Chapter 23
HAYES
Staring at Roman, in the house that abused me, I fist my hands at my side while rage curls into my gut.
He was given the rights to a kingdom—money, status, everything.
I had a padded cell in the basement, left to rot like garbage.
I hate everything he is—what he represents.
But I hate that he touched my fiancée more.
Stalking into the foyer, I curl my lip at the ostentatious wealth of the Bruno home. A lush compound built with red brick and white trellises, there are crawling red and pink roses covering the front. In the back is a green hedge maze and a huge five car garage sits to the side.
The focal point is the wrought iron balcony at the front, where serenades and sonnets can be sung off with Shakespearean flair. It’s beautiful, except for the permanent stain of blood from desperate women flinging themselves from the rails.
It’s a better outcome than most.
The white walls of the foyer are perfectly decorated with timeless works of art and a gaudy overhead light. The long staircase, covered in retro pink carpet wraps around to the black and white tile under my feet. Security stands in the alcoves, hidden.
They’ve learned to double their efforts when I escaped.
Roman rubs a ring on his pinky, a large ruby that signifies his leadership in the family. It’s the ring my father always wore. I have the intense urge to break his finger, take the ring and throw it into the harbor.
Staring at him, I stop a few feet away. Fury rises like a rising flood, ready to consume me whole.
He hurt Collins. He touched what was mine.
“Brother,” he greets and it hits me like a physical blow.
Brother. We look nothing alike. He has our father’s dark eyes, whereas I have my mother’s. He’s pale like his mother and I’m darker like Senior.
We have the same nose and chin. But we couldn’t be any more different.
“I heard you paid my fiancée a visit at work, today.” I knock off the vase, sending it shattering to the floor. The echo of guns clocking is heard overhead but my eyes don’t leave Roman.
“You mean, my wife?” His eyebrow rises.
I bare my teeth. “She’s not yours.”
“Not yet,” he amends. “But, she will be. Ace only has to sign on the line. And we both know how fickle she is in her decisions.”
I want to stab him. Cut out his heart and shove it down his throat.
“She can’t give something away that doesn’t belong to her. Collins is my fiancée—you touch her again, and I’ll break your jaw.”
He stops, looking at me with a bright gaze. It’s the same look Senior gave my mother after he broke her—turned her into a shell of who she used to be. The same calculating glance he gave me when I begged for the men to stop coming into my room.
“I suppose congratulations are in order.” He glides around me, too far to touch. “She wears your mother’s ring.”
"Looks good on her, doesn't it?" I wink though murder still sings in my veins.
“It belongs here. It was our father’s.”
“Your father.” I shrug. “Also, if we’re trying to dick around on property rights, my mother was killed with it on her finger. So finder’s keepers, right?”
He clenches his jaw. “Why are you here?”
I kick the foyer table over. It splinters, legs breaking off and the crash vibrates outward. “I thought that was obvious?” I take out my gun, holding it at my side. “We were chatting about your inability to keep your fucking hands to yourself.” I shoot once at the wall beside his head.
He ducks low. Fucking pussy. If I wanted to hit him, I would.
The guns move again, everything clicking. I glance upward, grinning. “Go ahead, Roman. Shoot Ace’s number one. Let’s see how long before she fucking burns your family to the ground.”
“Always hiding behind skirts,” he taunts. A muscle bounces by my ear and I fight the insatiable need to blow another bullet—this time into his head. “Tell me. Does Collins know you take cock? Or are you leaving something for the wedding night?”
I snap. Fury explodes from my gut, long since buried and I surge forward, wrapping my larger hand around his neck. Swinging him into the air, I cut my nails into his flesh and enjoy the fear and pain that fills his beady little eyes.
As a child, I was always the weak one. Not anymore.
“Oh, Collins doesn’t know,” he spits, gurgling on his words. I hold tighter. “Afraid she’ll never accept you?”
“Afraid I might snap your neck?” I lean into his face. “It’s a very real possibility. You went after my future wife. You fucked with my family. I should end you. Right here. Right now.”
“And, what?” He smirks, cheeks turning purple. “Start a war? Aren’t you supposed to be off my territory, brokered by your bitch?”
That’s it. I’m killing him. Maeve will forgive me.
“Hayes,” a soft voice says to my left.
I freeze. I know that voice. Growing up in this house, I didn’t have much to live for. I didn’t see the sun, I didn’t have a loving mother. But I did have Valentina, my younger sister.
Born after Julian, she was my only friend.
With big hazel eyes and thick dark hair, she looked more like me than not.
She was sunshine in physical form, but could turn deadly when angered.
There were times she’d fight men who came to see me.
I agonized about leaving her when I escaped, but so far, she had never been touched.
As the only daughter, Senior kept her away from the family business and doted on her.
If I took her, I would be asking for more trouble than if I slinked off into the shadows, alone. I’ve regretted my choice every day since.
Val stands in the foyer, dressed in a simple black dress, her hair long, her nails painted a shade darker than blood. Those hazel eyes are rimmed in kohl, but she looks drawn and tired.
I drop Roman to the ground and kick him in the ribs. Something cracks and I take immense glee in that.
Val grabs my face, touching my beard and cheek, memorizing me. I do the same. She has a small scar on her eyebrow now and she’s thin—too thin. Do they feed her? Or does her stubbornness prevent her from giving in?
“You grew up,” she signs. Valentina, though beautiful, was born hearing impaired. She could read lips and with therapy had learned to speak, though it was easier to sign.
She taught me ASL when she would sneak into my room and keep me company.
Smiling sadly, I sign, “So did you.” It’s the first time I’ve seen her since I left. I couldn’t contact her because of Maeve’s agreement.
One I just blew up with this stunt.
I trace her brows, her Roman nose. “Are you alright?”
She nods into my chest but we both know she’s lying. There’s too much to say and not enough time.
Roman stands, coughing and mutters, “I should shoot you for attacking me.”
“I’ve seen your aim. I’m in no danger even if you tried.”
He curses me in Italian. His pronunciation is wrong. “You have a smart mouth for a guy used to being on his knees for other men.”
My fist collides with his face before I fully consider my actions. The pop of his nose, the feel of his teeth cutting my knuckles thrills me, humming in my blood. Nerves fire and I feel powerful—alive. He falls to the ground and red mars the perfectly clean tile.
“You have a weak jaw,” I say, smiling. Flexing my knuckles, I keep Val at my back. “I only get on my knees for my wife. Never you. Touch her again and I’ll make good on my threat. I’ll end you and make it horribly painful. And we both know, you can’t fucking stomach that.”
Val holds on to my arm and we share a look.
“And if you touch one hair on her head, I’ll be back, consequences be damned.” I throw him a smug look. “You should be nice to her. One day, she’ll rule this family and you’ll be begging her for leniency.”
I place a soft kiss on her forehead and sign that I love her. She smiles, eyes watery but she doesn’t cry. She’s too tough for that. I still wish I could take her out of this life—this home, but too many things are happening. I wouldn’t be able to protect her and Collins.
And Collins comes first.
“I’ll be back,” I promise.
She nods, saying, “I know.”
I get to the door, before Roman yells out, “She killed our brother. Still, you go back to her?”
“Your brother,” I remind him. “And he shouldn’t have killed a kid.”
He growls under his breath, blood dripping down his chin. “Collins is still due in on Saturday. If she doesn’t show up, do her normal routine, then that’s grounds for me to go to Ace. Tell her all about her perfect baby sister’s dirty dancing. I’m sure your precious Ace would enjoy that.”
It’s an empty threat. But I know how much Collins enjoys dancing, loves the attention, how it quiets her mind. How it gives her something to soothe that tainted side. Maeve wouldn’t care if she found out, but this is for my fiancée.
“We’ll be there.”