Chapter 24
Twenty- Four
“They make one move, and I’ll answer with ten bodies. That’s not war. That’s math.” – Cyan MacBrady.
The bathroom door slams open, echoing off the marble walls just as I’m getting out the shower.
I expected this. Aria storms in like a wild thing, curls falling loose, cheeks flushed, breathing hard, like she just ran a goddamn marathon.
I barely get a towel around my waist before she’s on me. Fists pounding against my chest.
“Where the fuck is my Nonna?” Another hit. “You drugged me. You fucking kidnapped my grandmother to control me! You have no right.”
“You were spiraling,” I bite out. “I made the call.”
“Made the call?” She laughs bitterly. “Do you even hear yourself? You don’t get to make those decisions for me.
You don’t get to fucking sedate me like some caged animal—because I was having a freak-out after watching a man get his brains blown out!
” Her voice cracks on that last word, and, fuck, it’s like a hook in my chest. But I don’t let it show.
I can’t. “You-you don’t get to take my fear and decide what I do with it. ”
“Your fear,” I say, stepping closer, “almost got you killed.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off, closing the distance until she’s pinned between me and the sink.
“You were seconds from being raped, Aria. Seconds, and if I hadn’t fucking found you in time.
..you’d be a cold body in an alley, and I’d be picking out a fucking coffin.
” She sucks in a shuddering breath. I don’t stop.
“Instead, you woke up here. Alive, breathing, and safe.” My voice drops, lethal.
“Would you rather I find you dead so you can keep pretending I’m the villain? ”
Her gaze burns into mine, her jaw trembles, her hands shake before she fists them again. “You don’t own me, Cyan. And you had no right to take my grandmother.”
I lean in, lips close to her ear. “That’s where you’re wrong, Dove.”
She yanks my gun from the countertop where I left it and aims it right at my chest. Her hands tremble, finger on the trigger. Desperation flickers in her wide hazel eyes. She’s grasping for control, for something to anchor herself to after everything I’ve taken from her.
I grab her wrist and bring the gun tighter, pressing the muzzle flat against my chest. “Careful, Dove.” I shift, tilting the gun so she can see exactly where my thumb rests against the small steel switch. “That safety? It’s on.” I click it off with a sharp metallic snap. “Now it’s off.”
Her breath catches: her eyes flick from the gun to me, realizing she’s been holding power she never truly had “Go on, you have a real shot, Dove. All you have to do is squeeze.” A beat.
Her jaw trembles. Her shoulders sag. She lowers the gun. I press my forehead to hers. “You say you’re not mine, but your actions say differently.” I take the gun from her and flick the safety back on.
“You want your grandmother?” I pause. I pull back just enough to see her face. “Then you’ll stay with me. No more running. No more fighting me.” Her lashes flicker, her resistance hangs by a thread. “You’re already caught, Aria. All I’m doing is waiting for you to admit it.”
***
After our bathroom confrontation, I step out of the closet to find her sitting on the couch, hazel eyes fixed on the Boston harbor.
“Get dressed, Dove. We’re heading back to Crescent Bay.
” She doesn’t even look at me. Instead, her gaze remains locked on the harbor as if it held all her answers.
I watch as she plays with the hem of her pink checkered pajamas, her nails digging into the fabric.
“I have nothing here, Cyan. My clothes that I wore yesterday are gone. I’d like to take a shower.
Get out of these.” Her voice is distant but clear.
“Maybe they’re Elana’s clothes? She must’ve left them behind.
” The name slithers between us like an insult.
Elana? Aria is trying to provoke me, testing boundaries she doesn’t yet understand.
Doesn’t she realize she’s the one in my home, wearing clothes I bought for her?
“Can Johnny take me to my aunt? I’d prefer not to be in the same car as you.” Her tone is clipped, like she’s done with the conversation.
“Don’t bark up the wrong fucking tree, Dove. Elana’s irrelevant. Those clothes? They’re yours. Your stuff is in the closet.” I nod toward the walk-in. “A personal shopper stocked it. The left side is all yours. Now, shower and get dressed. We need to leave.”
Aria turns to me; her expression is all fire. “So, what’s the dress code for this little abduction? Casual chic or am I to wear hostage couture?” My lips twitch. She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s angry.
“How about we go with the chicest hostage look? Just remember, the only thing truly mandatory is looking irresistible. And trust me, you always do.” The second the words leave my mouth, I see it; the flicker of something raw in her eyes.
She surges to her feet, standing toe-to-toe with me, and fuck, my blood goes straight to my cock.
“Irresistible? That’s what I am to you? A captive you can dress up and parade around like a pet.
What did you tell your shopper? To pick out clothing that screams ‘elegant hostage’?
” Her breasts are rising and falling too fast, but she holds her ground, challenging me.
I don’t step back. Instead, I reach out and brush a stray curl from her face.
Her lips part, but she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away.
“Oh, come on, Dove, you’re more than irresistible.
.. You’re my enchantress... and if you let me, I’ll show you exactly what I mean.
” For a split second, heat flares in her eyes.
Something dark and wanting. Then she lifts both hands and flips me off, middle fingers stabbing the air between us.
I let out a slow chuckle as I take her in.
Aria does not know what she does to me… she can fight all she wants.
Hell, I want her to. She doesn’t realize she’s already lost.
“Listen here, love, I’ve got bigger plans for what you could do with those fingers of yours.” My gaze drops, dragging over her body. “How about we spice up that captive look of yours right now? Let’s kick it off by choosing some killer matching underwear together.”
Her hazel eyes flare with outrage. “You can only dream of my underwear.” With a triumphant toss of her curls, she spins on her heel and storms toward the bathroom, hips swaying and my cock kicks like it’s trying to break free.
Fucking hell. I clench my jaw, watching her disappear.
I could play this game with her all-damn day, but time isn’t on our side.
We should have left Boston hours ago. We need to return to Crescent Bay, where she’ll be safest.
An hour later, she’s fed, showered, dressed and radiating pure loathing beside me in the elevator.
I let the silence stretch, waiting for her to crack.
It doesn’t take long. “What will I tell my aunt, Cyan?” She hisses through clenched teeth.
“When she comes to visit my grandmother? Aunt Cathy spends every other weekend visiting her in Crescent Bay. She’ll notice she’s not there. ”
“Tell her what she needs to hear, Dove. Your grandmother got into the program. A spot opened. You took it.”
She turns to glare at me. “She’ll want to see her.”
“Tell her no one may see her right now.”
“She won’t believe that. Just like she won’t believe my out of the blue moving in with a guy she knows nothing about!
” The elevator dings, and as the doors slide open, I place a firm hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward.
The weight of reality shows its ugly face as the doors open.
In the lobby, Troy and Collin step forward.
Beyond them, my foot soldiers stand in strategic positions ready to protect us.
“Morning, Capo,” Troy’s stare holds a mixture of respect and measured concern. His gaze flicks to Aria–standing beside me where she belongs.
“Morning...” I nod. “Let’s move.”
Troy steps up beside me on my left. “Jake just checked in. No major moves from New York yet.”
“That old fox didn’t claw his way to the top by being sloppy. He’s moving. Just not where we can see it.”
Before Troy can reply, old man Chester steps forward. “Good morning, Capo.”
“Chester.” I smile, despite the tension among the men.
He’s been with us since my uncle’s reign. Loyal and part of the foundation beneath our feet. He raised Trent and Liam. Chester’s eyes warm as they land on Aria. “And who do we have here?”
I don’t hesitate. “This is Ms. Aria Boschett, my lady.”
His eyebrows jump before delight floods his face. “Well, it’s about damn time, Capo! Nice to meet you, young lady.”
Aria, surprisingly, doesn’t snap. She gives him a soft, polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Chester.”
“My, my,” he beams. “Sunshine is what you are. Brightens the whole morning.” For a heartbeat, her walls drop in a way she refuses to be with me as she grins at him.
Chester leans in my direction, whispering, “Remember, with a beautiful young lady like this, you’d best remember always to compliment the dress and never forget the hair. ”
I shake my head with a laugh. “Noted… happy woman, less trouble.”
“Damn right,” he grins, then looks at Aria with a wink. “Don’t let his tough exterior fool you. He’s got a soft streak, too.” Aria huffs a tiny, involuntary laugh and doesn’t deny it.
“Hey, old man. Get your own woman.”
“I did. My Lonnie is holding the back doors in heaven for me.” Chester winks before turning to open the doors.
We step outside into the crisp Boston weather.
The streets were alive, with horns blaring and people on the sidewalks.
I take Aria’s hand; she tries to jerk away.
I tighten my grip, pulling her to my side.
“Every time you pull away, it only makes me hold on tighter.”
Her eyes flash. “This isn’t how you show you care, Cyan. I’m in a cage of your making.” Her words cut deeper than I want to admit. I look away, because if I meet her eyes, she’ll see it.
Chester’s footsteps echo down the stairs. The screeching tires hit my ears, and my eyes move to the street. My hand goes for my gun, as the world explodes. Gunfire shreds the midday, bullets splitting air, tearing through steel, glass, and flesh.
“Get down!” I roar, yanking Aria backward as the street becomes a war zone.
Chester turns—too late. Bullets punch into him, brutal and relentless. He crumples; crimson soaks the pavement.
“NO!” Aria screams, the sound tearing from her like her soul’s being ripped out.
“Move!” I shove her behind a concrete pillar and unload my gun at the black car peeling off.
Troy, Collin, and my foot soldiers fire back, the masked bastards vanishing as fast as they came.
The silence that follows is deafening, then people scream in horror.
I drag Aria with me, kneeling beside Chester. There’s too much blood.
“Chester…” He looks at me for a breath. Recognition flickers, then fades. He’s gone. My hands fisted in his jacket.
“Cyan… wh-at j-ust happened?” Aria chokes, voice cracking. Her terror is raw all over her face. I want to lie. But lies can’t protect her from this world. I pull her into my arms. Her body convulses.
“This is the price of last night,” I murmur against her hair. “We fight… or we die.” She’s clutching my coat like I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
Collin storms up. “C, we need to move.” I lift Aria into my arms. She’s limp, shock swallowing her whole.
“We’re shutting this city down,” Troy barks to our men, his voice razor-sharp. “We find the fuckers who did this.”
“There are dead men walking,” I growl.
Collin’s eyes burn at the spot where Chester lies. “We’re gonna paint the streets red.”
I adjust Aria in my arms, her face buried in my chest. Troy opens the rear door, and I slide in with her on my lap; she’s refusing to let go.
I buckle us in, one hand stroking her hair, the other wrapped tight around her body as the Maybach pulls away.
I lower my head, breathing her in, her flowery scent filling my lungs, stroking her as if touch alone can stitch her together.
She’s seen too much. My thoughts sharpen into a single, merciless truth: Lorenzo Rizzotto won’t survive this war.