Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(35)

The point being that she’s never seen this kind of violence. I thought she might faint when she saw the bloodied body lying facedown in the middle of the foyer when Gianni brought her up to her bedroom.

This has been quite the day for her.

For both of us.

I can still see Quinn’s face when he said, “I’d kill him for you.” I still hear that rough, urgent tone in his voice, see his burning, beautiful eyes.

All of it will be seared into my mind forever.

No one ever tried to help me. Everyone knew what was happening, what Enzo enjoyed doing to me, but nobody ever intervened. I was his wife and therefore his property, and in the Cosa Nostra, you can do with your property whatever you like.

Even my own mamma could only offer her shoulder for me to cry on.

After a while, there were no more tears left, so I didn’t even need that.

But Lili’s Irishman wishes he could’ve helped. I believe he would’ve, too, had he been around then to see it.

Maybe she’ll never love him. And maybe he’ll be moody or irritating or a slob, but now I believe he won’t hurt her beyond the petty ways husbands and wives can hurt one another, those small moments of unkindness, words spoken thoughtlessly or small deeds of neglect.

Quinn killed four men today. Protecting me—us, our family—he took four lives.

He would’ve taken on an army by himself if he had to.

Which convinced me, more than anything he could say, that she’ll be safe with him. It might not be a love match, but a man who will protect a woman with his own life is a rare thing.

So rare, I’ve never seen it before.

So although I might have wanted someone different for Lili, this Irishman will do.

“Buona sera, Reyna.”

I look up from the stove to see Leo entering the kitchen. He’s the same age as Gianni, and looks about the same, too. Slicked-back dark hair, custom suit, pinky rings. With their close height, build, and coloring, they could be brothers.

“Buona sera, Leo. Thank you for coming.”

He waves that off. “You look well. Not a scratch, eh?”

“Not a one.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I suppose you can’t scratch titanium.”

As is the way with all Gianni’s friends, he never looks right at me. He addresses me directly, but his gaze lands anywhere but on my face. I used to think it was respect, but now I think it’s fear.

Men don’t like unpredictable things they can’t control. Which is why they prefer dogs over cats.

“How’s your mother?”

“The same ray of sunshine as ever. And yours?”

“Her arthritis is worse.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Please send her my regards.”

“I will.”

Gianni walks in, nodding at me and clapping a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Smells delicious, sorellina.”

“I made enough for an army, so Leo’s men can come in and eat in shifts during the night.”

Leo looks surprised. “Thank you. They’ll appreciate that.”

“Soldiers can’t focus when their stomachs are growling.”

Gianni says proudly, “She would’ve made a good general in the army, eh?”

I know by the compliment that he’s getting ready to ask me to do him a favor. Otherwise, he’d be taking credit for teaching me everything I know about cooking.

He taught me nothing, of course. The man doesn’t even know how to boil water. Between Mamma, his late wife, and now me, he’s never made a meal in his life.

Quinn enters the kitchen, instantly making the room feel crowded. I have no idea how his presence takes up so much space, but it’s a gift. He pulls up a chair and sits at the table.

He doesn’t look at me, but I sense a huge change in him from when we last spoke. He’s glowering and agitated, drumming his fingers restlessly on the tabletop, a thundercloud of temper settled over his features.

Honestly, the man should see a doctor about his mood changes. A girl could get a broken neck trying to keep up.

Gianni glances at him as if waiting for permission to speak. When it doesn’t come, he says abruptly, “We’ve decided to move up the wedding date. For Lili’s own safety and—”

“I agree,” I interrupt, calmly stirring an enormous pot of carbonara sauce.

Quinn’s sharp gaze snaps in my direction. My body temperature rises several degrees. No one says anything for several moments, then Gianni clears his throat.

“Well…good. She needs a gown. And she’ll have to be all packed and ready to go to Boston. Her clothes and belongings, whatever she needs.”

“Of course. I’ll take care of everything. How much time do I have?”

“A week.”

My stirring falters for only the briefest of seconds before I start up again. “I see. The venue?”

Quinn says gruffly, “The Old North Church in Boston.”

Shocked, I glance up at him, meeting his penetrating gaze. “A church? Is that safe? Somewhere so public?”

“It’s our home parish. If the head of the Mob can be safely married there, so can his men.”

When I look at Gianni, he nods. I suspect they’ve had in-depth discussions about the exact safety precautions that will be put in place for the ceremony. Discussions I won’t be privy to, so I’ll just have to trust they know what they’re doing.