CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VINO
Seeing my woman sitting behind my desk with the mask in her hand stole the air from my lungs. I couldn’t hide the truth any longer. I realized there would’ve never been a perfect moment to reveal that I was Angelo, her mysterious benefactor. Chasing her through the woods was never something I’d consider, but when she mentioned that bastard Ivan, something feral inside me snapped.
I knew I’d uttered some painfully hurtful things to her. Naturally, I would never inflict physical harm. I wanted to love her, protect her, build a life with her.
After Claire left the house, I heard a noise coming from down the hall and headed into the bathroom. I discovered my white dress shirt. The one she’d worn crumpled and stuffed in the toilet. The moment I pulled it out, water spilled over the rim, a clear sign that Claire despised me.
Leaning forward in the black leather chair in front of the stage, I drew on my cigar as Jasmine twisted on the pole. Her leg curled around the top, brown hair swinging free.
“I can finish early for you, Vino,” she shouted over the blaring music.
“No,” I replied, motioning for her to continue.
She clutched the base of the pole, bending her legs forward until her stilettos met the stage, her porcelain breasts jiggling with each movement.
“Vino,” she purred, slipping off the stage in nothing but a pair of yellow thongs. “I haven’t seen you in months. What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to shake her hips seductively in front of me.
I grabbed her waist and moved her aside. “I’m here to watch the show, not to fuck you,” I said, stretching back in the chair.
I took a sip of whiskey as I thought about how the only woman I truly wanted was
Claire—though she clearly wanted nothing to do with me.
“Nothing personal, Jasmine. I just want to be left alone.”
“I’ve always been your stress reliever,” she cooed.
“You heard him. Get lost,” my brother barked, sitting beside me.
She rolled her gray eyes, tossed her brown hair over her shoulder, and walked away.
“You can’t just sit here drowning your sorrows in whiskey. We have a war to manage,” Vince said.
“I know, Vince. I just needed this week to think and release my frustrations. I messed up.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Yeah, you screwed up. But you’ll fix it. She loves you.”
I met his gaze. “I’m pretty sure Claire’s pregnant with my baby.”
His brows rose.
My voice was low as I continued, “She never wanted a baby. I tampered with her birth control to get her pregnant. Now I believe she’s carrying my heir.”
My brother covered his face. “You’ve completely lost it when it comes to Claire.”
“She knew I wanted us to have a child, but she kept insisting we wait until after marriage. Her career was always her top priority. I’m fine taking care of our child while she works.”
“Explain that to her,” he suggested.
I exhaled deeply. “Yeah, I will. I was just trying to give her another week alone before bringing her back. We’re getting married soon.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“Fuck yeah. I’m shoving that engagement ring right back on her fucking finger,” I declared, taking a long drag from my cigar.
“Porsha mentioned that Claire hasn’t been acting like herself lately.”
I looked over at my brother. “Are you fucking her assistant?”
“It’s not exactly like that. I met Porsha years ago. We had a one-nightstand. Maybe it wasn’t a one nightstand. More like we slept together off and on while we were in college. Then she vanished from my life, and I moved on. I was shocked to see her at the party that night. We ended up hooking up a few more times.” He smirked like he was reminiscing on a special moment.
“When we’re together, nothing else matters. Our connection is incredibly strong. I don’t want to be without her. She’s dealing with her own issues, though, and I’m trying to stay in her life this time, but she’s pushing me away again. I make do with our text exchanges throughout the day. Once this war is over, I plan to dig deeper into her life and make her mine. But something tells me it won’t be easy. She’s definitely keeping something from me.”
I gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “I’m here for you. Just let me know what you need.”
He grinned. “I will.”
I sat in the center of the warehouse, chest against the back of the chair. My boots resting on a plastic sheet. I watched one of Michelangelo’s men slump lifelessly in the seat across from me.
His body drenched in blood and teetering on the brink of death. It was clear my enemy was running low on manpower. He’d soon have to hire replacements. If only he’d leave his fucking mansion, my brother and I could snatch his ass up.
I peeled off my bloody leather glove and tapped one of the recent phone numbers I called on my burner phone, sitting on the steel table.
“Hello, Vino,” came Amadeo’s biting tone.
“Something the fucking matter?” I asked, anger heavy in my voice.
“Yes, boss. Claire hates me and Renato. She feels we betrayed her.”
I frowned. “Do you think you betrayed her?”
“Vino, yes. But my loyalty is with the Romano family, which she’ll soon be a part of.”
I sighed. “In time, she’ll forgive you guys. Me, on the other hand, I’m not so sure.”
“Boss, she cries herself to sleep every night.”
My heart sank. I had crushed her spirit, dimming the light in her eyes.
“She refuses to go to the condo. I had a team working around the clock installing a shower in her bathroom at the warehouse because she said she was tired of living out of a suitcase at the hotel.”
“There are guards at the warehouse around the clock. That’s probably the safest place for her right now.”
Not having her in my bed every night had turned me into an even more relentless killing machine. I barely slept.
“Did she go to the pharmacy or see a doctor?” I asked.
Silence.
“This morning, she had us take her to a clinic that specializes in… abortions.”
Heat roared through my veins. I yanked the butcher knife from the table and drove it into the top of the man’s skull. His body jerked once, twice, then went still.
Claire had aborted our baby. Damn.
“Stay on high alert,” I snarled into the phone. “I’m flying to Russia in three days.”
I ended the call and rose to my full height. One hand closed around the edge of the steel table; with a roar, I threw it across the room. It smashed into the far wall, metal shrieking on concrete.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screamed, my voice tearing through the air as tears streamed down my face and spit sprayed in every direction. I collapsed to my knees, the world spinning in chaos around me.
“What have I done?” The fury within me was a raging inferno, consuming every part of me as the brutal reality that she had killed our child clawed at my soul.
My fists banged on the concrete floor. I’d driven her to it. Anger and guilt warred inside me. I’d brought her into this underworld of blood and vengeance.
The warehouse lights blurred as I fought the crushing weight of guilt and fury.
Hopefully, before I drag her down the aisle, I’d be in a better place mentally. I wasn’t sure how to fix things between us. Would we end up sharing a house we couldn’t call a home and barely speaking to one another? When I returned from Russia, I knew I’d have to move past the hurt and try to rebuild our relationship.