“Or not,” he grumbles as he pulls his gun and strides to the back door. I rip off my jacket, wincing at what I already know is severe bruising, and I know once I stopand the adrenaline wears off that this is gonna suck and hurt everywhere. While I’m running on pure revenge, I snatch the knife from my boot and grip the gun in my hand.
I take a breath and storm to the door. I kick it in, and all eyes fly to mine. Dumb and Dumber are standing at the bar. Talking with their backs to me as they turn, and their eyes go wide. I lift my gun a little higher and fire a round into each of their skulls. There are screams around the bar before their bodies even crumple to the ground. I stride over to them, and footsteps pound towards the back of the building. I stab my knife into each eye, crosses rip into the skin, leaving my signature calling card before I jaggedly rip the knife from the corner of each side of their mouths. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, cursing as I look at the screen to see it mangled and smashed. That earns them both a kick in the ribs as I turn on my heels, catching a glimpse of a red-headed bar woman cowering behind the bar.
“Call it in when I leave, ask for the police commissioner, and tell him, Donna Ariana Bianchi sends her regards.” She violently nods, still cowering, as I push outside. I throw my head back and scream into the air before slightly limping back towards the car. The adrenaline has worn off, and I’m starting to ache. I climb into the seat as Vittorio comes towards me through the front of the bar with a gorgeous smile on his face. His long strides eat up the distance, and those low-slung jeans and trainers have me wanting to be a little feral right now.
He drops into the seat, winks, and pulls off. I stare out of the window. My focus blurs as I concentrate on the scenery as it rushes by. My head lolls from the warmth of the sun beating through the window onto my skin, andbefore I know it, I feel weightless. I rest my head to the side, and a rumbling chuckle vibrates through my chest, but I let my eyes close tighter.
Vittorio
Chapter Twelve
She falls asleep on the way back to hers, head lolling in rhythm with the vehicle. I pull up in front of her home. I suppose possibly my home now. I stare at her. Her face sits relaxed, slight bruising already appearing around her eyes and cheeks. There’s a pang in my chest—hurt, anger, guilt maybe? I’m unsure. I just feel off kilter around her.
She’s so fucking beautiful. Battered and bruised, she’s still the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. She makes my heart pound in my chest, my dick throb in my jeans and my body tingle, like unused electricity that pulses through every cell. I step out of the car. I stare up at the building before I move around to her side and gently lift her out. She winces in her sleep a little before she rubs her face against my chest and settles against me. I can’t help but chuckle.
A warm feeling fills my chest. I want her. I want her to be mine, but I also want her to want me. I head towards the steps and press the bell. The door flings open to a gasp from the housekeeper.
“Matteo, Luca,” she bellows into the house as I step up into the foyer. Arianna stirs in my arms before her eyes open. They widen before blinking a few times, and she pushes against my chest. I rest her down as her two guards step up, drawing their weapons.
“Put them away,” she barks. “Matteo, go with Vittorio and grab his stuff from the car. He’s moving in… apparently. And show him to one of the guest rooms. I’m going for a bath.”
She storms off up the stairs, and I follow her with my gaze, waiting until she disappears out of sight before I stare back at Matteo and nod outside. “Let’s go.”
I follow him and Luca steps in behind me, flanking me until we get to the car. I snatch the bag from the back seat. I’ve only got the basic stuff I need, but I don’t need anything else. I’m assuming I won’t be going back, and that just shows me what little my family actually thinks about me. I’ve endured so much pain from those people, and so much that my brother didn’t have to. But now they can rot in hell, and if I can help put them there, then all the better.
I’m shown into a room. It’s nice enough, generic. But after feeling her against me all night, I want that again. I want to move forward. I want to be with her, but after her statement, I need to be patient. However, patience isn’t my strong suit, and although I want to storm in there and help her, I also know this isn’t about me. I need to show her she can trust me, so I throw my bags on the bed and start unpacking.
Once I’ve done that tedious job I step into the ensuite. It’s not massive, plenty big enough for a normal sized person, but for me the shower is a little morecramped than what I’m used to. I make the best of it because I’m gonna be in her room before you know it. I don’t think I can be away from her after I saw what happened today.
I walked back through the bar after the screams that followed the gunfire and the people rushing out of the back door and speeding out of the car park. I couldn’t not check. That’s when I saw the redhead on the phone, shaking. I glared down and stepped over the bodies. The Costa brothers, crosses gouged into their eye sockets, a creepy smile ripped across their faces, and as I stared, I didn’t know the significance. I still don’t. I must admit it does prove a point. It does say she’s not to be messed with, and she can take care of herself.
I strode through to the front door and pushed out into the sunshine. As I stepped towards my car, she was already sitting in it waiting for me, and I smiled because, fuck, she’s beautiful, anyone can see that, but she gives me these glimpses, just minor windows into her soul, she’s intelligent beyond belief, ruthless, versatile, resourceful. I shake my head. The more I think about her, the harder I get, and if I play my cards right, she will be mine.
I replay the whole situation as I let the water beat down on my shoulders, and as I clean my body, I wrap my fist around my solid dick. I grunt as I start to grip tighter, sliding my hand up and down my cock. One hand rests on the cold tiled wall. The other glides over my shaft while my head hangs, letting the water beat down on me. I can’t stop thinking about her. She invades my every thought. My breathing is just for her. My heart pounds, beating for her and her alone. I visualise her, the flush on her cheeks lastnight when my rough thumbs found the soft piece of skin between her bike leathers as I rubbed it before ripping them off her long, tanned legs against my white sheets, the way she fit against my body. I grunt as cum fires out, taking me by surprise because I was nowhere near done with that train of thought.
I turn and slide down the wall until I’m sitting awkwardly in the bottom of the shower. The water cascades down on me. And I tilt my head back, resting it on the back of the tile, the cold pressing into my spine. The scars tingle, but I pay them no mind. Tiny reminders of where I’ve come from, who I was. I breathe deeply and clear my mind, something I’ve not been able to do for the longest time. I feel like with her I can finally breathe, finally start to be the man I want to be, instead of the soldier I was forced to become.
But now I’m not in that house, I’m not waiting for the beating that would normally be heading my way after I chose someone else over family. Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t happened in a long while. I think my father is genuinely unsure if I’ll fight back, and anyone else I would undoubtedly, but him—he’s still my father. I was never sure if I could. Still now, for her, I will burn that family to the ground, and I’ll take great pleasure in doing it.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and my eyes fly to it as it clicks open. I smile before he steps in, arms folded and a vacant look on his face. I thought it was her, but the scowl that stretches across Matteo’s face is not the face I was hoping to be staring at, especially while naked.
“Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. How long do you plan on staying?” His biceps bulge as his arms tense.The tension ticks in his jaw. He’s not as tall or as broad as I am, so I slowly stand, unfolding myself from the heap I was in at the bottom of the shower. I stand at my full height. Fully naked, I place my hands on my hips and glare at him.
“Thanks, I’m not going anywhere.”
He scoffs. “We’ll see about that.” He turns and leaves, leaving both doors wide open.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I step out of the shower and wrap the towel around my waist. The other one I grab and scrub at my hair, shaking it out and rubbing my fingers through it to tame it. I step into the bedroom and head to the dresser. I spray myself with the deodorant I grabbed, pulling out jeans and a black t-shirt. I don’t bother with underwear, shoes, or socks; I hate them, and I pad out of the room, heading downstairs. I follow the smell of home-cooked food and push into the kitchen. The housekeeper and two younger girls are in there, fussing around with pots and pans.
“Oh, Mr Ricci, please, the dining room is this way.” She goes to hurry me through the door.
“Please. It’s Vittorio. Can I help?”
She stutters a bit before getting out. “Help?” The question confusing her.
“Yes, with dinner.” I frown.
“You cook?” she questions, looking dubious.
