Page 1 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
MARCO
“The Brunos senta clear message when they took out Father Alfredo and violated the sacred truce between the Church and the mob: They will show no mercy,” Armani says. “This is full-out war. Don’t you get it, Marco? We are fucked because of you.”
My brother’s fingers splay across the top of his desk, a move meant to keep him from strangling me, I’m sure. Keeping my distance on the other side of the office, I hold his gaze so he knows I’m not about to back down or make excuses.
“The Brunos—”
“Killed a fucking priest!” he cuts me off. “The priest who married you to the Brunos’ trump card. Not only did you take their pawn away from them, you basically took a shit on their doorstep on your way out.”
He’s right. I did. But until this moment, I didn’t care about any of that. Because until a few moments ago, I didn’t know Father Alfredo had been killed.
He’d been our family priest since before my brothers and I were even born. The thought of him dying because of me turns my stomach. Murders in the name of the “business” in general rub me wrong…but a priest? And a kind, funny, not to mention elderly one at that. The Brunos have crossed a line. They’ve been crossing lines left and right ever since they started threatening my family, but this is…beyond. Taking out a member of clergy is an absolute breach of the understanding between the mob and the Church. Something like this can’t be ignored.
I’ve never seen Armani this level of pissed off before, either. Something about the way he’s holding himself screams at me that I’d better watch myself. Never have I not trusted my brothers, but right now, I wouldn’t dare turn my back. Not to mention, Armani has turned into a much darker person ever since my brothers and I got dragged back into the mafia last year. He’s colder now. More distant, even when he’s at home—and a lot more ruthless. Sometimes he scares me.
“It can’t be undone,” I say, still reeling.
“No shit, it can’t fucking be undone.”
He stands to his full height and puts his hands on his hips, inadvertently pushing the side of his jacket back and revealing the grip of the gun at his hip. He doesn’t say anything for a while, leaving plenty of open space for me to think about Father Alfredo. Fuck. If the Brunos were willing to off him, there’s no telling what they’d do if they got their hands on Karina again.
She wouldn’t die quickly, I’m sure of that.
Fine, my family is pissed about the wedding, but I’ll be damned if we’re not going to come together to protect my new bride. I can’t risk anything happening to her. She’s here now, as much a part of us as Frankie was when she was thrown unwillingly into this family of sharks, and we’re going to keep Karina safe as much as any other Bellanti wife. My brothers might be mad, but they wouldn’t dare leave my partner unprotected.
“We’ve got a bigger problem now. We obviously have a mole.” Armani folds his arms, his biceps pulling tight against his jacket sleeves. “Someone knew about the wedding as soon as it happened. If not in advance.”
I consider this a moment. “It’s possible. Though I can’t think of anyone in our inner circle who would do something like this.”
“Don’t be a fool. It’s your wife.” Armani shakes his head, clenching his jaw. “She’s playing all of us. Don’t tell me the sex is that great that you’re completely blind to it?”
Heat roils through my body, anger flaming from the depths. “Watch yourself.”
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Do you hear yourself right now? How can you be in denial? You marry her, bring her here, and the next morning the priest is killed. Someone fed that intel to the Brunos on a silver fucking platter. It was her. I didn’t even know that fast!”
“No. It’s not Karina. She’s terrified of her uncle. She was a prisoner in that house. What possible benefit would she gain, being a mole for the people she wanted to get away from?”
“I don’t know, man. You tell me. She’s your wife, unless you didn’t actually take time to get to know this woman and just, I don’t know, married her on a fucking whim.”
Cocking my head, I watch my brother as he moves with predatory grace from behind his desk. Armani is the muscle of the family. He’s quiet about it, like an assassin moving in shadow, never seen. Never heard. He doesn’t speak about the things he does to clean up messes and remove threats, nor do I ever ask. But I know him. I know what he does.
I’ve always known, even though younger me denied that the brother I so looked up to had perpetual blood on his hands. Armani takes care of all of us by doing the things Dante and I can’t or won’t. He’s our protector, always has been. And I respect him for that. But right now, I fear him a little bit too. My adrenaline is pumping as I witness his suspicion and anger toward Karina, and I’m terrified it’s going to grow into something dangerous. Something fatal. I’d hoped that I could count on my brothers to help me protect my wife, but I see now that was wishful thinking.
One brother is definitely out. And he’s glaring at me like he wants to rip my head off with his bare hands.
“The wedding was fast, yes.” My voice is calm and even. “I don’t know everything about Karina, no. But I do know that she’s not a mole.”
His grin is cocky. “Okay, then who is it? Frankie? Maybe her sister, Livvie? Oh, wait, no. Because Livvie’s missing. Probably thanks to the Brunos. So it must be Frankie then, right?”
He’s mocking me, but I don’t respond. Armani is a live wire right now, and I know I need to temper myself.
My brother stalks over to the window. Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, he turns his back to me and sighs deeply. “I don’t get it, Marco. Any of this. This isn’t like you.”
I raise a brow, not that he can see, and sink into the leather chair. I don’t totally get it myself. Never have I reacted to a woman the way I have to Karina. She sucked me in from the literal second I laid eyes on her. Before I knew who she was. Well, before I knew what I might gain from winning her over.
All of my past romantic partners have wanted something from me—access to VIP clubs and parties, endless wining and dining and good times on my tab, the benefit of my family name and my status. They all came from a stereotypical cookie cutter. All flash, no substance. Not that I thought it mattered at the time. But Karina…Karina is real. The way she responds to me isn’t saccharine or faked. Her sweetness and innocence and complete absence of selfishness blew me away from the get-go. She says she loves me, and I truly believe that she does.
But I don’t dare tell any of this to Armani. In his mind, Karina is the enemy and now’s not the time to attempt to permeate his thick skull with the truth about my wife. I’ve never experienced the feelings she drums up in me. Why would I try to explain to my brother how I feel about Karina when I can’t even describe it to myself?
“You don’t have to get it, Armani,” I finally say. “It’s my life and my choice and it’s done. Just leave it alone.”
Throwing his hands up, he spins to me. “Typical Marco. ‘Just leave it alone.’ You think we can just leave it alone that the Brunos have declared war on this family?”
“No,” I say. “But my marriage is my business. End of discussion.”
I try to act unaffected, even as my mind swirls with little red flags of warning.
“I’m going to have to do a lot of shit that I don’t want to do because of you, Marco. Do you understand that? This mess you’ve created—and for what, a taste of forbidden pussy?—I’m going to have to clean it up. Do you understand that?”
I deflate a little. So does he as he rests a hand on the edge of his desk and closes his eyes.
“I do understand,” I say.
