I swallow back bile. “He forced my thighs open under the table and touched me. I jumped up before he reached my panties.”
“I’m adding him to my kill list,” Fiero calmly replies.
I lift my head and examine his face. He truly means that. “I wouldn’t lose a second’s sleep if any of those men died.”
“Good.”
“But you can’t take both Dom and Cesco out. I don’t want you risking everything you’ve achieved for me.”
He presses his lips to my brow. “I’ll handle Dom first and then deal with Cesco when the timing is right, but that little shit doesn’t get to live.”
I should probably be appalled, but all I feel is relief. I want them to die, and if Fiero makes it a gruesome death, even better. I convey that with my eyes before covering my mouth to stifle a yawn.
“I know you’re tired, and this is hard to share. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses my brow. “I just need to know one final thing, and then the subject is closed.”
“Shoot.”
“How did you end up in an arranged marriage to him? How did he even know of you?”
“My high-school boyfriend’s dad decided he wanted me for himself, and after manipulating the situation and making my boyfriend believe I’d cheated on him, his son publicly broke up with me and kissed my best friend in front of me at a party. His dad offered to drive me home, and I accepted because I was distraught and had no other ride. He tried to force himself on me while driving me home, but I fought him off.”
Fiero’s eyes blaze with anger, and if the bastard wasn’t already dead, I’m guessing he’d be adding him to his kill list. “I heard he was a sick pervert who preyed on young girls.”
My eyes narrow to slits. “You know who it is?”
“Vitto told me Jacopo Pagano was the one who negotiated the contract. It doesn’t take much to connect the dots. Pagano’s son is on the board of The Commission, and he’s never had anything good to say abouthis deceased father.” Fiero sits up straighter and alarm is etched all over his face. “Fuck.” His expression turns pained. “Was Louis your high-school boyfriend?”
“How can you be an IT expert if you’re that bad at math?” I tease.
Fiero’s shoulders instantly relax. “Thank fuck. I’d hate to have to kill another board member. That one might be difficult to pull off without getting caught.”
“Louis wasn’t around when I was going out with Damiano. He’d left home a few years before, was already married with kids. I never even met him. Damiano was an oops baby, born to Mrs. Pagano when she was forty-six and her youngest child at that point was fifteen.”
“And Damiano believed whatever bullshit his father fed him?”
“Yep.” I tuck my hair behind my ears. “He hero-worshipped his father. Don’t know why. He was a blatant creep. I didn’t know he was behind the lies until he fessed up in the car. I said I was going to tell Damiano, and he said, ‘Be my guest, he’ll never believe you over me.’ He was evil to his core. I celebrated the day he died.” My fingers dig into my thighs, and rage is a snarling beast in my veins like always when I think of that monster.
“How bad was it?”
“Bad enough considering I was pretty innocent back then.” I’d given Damiano my virginity, and we’d slept together a few times, but I wasn’t experienced or mature in the ways of our world back then, and what his father tried to do terrified me. “He groped my breasts through my shirt, pushed my skirt up, and was clawing at my panties when I hit him over the head with his son’s basketball trophy. He was out cold, and at first, I panicked that I’d killed him. I didn’t know what to do, so I just ran off and raced home. I didn’t tell a single person what happened, and he mustn’t have either because no one came knocking on our door.”
“He timed his revenge instead,” Fiero says in a clipped tone.
“Yes.” Bile claws up my throat. “My father didn’t tell me he was approached about a marriage contract because he knew I wouldn’t want to leave home to marry a man who was the same age as him. For ages, I believed it was my own fault for not telling my daddy what Damiano’s father tried to do. That if he’d known he wouldn’t have agreed.” Tightness spreads across my chest. “But I was lying to myself. My father would still have agreed. He’s only asoldato, and you don’t refuse your don.”
“It’s not your fault.” Fiero forces my gaze to his. “Please tell me you know that now.”
“I do.” I hear how feeble my protest is. It’s hard to have much self-respect when you’ve suffered the things I have. “Ironically, it was Damiano who introduced me to Dominic at a fundraiser at a hotel in Detroit. I was so giddy that night. I was wearing one of my mama’s dresses, and I’d splurged on new shoes. Daddy had paid for me to get my hair and makeup done. I remember feeling pretty and important as Damiano paraded me around the ballroom, introducing me to some of the most powerful men in the US.” I shake my head, disgusted at my naivety. “I was so stupid. A little girl completely out of her league in a brutal world she didn’t understand. Dom told me later he saw me that night and knew he had to have me. His wife died six months later, and he was immediately on the phone with his old buddy Jacopo.”
“What lucky timing for Dominic,” Fiero deadpans, and I answer the unspoken question.
“Dom killed his first wife. He staged it to look like suicide, but he gave her the pills and the alcohol and told her if she didn’t do it he’d put a bullet in her skull.”
“He told you this?” Fiero rubs warmth into my chilly arms.
I bob my head. “Promised I’d suffer the same fate if I didn’t please him and obey his every command.”
“He told me she had a heart attack.”
