Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
ANDIE
The house comes into view. Beautiful and majestic. Late afternoon sunlight scatters over the metamorphic quartzite stone fa?ade, making the cream and beige color appear pinkish in hue. The house used to be the devil’s home, but as I look at it, I no longer see the shadows that used to lurk along every wall and in every window. When the massive, ornately carved double oak doors open, I don’t imagine myself walking through the gates of hell.
“Welcome ho?—”
I rip the cherry sucker from my mouth. “Don’t finish that sentence,” I warn Dante, then continue to enjoy the lolli that Paul gave me when we stopped at the gatehouse for the usual undercarriage and weapons check. It’s a precaution Max had implemented years ago because he was a paranoid fuck.
Rolling my shoulders back, I breathe deeply and hold my head high. I can’t believe I’m back here. Again. By choice this time because it was my idea to return to the Rossi estate. Like I told the guys in the conference room, I’m going to fight Alejandro on my terms and on my turf. Kind of like the spider and the fly from that children’s story.
Jax stops beside me and bends to my ear. “You gonna suck my dick like you’re sucking that lollipop?”
His comment catches me by surprise, and I pull out the candy when I start choking.
“Not the only thing you’ll be gagging on later,” he says with a naughty smile and a wink. Jax steals my sucker right out of my hand and sticks it in his mouth, making a show of moving it up and down his tongue.
I roll my eyes. Lame comeback, I know, but the best I could come up with because all I can now think about is dropping to my knees and licking his cock. He knows it too by the shit-eating grin he’s giving me.
His phone goes off and after reading whatever message he received, he says, “Give me an hour tops to take care of this, and then we’ll head over to Bastard’s.” His forefinger brushes the side of my hip like an artist’s paintbrush, as if he’s already imagining what will be inked there.
Bastard Ink is where the guys get all their work done. The owner, Bastard—no one knows his real name—is originally from North Carolina. He does work for a lot of celebrities, and every design covering Keane, Jax, and Rafe’s skin was by his hand. Keane already called him and set up a consult for me to discuss getting the flaming phoenix done on my back. For a piece that big, it’ll take a few sessions to complete. I also have a special request for Bastard. Something the men don’t know about, but something Bastard should be able to do tonight.
Dante chuckles and scratches his stubbled jaw. “There’s nothing left on you to ink, man, unless you shave your head.”
Alejandro flashes behind my eyes. His face leering at me through the cage bars. The tattoos crawling up his shaved head. The jagged scar crisscrossing his cheek. Those black, soulless eyes.
“Angel.”
Jax scores his thumb over my mouth, tracing over my top Cupid’s bow. I kiss it to let him know I’m okay, then tap the bridge piece of his glasses.
“One hour. Come get me if I don’t find you first.” He plants a swift kiss to my lips and jogs up the stairs, heading across the long mezzanine toward Max’s office.
I pull my gaze from Jax and am met with Dante’s smirking face.
“He seems happy, and not to sound like a dick, but it’s weird as fuck.” Dante opens his arms and I step forward into them. “It’s good to have you back, Andie,” he says, hugging me. “You look like you went twenty rounds with a Mack truck.”
“Been a rough few days,” I reply.
“I heard. I’m glad you’re okay.”
I get curious looks from a few men I recognize who worked for Max. Keane told me that he and Jax cleaned house, getting rid of the inside men Declan had planted. I hate that Matteo was one of the casualties. I never did get to talk to him about what he said regarding Kellan.
Dante gives me one final squeeze and lets go. I don’t think any of the other men here know that I’m not Max’s biological daughter. I doubt Keane has said anything. Doesn’t matter anyway. Keane is the don now, and I’ll soon be his wife. If anyone objects to either, they’ll regret it.
“How’s Enzo?” I ask Dante.
A trio of heavy footsteps climbs up the stone steps outside, and I glance behind me. I’m a little worried how Rafe and Liam will be treated while staying here once word gets out who Liam is, and that Rafe switched sides. Surely Rafe’s absence has been noticed. And mine.
“Up and about. Bored as hell because he can’t do much. Stupid fucker decorated his cane to look like a giant phallus. Bought a pair of those metal ball sacs you see hanging on the backs of trucks.” Dante laughs, and I join him as I picture a pair of steel balls dangling from a walking cane. “They look stupid as hell. Not to mention, you can hear him coming from a mile away.”
Dante’s amusement dries up when Keane, Rafe, and Liam join us. I really like Dante, but if he tries anything or throws a punch, I’ll lay him flat on his ass.
“Rafe.”
“Dante.”
Dante next eyes Liam for a tense second before thrusting his hand out in greeting. A handshake he didn’t offer Rafe. The brush-off Dante just delivered couldn’t be more obvious.
Keane barks a few orders at two of the men, telling them to take my luggage to his room. I brought clothes this time because there’s no way in hell I’m walking around in the too-tight dresses from my teenage years like I had no choice doing the last time I was here.
“Who says I’m sleeping in your room?” I ask him. I’m only teasing. Kind of. The guys’ rooms are in the east wing along with mine and Kellan’s, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep so close to those rooms that hold too many memories.
In front of Dante, the guys, and the rest of the men milling about, Keane wraps a long-fingered hand around my nape and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, the heat in his hazel eyes making me breathless.
His voice lowers an octave. “My bed is the biggest.”
Pornographic images of the last time I was in his bed fill every brain cell in my head. He and Jax and Liam. The things we did together. The things I want to do again.
“I’m not sleeping in your fucking room.” Liam bends to pick up his black duffel where he dropped it on the floor, but Keane gives it a hard push with his foot, sending it sliding across the polished marble.
“Something we both can agree on,” Keane replies. “Take that upstairs and drop it inside any of the guest rooms,” he instructs one of the guards.
Rafe’s head slowly rotates from side to side, his blue eyes introspective. “Looks like you’ve been doing some redecorating.”
He wasn’t here when I went postal with the crowbar. The foyer and entryway are empty of the tacky, expensive artwork and showy collectibles. No imposing portrait of Max hangs on the wall. I hated that damn thing the minute I saw it and am glad that it’s gone.
“Andie thought it was time.”
Rafe peers down at me with a questioning look, and I smile innocently.
“Got a minute, boss?” Dante shifts his weight, angling it slightly to indicate he needs to speak with Keane privately.
Pivoting around to face Keane, my hands circle his biceps, which instinctively flex under my touch. “Go. I’ll get Rafe and Liam settled in.”
I kiss each of his cheeks, then take his right hand between mine. I bring it to my lips, bowing slightly and kiss the ring on his finger, then press it lightly to my forehead.
My display of respect catches the attention of the other men around us. They just witnessed the daughter of the former Rossi don pledge her allegiance and support to the new don. Of course, I did it on purpose.
Placing a fingertip underneath my chin, he lifts my downturned face and brushes his mouth over mine, claiming me in front of his men, which must be confusing for those who saw Jax kiss me. They can get over it. I’m not going to hide how I feel about all four men.
“I won’t be long.”
“Jax said he had some stuff to take care of. Hour tops.”
He lingers a moment, his eyes touching every part of my face before settling on my mouth. My face still bears several ugly bruises, but the right kind of makeup does wonders, and I used a ton of it to help cover the worst areas.
“Go,” I insist.
Keane and Jax stayed away long enough to be with me at Falcon Tower. No matter how many times Keane assured me Dante was handling things in their absence, I knew better. The heavy crown of responsibility lies directly on Keane’s head if he wants to remain don. There will always be someone trying to take what’s yours unless you have the power to stop them. Our marriage will give him that power and a new ally—the Levines, and by association, the Irish mafia.
With a nod, he joins Dante at the bottom of the stairs. Keane stops briefly on the balcony landing and looks down at me. Max did the same thing the day the guys brought me back home after Kellan’s cabin was destroyed.
I wait until they disappear up the stairs and head in the same direction Jax went before saying, “I need a drink.” Something cold to help dispel the heat that Keane just ignited inside me.
“It feels weird being back,” Rafe says.
As we head to the kitchen, I thread my arm under his, and he bends his elbow to support my injured hand. The house has two kitchens. One that is private for family use only, and a larger, industrial one used by the culinary staff to prepare meals. The family kitchen is where Kellan taught me how to bake. The place we would sit and talk while I did my homework. It’s where Rafe kissed me for the first time.
Liam isn’t familiar with the layout of the house, and I slow down my steps to give him a chance to check things out. I’m curious to know if he sees it the same way I do—ostentatious and gaudy. The last time we were here, he only saw a few of the rooms: the basement room with the cage, the dining room, my bedroom, and Keane’s room. The house does have a few redeeming features. Liam is an avid reader like me and would love the library. It was one of my favorite places as a kid to escape. I could pretend, just for a short while, to live in the fictional worlds of the pages. I could become that character in my mind. Anything to give me reprieve from the abuse and pain I endured every fucking day of my life.
When we enter the private kitchen, I aim straight for the fridge and search its contents. Grabbing the pitcher of iced tea, I take a sniff and hum when I detect a sweet peach fragrance.
“When you said you needed a drink, I thought you meant something different.”
Rafe hops up on top of the center island, and I hand him the tea pitcher so I can get three glasses from the upper cabinet.
I hold one glass out for Rafe to fill, then give it to Liam, who scowls at it.
“It’s good. Trust me.”
Europeans tend to turn their noses down at iced tea. To them, it’s sacrilegious to drink tea that isn’t piping hot.
“I’m pretty sure there’s some honey whiskey or gin around,” Rafe suggests.
Liam looks almost green. “God, no. That sounds even worse.”
Stepping into Liam, I sip my tea, then crook my finger at him. As soon as our lips touch, I lick the seam of his mouth, and he opens for me on a hum. My tongue dips inside, slowly stroking his, so he can taste me. A hot ember of desire erupts into a full-blown fire as Liam deepens our kiss. He pushes me backward until I’m up against the counter island next to Rafe.
“You’re not going to fuck her in front of me in the kitchen,” Rafe says, setting his tea down on the granite hard enough to crack the glass.
Sooner or later, we’re all going to need to sit down and have a discussion about our expectations—about what the guys want as well as what I need for this relationship to work. I already know Jax and Keane have no hang-ups when it comes to group sex. Would I want to be with all four of them? Hell, yes. I’d never experienced anything like the night I spent with Jax, Keane, and Liam. But that night was different. I needed them to help me bury the trauma of what Max did to me. Something that I chose for myself, and not something that was forced on me without my consent.
Spying a crystal dessert dome filled with colorful macaroons, I lift the lid and choose one of each color, immediately biting into the almond-flavored one. The light, airy cookie literally melts on my tongue.
“God, I forgot how much I missed these,” I say with my mouth full.
I hold the pink raspberry one out for Rafe. He circles my wrist and brings the cookie to his mouth, biting it in half. A delicious tingle builds in my core when he stares at me like it’s not the cookie he wants to be eating right now. Giving myself time to cool off, I finish off the other half, licking the sugar from my fingers and smile at Liam when I see him watching. The intense sexual pull between me and the guys is undeniable. But I don’t question it, even though a part of me wonders, why me? What makes me so special? What is it about me that draws the interest of four different, yet equally dangerous men?
Rafe hops off the counter and takes my hand, pulling me toward the French doors that lead out onto the back portico.
“Where are we going?”
“Want to take my girl for a stroll,” he replies.
After being exposed to the full sun all day, I can feel the heat that radiates up from the stone pavers as soon as we step out into the back courtyard. The warm evening air smells of the climbing roses that are blooming on the arbor trellis we walk under. Rafe plucks a smaller red bloom from one of the thorny vines and tucks it behind my ear. The sweet gesture isn’t lost on me. Liam comes up behind me, and I wrap his arms around my middle.
He drops his chin to the top of my head. “This is nice. Much better than inside.”
“Cecelia designed it.”
I don’t add that my mother loved her garden more than her daughter. I used to despise this garden, but looking at it now, I can’t deny how beautiful it is.
The grand feature of the Roman-inspired peristyle garden is the reflecting pool with a large fountain in the center of it. A beige stone portico and Corinthian pillars surround the garden’s perimeter. The last time I was out here with Keane, I’d noticed the new addition of the butterfly mosaics along the paver stone pathway. Maripositas . Little butterflies. Which reminds me?—
“I talked to Sarah last night. We should do another video call, so she can see all of us.”
I make a point to lean farther back into Liam, so he knows he’s included as well. Sarah will be thrilled to inherit a new “uncle,” who will spoil her like Rafe, Keane, and Jax do. There’s no doubt in my mind that Liam will love and protect her just like the other guys do.
“I miss her,” Rafe says.
“Me too.”
But Sarah’s safety comes first, and she’ll remain in Ireland with Declan’s relatives for the time being. If Alejandro or Julio got their hands on her, they wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get to me or the guys.
“Do you think our initials are still visible on the tree?”
The smile Rafe gives me is so fucking sexy. “Let’s go find out.”
There’s a twenty-foot magnolia tree at the other end of the peristyle that Rafe carved our initials into. On the nights when Max was gone and I wasn’t able to meet with Rafe at our spot in the park, I would come out here and sit beside the tree to feel close to the blue-eyed boy who stole my heart and never gave it back.
As we duck back under the trellis arch to take the path that leads to the tree, the hairs on my neck stand on end when I feel eyes on me. Being a young woman growing up in a house full of mafia soldiers and made men, I had to grow a thick skin real quick. I learned to block out all the nasty innuendos and not-so-funny propositions thrown my way from men who were much older than me. It was a constant battle.
I catch sight of two guards patrolling the garden, one of them vaguely familiar. It’s not until I hear the low-mumbled “whore” and something that sounds like “stupid Mexican piece of shit” that it clicks who he is.
I’m reacting before my brain catches up, and I close the ten feet separating me from the two guards. In seconds, I have my nails digging into Mika’s throat.
What the fuck is he still doing here? Mika is the guard who groped me at the gatehouse. He called me a whore. Rafe bashed his head in the car door for touching me.
“You’re not a very smart man, Mika. You better be glad that it was me and not Rafe who heard you.” I increase the pressure on his neck until the tips of my fingernails break the skin. A strange sensation overcomes me when I see the blood begin to ooze out in tiny tributaries along his neck, and suddenly, I’m back at the warehouse with my Grim Reaper, his hands touching me, his words guiding me.
“You stupid bi?—”
I don’t know how my knife gets in my hand, or why I do what I do next. All I remember is the feel of Mika’s warm, red blood pouring out over my skin. How it seeps between my fingers and drips down my arm. How his curdled scream fills my ears.
And how much I like it.