and then traverse the slate tiles to where Adora’s balcony juts out below like an offering.
Tonight, cold wind cuts through my jacket as I move across the final stretch of roof. The city spreads out beyond in a glittering sprawl, but I barely see it. All I can think about is last night.
Her mouth so soft and sweet under mine. The way she kissed me back, desperate and hungry, like she was drowning and I was air. The small sounds she made when I pulled her into my lap.
I don’t want you to hurt the way I’m hurting.
I spoke the words before I could stop them, raw and honest in a way I haven’t been with anyone since my family died.
That confession wasn’t part of my plan. I should be planning Don Agnello’s death, not obsessing over his daughter.
I should be thinking about revenge, not about the way Adora’s hair came loose from its pins when I kissed her.
My body remembers the heat of her. The way she said my name. I need to see her again because I’m convinced that last night was a fever dream. The connection I felt with her can’t be real.
But if it is?
Then God help me, because I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do next.
I drop onto her balcony, my boots landing without sound on the stone. The glass doors are closed and the curtains drawn. I test the handle, and it’s unlocked. Either she’s careless, or she’s hoping for a nighttime visit from me.
The thought makes my heart pound faster.
I slip inside, and my eyes adjust quickly to the darkness. Her room is empty and the bed made. Disappointment lances through me, sharp and unwelcome. I was hoping to find Adora curled under the covers, her honey-blonde hair spilled across pillows.
I could settle into the shadows and wait like the assassin I am, but impatience burns under my skin. I came here to see her, and I need to see her now.
I move to her bedroom door and ease it open. The hallway beyond is dimly lit and silent. I step out, every sense alert. I’m creeping through Don Agnello’s house while he’s likely home, hunting for his daughter like a lovesick fool.
I move like smoke through the corridor, and I hear voices drifting up from below. One raised and angry, the other soft and pleading.
As I descend, the voices grow clearer.
“—completely unacceptable, Adora.”
Agnello, his voice cold and clipped and laced with fury.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and move along the wall, staying in the shadows. The study door is partially open, spilling light into the hallway. I position myself where I can see inside without being seen.
Adora stands in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around her body like she’s trying to hold herself together. She’s wearing simple clothes, jeans and a sweater. She looks small and fragile, but lovely as ever.
Agnello paces around her like a predator circling prey. His face is flushed as he snarls, “I gave you one simple task. One. And you couldn’t even manage that.”
A whisky bottle stands open on the coffee table, nearly empty.
“You don’t understand,” Adora pleads.
“Understand?” He laughs, the sound too loud, and I suspect he’s drunk. “What is there to understand? You had the perfect opportunity and you wasted it. You’re only good for standing around uselessly like you did at the engagement party.”
My breath catches.
“You should have told me beforehand what you were planning,” Adora says, her voice breaking.
“So you could refuse? I was right to tell you nothing,” Agnello says ruthlessly. “Stand there and play the blushing bride. That’s all you needed to know. That’s all you were good for, looking pretty while my men and I did what needed to be done.”
The engagement party. He’s talking about the massacre.
“All that blood,” Adora whispers, her body trembling and her voice shaking. “Night after night I see it whenever I close my eyes.”
“I said what I needed to say to get you there.” Agnello waves dismissively. “You led them right to slaughter like the obedient little lamb you are.”
Ice runs through my veins.
Adora didn’t know.
All this time, I’ve been blaming her and hating her because I thought she was complicit in my family’s murder.
“You’re useless, Adora. Just like your mother.” Agnello’s voice drips with contempt. “Or are you even more brainless than she was?”
Adora flinches like he’s struck her.
My hands curl into fists.
“Mom was not brainless,” she cries tearfully.
“You’re weak.” The venom in his voice makes my jaw clench. He’s speaking to her like she’s garbage. Like she’s nothing. She stands before him shaking in fear.
“I didn’t raise you to be weak,” Agnello continues, stepping closer to her. He’s shouting now, right in her face. “I didn’t raise you to fail me. Stop making excuses and do what you’re told!”
His hand rises.
Time slows.
I see the trajectory of his arm and the way Adora’s eyes widen.
She flinches backward but doesn’t raise her hands to defend herself.
The realization is gut-wrenching. She’s been hit before.
Many times. I should have understood this before.
My hatred for the Montonis has made me blind to the fact that Adora is a victim too, and I’ve been punishing her for something she didn’t do.
Something primal and violent roars to life inside me.
My body moves before I can think, and then I’m through the door, covering the distance between us in three long strides.
I catch Agnello’s wrist mid-swing.
He jerks in surprise, his head whipping toward me. He’s as tall as me, and strong in that bull-like way that middle-aged men are. But I’m stronger, and I have him off guard.
Shock then fury floods his face. “What the—”
I twist his arm behind his back, hard enough to make him gasp. Hard enough that one more inch of pressure would snap bone. “Finish that swing and I’ll break your arm.”
I’m surprised by how deadly calm I sound when every cell in my body is screaming for this man’s blood.
Agnello struggles in my grip, but I have leverage and the element of surprise. I have a woman to protect. The urge to snap his arm pulses through me like a second heartbeat.
Adora is mine.
No one touches what’s mine.
In my peripheral vision, I see Adora hovering close by, her hands clenched into anxious balls.
“Get your hands off me, Vici!” Agnello roars.
“Do you make a habit of hitting your daughter?” I seethe.
“What I do with my family is none of your goddamn business.”
The rage that’s been simmering in my chest since I heard them arguing explodes into something white-hot and consuming.
I viciously twist his wrist, and as he cries out, the sound feeds something dark inside me.
“Wrong answer.” My voice is ice. “Try again.”
“Vincenzo.”
I want to kill him. I could kill him right now.
“Vincenzo, please.” Adora’s voice is small and scared, and it cuts through my fury like a blade.
I finally look at her. She’s pale, shaking, her eyes wide with fear. Fear of what happens after, and the consequences when I leave and she’s alone with him again.
My grip loosens slightly, though I keep a hold of him.
“Please,” she whispers again. “Just…let him go.”
Every instinct screams at me to refuse and make Agnello pay for every moment he’s made her afraid, but Adora’s looking at me like I’m the one with the power to make this better or worse.
As much as my soul is clamoring for his blood, murdering Adora’s father in front of her would inflict even deeper scars on her already wounded soul.
I care if she’s hurting, I realize with a jolt. Her heart has become precious to me.
I release Agnello with a shove that sends him stumbling forward. He catches himself against a table, breathing hard, cradling his elbow.
I step between him and Adora, positioning myself as a physical barrier. My body language is clear.
You’ll have to go through me to get to her.
Agnello straightens, his face twisted with rage and humiliation. “Get out of my house.”
“Make me.”
The words hang in the air, challenging him to pick on someone his own size.
Agnello’s face contorts with rage. “You think you can walk into my house and give me orders?”
“Think I can?” I ask, my voice dropping to something deadly. “I know I can. If you try hurting your daughter again, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
I step closer, letting him see the promise of violence in my eyes.
“She’s mine,” I tell him. “My bride. My woman. Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”
I mean every word. I’ve stopped wanting to marry Adora for revenge and started wanting her for myself.
“Not if I kill you first.” Agnello’s glance twitches toward the desk drawer, where he no doubt keeps a gun.
I don’t move. Don’t even blink. “If you think you’re fast enough, try it. Give me a fucking reason.”
The air crackles with barely leashed violence. My self-control is slipping. We’re seconds away from blood.
“Stop it, please! Both of you, just stop.”
Adora’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade. She moves between us, one hand on my chest, the other raised toward her father.
“Please,” she says, her voice breaking. “Please, no more blood. No more death. I can’t—” She swallows hard. “I can’t watch anyone else die because of me.”
Her body is trembling. I can feel the despair radiating from her in waves.
But she stepped between us anyway and put herself in the line of fire to stop this. My eyes graze the curve of her cheek. Drink in those luminous amber eyes.
Brave. Foolish.
Beautiful.
I don’t move, but I don’t advance either. For now, I will honor her plea even as everything in me screams to finish this. To end Agnello right here, right now, and be done with it.