Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I walked back inside, still feeling the lingering sensations of Jemma’s skin on my lips. What would I’ve given to be the one in that Jacuzzi with her?
Jemma, naked, and all wet, riding me in the hot water must be the hottest thing ever. And something I definitely intended to experience in reality very soon.
I ignored the twinge of annoyance prickling my skin when my eyes met Matt’s.
Of course, it would be my siblings showing up first thing in the morning to prevent round two. Even though Jemma must be sore, so maybe it was divine intervention. Because one thing was damn sure, I was obsessed with her, now more than ever.
But duty called. Always.
Matt’s jaw was tense, his eyes filled with concern—a stark difference to how he’d kept the mood light and teasing before—for Jemma and Bella’s sake, no doubt.
I sighed, bracing myself for whatever information he had to share. I’d spent half the night poring over the dossier on Ivan Zotov, searching for what I’d missed before. The number that had called me had been dead when I called back, which was suspicious. I was still waiting for Michele to get back to me with the details.
Maybe it had been Zotov.
Because something about that bastard didn’t add up.
The Zotov brothers had their grimy fingers in a dozen seemingly unrelated pies, but they didn’t seem hellbent on keeping the upper hand once the initial chaos—they caused—subsided.
If not to build an empire, what was the end goal? Stirring up shit, only to abandon it later on—for what?
Or who?
They seemed like teenagers looking for trouble, only their actions were…more like…well-executed sting operations. What the hell was the long game? Who or what was behind their actions? What bigger agenda lurked behind their seemingly random moves? I couldn’t quite see the full picture yet.
And I fucking hated not knowing.
“Alright, hit me with it,” I said, my voice laced with irritation. My leaving yesterday evening was the first time I’d put something—or someone else—over the business. It sure didn’t go over well with my father and his cronies.
Matt met my gaze steadily, unfazed by my dark mood as always. “Father wasn’t happy when you left.”
I nodded.
“Zotov seemed a bit…sad, as well.”
Sad? What the fuck?
“So what’s their news?”
Matt sat down.
“Christ, just spit it out already,” I said.
“Okay, well…it’s not really anything exciting. Father and Zotov decided to work on some real estate development together. The meeting was over within ten minutes after you left,” Matt replied, his tone measured and controlled as always. But I knew my little brother. There was something he was holding back.
“And?”
Matt met my gaze steadily, unfazed by my dark mood. “The more interesting thing happened after.”
“After the meeting?”
Matt nodded. “It seems Zotov is way more interested in you than in his relationship with Father. He basically cornered Alex and me and kept pressing for details: where you went and why you left so abruptly.” Matt paused, and watched my reaction closely. “Zotov’s interest in your sudden exit was…over the top, to say the least.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw, and I stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the cloudy sky. Of course, that Russian prick was stirring up more trouble, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.
I didn’t like this. Not one fucking bit. Zotov sniffing around my personal life, around Jemma, made my blood boil with barely restrained fury. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath. “What do you think his angle is?” I asked Matt, trying to maintain my composure.
Matt scratched his neck. “Hard to say, but something’s definitely not right here. We need to keep a close eye on him.”
“I already told Hawk to set up a meeting with him,” I bit out. “As soon as possible. I want to look him in the eye when he tries to feed me his bullshit.”
Matt nodded.
If your enemies are closing in, it’s sometimes better to just turn around and welcome them into a loving hug.
Up close, it’s harder to keep the mask in place. Especially when you’re rolling in the dirt, fighting for dear life.
“I can set it up,” Matt said. “He basically forced his business card on Alex and me, which was kind of funny.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and shrugged. “Never knew the Russians were big on symbols.”
What the hell was he mumbling about? I glanced at it; so what if Zotov had a fucking symbol on his business card; who cared about shit like that anyway?
I nodded. “Do it.” Then I moved toward the kitchen and grabbed another bottle of water. Not that I felt especially fond of Bella, not after the stunt she pulled yesterday evening and the bad influence she surely had on Jemma. But I would use any excuse to catch a glimpse at Jemma in that Jacuzzi, and if that meant bringing my sister a bottle of water, I had no problem with that.
I turned back and caught Matt staring at me. His eyes gleamed with sly amusement. “So…you and Jemma, huh? When did you finally admit she had you wrapped around her little finger from the first time you met?”
He clearly relished the opportunity to poke fun at my newfound weakness.
In all honesty, I would’ve probably done the same if our roles were reversed. And I deserved it. How fucking pathetic and transparent was I? The stoic Vince Salvini reduced to a lovesick fool by a single, stubborn, barely-of-age woman?
And yet…simply thinking about her by my side made me feel…different. She was mine now. My wife, my responsibility, my everything.
And I’d burn the whole goddamn world down to keep her.
“Watch it,” I warned, but there was no real heat behind it. “What’s going on between us is none of your business.”
He raised a single eyebrow. “Well, you’re basically fucking my fiancée. One could argue that is my business.”
I narrowed my eyes and stared him down.
He smirked. “When did you finally give in and embrace the fact that Jemma was yours, not mine? Because, damn, it was so obvious; Alex and I even had a bet running.”
“Shut up,” I snapped, irked by how transparent my obsession had become.
Matt chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” Matt quipped, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “Though I gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day…the great Vince Salvini…meeting his match—in the form of a little Irish girl.”
I narrowed my eyes and growled. “Woman.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgment.
But who was I kidding? The fact remained that Jemma was almost eleven years younger than me. And barely a woman.
I sighed, then rubbed my neck. “But yeah, she’s been a surprise,” I admitted grudgingly. The unfamiliar vulnerability left a bitter taste on my tongue. Who would’ve thought I’d fall for a punk, who gave me shit constantly?
Maybe I had some kind of masochistic tendencies I hadn’t yet explored.
Images of Jemma sprawled across my lap naked, with my hand covering her ass, appeared before my inner eye. How would it feel to spank her? How would she take it? Would she love the heightened sensory experience of sexual desire a well-timed spanking could give her? Would she be a bratty sub, or would she become more dominant with experience? Would she be timid exploring the expanses of this world or embrace it wholeheartedly?
I couldn’t wait to find out. Couldn’t wait to introduce her to everything.
I shook my head.
Just the way she occupied my mind was a weakness I couldn’t afford—not in my cut-throat world.
But damn it if I didn’t welcome it. Wanted it. Craved it.
And I would make it work.
Jemma…keeping her by my side was a risk I was willing to take.
Even if it meant going to war with Ivan Zotov himself. I’d annihilate anyone who posed a threat to my fierce, impossible, utterly captivating future wife.
I’d fight like hell to protect what was mine. No matter the cost.
And Jemma Donnelly was mine.
“Just get me that meeting,” I growled. “It’s time to show Zotov what happens when he fucks with a Salvini. And Matt,” I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder.
Matt nodded solemnly. “She’s one of ours. I got it. We will all make sure she’s safe and protected.”
All traces of humor had vanished. He understood. That was the magical connection I’d had with all of my brothers. Somehow, we understood each other—very few words, if any, were necessary.
Matt grinned again. “Can I be there when you tell Craig Donnelly, though?”
I scowled at him again. “Fuck off, asshole.”
His chuckle followed me when I stepped outside.
“You better talk to your future father-in-law soon. I heard he can be quite impulsive and violent with his daughters’ suitors.”
I flipped him the bird but was immediately transported back to when Gabe went to Donnelly when he finally decided to get Sophie back.
Donnelly had been furious when he’d found out about Sophie’s pregnancy and the fact that Gabe was the father.
And here I was, having unprotected sex with Donnelly’s youngest daughter. Apparently, even though we were distant cousins, stupidity ran in the family.
At least regarding Donnelly, I had the upper hand. And I had no intention of waiting beyond today to tell Donnelly I was the one marrying Jemma. “Trust me,” I replied, my voice laced with determination. “I have no intention of waiting…or being scared.”
I crossed the deck to the surround sound of Matt’s cackle.
I would bet my life he was pulling out his phone right now and broadcasting this newest development all over our group chat. Little annoying asshole.
I rounded the corner.
The sight of Jemma’s neck and shoulders, bare and glistening, sent a jolt of possessive desire through me.
Mine.
“…And dangerous. We need to be careful, Jemma. Very careful,” Isabella said, her voice barely audible above the bubbling water, but her face was pinched with worry.
And Jemma nodded.
“Very careful about what?” I asked, my voice slicing through the tense air. I stepped closer until the warm, humid air hit me, and the scent of chlorine filled my nostrils as I took in the scene before me.
Jemma turned her head around and fixed her gaze on me, her eyes big and round.
While Isabella let out a sharp gasp.
Guilty. Like two thieves caught red-handed.
They had been discussing something they didn’t want me to know about.
Something dangerous. Something they had to be very careful about. And by the somber way they talked about it, it wasn’t something of no importance.
I stalked even closer, my jaw clenched. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Silence.
They exchanged a loaded glance, a thousand unspoken words passing between them.
It only fueled the simmering unease in my gut. “Out. Now.” The command left no room for argument.
Jemma’s eyes flashed, a hint of defiance in the stubborn set of her chin. “What the hell?—”
I grabbed the edge of the Jacuzzi, leaned forward until our noses almost touched. “I said now, Punk.”
She held my gaze for a long, charged moment—a battle of wills. Showing me clearly how she wouldn’t be pushed around by me.
Annoying as hell.
“Jemma,” I warned, my voice low and dangerous. It was infuriating how she showed zero respect or fear—even in this situation—when every other woman I knew would have already submitted to my authority.
But in the end, she relented, rising from the water like a goddess of fury.
I tossed her her robe, my blood thrumming with the need to choke her…or kiss her.
Whatever she’d gotten herself into now, I needed to know. Needed to make sure she knew she wasn’t allowed to hide from me.
Not anymore.
And I needed to mark her as my own, so the whole fucking world needed to know she was untouchable.
“Get dressed. We’re going to see your father.”
Jemma froze, the robe halfway on. “Are you insane? You can’t just?—”
“Watch me,” I growled and took the robe she was still holding, held it up, and waited.
She narrowed her brows and held my gaze for a few seconds before she turned and slipped inside.
I waited until she faced me again, then grabbed the hem and pulled her close. The heat of her, the scent of chlorine and sin, was intoxicating. “You’re my wife. And it’s time you act like it.”
She yanked free, glaring up at me with those stormy eyes. “I’m not your wife, and I’m not one of your underlings. You can’t just order me around like you own me.”
A slow, dangerous smile curved my mouth. Fiery, rebellious, untamable. God, she was perfect.
“That’s where you’re wrong, love. You’re mine. And I always take care of what’s mine. I’m very protective that way…and dangerous,” I said, throwing the words I’d overheard earlier right back in her face.
“You and I.” I focused on Bella, who, probably sensing the mounting tension, had quietly slipped out of the Jacuzzi and retreated to a safe distance. “Will have a little chat later.”
I looked down at Jemma. “Let’s go,” I said, grabbed her arm, and pulled her with me, leaving no room for doubt.
Even if I had to drag her, even if I had to chain her to me.
Even if it meant waging war on Donnelly or the entire fucking world to keep her.
Jemma was mine.
Mine.
First, I needed to find out how soon we could get married, and then, I would clear things with her father.
And then we would have a little chat about how our marriage would work. Because as headstrong as we both were, we needed some ground rules.
And honesty would be one of them.