Page 217 of Vicious Intentions
“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.
“Fine.” I spin on my heel and motion toward the hallway for Kostya and Kirill to follow. “Let’s give them a minute.”
“Thank fucking Christ,” Kostya groans, practically sprinting out the door.
I follow after him and Kirill, unable to stop myself from glancing over my shoulder one last time. Anna’s lips are still fused to her husband’s like she’s terrified he’ll disappear if she pulls away.
I close the door behind me and lean against it, pressing my closed fists against my temples.
“Well… that definitely wasn’t on my bingo card.”
“No shit,” Kostya snorts. “I thought the motherfucker was supposed to be some cold-blooded psychopath. That’s not the man I just saw in there, babe.”
“First of all, stop calling my wife babe,mudak,” Kirill barks at his baby brother before turning back to me and settling his large hands gently on my hips. “And secondly…” His voice softens. “That wasn’t the Boss of the Cosa Nostra we just saw. That was a man desperately in love with his wife. There was real pain in his eyes,milaya. The kind of pain only a man who’s been separated from the love of his life can understand.” A sad smile tugs at his mouth. “I know that feeling well.”
I press my forehead against his chest and force myself to breathe.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?”
“It should,” Kirill answers, threading his fingers through my hair. “But I doubt the Outfit will care whether their marriage is real or not. Matteo is still enemy number one. He’s the Boss of the Cosa Nostra. There’s no way he walks out of that room alive.”
My husband is right.
It doesn’t matter if their love is real. Matteo is still our enemy. Because of him, dozens upon dozens of Outfit men are dead. We’re supposed to make an example out of him, not show him mercy.
But suddenly, the thought of killing him doesn’t feel like justice anymore.
It feels cruel.
“I don’t want to become my sister’s murderer,” I whisper brokenly. “Because if Matteo dies… that’s exactly what I’ll be.”
“So don’t be,” Kirill says, brushing my hair back and tilting my chin up until I’m forced to look into his beautiful dark eyes. “Don’t be the instrument that steals your sister’s happiness away. Be her salvation instead.”
I take in his words, praying that I can live up to them.
“Okay.” I let out a breath. “Let’s see what he has to say for himself first. Then we’ll take it from there.”
