Chapter 3
Christiano
My fist connects with Kevin’s jaw, and the Irishman’s head snaps back before he falls on his ass.
“Get up,” I growl, my breaths falling heavy over my lips.
Kevin, who’s one of the higher-ups in the Irish mob, struggles to his feet and takes a few steps away from me. He wipes the blood from his mouth, giving me a hateful look that’s growing less potent by the minute.
I’ve been beating his ass for the past hour to let off some steam before my baby sister’s wedding.
Even though I’m happy for Gianna, her marrying Riccardo Vitale only serves as a reminder that it’s been seven fucking excruciating years since Sienna broke things off between us.
Every time I see her, I lose my mind a little more, and it’s only a matter of time before I become a soulless monster.
I lunge at Kevin and slam my fist repeatedly into his face.
What’s the use of having a soul when it’s been torn in half? She’s out there enjoying her life without me, while I sink deeper and deeper into the darkness she left behind after she tore my heart from my fucking chest.
When Kevin falls flat on his back, I crouch over him. Gripping his neck, my thumb digs into his Adam’s apple, while I continue to beat the fuck out of him.
Memories of Sienna smiling and laughing in my arms flash before my eyes while I take all my frustration and anger out on the Irishman.
“He’s dead, boss,” Nico says, and I slam my knuckles into the fucker’s crushed cheekbone before I climb to my feet.
My right hand pulses with pain, and the torn skin over my knuckles stings.
Nico tosses me a bottle of water, which I catch mid-air. I stare at the body that’s covered in fresh bruises and blood while taking a few sips. As I pour some water over my hand to rinse it, I order, “Drop the fucker off at the docks.”
While I walk to where my shirt is draped over the back of a chair, I hear Nico instruct two soldiers to get rid of the body.
I grab the black T-shirt and pull it over my head. My phone begins to ring, and my eyes flick to the table it’s lying on. Seeing Enzo’s name, I pick up the device and swipe over the screen before barking, “What?”
“Where the fuck are you?” my brother asks.
“At the warehouse.”
“What is so important that you’re there instead of getting ready for the wedding that’s in forty minutes?”
The meager relief I got from killing the mobster vanishes, and incessant rage floods me. I clench my jaw because even though I struggle to control my temper, I try not to take it out on my family.
My tone is harsh as I reply, “I’ll meet you all at the church.”
“Okay. Don’t be late.”
After I end the call, I pick up my gun from the table and shove it into the waistband of my pants while I walk toward the SUV parked right outside the warehouse where I like to kill my enemies.
I don’t have to tell Nico where we’re going, and the ride home is silent. Over the past seven years, Nico has learned to read me like a book. He’s become an extension of me, like Uncle Carlo is to Dad.
Honestly, if it weren’t for him, I’d probably be dead by now. The man has taken four bullets for me and saved my ass countless times.
I’ll see Sienna within the next hour.
The thought shudders through me, and even though so much time has passed, I can’t keep myself from praying for a miracle.
The only reason I’m still a functioning human being is that she hasn’t tried to date anyone else.
I don’t care that she’s trying to keep me at a distance. She’s still mine.
After Nico parks the SUV in the reserved spot, I shove the door open and get out. With Nico by my side, I walk to the elevator. He scans the access card and accompanies me up to my penthouse.
“I’ll lay out your tuxedo,” he says as we walk into the foyer.
I head straight for the bathroom, and while I strip out of my clothes, my thoughts revolve around Sienna.
I still don’t know why she ended things between us. I’ve asked her many times over the past seven years. After she broke things off, I threw myself into my work and kept busy while I gave her the time she needed.
But one year became two, and two became four. Years five and six broke me, and over the past twelve months, I’ve embraced the pain and rage.
Stepping into the shower, I open the faucets, and as the cold spray hits me, goose bumps spread over my body.
I’ve only seen Sienna four times this year, and every single time it was fucking unbearable walking away from her.
I go through the motions of showering, and once I’m done, I dry off.
Nico comes in with a first aid kit, and while he tends to my busted knuckles, he says, “You should really consider wearing gloves.”
“I like feeling their blood on my skin.”
His eyes flick to mine. “What will you do once you’ve wiped out the Irish mob?”
“Move on to the Albanians.”
He lets out a chuckle as he wraps a bandage around my hand. Usually, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck about the bruises showing, but it’s Gianna’s wedding.
Once he’s done, I walk into my bedroom and get dressed.
“Fifteen minutes until the wedding,” Nico says. “We need to leave now.”
I nod and follow him out of the room while shrugging on my jacket.
“Do you have your speech?” he asks as we step into the elevator.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I memorized it,” I say, so he’ll stop worrying.
We make our way to the SUV, and during the drive to the cathedral, my thoughts keep revolving around Sienna.
Over the years, she’s become more introverted. Sometimes she’s cold toward me, and other times she looks scared of me.
The thing I miss most is seeing affection in her eyes.
The SUV comes to a stop, and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm down even more, so I won’t worry my family.
“You’ve got this,” Nico says, his tone soft.
Meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror, I order, “Watch me when I’m around Sienna.”
“Always.”
I’m scared of what I’ll do when I finally snap, and the last thing I want is to hurt the woman I love.
Sienna
You’re here for Riccardo.
Deep breaths.
I took my anxiety medication right before we arrived, so I hope I can control my anxiety today.
Since I’ve been diagnosed with thanatophobia and started getting treatment, it’s gotten better. But whenever I know I’m going to see Christiano it always spirals out of control.
I feel the air shift and recognize the confident footsteps as they come up the aisle.
He’s here.
Lowering my head, I open my clutch and pretend to look for something.
“I almost thought you weren’t going to make it,” I hear Augusto say.
“I had last-minute business to take care of.”
The sound of Christiano’s rough and deep voice causes a tremble to spread through my body. My heart clenches before setting off at an anxious pace.
It’s been difficult watching him turn into a merciless man. Even though he’s been raised to rule the Cosa Nostra, I never thought he’d become so…brutal.
I’ve heard the gruesome stories of how Christiano is ruthlessly slaughtering the Irish whenever Augusto fills Dad in on what’s happening at work.
He stops right beside the pew I’m seated in, and with my heart beating even faster, I can’t stop myself from glancing at him. The first thing I see is the bandage around his hand.
I can guess how he got injured. He probably beat someone.
I take in the black tuxedo he’s wearing, which isn’t something I get to see him in often. He prefers black slacks and a black dress shirt. The sleeves are always rolled up to his elbows, and the style has become synonymous with him.
It really doesn’t matter what he wears, he always looks heartbreakingly hot.
The attraction I’ve been doing my best to suppress floods my abdomen like a tidal wave, and the love I feel for him makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.
Dad gets up and leans over me to shake Christiano’s hand. “Good to see you again.”
“You too.”
When Dad sits down, I feel Christiano’s eyes burning on me, and knowing I can’t be rude, I glance up just as he leans down.
Oh God.
My lips part, and my breath stalls when my eyes lock with his. There’s so much anger and ferociousness in his dominant gaze it makes fear slither through me.
Gone is the man I fell in love with. In his place is a ruthless capo.
“Princess.” His hand settles behind my head. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and like always, he lingers, and I hear him inhaling my scent.
My fingers twist together, and not even a second later, Christiano’s hand settles over both of mine. He squeezes, and it lessens some of the anxiety churning in my stomach while a warm sensation eases the pressure in my chest. My eyes fall shut, and I soak in the feel of his lips against my skin.
“It’s time,” Aunt Gabriella says as she hurries up the aisle. “Everyone, take your seats.”
Not caring that he’s holding up the ceremony, he takes another few seconds before he pulls away.
As I watch him sit down on the other side of the aisle, I can’t stop myself from drinking in the sight of him. The boyish charm is long gone. Now, all six-five feet of Christiano is muscle, tattoos, and scars. It matches his unforgiving personality.
I lower my head and stare at my hands, the warmth of his touch still lingering on my skin.
Where Christiano has become one of the most feared men in the world, I’ve…well, I haven’t achieved anything.
I haven’t conquered any of my demons, and I’m still an unstable mess who’s consumed by fear and anxiety.
Augusto is making a success of running the family business. Riccardo is getting married, and after his honeymoon, he’ll become Augusto’s underboss. Bianca might not work, but at least she studied fashion design and doesn’t hide from the world.
Even though Augusto, Bianca, and I are triplets, I’ve managed to hide my mental health from them. Only Mom and Dad know I see a psychiatrist once a week and take nine pills a day just to function.
Music begins to play, drawing me out of my thoughts. Mom appears next to me. “Scoot up.”
We all shift to the left, making space for her to sit beside me.