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I take a long sip of my drink, thankful for how strong Vander made it. “As far as I’m concerned, you abandoned me. If you wanted me as your family, you should have brought me home as soon as I was found. Or better yet, never let me be taken in the first place.” Vander’s posture deflates a fraction. “But you didn’t. You let another man raise me as his own. So this isn’t my home, and I owe you nothing.”
A new calmness washes over the man who thinks he can command my life. He slowly makes his way around his desk and unbuttons his suit jacket before sitting. Ice cold blue eyes stare me down as he slides his chair forward and folds his hands on top of his desk.
“I will tell you this once, and I never want to repeat it again.” His words are measured and spoken with a lethal preciseness. Something tells me he doesn’t get questioned often.
My brother crosses his arms and leans against the windows, staring out at the patrons dancing on the floor below us. Vander is still standing next to me, stiff as a board. There aren’t any chairs directly in front of the desk, so I either have to stand here, or take a seat on one of the couches on the other side of the room.
Taking a few steps to the left, I sit on the edge of his desk next to the windows, placing the phone I had to take out of my pocket on the desk next to me. With my legs crossed, I study my nails like I can’t be bothered to care. Which is actually true. “And here I thought I got to skip the bitchy teen years,” he mumbles under his voice, glare becoming even sharper.
“You summon me like I should be honored to gain your attention. What else did you expect?” I quip.
He goes on like I didn’t say anything. “Twenty years ago the war between our Italian relatives and the Cava family heated up. As a result you were abducted by a U.S. faction of the Cava crime family. They thought to cripple us here by taking my successor since the Segreto’s are run by Donnas in Italy. They realized too late that we didn’t follow in their footsteps and kept with the tradition of Dons.”
I’m a little surprised to find a frown growing. This powerful mafia leader is allowing himself to show me some emotion, something I’m certain he could keep hidden if he wanted. I’ve also finally learned what my last name is, Segreto.
His deep voice continues, “By the time we found out where they were keeping you, Halston’s security personnel were already there with a SWAT team to track down stolen weapons. They didn’t know you were there, but had we not found out…” he trails off then swallows, “I’m glad you still would’ve been rescued.” I glance at Vander and find him hanging his head, lost in his memories of what happened.
The mafia Don clears his throat before locking his gaze with mine. “I was never so out of my mind with fear like I was when they took you. And when I saw Mr. Halston carry you out of there, I knew you would be far safer if you were hidden away from this life. But I never once gave you up.” He moves to stand in front of me. I can tell he wants to reach out, but thinks better of it.
“You have always, and will forever be, a Segreto. I chose the best outcome in a shitty situation. I’ve been protecting you from a distance until the day you could come home. I’m not ignorant enough to believe it wouldn’t take you some time to get used to the idea, but you will comply with my wishes,” he growls, closing the space between us. The sincerity with which he told his story is replaced with a hardness he’s honed over the years. A menacing gleam lighting his eyes, one that I’m far too familiar with, having seen it in the mirror.
Reaching my hand behind me, I grip my gun and whip it out, shoving the barrel under his chin. “Or what?” I taunt.
“Or I’ll shoot Vander. Seems you’ve gotten a little closer than I intended,” he answers, having anticipated my move and pulled his gun at the same time. The threat against Vander makes my chest squeeze in dread. No matter how angry I am, I don’t want him harmed by anyone but me. Which means I need to put on a show unlike any other I’ve done before. This is my moment to pull the performance of a lifetime.
Laughter rolls out of me. I slap my leg and force tears to well in my eyes, all while keeping my barrel pressed under his chin. Wiping away my tears, I slow my laughter enough for me to get a few words out. “Feel free to take out your spy, I’m not that attached.”
He searches my gaze, trying to puzzle out if he can believe me, and coming to his conclusion, he yells out, “Accedere!”
The door behind the desk, opposite of where I walked in, opens. Two men enter, dragging a passed out Grayson between them. What the flying fuck happened? My insides freeze as the gun leaves Vander and is now pointed at Grayson where he’s sprawled out on the ground. How could Cole and Jasper let this happen? Or have they been taken as well?
The two men leave once more, not even sparing a glance at us, or I’m sure they would have a problem with me holding a gun on their boss. The door clicks shut behind them and a beat of silence follows. I’ve been backed into a corner and I don’t appreciate it. My mind races to try and find a way out of this, because I just left a situation where I wasn’t free to be myself. I don’t want to find myself caged again, much less so soon.
Suddenly, an arm wraps around my shoulders, and a glance at the owner shows it’s my brother. He’s finally moved from his perch at the windows, but it’s not clear what he’s up to. “It wouldn’t be a famiglia gathering without threats being thrown around, now would it, Padre?”
His hand runs down my arm, encouraging me to lower the gun, and at the same time, his other hand does the same to his father. “Trying to play peacekeeper, Vincenzo?” our father asks. He briefly glances at my brother, but when his gaze meets mine again, an understanding passes between us. We both lower our guns at the same time, and Vincenzo grins in triumph. Dimples pop out on his cheeks reminding me of Jasper. I don’t find them attractive on my brother at all though. I already have enough wrong with me than to add that to the fucked up list.
“Let’s not start things off on the wrong foot. I’ll show Remington around—”
“Raven,” I correct him, cutting him off before he can finish. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before that they’d know the name I’ve gone by. It’s been made more than clear he’s been watching me my whole life… and it doesn’t pass my notice that my brother used the name I should be most comfortable with instead of whatever name I was born with.
Eyeing him up, I’m not even sure Vincenzo was born before I was taken. Have we even met before today? He tilts his head in acknowledgment of my preferred name and continues on. “And fill her in on what we could use her help with. I’m sure some sibling bonding time will set everything to rights.” He squeezes me into his side to help sell his excuse of us spending time together.
I’m sure he would like to think my mood will change, but I’m not interested in being a pawn for the mafia. The man before us lets out a grunt and moves to sit in his chair again. He leans back and folds his hands together, steeping his fingers and placing them against his lips, as if he’s thinking seriously.
I glance at my brother, wondering why he hasn’t removed his arm yet, now that he got what he wanted and all. But he flashes me a smile, one that doesn’t seem fake. It’s a little off putting. How can someone who was raised in the mafia, and groomed to take over as the Don one day, smile like this?
Drugs. It has to be drugs. In either case, he keeps his arm around me, like we’ve spent our whole lives teaming up to pull one over on our dad.
And if I’m honest with myself… I don’t hate it.
Chapter 11
Vander
The sound of glass shattering and hard objects meeting the ground greets me as I reach the door to the Don’s office. Every made man I passed on my way here was whispering about a package that arrived, and by the sounds coming from behind the closed door, the contents weren’t favorable.
It’s been three weeks since my Reginetta was taken from us. Three weeks of minimal sleep as I work my way through each and every man I’m brought to extract information from. We’ve been working our way through the Cava mafia men, starting at the easiest to get our hands on at the bottom of the information chain, and slowly getting higher with each revelation I extract from their gritted teeth. I’ve never been so inventive with my methods before.
