I’ve experienced the destruction he’s brought about with his deceit, the underhanded deeds he’s committed without remorse. And I’ve seen firsthand what happens when the Wolf Pack gets involved with unrest or dissension among members of the crime syndicate. In a world where thieves, murderers, and schemers thrive, there is a code, a set of laws the underworld has.
And it supersedes all others.
An entire territory full of organized crime—involving people whose intent is to circumvent the rules laid down by the government—respects the syndicate’s code of honor.
There’s a special type of irony in that.
It only takes one crime boss to be made an example of, and the rest fall into line like obedient soldiers waiting for their next order to be given. I’ve seen the methods used by the Wolf Pack, and I respect them. Like a bull changes direction at the sight of red, a person changes their behavior at the sight of blood.
Both crimson. Both dangerous omens.
“You may now,” Father Aldo says, his voice a wheeze, “kiss the bride.”
Caruso crosses his arms. “About fucking time.”
Ignoring everyone in the room, I turnla donnacciato me. This is the first time I’m looking at her face after knowing she’s a virgin, and if I hadn’t felt the tightness of her cunt, I wouldn’t believe it.
I grip her chin and tip it up so I can see into her eyes. “Kiss me.”
She blinks up at me, and it doesn’t take long for me to find the innocence lurking in their depths. She hides it well, but like opposites attract, I’m drawn to it with a force that’s disturbing. Yes, her gaze was shuttered when I lifted her head, but my command weakened her defenses just enough for me to find what she desperately tries to keep hidden.
Some of her secrets remind me of my own.
This, like many things about her, is unexpected.
Emilia is careful not to touch me when she gets on her tiptoes to reach me. And my height makes this a challenge for her, since I don’t bend down to assist.
This is how it will always be between us:la donnacciadoing my bidding.
Her lips sweep across mine, and for a second, I consider ravaging her mouth, to show her and everyone else present that she belongs to me to do whatever I will. But I’ve fucked around enough already by fingering her. So I grab her wrist and walk over to the desk, where the judge waits with a bored expression. Caruso beams at us as if he’s truly happy to welcome me into his family, not knowing I’d skin him alive if I thought I could do it and have him survive.
“Sign here and here, Mr. Silvestri,” Ben says. He hands me the pen, and without flourish I scrawl my name on the document. Then the judge turns to Emilia. “Please sign here and here, Mrs. Silvestri.”
Tucking a stray curl, she presses her lips together, the ones I’ve discovered are softer than any others, and takes the fountain pen. Her signature is elegant, and it reminds me of my assessment of her earlier. She does act like a queen, even after I fingered her in front of her father and a man of the cloth and groped her like thedonnacciaI named her to be.
Caruso claps his hands and grins, making his rounded cheeks all the plumper. “It’s done, then. I expect we can verbalize our agreement, or would you like to have it documented?”
I hand the marriage certificate to Ben, and he locks it away in his briefcase. To the judge, I say, “You’re free to go, but I expect that to be registered expediently, Your Honor.” Then I turn to Caruso and cock my head. “No.”
He gapes at me like a fish strewn on a beach, his jowls fluttering with his uneven breaths. I keep my features void of any emotion, but fuck me if seeing my enemy flounder doesn’t bring me loads of satisfaction.
“No?” Caruso parrots.
“You are correct. There is no agreement between us. The marriage certificate is only a layer of protection if you get fucking stupid and think about going to the police.” I shift my gaze to Father Aldo, who looks as if he’s one step away from initiating an exorcism. “You are free to go, Father. And be sure to offer up a prayer of intercession concerning me and my bride so God will bless our union.”
The priest scurries from the room, eyeing my men when he slips past them. His behavior is slightly amusing. And Caruso? He is by far the more entertaining of the two. If it weren’t for Dante’s weapon digging into his spine, I’m sure Caruso would attempt to shoot me with one of the guns that used to be in his desk drawer before I had my men remove them.
“What the fuck is going on, Silvestri?” He glances over to Emilia, and her entire body locks up. “Did you have something to do with this?” he asks her.
She shakes her head, and I yank her to me, causing her to careen into my torso. Her palms make contact with my chest, and she tilts her chin to look up at me in confusion. But I have my eyes set on her father. “You will not speak to her, Caruso. If you have a fucking question and wish for an answer, it’ll come from me. And you,” I say to Emilia without shifting my gaze to her, “will never speak to your father without my permission or you will regret it. Am I clear?”
I catch her nod from my peripheral vision, but I won’t spare her a glance while my enemy is losing his shit. Caruso’s nostrils flare with his every breath, and the blood has returned to his face, bringing with it a bright red as he struggles to control his anger. If only I could indulge further and torture him physically. However, I cannot steal any of that satisfaction from my brothers. It is their right as much as mine.
“You’re going to fucking regret this, Silvestri!”
I finally drag my focus away from Caruso and set it on Dante. “Knock him out so we can leave, but don’t accidentally kill him. His security should be rousing soon. Well, the ones who decided to cooperate.”
The dull sound of metal colliding with flesh is followed by Dante’s footsteps behind me as I head toward the door, my grip tight on Emilia’s wrist. My men fall into line, surrounding me on all sides, and within seconds, I’m opening the door to my vehicle.
