Chuckling at her words, I bent down and threw her over my shoulder as she squealed in surprise, beating my backside with her fists.
“What are you doing?”
I opened the door and walked with her to the deck, where people stared at us wide-eyed. Women gasped as their champagnes flutes fell, spilling the bubbly liquid, and musicians stopped playing. All gazes fixed on Vito, who casually smoked a cigar, leaning on the railing with an amused expression on his face. “Pakhan, you waste no time.”
Ines grabbed Ercole, shaking his arm. “What is this man doing?” Ercole stepped forward, but he was stopped by Vitya, who held him and Oliver at gunpoint. Oliver smirkedfor a second and then looked devastated. What the hell was that about?
“Angelica.” He placed his whiskey glass on the table. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Rosa rose up on my shoulder, clearly trying to make herself as presentable as possible in this rather ungraceful position. “Oliver, I can explain.” Smirking, I slapped her ass, acting the part of the big, chauvinistic brute.
“No, she can’t. She belongs to me now.” Then I turned my attention to Vito as I noticed from the corner of my eye that Michael had joined the Bratva. With a chin jerk to me, Michael indicated he had finished the job. “Vito, I like your niece and claim her as mine. Ask for whatever gift you want, but give her to me.”
This all might have sounded archaic to people outside the lifestyle, but everyone here knew the rules. Vito ruled everyone, and his word was absolute. With his permission, it didn't matter what her parents or even Angelica wanted.
We practiced and prepared the text three days ago as we included him in our plan. He raised his glass high, proclaiming, “She’s yours. I want the drug dealership to be settled soon.”
“Done.” If he’d given her to me without a condition, it would have looked strange and unbelievable.
“Uncle, you cannot do this to me!” Rosa screamed, but everyone ignored her while Vito’s men helped clear a path as we walked down to the dock with her still biting, scratching, and hitting my back all the way to the waiting BMW, where Igor already had the engine running. I gently threw her inside and joined her on the seat. Michael sat on the other side of her so she couldn't try to escape. With Vitya in the front seat, the vehicle headed rapidly toward the airport, which was located twenty minutes away.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Your man,” I answered simply, and it still surprised me she didn't understand this easy concept. She came on my cock twice, gave her beautiful body freely to me, yet she struggled with the knowledge that we belonged together.
Women.
“I didn't choose anyone! Vito can go to hell with his decisions and demands,” she screamed, her face wet with tears, making my heart ache. We couldn't have her hysterical through customs, so with an exhausted breath, I nodded to Michael, who injected her with a sedative. She stopped moving. Slowly resting her head on my shoulder, she whispered, “What did you do to me?”
“Rest, little one.” I caressed her cheek as her eyelids trembled and she tried to fight sleep, but it was useless. In a few seconds, she was out, breathing evenly, her chest moving up and down.
“Once she wakes up, she’ll be furious.”
“She’ll live.” As long as I fucking lived, I would never let my woman be anywhere but a few feet away from me or surrounded by my people, under the protection of the Bratva.
She’d just have to forgive me for loving her so much.
After a few minutes, we arrived to find Oleg had the private jet ready for us. I sat Rosa on a comfortable chair, fastened her seatbelt tight, and placed a pillow under her head. The flight would only take two and a half hours, so she didn't need to lie down. The medication should wear off around that time, so for a few moments, I could relax and enjoy the thought of my woman being safe in my arms, figuratively speaking.
Dropping onto the seat opposite her, I looked through the window and wondered if those nightmares would ever stop occurring in our lives so we could finally have the happiness we deserved so much.
Rosa
My head kept sliding down the surface as my neck ached, and I couldn't understand why my bed in our house was so uncomfortable. With a harsh bump that made me almost jump, my eyes snapped open, and I gasped as I understood the source of my discomfort.
I was in a freaking plane, a private jet with all the luxurious necessities, which had just landed. Taking a minute, I studied the furniture, which was created from expensive wood. The main area with six wide, first-class-style seats had a flat-screen TV and a Wi-Fi connection. On the far end appeared to be two restrooms and another door that could be a bedroom. Clearly the pakhan liked to travel in class and comfort.
Freaking prick. I wondered how many women he had here in the exact same place. The green-eyed-monster rose inside my chest, and I practically breathed fire at the mere thought of it. It was safe to say I needed to shift the focus of my attention.
The plane slowed down, gradually taxiing on the runway, and I curiously peeked out the window, expecting to see the name of it so I could figure out where he’d taken me.
Rome? Milan? Verona? Surely not far enough; for that, he’d need my passport.
“You’re awake, good.” Dominic walked inside, casually sipping whiskey, the sleeves of his shirt rolled to his elbows. He’d changed into jeans from his dress pants. “The car is already waiting for us.” He rose to give me his hand, but I pushed him away and stood abruptly, almost stumbling in my desire to get away. I was dizzy and swayed, but he caught me in time. “Easy, the medication is wearing off.” My brows furrowed, as his words made little sense to me, and then I remembered.
We had been on the ship, then in a car, where he drugged me with some stuff, and I ended up here. In fact, I don't even remember getting inside the thing! For some odd reason though, the plane felt familiar, as if I’d flown in it many times. That was why the knowledge didn't register immediately.
“You are insane, you know that?” My mother’s screams and Oliver’s pleading still echoed in my ears. “My family is probably worried sick.”
