Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
I waited until Michele Paresi, my second-in-command and one of my most trusted people, pulled up to the curb outside the Donnelly residence and then opened the driver’s door. “I’ll be driving myself,” I said. “You’ll stay with Alex and Fee and accompany them back to the city safely.”
He stared at me for a split second before he killed the engine and got out.
As did Matt before he rounded the hood and hopped into the passenger seat. His expression was a mix of confusion and extreme annoyance.
But before my little brother would start tearing into me—which he most likely was gearing up to do—I needed something to calm me the fuck down and to pull my mind away from over-obsessing about Jemma Donnelly. Being behind the wheel should at least take care of the second part.
I turned back and looked up at the house and her room’s window. The curtain moved, and I caught a glimpse of her shadow before she disappeared.
I narrowed my eyes. What was it about Jemma Donnelly that made me lose my fucking mind as soon as she opened her sassy mouth?
How did this barely-old-enough-to-count-as-a-woman pain in the ass have the ability to make me lose my cool when nobody I’d ever met had—and that included men and women?
Was it her confrontational attitude? The fact that she’d bested me? Or was her sheer existence enough to make me want to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her? Which would be definitely safer than kissing her into submission.
I sighed, looked down at the car, then got in.
“What the hell, Vince?” Matt didn’t even wait for me to start the engine before he launched into his tirade. “Since when are you in the business of bullying and physically intimidating women?” He sighed. “You deserved a knee to your balls. Wait. I should definitely tell her to do that next time.”
I glared at him. Of course, my brother would find a way to make fun of me.
“And why would you even try to force me and her into an arranged marriage anyway? You told me to enjoy my freedom while I can. You told me you will hold the fort for as long as Dante, Hero, and I need you to. For fuck’s sake.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “If you need an alliance so badly, you can marry Jemma Donnelly yourself.”
My chest tightened for a split-second at the image of taking Jemma for myself before I got a grip on myself. What the hell was that? I vowed to myself I would never get hitched, fake, or otherwise—and even if it wasn’t for that, I needed Jemma Donnelly contained for a while, but I had zero interest of suffering through the absolute nightmare of being in her presence myself. I shook it off, shrugged, and reversed out onto the street. “Stop whining. It’s not like I’m forcing you to marry some kind of turd. She’s a PITA, but her looks should work for you.” Her looks definitely worked.
Matt stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, then shook his head. “You’re such an asshole, I truly doubt we’re related. And her looks are completely beside the point.”
He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t you. What’s going on?” He hesitated. “You used to be the most level-headed man I know. I’ve never seen you be cruel and aggressive towards women…or show any kind of emotions really.” He cocked his head. “You usually never do anything that isn’t calculated and doesn’t fit into your long-term strategy. So what’s the game plan here?”
I focused on the road before us but could feel him burn a hole into my head.
“Is there something I should know? Why Jemma Donnelly?” Matt said, angled his body towards me, and tilted his head. “What is it about her?”
I suppressed my sigh. Suppressed thinking about her.
Long-term strategy, my ass.
The plan had not been planned at all. All I’d done was seize the opportunity when it occurred. It was very short-term, very bad-tempered damage control—nothing more, nothing less. And I chose Matt because I wanted him home and contained after the incident in Malta, as well, and he was closest in age to Jemma, so the two of them might at least have a good time playing games together, or something, for as long as the marriage lasted.
Not that I would ever share that little fact or my reasoning with Matt.
Right now, I needed control over Jemma Donnelly—even if I still didn’t know if the evidence we found was valid—control, information, and power over her.
And if an alliance with the Donnellys came with that, all the better. Now that the Falcones were basically joined at the hip with the Donnellys—since Gabe Falcone, my one and only childhood friend, married Sophie Donnelly, Jemma’s oldest sister—we’d better make sure they were on our side, as well.
That’s what I should’ve told Jemma Donnelly instead of threatening her and spewing a bunch of bullshit. “Just take one for the family, only for a couple of months, half a year, tops. After that, you can divorce her or send her to Italy or Malta. Really, you can do whatever you want.”
Best-case scenario, it would only take a week with her under our roof to get her under control or rule her out, and the ongoing hack shut down.
Matt whistled while exhaling slowly. “So this is really just a power play? Get the Donnellys to agree, show everyone we’re calling the shots?” He scoffed and shook his head. “You can’t be serious. Did you see the way Jemma looked at you? She was two seconds away from ripping your balls off right there. Even if I agreed to marry her—which I never will—I probably wouldn’t survive our wedding night.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I moved my jaw from side to side. It didn’t really hurt where she hit me and then head-butted me. Though, if she’d been a little taller, and if she hadn’t been so close, she could’ve done some serious damage.
She was a feisty one, this one—which, in our world and hers, was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never met a woman who was so outrightly hostile and fearless.
I’d encountered scheming and plotting—yes. There was no shortage of women who tried to go behind my back and tried to “catch” me. But one that was ready to throw hands—never. Jemma Donnelly was the opposite of a schemer. She wore her feelings on her sleeve—and clearly visible in her eyes.
I kept my eyes on the road. “Maybe I’m counting on your demise since you annoy the hell out of me.”
Matt chuckled. “You adore me, and you know it. You would be the first one crying like a little kid if I died.”
I side-eyed him, but his focus was on the road before us. He was right. When Gabe called and told me Matt was in the hospital, and fighting for his life, I’d completely lost it for a second.
It was my duty to protect all of them, to keep my siblings safe. “Not true,” I said. “You’ve been lollygagging around for the longest time. It’s time you earn your keep in this family.”
He side-eyed me. Which I could sense more than see. “You sound more and more like our father with every passing day.”
The pain that shot through me was swift and left a white-hot path of hatred. I was nothing like our father.
Nothing.
I shot him a look that would’ve shut him up—if he happened to see it.
But he leaned back and stared out of the side window and sighed. “I’m not marrying Jemma. And she sure as hell doesn’t want to marry me.” His tone of voice sounded resigned and determined at the same time. “And if that means I’m no longer part of this family, so be it.”
Fuck.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out and looked at the screen.
My father. Talk about the devil. I clenched my jaw and took the call.
“Did you give them the invite?” my father said as soon as I picked up. His cold voice and heavy Italian accent immediately grated on my nerves.
“Yes, dinner on Saturday night at the villa,” I said, and my father dropped the call without saying anything else.
That was our relationship in a nutshell: him barking orders, me swallowing my pride, which was getting harder and harder.
“I’m not coming,” Matt said.
And now Matt was being difficult.
This was the last thing I needed on top of the ongoing hack that had caused a bleeding of money from the online gambling part of our business—the part I suggested, implemented, and pushed against my father’s will. My pièce de résistance in the ongoing turf war between my father and myself.
I didn’t need my family to turn against me—at least not my brothers—not right now.
I let the silence hang for a few moments between us. “I’m just asking for half a year, tops. Just play along for now, keep her…ahem…them distracted and off-balance.”
Matt turned back to me, an incredulous look on his face. “Keep her distracted? Her, not them? From what exactly? You’re really pushing my buttons here. What exactly is going on between you and that mob princess? And since when do you care about keeping our enemies distracted instead of outmaneuvering them?”
My knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as I took the on-ramp on our way towards the helipad, which was outside the city limits. “I’ve got my reasons. You’ll understand soon enough.” I glanced into the rearview mirror and filed away the marks and models of the cars surrounding us while weaving through traffic.
He let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Whatever you say, bro. But I’m not getting in the middle of your twisted games with Jemma Donnelly. I just barely survived; I’m not ready to risk my life again so soon.”
I shot him a look and growled, my voice low and with an edge. “I’m not engaging in twisted games with Jemma Donnelly.”
The silence that followed was heavy. His way of telling me I was full of shit.
Which I was.
Because completely unexpectedly, Jemma Donnelly—in person—was very different than on paper. More innocent, fiercer, a lot prettier, and very unsettling. “This isn’t a game.”
He stared at me, then turned away. “Whatever you say, brother.”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter as we rode in tense silence. We left the city area behind us and exited the highway—as did a black Mercedes behind us. Part of me wanted to confide in Matt about the hack that drained our coffers—the faceless online threat that had been gnawing at me for weeks.
Hurting my ego for weeks.
There were also my father’s latest moves to shut me out and destabilize my position in the business and in the family. What was he after? Setting up Dante or Hero as his successor instead of me? Pitting us against each other? Or did he realize how much influence he’d lost already, and he was trying to come back from that? Was there someone whispering into his ear?
Fuck.
Matt was one of my closest confidants, my little brother who’d always had my back no matter what. But something held me back from spilling everything. Call it stubbornness or pride, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit I wasn’t as smart, invincible, and tough as I’d thought or pretended to be.
And the fact that I’d failed to get a handle on the hack situation wasn’t helping either. All of this was even worse since I’d been the one to champion our expansion into online gambling over my father’s—and his cronies’—objections.
I couldn’t, under any circumstances, show any weakness.
Not right now, not ever.
No, Matt didn’t need to be burdened with my mess. Especially not now when he was still healing from his near-fatal wound.
Especially not right now. He was still so carefree in so many ways despite being in his late twenties. He had been the eternal optimist in our family.
At least before he left for Malta.
I side-eyed Matt, then focused back on the road.
Before Matt had left to be by Alex Falcone’s side. Because ever since he came home, he had that haunted look in his eyes—the same one Hero and Dante sometimes had, as well—from needing to grow up too fast in this kind of life.
The perks of having a cruel father who thought exposure therapy to the darker side of the business was what transformed you into a real man.
I rubbed my neck. Their absent, self-absorbed mother probably did a number on them too, as did growing up with security details tailing you from elementary school to make-out sessions after high school dances.
And almost dying. That put a damper on your carefree attitude, for sure.
Jemma Donnelly’s upbringing must’ve been pretty much the same. Was that why she was so fierce?
Damn, Jemma Donnelly.
Why was she being so difficult? Then again, what exactly did I expect from a twenty-one-year-old who hacked online gambling sites in their fucking free time? Did I really think she would be docile?
Or sane?
Did I expect her father would have any power over her? Well, someone needed to intervene in the dangerous games she was playing.
And that someone was me.
Was this her way of acting out? Or was it her way to further the Donnelly family business? Would be interesting to hear her father’s perspective on that one.
I chuckled and could feel Matt’s eyes on me.
As much as I had hated this twisted world we were born into growing up, I’d made my peace with it a long time ago.
This was the hand I was dealt, and I would play it better than anyone before or after me. I’d claw and fight my way to the top if that’s what it took to keep the family, to keep my siblings safe.
And working under my father and his outdated business practices, was not it. And that was, why the online part of the business was so important.
Telling Matt about the hacking would only make him fret, and he’d want to get involved. And right now, he didn’t need that added stress weighing on him.
My gaze flickered over to him, slumped in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield. We’d left the inner suburbs, and the increased greenery was pretty with its autumn foliage. Not that I was all that interested in nature—and neither was Matt.
A small smile tugged at my lips.
Sure, I’d been throwing him a curveball about this arranged marriage with Jemma Donnelly—that mobbed-up wildcard who couldn’t seem to stop herself from getting in my face.
Matt could hate me for it—they all could. But at least it would force Matt to stay around for a while instead of jet-setting around the world and getting in the line of fire even though he has no business being there. And once this hacking incident was dealt with, the business and my siblings would be safe and able to continue their lives as always. And really, that was the only thing that counted. Because who knew what my father would demand of them if he managed to remove me, and I wouldn’t be able to shield them.
I would make the hard choices, take the hits, and do whatever was needed to protect this family.
My family.
I slammed on the brakes as a small, furry, white-and-red shape in the middle of the road ahead suddenly squirmed.
Matt braced himself against the dashboard. “What the f—” His eyes widened as he spotted the bloody puppy writhing in the middle of the street. “Oh shit, Vince…don’t do it.”
I looked around. There were no houses in the immediate vicinity—we’d just passed a wooded area. Without a word, I shoved open the door and strode over to the whimpering animal.
It cowered as I approached, trembling and trying feebly to drag itself away from me.
My chest tightened at the sight of its mangled leg, blood matting its white fur.
Fuck.
“Vince? What are you doing?” Matt called out in a strained voice.
I scooped up the terrified pup and cradled it against my chest as it let out a pained yelp. I locked eyes with Matt who was standing between the car and his open door, and jerked my head towards the driver’s seat.
He opened his mouth to protest, but then, apparently thinking better of it, rounded the hood and took the wheel while shaking his head.
I eased into the passenger side while holding the shivering puppy against my chest. “It’s okay, Picco. I got you,” I murmured.
Matt shot me a sidelong glance. “Seriously, bro? What if it belongs to someone?”
“Just shut up and drive,” I growled and pressed the trembling bundle to my chest.