Page 119 of The Savage

I shrug one shoulder. ‘Getting what I needed.’

‘And that was?’ Cesare presses.

I tilt my head. ‘A woman.’

Rafa explodes. ‘What the fuck does that mean? You already had Giada with you when you left Modena. So just spit out what the hell you’re hiding or so help me fucking God, I’ll stick Orazio on your ass and walk away.’

Fuck. Orazio. Another headache I have to deal with. ‘Does he know?’ I snap.

Cesare’s eyes burn into me. ‘He will in the next two fucking seconds if you don’t tell us what we want to know.’

Footsteps approach, soft and hesitant.

Every head turns and there’s instant quiet as every man in the room freezes and every woman softens.

Giada stands at the archway, hands clasped in front of her, eyes bouncing nervously from one Salvatore to another. She smooths down the soft chocolate dress that hugs her tits and waist. The neckline’s modest, but the way it skims her hips is not and my mouth waters and my fingers tingle with the reminder of the marks I’ve left on her bare skin.

Her hair is knotted in that prim little twist she thinks makes her look un-alluring but only makes me itch harder to prove her so fucking wrong. Because I know all it’ll take is one tug to unravel it… literally. To have it flowing over my eager fingers.

I’m already moving. I cross the room in four long strides, cup her jaw gently, tilt her face up, and kiss her.

Slow, claiming, no apology.

Her breath stutters and her fingers hover uselessly between us. Then she melts, leaning into me like every cell remembers exactly who I am.

As it fucking should.

When I pull back, her cheeks are pink, her eyes bright.

Dante whistles. ‘Well, well. Another one bites the dust.’

Giada chokes on air. I glare at Dante. He raises both palms.

‘Just saying.’ He grins. ‘Salvatore curse. Like dominoes into a fucking frying pan. You all fall hard.’

‘Stop it,’ she whispers, mortified.

I kiss the corner of her mouth just to hear her gasp.

Cesare clears his throat. ‘We were discussing⁠—’

‘What happened when you left the hospital with Renzo, and what he was doing at the burned-out convent,’ Maddie probes softly.

Giada goes still but she doesn’t volunteer anything. Good girl.

A muscle in my jaw jumps.

Maddie steps closer, voice gentle. ‘But… we can get to that later. Right now, we thought… you should know everything we do about what happened the night you disappeared, if you’re up to it.’

‘Okay… but why?’ Giada whispers.

‘Because,’ Cesare says carefully, ‘you’re part of this now.’

Giada’s throat bobs. ‘What… Can you tell me exactly what happened? Why…?’ She pauses and a wave of uncertainty and pain washes over her face. I grip her hand tighter and I’d fold her inside me to keep her warm and safe if I could.

Rafa leans back in his chair, expression tight. ‘The same bullshit, sweetheart. If you’re top dog, everyone wants to pull you down. In this case it was the Russians, pushed by your grandfather, El Topo. They had their panties in a bunch because we didn’t want to invite them to the party. They stormed the church knowing our loved ones were in there. Started a gunfight that’s turned into a war that exploded all over New York and the Eastern Seaboard. A war we won, but with a few essential culprits that got away.’

Giada flinches, hand flying to her chest. Sofiya glares at her husband but he shrugs, unrepentant, before he takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Sofiya’s hard expression eases, while mine intensifies.