Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles #3)(10)

And I knew it to be true. Even if he decided he didn’t want me, he would never admit it. I’d always thought I could evade marriage, had always thought I could figure out a way to go to college, to find a life away from the mob world.

“I want to help you, but I don’t know how,” Aria said miserably.

“I love you, Aria. The only thing that stops me from cutting my wrists right now is the knowledge that my marriage to Matteo means I’ll live in New York with you.” I’d never considered suicide a valid option, had never felt miserable enough to do it. But sometimes it felt like the only choice I had left in my life, the only way to decide my own fate and to ruin Father’s plans was actually when to end it. But I’d never actually go through with it. I couldn’t hurt my siblings like that, and despite everything I clung to life too much.

“Gianna, you are the strongest person I know. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. If you hurt yourself, I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You are much stronger than me, Aria. I have a big mouth and flashy bravado, but you are resilient. You married Luca, you live with a man like him. I don’t think I could have done it. I don’t think I can.” I’d seen glimpses of Matteo’s darkness in New York when he’d offered to kill Aria’s attacker to make me happy, and afterwards in his eyes when he’d been covered in blood like Luca. There hadn’t been regret or guilt in his gaze then. Sometimes I thought he was the more dangerous of the two because he was less in control. Sometimes I thought he hid how messed up he was with his outgoing personality.

“We’ll figure it out, Gianna,” Aria said.

I knew she couldn’t do anything.

***

That evening Matteo f*cking Vitiello actually dared to call my phone. I ignored him. There was no way in hell that I’d talk to him. Not after what he’d done. If he thought this was over, if he thought he’d won, then he had another think coming.





CHAPTER FOUR


Matteo

I was ready for this f*cking day to be over. First Father’s funeral, and now hours of discussion with the Cavallaros and Scuderis about ways to keep the Russians at bay and to show them who was boss. It wasn’t like I needed time to grieve. Luca and I hadn’t harbored any feelings except for contempt and hatred for our father in a very long time but I wasn’t a fan of funerals and everything they entailed. Especially seeing my stepmother cry her fake tears had grated on my f*cking nerves. Did she really think anyone believed she actually missed her sadistic husband? She’d probably spit on his carcass when nobody was looking. It’s what I wanted to do.

The only good thing about this whole ordeal had been Gianna who had to attend the funeral with her family. She’d ignored my calls ever since she’d found out about our marriage a week ago, but she couldn’t avoid me forever. I was actually looking forward to our first private encounter. I loved when she was angry.

After the meeting, I was on my way to my motorcycle when I heard steps behind me. I turned, finding Luca running my way, the phone pressed against his ear and a thunderous look on his face.

Before I could ask him what had crawled up his ass, he lowered the phone and said. “Cesare called. The Russians are attacking the mansion. Romero is trying to get everyone to safety, but there are too many attackers.”

“Where are Gianna and Aria?”

“I don’t f*cking know. We’ll have to take a helicopter.”

I followed Luca toward his car. He floored the gas the moment we both had sat down. We should have never let Aria and Gianna leave for the Hamptons without us. We’d thought they’d be safer there. We’d thought our enemies would attack in the city where so many of the Outfit and from us had gathered to honor my father. We’d been f*cking idiots.

Luca hit the steering wheel. “I’m going to hunt down every f*cking Russian if they hurt Aria.”

“I’ll be at your side,” I said. I didn’t care how many Russians I’d have to cut into tiny pieces to get to Gianna. Damn it.

When we finally landed near our mansion in the Hamptons, Luca and I didn’t speak. We both knew we might be too late. “They are fine,” I said to Luca.

We got out of the helicopter and shot our way free until we reached the lobby of the mansion. I pulled my knife out of the throat of some * and straightened when one of the Russian bastards shouted from inside.

“We have your wife Vitiello. If you want to see her in one piece you better stop fighting and drop your weapons.”

Luca glanced my way. “Don’t do anything stupid, Matteo.”

“You aren’t the only one with something to lose,” I said grimly. “Gianna is in there too.”

Luca gave a nod, then slowly walked forward. I followed a few steps behind him. My eyes found Aria first. One of the Russian underbosses, a f*cker named Vitali, was holding a knife against her throat. Luca would kill the bastard.

“So this is your wife, Vitiello?” Vitali asked, but I barely listened.

Gianna was sprawled out on the floor, a huge bruise on her forehead. I could tell that she was trembling, from fear or pain, I wasn’t sure. Her blue eyes met mine. A huge Russian * towered over her. Bloodlust filled my body. I twisted my knives in my hands, trying to decide which part of the Russian’s body I’d slice off first, probably the hand he’d used to hit her.