Salvatore

20. Salvatore

20

SALVATORE

We’re back in Bishop’s rental and a few blocks down the road when another text notification vibrates my watch.

Matthew

What the fuck are you doing?

It only takes two more minutes for the next to arrive.

Remy

Maybe bringing Ivy up here isn’t the best idea. Lorenzo is going postal.

I scowl at the road ahead, pissed at how long it took for my younger brother to realize the severity of the situation. He should’ve predicted this outcome given he’s crawled so far up our uncle’s ass he could use the old man as a puppet.

“Everything okay?” Ivy asks from the passenger seat.

I keep my mouth shut, knowing full well my sibling animosity will spill out if given the chance.

“That good, huh?” She focuses out her side window, not bothering to press further as we travel along Route 40 East toward the outskirts of the city.

My watch vibrates again.

Matthew

I’m coming down to get you. You’d better not be fucking in the back seat.

Ten minutes later.

Matthew

I should’ve known you’d bail without a thought to leaving us in this mess. Right on brand, you worthless motherfucker.

Given the amount of times my siblings have discredited me, you’d think my resentment for the accusations would’ve worn off.

No such luck.

“They’ve noticed we’re gone?” Ivy speaks to the window. “Will they come after us?”

I clench the steering wheel. “We’re not on the run from my family.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I don’t fucking run. From anyone. For anyone. “Running implies fear, Ivy, which I don’t have.”

“How mentally stable of you,” she drawls. “But just so you know, I have enough for both of us, which is why I’d still really appreciate knowing where the hell we’re going.”

“The airport.” I take the exit onto Eastern Boulevard.

“And then?” She turns to face me, those all-consuming eyes eating me the fuck up.

“I have a place outside Charlottesville. You can hide there for a while.”

“Charlottesville? How long will I have to wait at the airport for a direct flight at this time of night? Someone will find?—”

“Private airport. Non-commercial flight.”

Her eyes narrow. “You have a jet?”

“Helicopter.”

Her brows raise. “Color me impressed.”

I scoff. “Well, it’s nice to know aviation is what finally clenched the deal.”

She huffs a half-hearted laugh, the humor short-lived before she returns her attention outside.

I can feel her uncertainty. Have felt it ever since she found me sitting on her bed in that vulgar pink room of torture. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” she asks.

“What they did to you.”

She stiffens, her height increasing at least an inch. “Hard pass.”

“Once we’re settled I can get you medical attention. I’ll arrange whatever you need.” Clothes. Food. Relentless vengeance.

I can’t exactly bring those three men back to life to kill them more viciously, but I can sure as fuck figure out how to end Gabriel and her brother in ways that will go down in history.

“I don’t need medical attention.” She shoots me a dry look. “Underwear would be nice though.”

The reminder of my sexual souvenir is a double-edged sword. Am I livid that my actions left her vulnerable when trapped with the most vile of men? Yes. Am I also incapable of ignoring the fact her pussy is bare beneath that torn dress? For the sake of what little humanity I have left, I’ll plead the fifth.

I navigate to the private airport and find a parking space close to the gates. The lot is mostly empty given it’s almost two in the morning, apart from what I assume are the staff necessary to get us off the ground. The area is dotted with large structural hangers, most dark and shadowed, with one casting a dim glow of illumination through its open doors, while the rest of the lot remains bathed in moonlight.

I kill the engine as my watch vibrates again, this time longer, with an incoming call— Lorenzo.

I release my belt and open my door. “I need to take this.”

I climb out and connect the call, anticipating a verbal onslaught, but given Lorenzo’s pension for hiding behind a sickeningly calm facade, I shouldn’t be surprised by the deathly silence. “I’ll explain once I get her somewhere safe.”

“You will explain now ,” he snarls, his Italian accent cutting. “You will tell me exactly why you put the family at risk by interfering with cartel business.”

“The cartel don’t know we were involved.”

“ No ?” he snaps. “Because you wore baseball caps and bandanas? It does not take rocket science, Salvatore . ”

“I thought you’d be pleased. Don’t you have a soft spot for Olivia Pelosi? It’s her best friend we rescued.”

“ Gesù Cristo! It is Gabriel Rodriguez’s daughter, you brainless fool.”

I gnash my teeth, hating how the insult feels eerily reminiscent to those my father leveled on me incessantly.

“You will bring her back here right now,” Lorenzo demands.

The passenger door to Bishop’s car opens and Ivy climbs out.

“That’s not going to happen.” I watch her walk toward me cautiously, her dress in tatters, her feet bare against the asphalt. “It also doesn’t take rocket science to know exactly what you’ll do to her.”

“ Mio dio ,” he snarls. “I swear to the Virgin Mary, Salvatore, if you don’t bring her back here?—”

“I’m not fucking bringing her back. Even if you weren’t a threat, the cartel will have eyes on your building by now if they think we’re to blame.”

Lorenzo mutters a string of biting Italian under his breath as she stops before me, brows pinched, eyes questioning in the moonlight.

“We cannot be aligned with this,” he spews. “You’re creating chaos and unnecessary bloodshed.”

“It was necessary.”

“Because of Olivia Pelosi?” he scoffs. “I think not. It wasn’t that long ago you wanted her dead.” True . “This is about Gabriel’s daughter. Do you think I’m unaware of the time you’ve already spent with her?”

“You mean when I was getting to the bottom of why we were moving in the same circles as someone with her lineage? Would you have preferred if I pushed that liability to the side?”

“I would’ve preferred if you didn’t shove your dick inside it. Do not lie to me and tell me you did this for your brother’s love of Olivia. Knowing your passion for upheaval, I bet your interest is because you finally found a woman who is as toxic for you as your own thoughts.”

I cut my gaze from Ivy and smile harshly into the darkness. The old bastard might have a point.

“You still have so much to learn, figlio ,” he sneers. “But we will discuss it in person. For now, you will take her to Virginia Beach?—”

“For her to be detained by your?—”

“ Take her . I don’t think you want to learn just how easily your brothers will turn against you to do my bidding.” He stabs the barb through my chest with deadly accuracy. “I vow she will be safe on my property. You have my word.”

“My father would’ve promised the same thing.”

“I am not your father.” The anger lessens in his voice. “I thought I had already proven this, but evidently your trust is harder to earn than that of your siblings.”

No shit. We may have lived under the same roof, but the way we were raised was worlds apart.

“Take her,” Lorenzo repeats. “I will advise Catarina to prepare for your arrival. And once Gabriel’s daughter is safely inside the confines of my home, you will return to discuss this mess. Is that clear?”

Restrictions have never worked well on me. Dictatorship either. Problem is, there’s only so far I can push my uncle and I have a feeling he’s currently teetering on the edge of the cliff.

“I said—is that clear?” he cuts out.

“It is,” I snarl.

“Good. I will expect your return before sunrise.”

I grind my teeth. “And I expect that you’re aware of what it will mean if you go back on your word.”

The call disconnects, leaving my statement unanswered.

Son of a bitch . I clench a fist, my jaw locked tight enough to crack molars.

“Is everything okay?” Ivy blinks up at me, her gorgeous face leveled with unease.

“Yeah.” I step around her and start for the gates leading onto the tarmac. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

We’re in the air within fifteen minutes.

It takes another hour-twenty-five to arrive at Virginia Beach.

We don’t talk on the flight. It’s too loud, even with the noise-cancelling headphones, but I suspect the waning adrenaline has her in the same state of punishing exhaustion that’s curling me in its grip.

I’m the first to disembark once we land, extending my hand to assist her out.

She glances around the airfield as the chopper blades circle ahead, her expression filled with uncertainty.

“ This isn’t Charlottesville ,” she yells over the raucous sound.

I don’t bother competing with the commotion. I usher her safely in the back of the waiting SUV with one of Lorenzo’s guards driving us across town.

“Salvatore, why didn’t we go to Charlottesville?”

“Lorenzo suggested I put you up at his place.”

The warmth of her complexion turns ashen in the car’s darkened interior. “You sold me out?”

“No. I weighed our options and found this to be a better choice.”

Her attention darts to the door handle. She’s clearly weighing a quick escape.

“Don’t fucking think about it.” I don’t care if I’m jumping at shadows. I release her belt and grab her waist, sliding her along the bench seat toward me, her squeal ignored as I drag her onto my lap. “You’ll be safe.”

“Sure I will.” She shoves at my arms. “Get your hands off me.”

I hold tighter, leaning my mouth close to her ear. “It’s been a long day, troublemaker, and the way you’re wiggling your ass against my crotch isn’t helping ease the situation.”

She levels me with a malicious stare. “I swear to God, if you get hard?—”

“Then maybe stop dry-humping my dick when I know you’re not wearing any panties.”

She stills, her expression slackening for the briefest second before rage glares back at me. “I’m going to?—”

“I’ve pissed off Lorenzo,” I cut her off, too tired to fight with her. “And as the saying goes, you catch more flies with honey. So we’re going to do as he requested and hide you on his property.”

She leans closer, right in my face, her nose almost touching mine. “I can assure you I’d catch more flies with your rotting corpse, Sally .”

I press my lips shut, battling the mindless insurgence of humor that always seems to be so easily achieved by that sassy mouth. Even in my teenage years nobody would’ve dared contort my name into something as offensive as Sally. Yet this crazy wildfire sits atop my hardening cock, completely at my mercy, and attempts to throw a jab at me that only endeavors to increase my lust.

“You need to tell me what the hell is going on,” she demands. “Why did you even rescue me? Is this about you using the funeral home for evidence disposal? Am I a bargaining chip now that the cartel know?”

The cartel fucking know ?

Her eyes narrow. “You weren’t aware of their insight.”

“No,” I grate. “How did you find out?”

“Gabriel. He was fishing for information and assumed I was involved. Now it makes a hell of a lot of sense as to why a notorious criminal like your brother would be all over my obsessively introverted best friend. Remy’s using her for the cremator.”

“That would definitely make the situation more acceptable, but unfortunately, no. He has a legitimately unhinged infatuation with Olivia.” One I’m beginning to understand every time I’m in Ivy’s vicinity. “What you see between them is real.”

Those narrowed eyes roll with contempt. “Great,” she mutters.

This time I don’t hold back my grin. Her sarcasm is fucking addictive.

I could live off of it. Gorge on it.

“But I’m assuming the agreement is still a thing. Am I also wrong in assuming you plan to use me against the cartel to keep the arrangement quiet?” she asks. “Because I’ve told you before, I can’t be used as bargaining power. I’m of no value to them.”

I raise a hand, gliding the back of my knuckles just below the grazed skin of her cheek. “I can see that.”

She winces and a watery tinge enters her eyes as she makes to push from my lap.

“Don’t.” I halt her escape with a tight arm around her waist. “I’m not the person that deserves your aggression.”

“Well, you’re the only one here.” She shoves me with a sniff. “And I’ve got a pent-up breakdown that needs an outlet.”

I can be that for her—an outlet, a punching bag. Hell, I’d let her chain me to a cellar floor and spit on me if she was that way inclined. I’ve sacrificed bigger parts of myself for people far less worthy.

“You know we’re alike, me and you.” I keep my arm locked around her as she makes a half-hearted effort to push at my chest. “Both betrayed by our fathers and ostracized from our own families.”

“And both in need of more therapy than a lifetime could possibly supply.” She wiggles, attempting to raise from my lap right before the driver takes a turn and sends her toppling back onto her ass.

I smirk. “Therapy isn’t for me.”

“I know.” She gives me a scathing look. “It shows.”

Fuck this woman and her incredibly perfect mouth. I don’t get how a few pithy remarks can have me acting as if I’m a dog on a leash, but that’s exactly how it feels—like I’m tethered to her, always eagerly anticipating another fucking treat.

I graze my fingers over her jaw to her chin and hold her face an inch from mine.

She stiffens, her posture rigid as fear enters her eyes.

I’ve triggered something. Reminded her of a trauma I assume the cartel inflicted.

“I won’t hurt you,” I promise.

Concern stares back at me. “Physically or?—”

“Physically, mentally, or otherwise.” I don’t know where the fucking words come from. They’re not me. Not my wheelhouse. But somehow they’re real. “I started a war for you—for a woman I barely know, for reasons I don’t even understand.”

“You did it for Remy,” she clarifies. “Who was doing it for Olivia.”

No. Not even close.

All my life I’ve done the opposite when it comes to my siblings wants and needs. If they craved peace, I’d give them anarchy. If they wanted loyalty, I’d dish out betrayal.

It was a necessary part of our ecosystem.

I haven’t suddenly become philanthropic.

I trail my thumb over her bottom lip, pausing on the faint outline of a healing cut. “It wasn’t for Remy. He’s hated me for the majority of his life. Much like I assume you’ve hated your own brother.”

She stills, quitting her feigned attempt at freedom.

“Didn’t you take note of the attributes my brothers labelled upon me?” I ask. “Their love isn’t exactly thicker than water.”

“I did. I just…”

It’s my turn to scrutinize her, trying to decipher the mar in her brow. “You just what?”

She squares her shoulders and raises her chin. “I guess I didn’t understand the insults after you risked so much more than they did to save me.”

Something inside me warms.

It’s fucking pathetic, but given how starved my upbringing was for praise, I have to admit the slightest hint of her appreciation is welcomed.

“If I have a talent, it’s knowing how to piss them off.” I drop my hand from her face.

“So you do it on purpose?”

I smirk, but the curve of lips is forced.

“Why?” she whispers.

“That’s a secret that requires a lifelong commitment. Are you ready to promise your future to me, mi bella reina ?”

She cringes.

I’m unsure if it’s due to the future I posed or the nickname that always seems to piss her off. But there’s no escaping either. She is a queen. My queen. At least until I can get her back on her feet.

“I don’t like this.” She lowers her stare to the front of my button-down. “If you’re setting me up, I’ll…”

Whatever she has in mind, I’m eager to witness her retribution. To feel her fury. To taste her wrath. But no. “There’s no setup. Lorenzo has given his word, and I’m the last person he would lie to.”

“And why is that?” She looks up at me from under dark lashes. “Or is that another secret I need to sell my soul for?”

“Maybe.” It’s no secret I’m destined to take over my uncle’s role. It just isn’t something she needs to hear right now.

The car pauses before the gates of Lorenzo’s property. The rigidity returns to her posture. She stares out the window, her expression pinched, her chest rising and falling under deepening breaths.

“Trust me, Ivy. I didn’t go to the effort of rescuing you just to bring you here to die.”

Her throat works over a heavy swallow, her vulnerability doing shitty things to me.

“This place is a better option than Charlottesville. You’ll have security twenty-four-seven. And there’s a live-in house manager who cooks and cleans.”

She ignores me as the vehicle continues along the stretching driveway, passing Lorenzo’s manicured garden full of shadows and silhouettes until we creep closer, the bright security lights surrounding the expansive mansion stretching out to illuminate the roses and thick green shrubbery.

Wide columns frame the entrance of my uncle’s home with tall windows that gleam in front of drawn curtains. It’s a perfectly polished facade for a building hiding insidious secrets and more than a crime or two.

We pull to a stop near the entry, the menagerie of birds in the backyard awakening to announce our arrival with high-pitched squawks as a guard walks toward us from the garden, casual, yet armed and stone-faced.

Ivy opens her mouth, then closes it, her expression pensive.

“What is it?” I rub my thumb along her waist.

She eyes the approaching guard who stops beside my door. “Is this another cage?”

Good question. If I didn’t think she had the intelligence to make the right choice maybe it would be. But for now I’m confident fragility will bend her to my will.

“You can leave if you want to take that risk.” I drag her off my lap to sit on the middle seat, then slide from the car. “I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

She needs to make the decision on her own. To feel like her future is in her own hands otherwise she’ll flee just for the sake of tasting freedom. God knows I would, and I have a feeling Ivy’s independence runs just as deep as mine.

“I’ll be waiting inside once you make the right choice.” I turn to the familiar guard standing in wait. “Give her space. If she wants to leave, let her. Understood?”

He inclines his head. “Yes, sir.”

The demand is as much for Ivy’s sake as it is for my own knowledge—to confirm Lorenzo didn’t give the order to hold her prisoner.

Then I stalk for the house and pretend I don’t give a fuck what decision she makes while navigating a truckload of fucked up adrenaline at the thought of having to chase her down if she flees.

I enter the foyer and leave the front door wide as I continue along the brightly lit hall. The interior is already alive—the lights on, the air smelling of sweet spices.

I reach the expansive open-plan kitchen and living area where Lorenzo’s house manager is dragging a tray of baked goods from the oven.

“Good morning,” the greying woman greets me with way too much enthusiasm coating her Italian accent.

“Most would still consider this night, Catarina.” I pull up a chair at the island counter as she places her tray of cinnamon scrolls before me. “How are you so energetic?”

She smiles, big and bright, further wrinkling the skin around her dark eyes. “I’m always excited to see you. You know I don’t get the chance to entertain guests unless you and Lorenzo are here.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

She chuckles and reaches to turn on the coffee-maker sitting on the counter against the wall. “Yes, even at three in the morning.” She pulls a mug from a drawer and numerous small plates. “Mr. Cappelletti mentioned you would have a woman with you. Was there a change in plans?”

“No.” I eye the hall as the sound of the front door closing carries in the distance. “She’s a little unsettled—that’s all. We need to give her time to adjust.”

The soft pad of footfalls approaches then there Ivy stands, taking up presence in the archway, disheveled and barefoot, her gorgeous face bruised while her shoulders remain broad and strong, denying the vulnerability shrouding her.

I push to my feet and make for the coffee machine, masking the slight disappointment that she didn’t run. “Catarina, this is Ivy, your guest for the unforeseeable future.”

“Oh my.” Catarina gasps in excitement. “ Che bella .”

Yes, even at her lowest, Ivy is undeniably beautiful.

“Your face, dolcezza .” The older woman approaches Ivy with outstretched arms. “What happened?”

“Umm.” Ivy glances at me questioningly.

I ignore her in favor of a caffeine fix. She’s going to have to make herself at home here—she might as well start now.

Her brow furrows in frustration, then she turns her attention back to Catarina with a forced smile. “It was silly, really. I tripped and my face caught my fall.”

“ Oh, cielo .” Catarina grasps at her chest. “You poor thing. Come, come.” She waves Ivy toward the kitchen as I put the coffee-maker to work then turn and rest with my back against the counter. “You must be starving.”

Ivy focuses on the cinnamon scrolls, her brow furrowed. “They look lovely. Thank you. But I, ah…I’ve been living on nothing but fats and sugars for weeks, and I don’t think my stomach can take much more of it.”

Catarina’s face alights as if the rejection is nothing more than a challenge. “Of course.” She hustles for Lorenzo’s huge fridge and pulls the double doors wide. “How about some Greek yogurt with berries and un filo di honey? Or I could make you a salad—carrot, cucumber, spinach—” She riffles through the crisper as Ivy nibbles her bottom lip. “—tomato, avocado. I’ll make a quick balsamic dressing and sarà delizioso .”

“No. I’m fine. Honestly.” Ivy raises her palms in appeal while I grab my coffee from the machine and take a mouthful. “Thank you for offering, but all I really need is somewhere to freshen up and rest.”

Catarina glances at me in subtle outrage. “No food?”

I shrug. “That’s what she said.”

The house manager closes the fridge, her shoulders slumping as if she’s been dealt a mortal blow.

I breathe a laugh into my drink. “Don’t worry. She will be yours to dote over for the unforeseeable future. Lei è di grande importanza. Ti affido il compito di farla sentire benvenuta. ”

“In English please,” Ivy pleads.

I eye her over the rim of my mug and take another mouthful. “I simply stated your well-being is of great importance.”

Catarina beams as if my admission is a proclamation of love. “Let me show you to one of the guest rooms.”

“No need.” I take a final gulp of caffeine and place my mug on the counter. “I’ll do it.” I retrieve my wallet from my pocket and a black card from inside. “You’ll need this.” I slide the credit card across the counter toward the older woman. “It isn’t safe for Ivy to leave the property, so you will have to go out and buy whatever she requires.”

“That would be my pleasure.” Catarina places my card in the pocket of her apron.

“Does that include a phone?” Ivy asks.

I watch her with slowly building annoyance. I’ve never been an impatient man, but having her constantly question my motives is wearing thin. “Did I stutter when I said Catarina will buy whatever you require?”

“ Che maleducato ,” the house manager chastises.

“So I’m allowed to call my friends?” Ivy continues undeterred.

“You can contact whoever you like.” I place my wallet back in my pocket and stride for the hall. “But if you prefer to remain alive I suggest you don’t tell anyone where you are. Not even those you trust. Phones can be tapped and messages intercepted.”

She follows as I lead her down the hall, past the bedroom I occupy when I’m in town, to the one right next door. “You can stay in here.” I reach inside and flick on the light. “There’s an adjoining bathroom that should be stocked with a new toothbrush and essential toiletries to tide you over until Catarina makes it to the store.”

Ivy walks by me into the middle of the room and does a three-sixty visual of her surroundings. But it’s not the ornate dresser, leather wingback chair, or king-size bed that draws her attention. Her gaze is raised to the ceiling.

“There aren’t any cameras in your room.” Her fucking family have a lot to answer for. “You’ll be safe here. Text me once you get a cell.”

Her gaze cuts to mine. “Where will you be?”

“Back in Baltimore. I need to get going.”

“You’re leaving me?” Her eyes flare.

“Catarina will look after you.”

“And the guards?” Her voice hitches. “Will they tuck me in and read me a bedtime story before they smother me with a pillow?”

I sigh and enter the room, gliding my hands into my pants pockets to stop from doing something stupid like dragging her onto the bed and comforting her in the only way I know how. “Lorenzo’s guards only enter the house under threatening circumstances. If you see them inside, it means something is wrong.”

“And then what would I do?”

Nothing .

There’s nothing she could do while unarmed and defenseless.

“I don’t want to stay here, Salvatore.” She anxiously picks at the chipped black polish of her nails. “It’s a bad idea.”

And I don’t want to fucking leave, but we’re both going to have to deal. “There’s no safer place for you to hide.”

“I don’t feel safe.”

“You think a little old Italian woman is going to hurt you?”

“Maybe.” She lowers her voice. “If she finds out who I am.”

“I’m sure she already knows.” At least enough to understand the seriousness of the situation. “It’s a good sign that Catarina was excited to see you. It means Lorenzo told her you’re a welcomed guest.”

She stares at me, seeming unconvinced.

I fucking hate her vulnerability. It claws at my chest, the growing ache maddening.

Fuck it.

“Here.” I reach for the back of my waistband and grab my gun. “Take this.” I hold the weapon out to her.

Her face slackens as she stares at it.

“Have you used a gun before?”

She keeps staring. Barely blinking. “Yes.” Finally, her gaze returns to mine. Without her heels, she’s more than a few inches shorter than me and has to look upward to meet my eyes, those lush lips poised in my direction. “But only at a shooting range. Never out of necessity.”

I flick a finger over the catch at the top of the weapon. “Safety on.” Then do it again. “Safety off.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t?—”

I grab her wrist and shove the gun into her palm. “You won’t need to use it. It’s only to help you sleep at night.”

“But what if I do use it?” She curls cautious fingers around the hilt. “What if I get trigger happy and go on a rampage because I can’t figure out who to trust?”

Then Lorenzo will have my head and my brothers will throw down celebratory shots as my casket is lowered into the ground. “I’ll clean up the mess. Just try not to get Catarina killed. She makes the best cannoli.” I step back, raking my gaze over her one final time, committing her injuries to memory, and her curves, too. “I’ll return when I can.”

“Wait.” She dumps the gun on the bed, then rushes after me. “What sort of timeline am I looking at? How long will I stay here? What’s the plan?”

I continue into the hall. “You’ll stay until I come back. That’s all I know for now.”

“Which is how long?” she raises her voice.

I shrug.

“Come on, Sally. You’ve gotta give me more than that.”

I pause, battling a smirk. “I’m sure I’ve told you that taunting me doesn’t achieve the result you want.”

Her padded footsteps carry forward. “You don’t like being called Sally?” She maneuvers around me and meets my gaze.

She’s stalling, and I get it. She doesn’t want to be left here, and I’m equally opposed to leaving her. But fucking Lorenzo over after we made a deal is a line I won’t cross.

Not yet, at least.

“You can call me Sally all you like.” I lean close, making her stiffen with my proximity. “Just know that every time you do, all I’ll be thinking about is how much I want to fuck that insulting taunt from your vocabulary.”