Page 122 of Vicious Intentions
Tell him how much she loved him? Kiss him?
All these questions and the images they conjure are starting to do my head in. Every minute Raffaele takes to reach the abandoned airfield, every second he delays bringing Anna back to me, tightens the knot of anxiety in my chest.
I stare out of the airplane window, searching for any sign of my brother’s return.
What if he never comes back? What if he kidnaps her for himself, whisks her away to some unknown part of the world? Someplace too out of my reach?
There is no such place. I’d scour this entire planet looking for them if I had to. There would be no place he could hide from me.
No. Raffaele wouldn’t be so stupid. He might think he loves her, but his love is shallow at best. He wouldn’t go to the ends of the earth just to keep her at his side.
I, on the other hand, would do just about anything. I’d burn the world for Anna if she so much as asked me to.
I’d fucking die for one minute with her. Just one. That’s all I want. A minute with her in my arms. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too greedy a thing to even pray for?
Cazzo.
I’ve never been a praying man, but for Anna, formy Anna, I’d make a deal with God himself if I had to. The devil, too.
But what if Raffaele told her of my plans? What if his hate spoke louder than his duty, his loyalty to his own family?
Yes. Instead of worrying about what my brother would do in his misguided notions of loving my girl, perhaps I should focus on his hate for me. That isn’t shallow. His hatred is bone deep.
Porca miseria.
I can just see him now, telling her to run, run as fast as she can, away from him. To run back into her house and warn her father of my vicious intentions. What would happen then if he did that?
I couldn’t hand Raffaele over to the Cosa Nostra for the heads of the families to deal with his betrayal. I couldn’t live with his treachery either, knowing that I would lose any hope of ever having Anna by my side because of it. He would have won then.
Maybe not the girl, but he would have won the war we have been fighting since our brother Carlo died. Fuck.
Why didn’t I go get her myself?
The sound of tires screeching pulls me out of my spiral as a car races straight toward the jet. I don’t dare step outside when I hear a door slam, then another not long after.
Instead, I fix my gaze on the entrance, suddenly acutely aware of every beat of my heart.
One. Two. Three.
On the tenth thump, my brother steps into my private jet, with my Anna in his arms.
My hands clench at my sides at the very sight of the two of them together. My knee-jerk reaction is to snatch her out of his hands, but just as I take a step toward him, I freeze in place, coaxing Raffaele to tilt his head to the side and glower at me.
Damn it all to hell. My mother was right. For all intents and purposes, Anna is meant to be a pawn in my vendetta with the Outfit. I shouldn’t look this upset at the sight of her head resting in the crook of Raffaele’s shoulder. She shouldn’t mean anything to me. Nothing at all. Because what is a pawn to a king, anyway?
“You should see your face right now,” Raffaele says, disgust curling in his voice. “You want her so bad, and still you don’t want to show how much she weakens you, do you? All that talk about taking the Outfit down, about using Anna as your bargaining chip, it’s all for show. She’s the real prize, not the fucking throne of theCosa Nostra.”
I scowl at him but remain rooted to my spot.
“Oh, come on now, Matteo,” he taunts with an ugly sneer. “It’s only me here. I know it must kill you to see Anna in my arms right now. Admit it.”
My hands curl into fists, but I don’t move.
“Huh,” he mutters, looking far too pleased with himself. “And here I thought the only reason you wanted us to makethis trip to Chicago alone was so you wouldn’t have to hide your true feelings for Anna once she came on board. I mean, isn’t that why you insisted Nico stay in New York? Why you just had to come with me instead of appointing Nico or Rocco as my bodyguards?”
I stew at his words, and still I say nothing.
“Come on, Matteo. You’ve got to give me something. Tell me what you really feel for your bride-to-be. I promise I won’t be surprised. I already know,” he says, a slow, taunting smile spreading across his face. “You might have fooled everyone else, but you’ve never fooled me.” His grip on her tightens, just enough to make a point. “So go on. Say it. Or better yet, take her from me.” His eyes gleam with challenge. “Show me how far you’re willing to go for her. Let’s see what’s left of the ever cool, ever untouchable Matteo Donato.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “All this talk of power, of tearing down the Outfit, of claiming your place at the top of theCosa Nostra… and in the end, it’s a woman who brings you to your knees.” His ugly smile turns even more malicious. “Not just any woman, either. Your enemy’s daughter. I wonder how the heads of families would feel if they learned about your obsession with Anna.”
