34. Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alessandrio
T here is something dark and uncertain beneath the calm in the back of our SUV. I know this game, have played it many times before. Never, however, have the stakes been so high and the odds been so low. Seeing Olivia drove home all that anxiety, every way this meeting could go wrong. There will be resistance, and she will be in the greatest danger yet. My fists ball, claws stabbing my palm and I find comfort in the pain of them. I had to keep my distance from her. Knowing what we are about to walk into, it was better that I didn’t distract myself from preparations.
This… this is my world. The society parties were my days off, but these meetings, these moments surrounded by threats are my bread and butter. My father carved his spare with bloody hands, made me a monster at my core, and it was only lucky that my face was pretty enough to hide all that ugliness. Now there is no hiding. I am what I was beneath the surface, a terrible thing— a promise of violence. It all serves to give me an edge.
Three SUVs pulling down an alley way might give someone pause, but not on this quiet street. I watch our men pile out of the cars ahead of us and find comfort in numbers. This isn’t just a meeting, this is a full on take over and our men will help mitigate resistance. I allow myself a moment of weakness and let my gaze find her. She trains her eyes ahead, watching our men spill into the alley, all armed to the teeth and ready for war. None of her previous fear or anxiety is visible on the surface, her profile is all devastating beauty. I felt fucking pride seeing her by the window. Despite her overflowing emotions, she looked like a queen—a Mafia queen.
Emilio looks over his shoulder, his eyes focused on the woman beside me, a deep furrow between his low brows. I watch the blue of them slide to where my hand rests against the leather seat, the smallest of my fingers just brushing against hers. His gaze lingers there for a heartbeat of a moment before he’s turning around again, a slight lift in the corners of his mouth, an easing of whatever worries him. Mine. My insides roar, the feeling louder than ever with this new test. I will protect her at all costs today, and then, as promised, I will take her home, strip her bare and lay claim to every inch of her skin.
Lorenzo climbs out of the driver’s seat, Emilio following suit, his terrible face swinging this way and that as he checks the alley for anyone who might see him. I move to open my door, but a gentle hand on my other wrist gives me pause. Her fingers slide up my forearm, setting small fires in their wake, and I don’t even try to suppress the rumble that begins low in my chest. My free hand finds her jaw, fingers sliding along the bone, to twine around her ear and bury themselves in her hair. Grey eyes flutter closed as her mouth softens and that low rumble that started in my chest finds its way into my mouth to spill across her lips.
“Promise me I will survive this.” Her words are barely above a whisper.
“I will allow nothing to happen to you. I am not done with you yet, princess.” My words are harsh with my unspent growl.
She pulls back, my claws scraping gently against her scalp and her eyes open. They once reminded me of who she was, now all I see is the bonfires of determination in their depth, and any residual doubt I had flees. Olivia Dolmino is not a double agent, she is just a girl whose life was ruined by the Mafia as well.
“Come,” I say, finally opening the door.
I give her my hand to help her down from the car and watch her cheeks flush as the crisp fall air greets her bare skin. I want her to remain holding onto my hand, but don’t fight it as she lets go, making her way to where my brother and Lorenzo wait. Our men watch her with a mix of curious and appreciative eyes and the urge to crowd her and lay claim is strong, but I hold myself back. This isn’t about me and my needs right now.
“Ready?” Emilio asks her quietly.
“Yes.” Her voice is firm and clear.
“Ready?” my brother commands, looking around at our men. The answer is a resounding fuck yes.
His eyes finally find me. He doesn’t even need to ask. I was carved for this. I move past them all, feeling Olivia’s eyes on me as I storm into the back door of the nondescript building. We aren’t quiet—this isn’t a stealth mission. My men enter behind me, their presence a heavy force. I try not to think about where she is in this procession, Emilio and Lorenzo will have kept her to the back, beyond harm’s reach. The halls are empty. The quiet would make any other person cautious, send a chill down their spine, and maybe turn their bowels to water. I know better. My fist collides with the wall as we near a door at the end.
Raising that same hand, I stop and feel my men do the same. Tension crackles in the small space, the only sound is the heavy breathing of someone behind me.
“Send someone out,” I call and release the catch on my holster, sliding the gun out and aiming it. The heavy metal is a comfort, with the distance and potential for shit to hit the fan. My horns, claws and teeth would only do good in close quarters and even then we aren’t immortal.
The door opens, and a man steps out, hands raised up above his shoulders.
“Jesus Christ.” He coughs as his eyes land on me and the whites of them become larger. “The rumours are true.” The words aren’t for me, but for whoever waits in the room behind him.
I can’t help the grin that tugs at my mouth, flashing him those two very sharp pearly whites as I move closer and lower my gun, just enough.
“Rumours always have a grain of truth,” I say in greeting.
I twirl my finger and watch brown eyes find the claw tips and the man’s pallor becomes sickly. He turns, despite his fear, and I reach out to catch his shoulder in a firm grip. I will never walk into any meeting without a human shield. I have seen what happens when men think they are entitled to courtesy with the Mafia. Casting one more glance behind me to the hall, my eyes rove over the faces, peering back, but none of them are the ones I want to see. My gaze meets that of the monster, standing head and shoulders above the rest. He gives me the nod and I breathe easier. He will keep her outside until I give the cue that it’s safe.
“You are an ugly date,” I croon in the man’s ear as I push him forward.
“Yeah, well, you aren’t the blushing debutante I was hoping for either.”
I chuckle darkly and force him over the threshold, my gun pointed into his lower back and my hand gripping his shoulder. I lower my head, just a fraction, and try to keep my body in tight to hide my mass behind his and peer over his shoulder. A cacophony of curses and prayers fill the room as part of my face and body is exposed to their view.
“Good afternoon gentlemen,” I say, letting my eyes rove over the occupants. “Where are your guns?” An older man, his face pale and eyes wide in fear, points to a table and I see several pieces laid out atop. “Good, now do me a solid and put all your hands up in the air where we can see them. My men will do the same. This is just a simple meeting. You get to choose if you go home to your wives and mistresses today.”
Fifteen men all dressed in suits, in different states of fear, raise their hands. I don’t relinquish my hold on the man or my gun, but continue to use him as a shield as I enter, checking every corner of the space for a potential ambush. Satisfied, I let the man go and straighten to my full height as my human shield scurries away, back to his spot. I say nothing, no sly comment as I meet each man’s eye, daring them to give me a reason. No one does, but I see a few set jaws and a few narrowed gazes and mark their faces. The Greco men spill into the room, arms raised as well as they make their way to a table and drop their pieces. When I first entered this world, the pressure would make my knees buckle and my palms sweat. Now I am a weathered soldier of the war machine that is family.
Heads turn as my brother fills the door frame. He’s an impressive sight, fur darker than my own, powerfully built and with matching physical weapons. Pride claws at my chest as he surveys the room. Our father used to be in his spot, a presence commanding attention and respect. He would have paled by comparison to what Emilio is today.
“Gentlemen,” Emilio begins, “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”
My eyes watch the threshold as he crosses it, hoping for a glimpse of her, knowing, however, that she will wait in the hall with Lorenzo until the room is ready to receive her. I fight every muscle in my body that demands I check on Olivia, instead forcing my attention on the room and any man who might like to take a shot at a monstrous Greco.
“Your Don is gone, his inheritance spent on destroying my family. He, as you can tell, was unsuccessful.” A few more gazes around the room narrow. “You are all here because you didn’t take part in the event that tried and failed to ruin us.” Only I can hear the strain in my brother’s voice as he undoubtedly relives that moment. “But this isn’t a Greco takeover. We want you to maintain your businesses, earn your money, and continue to thrive in this city. You do, however, need a new boss and believe me when I tell you, I found one—or better yet, my brother did.” Eyes flick to me in question. “She—.”
“She!?” The word ricochets around the room with nothing short of stunned disbelief from some mouths, while others just look disgusted.
“Yes, she, motherfuckers.” I don’t even try to hide the threat in my low, rasping voice, and my brother throws me a warning look.
“As Alessandrio so eloquently put it—yes, she. Narciso Dolmino had a daughter,” There is another rumble from the Dolmino associates. “Before you cry bullshit, we have all the papers to solidify her birth. She also has a fortune, one that would make all of your eyes water, to be released to her on her twenty-first birthday in December. This isn’t a takeover, gentlemen, more like an alliance. The woman in question has agreed to marry my brother.”
“So she’s a Greco wh—” I am by the man in less than three strides.
There is a flurry of movement as men back away from him, and my hand reaches out to pluck him up by his fucking throat. His feet kick as they leave the ground and I draw him in close so I can see this motherfucker’s very soul.
“Continue what you were saying.” I smile down into his face, mere inches from my own. “Go on. I dare you.”
Fingers claw uselessly at my hand as his face turns red and his eyes bulge
“Pl—ease,” he pleads, his spit flecking my hand through his gasps.
I drop him, coughing and spluttering, to the ground, and meet every other man’s eye in the room. The line in the sand has been drawn: insult her and you will deal with me. There is no need for words. My reputation before this was putrid and now I look worse than I act. A feat they undoubtedly thought impossible.
“As I was saying,” Emilio continues on, ignoring the man recovering on the floor. “Olivia Dolmino has agreed to marry my brother, a love match if I say so myself.” My face snaps to Emilio but he is staring at the men, a twitch of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Prick.
My brother continues on, explaining how this alliance will work as he leaves me disoriented by his words. A love match. The idea of it is impossible, deplorable even. Yes, I want to be near her, yes I like the sound of her voice and the shape of her body. A love match, though? My stomach balks at the thought. I cannot let her take that part of me. Threat or not, I saw what love did to Emilio when he let Lucia go. I want no part of that.
“Alessandrio,” my brother calls, his voice shaking me from my thoughts. I turn to look at him. “Bring her in,” he says with a stupid, knowing smile.
I glower at him. Not fucking funny. His amusement just twinkles in his eyes as I cross the room back to the door. My gaze sweeps the room, all humor dying as I check every person present. Where are their hands? Does their stance look like they are ready to attack? Once I account for every hand and ensure every foot is in the right place, I take a deep breath. This is for the good of the family, I remind myself as I open the door. It’s a gut punch seeing her. There is no doubting her heritage with those eyes and those cold, sharp features. It’s unnerving how easily the mask fell into place. I schooled her on everything today, quizzed her on it all, and yet I couldn’t teach that calculated beauty.
“Come,” I gesture for her and Lorenzo to enter, leaving the last of our men outside the door on watch.
“Gentleman, I introduce to you Olivia Dolmino. The new mistress of the Family Dolmino.” Emilio’s words brook no argument, and yet there is a shift in the room as the woman at the centre of this chaos pauses beside him, not even reaching his shoulder.
“And what claim does she have? What proof other than your word, Don Greco?” an older man at the front questions, his eyes pinched with suspicion.
“Your proof,” Emilio says and Lorenzo steps forward, all the necessary papers in his hand.
The man takes the papers and some of the other associates cluster around, reading over his shoulders. I keep sweeping the room, looking for any threats and watching everyone. The tension in my gut is the most intense it’s ever been, and all because I know, if shit hits the fan, she will be the one in the line of fire. I won’t let that happen. I shift closer to Olivia and Emilio, fighting down the urge to grab her and hide her in my shadow.
“Are you convinced?” Emilio questions the men.
The man holding the papers nods, and so do some men around him. I note those who don’t and give them a look that promises violence if they fuck with this.
“My brother made a terrible mistake trying to take over the Greco family.” Her voice pulls on every man’s attention. “He paid for it dearly. I realized the only way for the Dolmino family to continue on and thrive is through this alliance. Emilio has promised me none of you will be harmed and our business will continue to be our business, but now we will have the protection and assistance from the Greco’s.”
Pride swells in my chest as she goes off script, her intelligent eyes clearly noting the inevitable hesitation in the room.
“Her wealth is unmatched, and with my brother at her side, her position will be strong.” Emilio tells them and they nod, eyes still glued to the small woman at his side. “Our family’s alliance is necessary for the Dolmino family to repair itself. With Greco support, it will thrive.”
“This is a fucking farce and a takeover,” a younger man says from the back, and my shoulders tense. As the accusatory tone of his voice sets my teeth on edge, the swelling in my chest for Olivia deflates. I know him, recognize him from my time in the clubs. He has a penchant for running his mouth and slapping his women. “Do you know he,” the man—Rizzo, I think it is—points at me but his eyes are on Olivia. “Put the bullet in your father’s head?” A coldness permeates my body as her head shifts, grey eyes finding me wide with surprise and something akin to betrayal. “I won’t align with a woman who follows her cunt and becomes a puppet of the enemy.”
I am across the space, too late to stop his venom from spilling into the room. This is what I was made for, these random acts of violence that leave a room silent. It’s one thing to see a monster, it’s another thing to experience its nature. It’s common knowledge amongst the Mafia that we killedNarciso Dolmino, but that I put the bullet into Narciso’s head? Someone must have snitched. I never would have denied it—fuck, I was glad for it, but this is not how I would have wanted Olivia to find out. All I feel as I punch my claws into his eye sockets, as they explode around my fingers, is a desire to protect her, as morbid as it is. A short-lived scream erupts from his mouth before he convulses, body going taut as my long fingers spear into his brain. I snarl, pulling back my hand, and he slumps to the floor in a twitching heap. Blood and brain matter drip from my fingers as I face the now silent room, all eyes focused on me. The only pair I see though are a pair of pale grey ones, wide with disbelief.