“Dad kept me under lock and key.” Her clenched fist showed her anger. “The guards on my bedroom door were a good thing. I could sleep at night without worrying about some horrid prank Ricco would play on me. That nightmare…” Her gaze dropped then locked on mine. “Ricco snuck into my room when I was fifteen and kidnapped me. He forced alcohol down my throat then dumped me on the roadside near one of the family’s clubs. Maybe twenty minutes later, a car pulled up with Ricco, a friend, and two guards. They told my dad that they’d found me there. He thought I’d snuck out and gone clubbing. I was robbing him of his investment. At least that’s what he told me.”
I couldn’t say a word. I didn’t trust myself because a part of me cared what had happened, which was a surprise that solidified even more that Joey Tucci and Ricco’s days were numbered.
“From that point on, I had guards watching my every move.”
“What about school? Didn’t you get out of the house for that?”
Her fingers deftly untwisted the hair knotted on top of her head. Once free, it fell around her face in loose waves. “No. I had female tutors until I turned eighteen. Dad wanted to marry me off then, but I begged him to let me go to college. At least I got a few years in, even if it was online, before my dad reneged on that deal.”
“And Dante? How does he figure into all this?” I specifically wondered whether Dante had planted the bomb outside the club.Could she and Dante be working together?
Her grin chased away the heaviness clinging to her features. “He’s a friend. He and his brothers tried to intervene when they were able to, but there wasn’t much they could do. Before I left, I told Dante a few things about the sex ring my family ran, and he agreed to help me take it down. I couldn’t let it go on. Not after what I saw.”
“Did Ricco involve you in anything?”
“No. Not like that. I happened to see him dragging two girls from his car and telling Dad that they were new additions. They were my age or a few years younger. I can’t.”
I covered her hand with mine. “It won’t go on much longer.”
“Promise me.” Her voice shook.
I ran my thumb over the wound on the inside of her palm. “I already have.”
CHAPTER NINE
MIA
Nico’s actions continued to align with his words. My pulse had settled back to normal after the earlier conflict in the car, when he’d confronted me about betraying him. Nothing good would have come of going against Nico or the Five Families. It wasn’t my endgame. Protection—striking back at what my family was involved in that I couldn’t live with—was.
The monster that simmered beneath the surface had risen—the one I needed on my side. While I’d been inwardly terrified in the moment, his reaction had reassured me of what I’d known since the first file on him I’d obsessed over—he was the one who would save me.
I settled into a more comfortable position in the leather chair and tucked my legs beneath me, thankful that we hadn’t hit any turbulence. While he placed a call to his brother, Marco, telling him when we would land, I studied him. Dark hair that’d grown a bit too long brushed the white collar of his button-down. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms. As he moved, the striated muscles rippled, and I suppressed a telling shiver as my mind wandered to what it would feel like to have his hands explore my body.
He would be my first. My father made sure I was untouched—a lamb to the slaughter of whoever he decided to bind my life to. A spark of rage heated my blood. It was my body and my choice. And as my gaze crawled lazily over Nico’s angular jaw and chiseled features, getting caught on the sexy-as-hell grin he wore and that dimple in his left cheek, I reveled in my choice. I was more attracted to him than I would have liked, and it made me feel vulnerable, but I knew that would make my wedding night easier than if my dad married me to someone his age or worse—Guido.
That part of me that I’d locked away from the Mafia world, from my father and stepbrother, longed for a partnership. In our harsh world, I wanted love or what it looked like in the movies. Nico’s siblings and many of the Chicago Mafia who were in power had that. And if my father or Ricco had their way, I never would.
I’d taken matters into my own hands and bargained for a marriage to gain protection. It was a business deal, but I wanted more for myself and more for this man who could have killed or tortured me but hadn’t. It gave me hope for our future, that we too could have what his siblings had managed. I was all in. And I hoped with my whole heart that he was too.
But that was the dreamer in me. I needed to stay firmly grounded in reality.
We began to descend, alerting me to our impending arrival in Chicago. I peered out one of the jet’s windows to see the city in a wash of glowing lights against the dark background of a wintery January evening. My stomach was a flurry of nerves. There was no turning back. I was headed into the den of the Five Families, where I would sink or swim.
Even with the looming inquisition I would willingly walk into, the oath between us and Nico’s strength enveloped me and gave me a sense of security. I just hoped it wasn’t false. If my stepbrother or Guido had made the promise, I wouldn’t have trusted it at all. They didn’t abide by the Mafia’s code of loyalty. Then again, neither had I—I was betraying my family. But no matter how much that went against the rules of our world, I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t just sit idly by and allow them to hurt women.
The plane touched down with a gentle bump, and the whirl of the engine filled the cabin. Soon, we were taxiing to a private hangar. Once the door was opened, Nico slung my backpack over his shoulder, picked up a bag he’d brought, and guided me down the stairs and into a waiting black SUV.
I held my head high, letting the emotionless mask I’d cultivated since childhood slip over my face. Nico and I didn’t say a word on the ride to the La Rosa boss’s home. The silence had grown thick and expectant by the time the vehicle pulled into the long driveway, moved past armed guards, and finally stopped before a beautiful brick mansion with accent stones, turrets, and a balcony with a wrought iron railing off what I assumed was a second-floor bedroom.
It was magnificent and very different from what I’d grown up in. That had been more of a prison, lacking the character this one had in spades. I couldn’t squash my curiosity about what it was like inside, wondering whether it would be decorated only for a man’s taste. My father’s house was done with large leather furniture, dark interiors, and most of the heavy drapes closed at all hours of the day. It reeked of testosterone and money, not comfort. He preferred brandy and cigars, an old-world atmosphere.
When we stopped, Nico got out and opened my door for me. I craned my neck to see where our bags were then shot him a look, alarmed not to have my backpack within my immediate sight.
I touched his side, and his warm brown eyes flared with understanding when he looked down. “Matt,” he said to the driver, who had just lifted our bags from the trunk. “I’ll take those.”
The driver brought them over, and Nico slung them onto his shoulder before his hand settled on the small of my back. As we climbed the three steps leading to the large black front door, it opened. A woman in a burgundy cashmere sweater and black pants stood haloed by the light from a chandelier in the foyer. I took in her slender build, highlighted caramel-colored hair, and kaleidoscopic eyes of blue, green, and gold.
It was impossible not to recognize her as Elena Caruso, who was married to Marco La Rosa. I’d heard stories about her from the guards when they didn’t realize I was within earshot. She’d hidden from her family in New Jersey, and no one had been the wiser. She’d been my idol. So many nights, I’d laid in bed and dreamed I could escape my life and live elsewhere without repercussion.