Page 214 of Vicious Intentions
But I don’t belong to the Outfit.
I never took theomertà. I never swore loyalty to thefamiglia.
The only vows I ever made were to my husband on our wedding day.
And those are the only vows I intend to honor.
Matteo is alive.
Alive.
Which means there’s still hope.
“Take me to my husband,” I demand, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I’ve lived without him long enough.”
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 theomertà.
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.
