Chapter 48
Stella
This is a bad idea. A fucking clusterfuck of a bad idea.
Marcello should never have told Annamaria that we were holding Matteo. She’s still too twisted up over that bastard, her mind too corrupted by him for the news not to shake her to her very core.
I still can’t believe that Donato scumbag forced her to marry him.
When Marcello gives me the go-ahead, I’m going to make the asshole suffer for it.
Slowly. I’ll carve him apart piece by piece, dance to his screams, and laugh while he bleeds out at my feet.
And once I’ve killed the motherfucker, I’ll resurrect him just so I can do it all over again.
He messed with the wrong Romano sister.
Watching him die might just be the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.
But first, I have to take Anna to the dipshit, because Marcello wants to test a theory of his and see if the suspicions brewing in his head are true. Whatever those suspicions are.
All I know is that my brother is playing with fire. Worse, he’s playing with our sweet sister’s emotions. She’s already fragile, her mind tortured enough as it is. Who knows what seeing that fucker again will do to her?
“Breathe, milaya,” Kirill whispers, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rubs up and down my thigh.
His touch is enough to simmer my anger down. Probably for the best. I’ll need every ounce of it when I finally get that fucking Donato alone in a room.
Marcello will probably want his turn with him too. Jude might also want in on the fun. The twins, not so much. Enzo and Lucky don’t have the stomach for it, which is why they abstained from taking the omertà.
They’re fine working tech for the Outfit, just as long as they don’t have to get their hands dirty.
To each their own, I guess.
I’ve always slept better after a hard day’s work slitting my enemies’ throats. But I suppose working behind a computer to make sure our fortune keeps growing is useful in its own way too.
But the twins aren’t my concern right now.
Annamaria is.
I throw a glance at the rearview mirror and find my sister staring out the window while the world passes her by. I hate how trapped inside herself she’s become, locked away in a place none of us can reach.
Even Kostya and his golden retriever personality can’t seem to get through to her. Sitting beside Anna, he throws me a helpless shrug, as if perfectly in tune with my thoughts.
We weren’t even supposed to be spending Christmas in Chicago this year. We were supposed to celebrate it in Russia with Misha and my beautiful niece, Nadya, alongside Lucky, Frankie, and Darius.
Like Anna, my brother-in-law has become a recluse of sorts, uncaring that there’s a great big world out there waiting for him. The only thing he cares about now is his garden—Elena’s resting place.
Thank God Nadya is only three years old, too young to realize her own father can barely look at her. She probably thinks Sasha is her dad for all the time Misha spends with her.
We were planning a small intervention during the holidays, hoping to open Misha’s eyes to what his ongoing grief will eventually do to his daughter. That his neglect will have consequences if he’s not careful.
But then Annamaria got kidnapped.
And every plan we made went straight out the fucking window.
Not that she seems to care whether we’re here or not.
In fact… as much as it pains me to admit it, I’m pretty sure my sweet sister hates us now.
No. Not us.
Me.
She hates me for killing her so-called husband. That’s why she refuses to even look at me. Talk to me. And being shunned by Annamaria feels like the sun itself decided to stop shining on you.
I kept telling myself that with time, she would love me again. That eventually she’d realize she’d been manipulated. That she’d been nothing more than a pawn Matteo used to hurt our family. That he never truly loved her, no matter what lies he whispered in her ear.
And if I just gave her enough grace, enough time, then eventually she’d come to that realization on her own.
At least… that’s what I hoped.
But now she knows the bastardo is alive. Who knows what kind of mind games he’ll be able to play on her if we give him the chance.
Like I said, bringing Annamaria to see that fucker is one hell of a bad idea.
What is Marcello thinking?
“We’re here,” Kill says, turning off the engine.
I was so lost in my turbulent thoughts that I hadn’t even realized he’d parked the car.
Annamaria is the first to jump out of the back seat, with Kostya quickly following after her before she can wander too far ahead.
“You need to go easy on your sister,” Kirill murmurs, sensing where my head was at.
“Easy for you to say. None of your brothers have been possessed by pod people. I swear it’s like I’m staring at a completely different person.” My throat constricts painfully. “I miss my sister, Kill. I really fucking miss her.”
“I know, dusha moya. I know,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against my face, my chin, my cheeks, and finally my lips, knowing exactly how to soothe the storm raging inside me.
I take a deep breath before stepping out of the car. Annamaria and Kostya are already waiting by the club’s entrance.
With it being Christmas Eve and all, my dad, Gio, closed the club for the night. Good thing too, considering no one expected this particular visitor to show up on our doorstep.
My sister looks like she’s about to burst out of her skin with the way I’m making her wait. Honestly, I’ll take her resentment any day over her silence. She hasn’t had a real conversation with me since we brought her home, and that shit has been eating me alive.
Annamaria and I used to be inseparable. She was my better half.
And now…
I hate Matteo for what he’s done to her. For turning her against her family. Against me.
Let them have this little reunion. It’ll be the last time that motherfucker ever sees her anyway.
After tonight, there’s no way in hell I’m letting that monster near my sister again.
This time, I’ll make sure I don’t miss.
And the asshole stays dead.
I pretend not to notice the daggers Annamaria throws at me as I lead everyone into the club and downstairs toward the basement. Guards line the corridor, the same soldiers who hauled him inside after he knocked on the door.
The asshole didn’t even bother hiding why he was here.
He just showed up at my father’s club demanding to see his wife.
I tilt my head toward the guards stationed outside the room, silently ordering them to move aside.
But the second I open the door, Anna shoves past me and rushes inside before I can stop her.
“Matteo!”
“Fuck… Anna!”
My sister throws herself into his lap, cradling his face as she kisses him with everything she has.
“I thought you were dead,” she sobs between frantic kisses.
“I know. I know, sweetheart.” His voice breaks as he struggles against the bindings holding his arms behind the chair. “I’m alive. I’m here.”
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” she cries. “I’ve died every single day since the last time I saw you.”
“Fuck, me too, vita mia.” His eyes shine with unshed tears as he desperately fights against the restraints just to touch her. “I love you so much. So fucking much.”
“I love you too. So much, Matteo. So much.” She keeps kissing him.
“These last few weeks have been hell on earth without you. Ti amo tanto, vita mia.”
“Ti amo così tanto, amore mio. Tanto.”
“Stella,” I hear my husband murmur behind me, his warm hand settling against my back.
“I know,” I grit out, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me.
I knew my sister had been brainwashed into believing she was in love with Matteo, but wouldn’t you know it… it looks like he’s just as delusional as she is.
No. This isn’t a delusion. He really loves her. It’s clear as day now.
Which makes this entire situation a fucking mess.
“Please.” Anna turns toward me, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Untie him. Please, Stella.”
My heart cracks at the agony in her voice.
“Kostya,” I say quietly, silently asking my brother-in-law to do the honors.
“You sure?” he asks, his brows furrowing.
“Please, Stella,” my baby sister begs again.
“I’m sure,” I nod.
Kirill immediately wraps an arm around my waist, like he already knows I need his touch to steady the chaos raging inside my head.
Kostya walks over to Matteo, pulls out his blade, and cuts through the zip ties binding his bloody wrists behind the chair.
Matteo doesn’t hesitate for even a second, immediately engulfing Annamaria in his arms and kissing her like the rest of us no longer exist.
“I… um…” Kostya rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t think we should be here for this. Maybe we should, uh… give them some privacy.”
“No,” I answer evenly.
There’s no way in hell I’m leaving my sister alone in this room with Matteo until I’m certain she’s safe. For all we know, the bastard could just be a damn good actor waiting for the perfect moment to turn on her the second we let our guard down.
“Dusha moya,” Kirill murmurs against my ear, his arm tightening around my waist. “If it were us, you’d want someone to show us the same kindness. They need a minute alone to… reconcile.”
My jaw ticks, but I remain rooted to the spot.
Kirill lets out a sigh but doesn’t argue with me.
Instead, we stand there watching Anna completely unravel in Matteo’s arms while he holds onto her like letting go might actually kill him.
And by the looks of it… maybe it would.
“You shouldn’t have come, my love. It’s a miracle my family hasn’t killed you already,” Anna cries between desperate kisses.
“Nothing and no one could’ve kept me away from you, wife. I’ve been so fucking lost without your light.”
“Me too,” she sobs. “I’ve missed you so much. So much, my love. I couldn’t bear another day without you.”
“You won’t have to,” Matteo whispers against her lips. “Not anymore. I’m here, Anna. I’m here.”
Damn it.