Chapter 46
Emily
“Emmy,” I hear Peach say as she steps up beside me, wrapping one of her small arms around my leg and pointing at our psychotic uninvited guest. “Who that?”
Fear grips me the second I look down at her, but I force my expression to remain steady as I manoeuver her protectively behind me.
I turn slightly, even though that means giving the enemy my back, but I need to get Peach away from the danger.
“Why don’t you go back and watch your movie, sweet girl?” I whisper, gently pushing her in the direction of the main room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Like the good girl she is, she obeys. “K.”
As I straighten and turn back toward Daisy, I notice her arm lifting in my peripheral vision, but before I get a chance to react, her clenched fist connects hard with the side of my face.
The power behind her punch is enough to knock me off my feet. “I’m going to fucking kill you, bitch,” she screams, launching herself on top of me.
A second later, I hear, “Emmy. That’s my Emmy. That’s my Emmy.” My Emmy. “Don’t hurt my Emmy.” The sheer terror in Peach’s cry tears at my heart.
Fisting my hand in Daisy’s hair, I thrash beneath her as she hammers blow after blow against my skull, each hit coming with enough force to rattle my brain. I’m not thinking about my own safety. My only concern is getting Peach out of the crossfire before she gets hurt.
I’ve never been in a fistfight before, but Daisy throws punches like it’s second nature.
Her hits keep coming; they’re relentless, as I fight with everything I have to break free. Then, just as suddenly as it began, she’s gone.
The moment her weight is off me, I roll onto my side and scramble to my knees, heading straight for Peach. Blood trickles down my face, but it’s the least of my concerns.
“Shh … shh,” I whisper, wrapping her in my arms and pressing her to my chest. My hand runs up and down the length of her back in an attempt to soothe her. I’ve never seen her this distraught before. “It’s okay. It’s okay … I’m okay.”
“D,” she sobs against my shirt, and when my gaze flickers up to his enormous form filling the doorway, I instantly regret that move. It’s not the murderous look on his face that rattles me; it’s how calmly and effortlessly he wraps his hand around Daisy’s neck, snapping it without a second thought.
Her body goes limp in his arms as he releases her. Her lifeless corpse drops to the ground with a sickening thud. Dominic doesn’t even bat an eyelid as he steps over her and crouches down beside us.
“Fuck, Em,” he breathes, gently skimming his hand over my hair. That movement is a stark contrast to what I just witnessed, and a part of me wants to flinch away from his touch. “I was petrified I wouldn’t get here in time.”
I’m not na?ve enough to think he hasn’t killed before—he’s an enforcer for the mob—but seeing how effortlessly and coldly he can end someone’s life makes my head spin so much that I feel like I’m on the verge of passing out. Or maybe I’m just concussed.
My entire body is still trembling as I sit in the passenger seat of Dominic’s car while he drives towards Lucia and Romeo’s place.
The adrenaline has long worn off, and the shock of everything has settled in.
That house quickly became my haven, but it’s now tainted beyond repair, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to step back inside, let alone live there.
Romeo and Lucia are out front waiting for us when we pull through their front gates.
I know Dominic called them, because I heard snippets of his conversation as he paced back and forth beside the car before we left.
Lucia heads around the front of the vehicle to get Peach out first. She’s no longer crying, but her breathing is still coming in small, hitching hiccups.
By the time Lucia gets to me, I’m already climbing out. Peach spots me instantly, reaching with her tiny fingers that stretch in my direction. The poor thing is still shaken by what she witnessed. I’m just grateful her face was pressed into my chest when her uncle killed my attacker.
My whole body aches, but I take her from Lucia without hesitation. The moment Peach is in my arms, she melts against me, tucking her face into the crook of my neck as her thumb slips into her mouth.
“Come,” Lucia says, snaking an arm around my waist and guiding me toward the house.
As we climb the steps to the front porch, I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Romeo slide into the passenger seat before Dominic backs out of the driveway.
No prizes for guessing where they’re headed. The thought makes my stomach recoil.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as Lucia guides me down the long hallway toward the rear of her house.
“Romeo called Dante, and the doc’s on his way,” she says, pulling out a chair at the dining table for me to sit.
I nod. I don’t want to see their doctor, but I probably should. My head is pounding, and I think the cut on my forehead needs stitches.
“I’ll make you a cup of tea, and then we can talk.”
My haunted eyes lock with hers, as the tears I’ve been fighting finally spill free. “He just ended her … r-right there in front of me.”
She abandons the tea and pulls out the chair beside me, settling in close. “I grew up in the Cosa Nostra,” she says gently, her voice lower now. “So I’ve become used to that sort of thing. But for someone like you, I can only imagine how hard that must have been to see.”
“I—”
“This world isn’t for the faint hearted, Em. It’s kill or be killed.”
“She wasn’t a threat to him.”
“But she was a threat to you and this little one.” She rubs her hand up and down Peach’s back before adding, “They protect their own, and if someone threatens them, they’re eliminated without hesitation.”
“That’s barbaric.”
Lucia holds my gaze for a moment before quietly saying, “It’s the way it is with the mob. They have rules—a moral code they live by—and those rules don’t bend for anyone. There’s no mercy for strangers or enemies … sometimes not even for their own.”
She pauses, her expression turning distant.
“When I was living in Italy, Dante, Arabella, and Romeo flew over to get me out before I was forced to marry the psychopath my father had chosen for me. They found me locked in my room and injured. One of Papa’s guards tackled me when I tried to escape.
Romeo didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun and put a bullet between the man’s eyes. ”
Her words make me grimace. This is the side of the Mafia I knew existed, but had never truly seen until today.
Three days have passed, and we are still staying with the De Luca’s. I’ve got five stitches in the side of my head, lumps and bruises everywhere, and a moderate concussion to top it off.
My nights have been spent curled up beside Peach in one of the spare bedrooms. She’s become clingy since the incident.
The first night, Dominic sat in a chair in the corner of the room, waking me every few hours—per the doctor’s instructions—to make sure I was okay. I don’t think he slept.
He’s been back to the house a number of times—bringing clothes and whatever else we’ve needed—and running errands. It’s been a welcome buffer. I’m not angry at him, just shaken. I don’t even want to imagine what would have become of me if he hadn’t shown up when he did.
My talk with Lucia helped somewhat, but I can tell Dominic is worried this has changed things between us. I don’t think it has.
I see the way his eyes linger every time I enter the room, or in the careful distance he keeps, like he’s bracing for something to break.
I miss being in his arms, and still love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But if this thing between us is going to work, I’ll have to come to terms with what I saw.
I’m currently sitting alone on the back patio looking out over the beautiful scenery, revelling in the quiet the countryside brings.
The men are out somewhere, doing God only knows what.
Lucia is trying to get Gabe down for a nap, and Lil’ Peach is in the main room watching cartoons on the television.
She seems to be adjusting to being here better than I am. Kids are so resilient. Or maybe she’s just too young to understand what’s really going on behind the scenes.
The sound of the French doors swinging open pulls me from my thoughts. I expect to see Lucia when I glance over my shoulder, but it’s Dominic who steps through instead.
“Hey,” he says, and I can hear the trepidation in his voice.
“Hey.”
“Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“Of course not,” I reply as I sit straighter.
He takes the seat closest to me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He’s close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.
“You okay, mia tortina?”
I force out a smile. “I will be.”
“You don’t want to go back to the house, do you?”
“I’m not sure if I can.”
Dominic sits back in his seat, scrubbing his hand down his face. “I had a feeling that was the case.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sorry you had to see …” His words drift off as he turns his head and gazes out towards the mountains in the distance. “I thought I was going to lose you both. I could hear it all through the doorbell app. Every hit … Lil’ Peach’s screams.”
When his voice cracks, I reach out and place my hand on his leg. “It’s okay, Dom.”
His gaze snaps back to me, eyes flicking from my hand on his leg before settling on my face. “Is it though?”
“Yes.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I may not like what you did, but I understand why you did it.”
His large hand covers mine where it rests. “I love you, Em, so fucking much. You may have seen a side of me you didn’t like, but please believe me when I say I’d never hurt you.”
“I know,” I say, and I mean it. I feel it deep in my bones, in the quietest, truest part of me. “And I love you too.”
His brows jump, like my confession is news to him. “You still love me?”
“Of course I do,” I say, rising from my chair and settling on his lap.
“Fuck, cupcake,” he murmurs, burying his face in the crook of my neck as his arms circle my waist, pulling me closer. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“I just needed a moment to breathe … to digest the fact that I’m going to marry a cold-blooded killer.”
He draws back and meets my eyes. “That’s a little harsh.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Is it though?”
“Not every job I do ends in death. Sometimes I just break an arm or a leg … you know, knock out a few teeth.”
“That’s comforting to know,” I say as a small smile tugs at my lips.
“I talked to Dante earlier.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I asked him for some time off.”
“Is that even doable? Lucia gave me a rundown on how this lifestyle works. Aren’t you bound to them for life?”
“I am,” he admits, “but things can be arranged. Dante has the final say. If I need time away, I don’t ask for permission; I ask for a favour. And if it’s granted, I’m off the grid for a while. No questions, no calls, no work.”
“Has it been granted?”
He lifts me off his lap and stands. “Come,” he says, reaching for my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. “I’ve got something to show you.”
He leads me back into the house and down the hallway toward the bedrooms. I narrow my eyes, half suspecting he’s about to show me the ‘anaconda in his pants’, but when he walks straight past each room and heads for the front door, I frown in confusion.
He stops before we exit the house and places a hand over my eyes.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I have a surprise for you.”
He pushes open the front door and carefully guides me forward.
“I’m nervous,” I admit. “I don’t like surprises.”
“I think you’ll like this one, mia tortina,” he says softly, his hand falling away from my eyes.
I blink them open, and the moment I see what’s parked in the driveway, a gasp slips from my lips. “Whose RV is that?”
“Ours,” he answers, as his arms slide around my waist from behind. “Lil’ Peach has one more year at home before she starts school. I was thinking the three of us could take some time and travel. See this big, beautiful country of ours. How does that sound?”
I turn in his arms. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.”
The first genuine smile I’ve had in days breaks across my face. “When do we leave?”