Ruthless Reign (Steel Roses Motorcycle Club #5)

1. Julia

1

JULIA

I stared at the paperwork on the table in front of me, the words blurring as I scrambled to catch up to what my lawyer, Angelo, said.

“If the marriage were to be dissolved, my client would walk with all of the assets she had coming into the arrangement.” He scribbled something into the margins of the contract before glancing up at the other people across the room.

“That won’t be necessary,” my brother, Leo, said. He tapped his forefinger to his lips and looked at me before shifting his focus to my betrothed. “Caputis do not believe in divorce.”

“Nevertheless,” Angelo continued, “this is to protect your investment…and Julia.”

I squirmed as he added my name at the last second, like I was an afterthought in this charade, like I didn’t matter more than what my name would do for us in this situation.

Leo pursed his lips and nodded. Angelo went on, reading the rest of the legal jargon that would dictate the entirety of my life from here. My attention drifted to the heavily tattooed man next to the other lawyer.

Roman “Bear” Montgomery. My affianced.

At first glance, he was beautiful. He had dark hair, deep, soulful brown eyes, and a jaw cut from marble. But I knew the truth. He was a monster, a villain from a children’s fairy tale. He’d been named the acting president of the Steel Roses Motorcycle Club and, as such, my family’s sworn enemy.

That was until my brother allied with him two months ago. Leo had been captured by the bastards last year, and now that he’d sobered up and gotten to know them better, he thought he could end the bloodshed between our families with a blessed union.

This was how we found ourselves in this drab conference room, decked out with lawyers, going through the technicalities of a relationship that had been forged in hatred and decades of shared animosity.

Roman caught me staring, and I quickly averted my gaze, but not before I saw him scowling and narrowing his eyes.

What did he see when he looked at me? Was I only the Caputi princess to him? Or did he know how I seethed with my own vengeance? Did he know how badly I wanted to take down my aunt for what she’d done to me? That the only reason I’d agreed to this farce was because I hated her more than I could ever hate anyone else, except for maybe my father. Did he know about the secret plans I’d made since Gabriella attacked the Roses two months ago?

Of course, those schemes were superseded by my want for peace. No one else needed to die for this useless blood feud. It was time for it to be over, and I’d do whatever I could to help that along. If I happened to get revenge in the process, well, what a happy coincidence that would be.

“Section four, subsection three, paragraph six,” Angelo said. “Cohabitation.”

I took a deep breath as I prepared myself for this battle. Roman and Leo both wanted me to reside in Madison County. They believed it was safer for me, especially after Gabriella found out I’d been spying for the Roses and she set her men to beat me. The bruises on my face had only just gone away, but I didn’t see how I could continue to be of any use from such a distance.

The information I’d given to the Roses had gotten them this far. How would they stage a coup without someone on the inside? Of course, how effective could I be now that my cover had been blown?

I still had family members that were against Gabriella. I had cousins and uncles willing to push her out in favor of someone else. But my brother had insisted we would figure it out, and if I needed to contact them, I should do so with a burner phone from the comfort of Roses territory. It would be harder for her to get to me there.

“We will live at my house,” Roman said. “In Madison.”

Leo scoffed and picked at imaginary lint on his suit. “I’ve seen your house. How do you propose to make a Caputi princess happy in such a hovel?”

Roman shifted and set a penetrating gaze on my sibling. “As opposed to some drug den easily infiltrated by anyone with half a brain? Or perhaps you mean the Rose house currently given to you as charity?”

The Roses had snatched my brother out of his mansion on the Eastern Shore one night when he’d been having a drug party. He’d been so high, he didn’t know what had happened to him until two weeks later when most of that nasty stuff was out of his system. Since then, he’d been living in one of the Rose houses, trying to set up his takeover from there to avoid our aunt. Eventually, he’d have to go home. He’d have to make an appearance on Caputi territory to show the bosses he was a strong leader, that he could undermine Gabriella and steal back his throne. He’d have to get the rest of the family on board first, and I wasn’t sure he had the votes.

No, they wanted someone else, someone made of sterner stuff, someone with a guaranteed sober mind.

“Do you have the money to purchase something more suitable?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow. But the question was rhetorical. Since Gabriella had found out about my betrayal, she’d seized control of my family’s estate. I only had what I’d managed to siphon off in the years leading up to it. It wasn’t a small sum, but it also wasn’t enough to fund the life Leo and I had grown accustomed to.

“A house is a house, Leo,” I said to him in Italian.

“Not for my only sister,” he replied. “You deserve the best.”

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t be selling me off to this godless mongrel.”

“Hey, I believe in God,” Roman cut in with perfect pronunciation of my native tongue.

“I’ve already agreed to go along with this.” I rolled my eyes, muttering obscenities to myself. “I’ll live in whatever shack my new husband deems appropriate for his bride.”

“My house is perfect for two people,” he said. “It’s on a mountain, and it overlooks the city. You’ll be safe there.”

Out of one monster’s land, into another.

“It’s settled,” said Roman’s lawyer, Berkshire. “Ms. Caputi will reside at Mr. Montgomery’s residence until further accommodations can be agreed upon.”

Angelo checked that item off before flipping the page. “Section five, subsection two, paragraph three—last name.”

“Caputi,” I said at the same time Leo and Roman said, “Montgomery.”

Shocked but desperate to hide it, I looked at my brother with murder in my eyes.

“This is an alliance,” Leo said. “You must play the part if anyone is to believe it.”

I took a deep breath to calm the rising fury in my gut, knowing it would get me nowhere. My life had always been rooted in doing whatever the men around me deemed appropriate. My uncle, Benito, had been the Caputi boss before he died, and my father, Giuseppe, had been his brother and most trusted adviser. I’d had to act a certain way, dress a certain way, conduct myself a certain way to appease their conservative mentality, no matter what it cost me. This would be no different.

“Perhaps you’d be open to a compromise?” Roman said, looking directly at me. “Caputi-Montgomery?”

Ugh, what a mouthful.

I already had four middle names, but perhaps this was Roman extending a tiny olive branch over the vast divide between us.

“Thank you,” I said. “Montgomery is fine.”

Roman cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and gave Berkshire a glance of approval.

“Okay,” Angelo said. “That brings us to the next section. Procreation.”

I sighed, knowing this was coming.

“What?” Roman said, leaning forward, blinking incredulously. “What about it?”

“You will produce a child within a year,” Leo said, his tone calm and dignified despite how manipulative this whole thing was.

Roman laughed and shook his head. “You must be joking.”

“I am not,” Leo continued. “The only way this works is if Rose and Caputi blood are mixed. We need to be family. A child will go a long way to smooth over any…opposition…on both sides.”

“There is already a child of both Caputi and Rose blood,” Roman said. “And surprise, surprise, she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Alba did not grow up in the Caputi family. Except for a few individuals, no one else knows she exists.” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Besides, everyone loves babies.”

Roman blew out a breath and shook his head with a sarcastic laugh. “Fucking hell.”

“Language,” Leo said. “Especially in front of my sister.”

“Your sister has said worse to me personally.” Roman looked at me with a sly smirk, and I bit back a grin at the thought of the first time I’d ever met him. He’d been keeping Leo prisoner for months, and my brother looked like hell. I’d read Roman the riot act for not taking better care of him.

“Nevertheless,” Leo said. “Show some respect.”

“You’re okay with this?” Roman asked, brown gaze trained on me. “Be honest. If you’re not, we’ll shut it down.”

“Julia will do—” Leo started.

“I’m not talking to you,” Roman interrupted. “You’re not the one I have to fuck, are you?”

I bit my lip as Leo adjusted his hips and let out a low growl of frustration.

None of this was how I’d ever imagined my life would go. Once upon a time, I’d been in love with a beautiful boy from my high school, Vittori. But he was a Morelli, and therefore, not fit for a Caputi. When my father learned we were together, he quickly disposed of my beloved and shattered my heart. After that had been Hugo. From the moment I met him, I had stars in my eyes. I’d always thought we’d run away together and have six kids by the time I was thirty. Now, I knew better.

I was cursed to have a violent family, violent blood. Any man who dared love me would need to be bulletproof lest he end up a casualty of my wretched relatives and my family’s strict moral code. It was my burden to bear for all the sins the Caputis had committed. After Vittori and Hugo, I’d promised to never love again.

Now I stared down the barrel of my thirty-first birthday. They were dead, and I hadn’t even been married. Hell, I’d barely been bedded properly. I wasn’t a virgin, but I’d been raised a good Catholic woman. Both of my previous lovers were incredibly conservative and entirely too scared of my brothers.

When Leo first proposed this asinine idea of wedding Roman Montgomery, he’d convinced me by suggesting Gabriella would give me to an underboss’s son. If I’d been less conniving about maneuvering myself in other directions, it would have already happened.

After Alba’s mother died/ran away, I became the eldest Caputi princess. A rare jewel. Worth more than a marriage of convenience to some underboss’s dusty boy. So, I thought, “Fine. Why not marry for an alliance? Why not end the war?” Never mind they’d killed my eldest brother, Julian. Never mind Roman’s hands were so soaked in Caputi blood, it might as well be dripping from every venom-laced move he made.

Could I push this aside for the sake of my family? Could I lie back and think of Italy anytime I had to couple with him?

He wasn’t the ugliest guy I’d ever met, nor was he the most violent. Sex with him might even be enjoyable…if I got over the fact he was a Rose and a Montgomery and my family’s worst enemy. I’d never love him, but maybe that was the point. After all, how upset would I be when he died if I never cared about him to begin with?

“A child within a year,” I said with a nod.

Roman made a low noise of disbelief and leaned back in his seat, running the length of me with an assessing gaze. “Is there nothing you won’t do for your brother?”

Not just my brother, but the principle. I wanted peace. I wanted the curse to end. I wanted this madness to stop.

“You have three siblings of your own, do you not?” I said. “Isn’t that why you’re sitting at this table?”

He considered this before asking, “And if we can’t produce a child? Lots of couples have problems with infertility.”

“If that is the case,” Leo said, “Julia has enough sense to seek a doctor. You must make an effort, understand? There can be no pretending in this marriage. Commitment is essential. There must be a true alliance.”

“Fine,” I said, raising an eyebrow at Roman.

“Fine,” he repeated.

“Wonderful,” Angelo said, moving his pen down to the next paragraph. “This coincides nicely with section seven, subsection two, paragraph two—infidelity.”

I steeled myself against Roman’s reaction or lack thereof. Based on how my previous relationships had worked out, he could rest assured I wouldn’t be interested in anyone else. But I knew how these biker men were—only enough sense to operate their brains or their dicks at one time but not both.

“That won’t be a problem,” Roman said, shaking his head. “I barely have time for this relationship, much less anyone else.”

“Regardless,” Leo said, “should it be found out that you’ve been unfaithful, Julia will be within her rights to seek restitution in the form of seventy percent of assets gained, not to mention alimony and a trust for any children.”

Roman snorted and glanced at me. “And is the reverse true as well? Will I have to chase off any Caputi men who come sniffing around my property?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I tilted my chin up and stared at him with every ounce of defiance I could muster, tempering my reaction to being associated with his… property . “I likewise do not have the time, patience, or desire for multiple lovers.”

Roman ran his perfect pink tongue over his lips. “Fine.”

“Fine,” I agreed.

“Great,” Angelo concluded, flipping the pages of our contract closed. “We have no further arguments.”

“We agree,” Berkshire said before reaching for another stack of papers and grabbing the one on top. He handed it to Roman and pointed at a spot on the bottom. My betrothed picked up a pen, signed it, and pushed it across the table to me.

The marriage certificate.

We’d agreed to the contract, and now came the final step. After this, there was no going back. I picked up my pen and glanced at Roman one last time, steeling myself against the ever-simmering rage in my belly for him and everything he stood for.

Then, for the first time, a hint of kindness echoed out of his gaze, like he sympathized with me, like I could see deep down to his soul and it was good and sweet and generous. Perhaps this marriage wouldn’t be as horrible as I feared. Perhaps there could be a solid foundation to our relationship, however screwed up and ridiculous as it began.

I signed my life away right next to Roman’s.

“By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Virginia,” Angelo said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations.”

Growing up in a family constantly feuding with another, I’d often wondered what I would do to end it. What price would I be willing to pay to stop the bloodshed? Where was the line between doing enough and doing too much?

I loved my family. I was proud to be a Caputi. But when I learned my father had been responsible for Vittori’s death, I started plotting a way out. Hugo and I nearly made it. I’d almost gotten free. But Gabriella caught up to us, and after that…well…I’d been willing to make a deal with the devil to topple her from the throne. For years I had pondered these things, and as I drove to my new husband’s house with whatever I could salvage from my old life, I still didn’t know the solution. I prayed I’d made the right call.

I had lived in mansions for most of my thirty-one years. Between expansive townhomes in the heart of DC and the enormous sprawling houses in Potomac, my family had spared no expense raising my brothers and me in the lap of luxury. My wardrobe alone could have funded a small nation’s economy for a decade.

But now Gabriella controlled my estate, and I’d been cut off from everything. My closest cousins, Della and Chesco, had managed to smuggle a few sentimental items—my arsenal of guns and some family photos—but that was it. Anything I brought with me had been recently purchased with my own secret funds, something not even Leo knew about.

This new arrangement came with the harsh smack of reality when my driver pulled up in front of Roman’s two-story cabin almost a month after we signed the contract. There had been legal issues to sort out and trusts to be formed, etc. Now that it was all finalized, I took a deep breath and steeled myself against my new life.

Roman hadn’t lied. The residence was in the mountains, surrounded by enough woods to ensure our privacy, complete with a massive wraparound porch on both levels and a bench swing next to the front door.

Compared to the opulence I’d grown up with, this reeked of rustic poverty. I silently regretted agreeing to live here in the contract and wished I had fought harder to make him purchase something more opulent. Of course, if I didn’t have the money for that, why did I believe he would?

“Are you sure this is the right address?” my driver, Williams, asked.

Roman walked out the front door wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, one hand in his pocket and a cup of coffee in the other. I sighed.

“This is the one.” I swallowed against a dry throat as Williams put the car into park and opened the driver’s door. But Roman was already walking toward the vehicle, and when they met at the back door, Roman clapped Williams on the shoulder and opened the door for me. He held his hand out, as if he meant to help me.

I ignored it and climbed out on unsteady heels, gripping my purse to my person like he might snatch it away from me.

“Your movers already came and left,” Roman said. “Your room is mostly unpacked.”

Mostly. They wouldn’t have touched my personal effects or my weapons. No, those were specifically for me to unload alone…once my husband had gone to bed.

“Thank you, Williams,” I said to my driver, giving him a pleasant nod and a smile. “That will be all for now.”

“Take care, miss,” he said before circling the vehicle again to the driver’s seat, leaving me alone with my husband. I followed Roman up the wooden stairs and across the porch into the house, where I froze and glanced around. The foyer gave way to a great room with a kitchen in one corner, the dining area next to that, and the living area on the opposite side next to a wood-burning fireplace. The walls had been painted a neutral shade of beige, but there were no paintings or artwork. The drab furniture indicated a bachelor living on his own—hand-me-down accoutrement with no style whatsoever.

Just as I expected.

Leo told me Roman had never had a serious relationship and had lived alone for most of his adult life. Being a mechanic and leading a gang of murderous bikers must have taken up so much time as to keep him from properly decorating the space. It felt cold and unwelcoming, and I clenched my fingers around my bag as he led me farther inside.

“Kitchen, dining room, living room, the bathroom’s through there.” He pointed around the corner, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grimacing. I could only imagine what that looked like. “Your room is upstairs.”

I followed Roman to the right, grabbing the railing to keep myself steady on shaking knees as I climbed the steps to the second floor. There was another bathroom at the end of the hall with two doors on either side in front of it.

“This one is me,” he said, gesturing to the one immediately at the top of the staircase. “And this”—he opened the door opposite his room and clicked on the light—“is you.”

I stepped inside and assessed the damage. My luggage sat in a far corner, already emptied by the movers I’d hired. My bed had been made in the center of the room and two dressers stood on the opposite wall. My closet at home was two times the size of this space, but alas. My life had become a miserable train wreck, and now I paid the piper.

Staring at these meek surroundings, I told myself this was the sacrifice I’d made for the good of my family. I wanted this war to end. I didn’t want to lose any more of my loved ones, and if I had to live in this hovel to prove it, I would. I bit my bottom lip and moved to the French doors opposite the main door, holding back a gasp at the view.

Because the house was so high up, we looked down into the valley of Madison County below. Beyond that, the mountainous skyline of western Virginia rose out of the horizon. The deck wrapped around this side of the house, and I envisioned myself taking coffee out here every morning for a better view. Sure, we had outdoor patios at the Caputi estate, but this…well, this almost made it all worth it.

“I know it’s probably not what you’re used to,” Roman said from his spot in the entrance, running his hands back through his hair. “But I promise you, it’s safe. No one will harm you here.”

I’d heard that before from every member of my family, including my aunt. In the end, I decided the only one who could keep me safe was me. Which was why there was an army’s worth of guns and ammo in one of those suitcases and my favorite knife in my garter belt under my dress. I even slept with it under my pillow.

“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile before turning to the patio windows. “I’m sure this is…sufficient.”

Roman pushed upright and cleared his throat. “I have to go to the clubhouse in about an hour. There’s a session tonight and I need to be there.”

“Right.” Because he was the president. The president of my enemy. The proverbial king. He’d have to lead the great fight, and now that he had his prize in the form of a Caputi princess, my brother would likely be there as well.

“Right,” he said. “You should come, too.”

I’d rather swim through hot garbage.

I swallowed against a dry throat, remembering the real reason I was here, and licked my lips, willing myself to agree.

When I said nothing, he narrowed his brown eyes and tried a different tactic. “It would look much better if we put on a united front.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself. “United.”

“Yes,” he said. “The Caputis are not the only ones who might have a problem with our marriage…our alliance. There are those within the Roses that want you all dead.”

I tsked through my teeth and rolled my eyes, murmuring in Italian. “Despicable, rotten villains. Who will they kill next? Every Caputi child?”

“Yes,” Roman answered in the same language. “If they have their way.”

I’d forgotten he could speak my mother tongue, and a small pulse in my heart nearly had me softening toward him. Nearly.

“ Where did you learn to speak Italian?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. His accent could use some work, but I wouldn’t hold that against him.

“I have an ear for languages,” he said with a shrug. “I know German, French, Spanish, and Portuguese as well. My high school teacher called me a savant, said I should go work for the CIA.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighed and glanced around, crossing his arms. “Look, I promised to protect you, and the sooner the club sees us together, the sooner they’ll get used to it.”

I nodded, remembering all of the other conditions of our marriage. Living together and changing my name had only been two points of contention. The other… I shivered, wondering when we would have to fulfill that request. Would he expect it tonight? Would he hold me down and force himself on me while I closed my eyes and pretended to be somewhere else?

No, he didn’t seem the type. But then again, how well did anyone know anyone? I’d never thought my father would break my heart, that Gabriella would set her goons on me. I never thought men I’d known my entire life would blindly follow her order to beat me within an inch of my life.

“Will we have to take the deathtrap there?” I raised my chin, implying that I would sooner walk in my six-inch heels than get on the back of his motorcycle.

“You mean the bike?” He laughed. “Well, yeah. I’m the president of a motorcycle club.”

I sucked in air through my teeth. “You’d have to knock me out and throw me over your shoulder before I’ll ride on one of those despicable machines.”

“That can be arranged.” His cheeks flushed, and I could tell I was getting to him. My heart raced at the thought, my fingers itching to curl into fists.

“And where would your precious alliance be then?” I sighed. “Barely married and already planning my demise. How…predictable.”

“Trust me, wife,” he said, taking a few steps inside the room, closing the distance between us so I had to stare up at his considerable height. Despite my heels, he still towered over me. “If I wanted to get rid of you, you’d already be dead.”

“Trust me, husband,” I replied, mocking his tone. “The sentiment is mutual.”

“A stalemate it is then.”

“So it seems.” I took a deep breath, ignoring the enticing appeal of his cologne and deodorant and whatever else made his scent so masculine. The first time I’d met him, we had fought over his negligent treatment of my brother. I remembered how passionate he was as he argued with me in Italian, how he’d stood firm against me while I banged on his chest and shoved at his shoulders. He took it all with a gleam in his eye, like he enjoyed getting a rise out of me as much as I did to him. It made my blood run hot for reasons I didn’t care to examine. Nor would I ever.

This wasn’t about attraction. This was about an alliance, a compromise. But I’d always thought it was easier to attract flies with honey.

“Fine, I will accompany you to your club meeting,” I said, “as long as you drive me in your truck. If not, I can call Williams?—”

“We’ll take the truck.” He pulled one side of his mouth into an annoyingly beautiful smirk, his eyes twinkling with victory. “We leave in an hour.”

“Is that all, husband?” I asked, trying to put as much animosity into that one question as I could. If I wasn’t going to have an easy marriage to my worst enemy, neither would he.

He snorted and shook his head while he turned toward the hallway. “That’s all, wife.”

The word came out like he was trying to wipe excrement off his shoe.

Roman grabbed the door, shut it, and left me alone in my miserable little room.