31. Siena
Siena
U n-fucking-believable .
I have never seen so much glittery bling in my life.
The safe held nothing I expected. I don’t know what I thought I’d find, maybe stacks of cash, like in the movies?
But instead, rows of shelves display jewelry stands, each piece showcased under dim blue light that highlights the facets of every gem.
Gorgeous pendants encrusted with jewels in the shape of everything from a flamingo to a water lily to a muscle car—a muscle car?
Who does that?—bracelets, anklets, something that looks like a leash studded with rubies.
The lighting beneath the shelves illuminates them perfectly.
They’re too beautiful to touch, and I find myself suddenly very nervous as the enormity of what we’re doing hits me.
Beneath the display shelves are rows of velvet drawers.
Matti reaches for one, pulling it open to reveal smaller pieces: rings with jewels as large as the pad of my thumb, intricately designed brooches, lapel pins, tie clips, cufflinks.
Velvet pouches with ivory drawstrings sit neatly in rows.
Matti tugs one open, revealing loose gems, some raw, others polished to gleaming perfection.
“Wow,” I breathe.
Matti seems to echo my sentiments. “Holy shit.”
I nod appreciatively, taking it all in, but Matti isn’t looking at any of the jewels. His gaze is fixed on something behind me. My stomach tightens as I turn to follow his line of sight.
A second door is embedded in the back wall of the vault. Matti strides over and pulls it open. Darkness yawns beyond, and he lifts his phone to cast light into the void. A concrete stairwell stretches downward, the walls made of cinder blocks, windowless. He shuts the door, and we exchange a look.
Someone bangs on the locked doors that we came in.
“Matti! You in there?” It’s Vin.
“Yeah,” Matti calls out, grabbing a suitcase and tossing me the other one. “We’re almost done.”
I start carefully placing jewels inside my luggage, but when Matti unceremoniously dumps the contents of a drawer into his suitcase and tosses it aside before moving to the next one, I follow his lead.
“Tommy’s injured, so I’m going to help him out. Meet you downstairs,” Vin shouts.
Matti grinds his teeth, and I realize with a jolt that he stayed with me rather than help his friends. I could have waited for the vault to open on my own, and it hits me that I matter to him as much as the men he grew up with, the ones he made an oath to. His family.
Matti and I work fast, packing everything. Velvet bags, the display pieces, rough or polished—all of it goes in the suitcases. When we’re done, he smiles at me in the dim light of the vault. “Ready? ”
I nod, and he grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door we came in, but before we reach it, loud bangs and shouts erupt from the other side.
Terror spikes through me. I look up at Matti, but he’s already moving, pulling me back the way we came to the rear of the vault. I cannot believe that this door is here, but is it a godsend or a death trap? Matti pushes the door open and pulls me into the darkness.
Pitch black engulfs us, thick and silent, the same blackness that surrounded us when Matti was fucking me, but this darkness is damp and cavernous. Matti uses the light on his phone to send a fuzzy beam of illumination in our path.
I’m used to wearing stilettos, but my legs feel like jelly after the way he wrecked me and this suitcase is heavy as fuck.
I grip the railing with one hand, holding my suitcase with the other, descending each step shakily.
He lets me take my time down to the first landing, then stops, turning to me.
“Kitten, hold on to your suitcase, please. And hold this.”
I take his phone from him and adjust my grip on the ridiculously heavy bag, as he hoists me over his shoulder. His strong shoulder muscles press into me, his forearm locking my thighs in place. With his free hand, he carries his suitcase and takes the stairs two at a time.
A squeak escapes me before I clench my lips together. I cling to his shoulder, every jarring step feeling like I could fall off and tumble into the abyss below. The light from his phone bounces in the darkness, illuminating only our next step and not what lies beyond.
Matti carries me down landing after landing, the stairwell twisting endlessly. Dizzy, I grip the suitcase and phone harder.
Finally, he sets me down, his hands steadying me as I wobble on my heels and he takes his phone back from me.
“Fuck.”
The stairs dead-end on a landing with a gaping hole in the wall. In that hole, hovering a floor below us, is an industrial elevator. A makeshift wooden gate blocks the entrance.
I peek over the gate as Matti illuminates the area with his phone’s flashlight. The metal caging that makes up the roof of the elevator gleams dully from the floor below.
“Stand back,” Matti orders, and I comply as he lands two swift kicks to the gate hinges, splintering the wood until it gives way.
“But how do we—”
Matti ignores me and pulls a knife out of his back pocket, giving me a peek of the gun tucked into the back of his waistband. I shiver.
Dropping to the ground, he reaches through the broken boards.
His blade makes quick work of the chicken wire ceiling of the elevator, as he easily cuts out a large section.
Squatting down, he pulls off the top and doesn’t hesitate before dropping his suitcase through the hole and then follows it, jumping into the elevator hovering the floor below us.
The elevator shudders under his weight.
“Oh God,” I whisper, heart hammering.
“Don’t worry, kitten,” he whispers, grinning up at me.
I peer down at him through the hole. “Please don’t ask me to jump through that hole,” I hiss.
In response, he opens a panel on the elevator wall and presses a button. The elevator jerks into motion and I jump back as it slides up a floor and into place in front of me. Matti pulls up the metal bar that serves as a door and gestures for me to step inside.
“Better?”
“Seriously?” I step inside gingerly, eyeing the flimsy bar. “No door? How far up are we? Nevermind, don’t answer that.”
Matti secures the bar in place and hits another button on the control panel. The elevator lurches downward. I yelp and let go of the suitcase, threading my fingers through the chicken wire and holding on for dear life.
It feels like we’re inside a wall as we speed down. It’s still dark but the gloomy light from his phone illuminates the wooden elevator enough to show the drywall and insulation that we whiz past.
Matti slides an arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Afraid of heights?”
“Afraid of plummeting to my death,” I snap.
“You get cranky when you’re scared,” he says, stepping behind me and pulling me into his chest. “I can distract you if it helps.”
He dips his head down to nuzzle my neck, sucking hard above my clavicle. I moan, trying to buck him off me with my hips, still gripping the chicken wire. “Not helpful.”
The elevator grinds to an abrupt halt, the metal walls trembling. Matti licks the mark he just made on my skin and smirks, then grabs his suitcase and takes my hand, leading me off the elevator.
I’m looking down, maneuvering my suitcase over the threshold, when Matti stops short. I glance up at him, confused.
His expression is cold, his jaw tight. My pulse stutters as I follow his gaze .
Franco is blocking the only exit, a glass door that appears to lead into a parking garage. One arm is cinched around Valentina’s neck, and he’s pressing the muzzle of a gun to her temple.
Her eyes are heavy, lipstick smeared, mascara streaking her cheeks. The shoulder of her dress is torn, and the once-modest slit just above the knee is ripped to her waist.
“Hello, fuckers,” sneers Franco. “Now that you’re done fucking my whore sister, I’m here to relieve you of your suitcases.”
Shock spikes through my veins like ice. I look at Valentina for some clue as to what’s going on, but she’s barely clinging to consciousness.
Franco nods at my suitcase, and I look to Matti for guidance, heart hammering.
Matti steps in front of me. “Put the gun down, Franco. We both know that this is just another half-ass attempt to get Aurelio’s attention.”
Franco scoffs. “Fuck that. I’m done dealing with that fat old fuck. You and I both know that he’s on his way out. What you don’t know is that I’m on my way up.”
“Really. Let’s say we give you the bags. What happens next? You just go home? Try to pawn some of the rarest gems and unique jewelry designs in the world? Sell it off to some asshole you once put away for fencing stolen goods in your shitty, corrupt career?”
Matti shakes his head mockingly, his voice dripping with derision. I shift, edging out from behind him for a better view.
“That’s your problem, Franco,” he says. “You never think things through.”
Franco’s grip tightens around Valentina’s throat, his arm flexing as she claws at him, her wide eyes starting to bulge.
“I have more connections than you think.” He bares his teeth in something between a smirk and a snarl.
“And maybe you have fewer than you think. You’ve been out of the loop too long, Matti.
Weeks on the road. Weeks fucking my cunt sister. Things change.”
“Nothing will ever change that much, Franco,” Matti replies evenly.
He looks almost bored, steady and composed, while Franco twitches like he’s on the edge of snapping. Valentina’s body sags slightly in his grip, losing her fight against his arm cutting off her air.
Pride in Matti, disgust with Franco, and fear for Valentina swirl together as I bite back the bile that rises in my throat.
Matti exhales, his tone pitying. “Look, I know you’ve been trying to carve out a place in the Demonio family for a long time. But Franco, you’re a cop. You had to know from the start there was always a ceiling on how far you could go.”