Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nico
When she says I killed her mom, it’s a struggle to accept what my ears are hearing. I grip her arms again, hold her in place. She stares at me with a confused expression, a hint of affection still in her eyes, but something else there, too. Rage. Hate. Pain.
“Explain. Now.”
“You’re the one who needs to explain,” she snaps. “Did you or did you not kill my mom?”
“I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t even involved in that hit – on either side. I had nothing to do with it. When that hit happened, I wasn’t the Don of the Family. My brother, Luka, was. Why would I be there? Listen to yourself. You think I would hurt an innocent woman?”
She blinks, her eyes growing glassy. Even wearing a baggy T, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders, with no makeup, she’s more beautiful than any woman at that party.
“No,” she whispers. “I can’t believe it, but I saw it… in, in black and white.”
She shudders, trying to move away from me again, but this time, I won’t let her. I pull her against me so she can feel my tense muscles. The outrage burning inside me. “You need to explain, Sienna.”
“Adrian found me in the bathroom. He hurt me. He grabbed my throat. Showed me a police report. Then gave me this bug to catch you and Gianna talking about anything mob related, but I knew I couldn’t wear it. It would feel…” She laughs humorlessly. “Too much like a betrayal. So, I was looking for somewhere to plant. But even then, I wasn’t sure I could do it.”
My rage takes a different shade when she tells me this.
“Adrian grabbed your throat ?” I snarl. “He cornered you in the bathroom – alone?”
She nods. “He said I would be a Bratva plaything if I didn’t do what he said. They would make me their toy.”
I let her go as my hands curl into fists. I don’t want to hurt her. “I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to make it slow.”
“Nico,” Sienna whispers, staring at me as if she doesn’t recognize who I am.
“I know,” I tell her. “I don’t want you to see this side of me, but what he did is unacceptable. I don’t care what that police report says. I had nothing to do with your mother’s death. I wasn’t even in Dallas. I was in Austin for a work meeting.”
“Really?” she asks.
“ Really . I can’t believe you think I would do something like that.”
“I didn’t,” she murmurs. “Well – I don’t know. He showed me a police report.”
“It was fake,” I tell her flatly. “Go to my website, go to the company blog, and you’ll see photos of me with several Chinese investors taken in Austin on the weekend your mother was killed. I’ve been looking into your mother’s death, digging deeper. I’m waiting to hear back from a contact. Hell, Sienna.”
She groans, gripping her hair like she’s going to rip chunks out.
Rage gives way to sympathy when I see the pain she’s in.
“Hey – calm down.” I take her hands, holding them tightly, holding her still. “Look at me, Vignette. I promise you. I had nothing to do with it. I’ll show you the website right now.”
“Maybe I should show you the report, too.”
“He gave it to you, didn’t just show you?”
“It’s upstairs.”
“That amateur,” I growl. “Let’s take a look at this report, then.”
Holding her hand, we head upstairs together. She goes to the bedside table and opens the drawer, showing me a police report.
“While I look this over,” I tell her, “go to my website. Check the dates.”
She sits cross-legged on the bed. Even now, lust blooms when I see her thick thighs on display. I focus on the task at hand, scanning the report.
“Oh,” Sienna mutters. “There you are – that was the day it happened.”
“Yes,” I snarl. “Because I don’t kill women.”
Her shoulders slump. “I feel like an idiot.”
“You were in shock. He threatened you. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I didn’t believe it. Deep down in my heart, I couldn’t believe it. I knew it wasn’t true… but I didn’t even think about the report being fake.”
I sit next to her, gesturing at the so-called police report. “The fonts are wrong. The header isn’t aligned properly. The language is too casual in places. Badge IDs are missing. There isn’t a clear chain of documentation. It’s a fake – and an insulting one at that.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m an idiot.”
“Look at me, Vignette.”
She does.
“Tell me you didn’t believe this, not deep down, not in your heart where it matters.”
“I didn’t,” she whispers.
I kiss her unexpectedly, even taking myself by surprise. She gasps and then gives herself over to me. She opens her mouth like she wants me to push my tongue scintillatingly into her mouth. I groan and slide my hand to her leg, squeezing hard, but then I stop myself.
“You were assaulted tonight,” I say, my voice trembling. “That bastard touched you, grabbed you, threatened you. I’ve known Adrian my whole life. He always seemed jealous of my uncle’s position. When I became Don, I saw the same hints of jealousy. But I never thought he’d take it this far.”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t. I blame him. I blame Viktor. Adrian said you would be… a plaything for the Bratva?”
I can barely say it, my voice shaking, my commitment to Sienna making me savage.
“Yes,” she whispers.
Standing, I pace the room. “You don’t belong to anyone,” I growl. “No one, Sienna, except me. Do you understand that?”
I need to calm down, but I can’t. I return to the bed, grab her thick, tempting thigh, and kiss her again. She gasps and kisses me back, and then my lust takes over. Or maybe it’s more than lust. My primal need for control.
“You should’ve come to me right away,” I tell her.
“I’m sorry.”
“And you didn’t think I did it?”
“No. But I was confused. I’ve never seen a police report before.” When I squeeze her leg harder, she places her hand on my chest. “How can I make it up to you?”
"Don't ask me that now," I snarl. "Not when my blood is boiling. Not when the Don is threatening to shatter my civilized veneer and transform me into a primal beast. Not now, piccola pittrice, when I need to possess you. To dominate you. To prove that you belong to someone— not the Bratva, and certainly not Adrian. You belong to me."
"I'll do anything," she whispers.
"Don't say that," I groan, my manhood throbbing despite the emotional gravity of the situation.
"Don't you need to punish me?" she murmurs.
This is profoundly disturbing, but her words snap something inside me. Rising from the bed, I gesture toward the floor.
"On your knees, Vignette. Now."
She sinks to her knees, looking breathtakingly beautiful as she gazes up at me. Eagerness illuminates her expression, as if she wants to make amends.
I should hold her, console her, and treat her with tenderness. But the Don's darkness within me roars for possession. She's mine. I'm more convinced of that now that another has dared to touch her.
But I need to prove it.
I pull down my shorts and underwear, my cock springing free, the tip already glistening with precome. She whimpers, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
"Put your hands behind your back," I growl, part of me recognizing this is a shade of darkness even my perfect painter couldn't capture on canvas. But another part, the savage Don within me, couldn't care less.
When she complies, placing her hands behind her back, my cock throbs violently.
I grip my base and guide myself to her mouth. She kisses the tip. "What do you want me to do?"
"Open your mouth for your Don. For the man who owns you—the only man who has the right to touch you."
She parts her lips. I guide myself inside, groaning when I feel the slick warmth of her tongue. The most intoxicating aspect is how she looks at me. She moans as I slide in and out, cradling her head in my hands, shifting my hips, claiming her mouth.
When she begins to match my rhythm, moving her mouth in perfect synchrony with my thrusts, I feel my release building. During our lovemaking, I restrained myself because I craved feeling her climax around me. I needed to experience her body trembling for me alone.
But this is about something else. Possession.
"I need to... own you because... no one else can," I groan, her mouth making wet sounds as I quicken my pace. She moans, nodding, encouraging me. "Just me. Only me. Just?—"
I groan as heat surges through me. Her eyes widen when I explode against the back of her throat. Watching her swallow, I nearly keep going, let my dick harden again and claim her beautiful mouth all night long.
Instead, I seize the moment of clarity and step back. "I didn't plan that."
She rises, wiping her mouth. "Don't apologize. Don't explain. I wanted that as badly as you. I wanted you to punish me— to own me. I can't believe I let that bastard poison my mind."
"Don't blame yourself. You've endured far more than anyone should ever have to."
"Do you forgive me?" she asks, a tentative smile touching her lips. "I mean—you punished me."
Somehow, I manage a smirk. "Does it count as punishment if you enjoyed it?"
"Who said I enjoyed it?"
I pull her into my arms. "Your moans gave you away..."
She wraps her arms around me, clutching my back tightly, digging her fingernails into my skin. "Perhaps we're both equally unhinged. If you'd told me earlier this evening that we would... do that, I wouldn't have believed you. But I desperately wanted to make amends."
"You've suffered tremendously, Sienna," I say. "You believed something reprehensible about me... but don't worry, you've atoned."
When she looks up at me, it's miraculous. Somehow, a playful glint illuminates her eyes despite everything that's happened. "It hardly felt like atonement. If anything, it's left me more confused."
"How?"
"Being with you has been a rollercoaster from the beginning. I know, right? Cliché. Nauseating. But it's the truth. Tonight, though, it's been the wildest ride yet. Everything has become so complicated. Before you, I never imagined it possible to have my heart shattered and my world transformed in the same night."
"If I recall correctly, it was my world that was transformed..."
"I enjoyed it too," she confesses softly. "When you were looking down at me, I felt powerful. Like, I was your obsession. It felt exhilarating."
"You are my obsession. That's why I can't stand thinking about you believing I would harm an innocent woman. I've killed people, Sienna."
I expect a gasp, some indication of shock, but she merely nods. "I suspected as much."
"But those I've killed deserved their fate. Or I was defending myself. I've never harmed a woman or child. Nor would I." My tone darkens. "Adrian will pay."
"What will you do to him?" Sienna asks.
"String him up. Tear him apart. Make him scream for forty days and nights before finally allowing him to bleed out. But you shouldn't hear these things."
She digs her nails deeper into my skin. "I don't want you concealing anything from me. Your mother told me about the mob, about her position within it."
"She did?"
"Yes," she confirms.
"She must trust you. She guards her secrets even more fiercely than I do."
"If I'm going to be part of this, I want to be fully included."
"What do you mean—be part of it?"
She looks at me as though I'm missing something obvious. "Adrian thinks I'm spying on you. Surely, you can use that somehow. You can use me to?—"
"No," I interrupt. "It's too dangerous."
"But—"
"Sienna," I groan. "You've suffered enough already. I won't allow you to risk your life."
"Who said that's your decision to make?"
"I own you, remember."
She shakes her head. "That's romantic. That's... erotic. That doesn't mean you control every aspect of my life."
I guide her to the bed. "It's been an exhausting day. We'll discuss this another time. We both need rest. I have a long day tomorrow."
"Doing what?"
"Trying to prevent a war."
Her demeanor softens slightly. "This conversation isn't over."
"Fair enough," I grunt. "But don't forget who your Don is, piccola pittrice ."
I climb into bed and draw her into my arms. She rests her cheek against my chest. Within minutes, she's breathing softly in slumber. I watch over her, knowing sleep will elude me for hours, if it comes at all.
Protecting my woman takes precedence over rest.