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Chapter One
LDJ
Two months earlier…
MINE. MINE. MINE.
Dannazione! I’m wholly consumed by her. My train of thought leads me to possessiveness. It’s overtaking me, making me need to move in and sweep her up off her feet and run far away -fast. My brain is on overdrive, caught between obsessing over her and talking myself out of stepping in and killing everyone before taking her back home. I’m fully aware that I’m driving myself to the brink of insanity with all of this bullshit stalking. I’m aware that I’ve devolved from the imposing threat of my enemies to a raving lunatic stalker. I’m trying exceptionally hardnot to be that creepy guy that lurks in the dark to watch his prey; yet I keep finding myself back in this situation, watching mia bella live a life she wasn’t supposed to even know about yet. Essentially, I’m becoming borderline compulsive and sociopathic over this girl. While I can see and feel it happening, there’s little I can do to stop it. Sono un maniaco - I’m a maniac. Or at least, I’m becoming one. Chi cazzo sono più- who the fuck am I anymore? I don’t even recognize myself.
What in the fuck is she doing? She must not be receiving any of my letters or notes. Fottutamente stupido! There’s no way she’d be so fucking stupid as to blatantly ignore every warning I’ve given to her in those notes. She’s too smart to put herself in so much danger. Even if she doesn’t remember who I am, the notes alone should set off all of the warning signals in her brain. Growing up on the streets of Chicago has given her a clear sense of danger. I’m not exactly well known for my easy temperament and I’m being pushed to my very limits now. I’ve killed for less and while I’d like to think I’d never do anything to cause her physical harm, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to reign in my emotions before I react. Watching these bastardi sporchi - filthy bastards, touchmygirl is torture.
I am a proud Italian-American man, and within me is a wild, often untamable beast that single-handedly causes my emotions to boil over. My bisnonno always called it passione, saying that strong Italian men must know how to revel in their vigorous spirit in any circumstance.
“Che si tratti di amore, perdita, lussuria, odio o celebrazione” He would say - ‘be it love, loss, lust, hate, or celebration’.
“Sii un uomo appassionato in tutto ciò che fai,” he would tell me. ‘Be a passionate man in all you do.’ He was one of the best men to have ever lived. His heart of gold transcended this world. He was much different than his son.
My nonno used to tell me that I’m hot-headed and needed to learn to control it; at least up until the day I did and put him in his place. He is a heartless man. He very well may only love my mamma and myself, but even that has its limits. He values cruelty, control and power. He is a made man in every sense of the word.
Mamma tells me I’m melodramatic, knowing I get it from her. I can’t help but speak fluent Italian in my speechandactions when I feel overwhelmed with intense emotions in the same way she does.
I’ve long since learned to hide behind a well-crafted facade. Some call it an excellent poker face. Really, I’m overly conscious of the image I present to the world. My persona is one of a cold, calculating killer. A man that resides in the dark and lurks among our enemies to take them out one by one. I personally have more power than I should and with that, I need to be vigilant at all times of myself - and those I surround myself with. Image is everything in my business. More so because ofwhoI am and how quickly I rose to power. As the most well-known killer of the Gavino family, I am perceived as that of the devil amongst those who dare speak my name.Il Diavolo.
These past months of Quinn not being within my control have been torture and my patience is running thin. It’s February now. She’s finally getting close to the end of the school year. I was going to let her finish out her high school career to get the diploma she’s worked so hard for, but damn if it hasn’t been a shit time watching her do it. At this point, I’m not even likely to make it to the end of her junior year.
I’ve only had to step in a few times throughout her life to clean up some of the messes she’s found herself in. I’ll never forget my first time murdering a man, because it washer I killed for. That was the night I became a made man. That night was the night I lost any notion that I could pretend to have a normal childhood; it was gone, and the irony wasn't lost on me.
The man was rather forgettable, yet his face will forever be burned into my brain. She wasn’t more than thirteen at the time when her pretend mother allowed a random, shady fuck into the house. It was likely he was offering some sort of drug for sex. It’s who Lauren Davis was at her core - a crackwhore. She didn’t bother to care if she was responsible for a child my grandfather placed with her or not. She didn’t have enough regard for her own life, let alone Quinn’s. My nonno’s first mistake was not recognizing that for the danger it was, or maybe not caring. The man had worked his way into their broken home one way or another and used his advantage to get to Quinn. I’d just flown home from Italy and instead of going home, I went straight to her house in the city. I needed to see her - it had been too long since I’d last laid eyes on her. I’d had my regular security detail with me at the time and they had to hold me back when I saw what the man was trying to do.
Lauren must have gotten too high to notice that he’d taken Quinn outside into the poor excuse of a backyard they had. It was a pretty ideal place for what he’d had planned because the overhead light was burnt out. It was more of a slab of concrete than a yard, surrounded by a chain link fence. At the end of the fenced-off property was a walkway that led into a dark alleyway from the other side of the city block. But I could see everything from where I stood in the dark, seething under the light of the full moon as I watched him throw her out the door and overpower her with his weight and size.
At first, she started to fight in an attempt to wriggle her way out of his hold. Never once did she even make a single noise. No screaming for help, no yelling or crying… And then as if accepting her fate, she stopped moving altogether. She laid perfectly still like she was going to just lay down and allow him to take advantage of her. I couldn’t believe the sight before me.
Only a pathetic, insecure man would need to force himself on such a small girl. I was vibrating with rage, held back by the arms of my favorite security guard and mentor. The disgusting excuse of a man held her down on the wet, broken concrete that made up the strip of land behind their house and ripped her shirt down the middle. Puberty must have started for her while I was away in Italy because I remember noticing that she’d started developing breasts by that point, her curves becoming decidedly more noticeable. Two of my guards continued to stay back with me, and two of them silently moved towards the sickening scene before me. It all felt like it was happening in slow motion.
My guys had almost reached them when Quinn did the unimaginable. The man had been too distracted to realize that while she was playing dead, he’d given her the advantage by releasing her to remove his own clothing. My eyes stayed glued to her as she drew her knee up as hard as she could and destroyed the man's balls, while simultaneously driving her small fist into his Adam's apple, completely disarming him. Even as small as she was, she was already smart enough to know her advantages in attacking such sensitive areas of the body with as much force as she could muster. I was so incredibly proud of her, even while fuming that she’d ever had to be put in that position in the first place. It felt like it was all my fault. Guilt and hatred overwhelmed me in that moment more than ever before.
Assuming this wasn’t the first time she’d had to protect herself and it likely wouldn’t be the last, she almost had me taking her back home with me that very night. If it weren’t for la famiglia, I would have. Nonno would’ve whipped me for putting the family in danger, and out of spite he would’ve ended her life. And possibly mine. My hands were tied.
When the asshole rolled off of her in pain, she made a run for it and back into her house. I’m not sure if she locked the door behind her or not, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. The piece of shit was never going to lay his hands on her again - or anyone else. She would be safe - for now. My men crept along the shadows, picked him up off the ground, and dragged him back to me.
My mentor, Piero continued to keep his hold on me, squeezing his large palm on my shoulder. He silently reminded me to reel in my crazy temper and be smart about what would happen next. Of all my men, he has always been my most trusted. Whenever my grandfather couldn’t be with me, he was. His job at the time was the enforcer role within la famiglia and he taught me everything I know. It wasn’t always easy being in my position with most of the men surrounding me being much older than me, but he never questioned whether or not I deserved the role I’d been thrusted into. For that, he’ll always have my loyalty.
I remember the moment he handed me his gun with a silencer already on it like it was yesterday. Without hesitation, I took aim right between the scumbags frightened eyes. I watched as his lips quivered in fear, seeing the motion of his lips begging for his life but not hearing the words come from his mouth. It was as though I was seeing everything in slow motion. The sweat that beaded at his temple dripped down his face and intermingled with his tears.
“You never should’ve touched her.Signore Gesù Cristo, figlio di Dio, abbi pietà di me peccatore.” my whispered breath lingering in the space surrounding us. My threat and conscience clear, I sent my prayers for forgiveness to the holy spirit as my bisnonno taught me, though I was unable to make my voice loud and commanding as the head Gavino would’ve preferred.
The moment I shot him; I knew that it forever cemented me to my nonno’s world. I’d never escape this life. At that point, I didn’t care as long as I was able to have Quinn by my side one day. I knew she would make all of this worth it. She’s always been the light to my dark. The goodness in my nights and the reason my heart beats. Even at a young age, I knew she was the most important thing to ever happen to me.
It’s basically my fault she’s had to live the life she has and every second of every day, it has been the source of my anger. She’s been the driving force behind me moving up the ranks so quickly. Admittedly, I’ve remained single-mindedly focused. I’d much rather have had her with me all this time but it was too risky. Too dangerous. But now, the real danger lies in me having to continue to wait for what’s mine. Alessandra Evelyn Quinn Salvatore ismineand there’s not a thing anyone can fucking do about it. I will have her within my grasp again and this time I will keep her.
She’s going to be my wife. It was a deal signed in blood between families several times over and no one will get away with taking her from me, especially nothim. She was never supposed to come back here - at least not without me being the most important man in her life first. She was never supposed to learn of her life this way. It was supposed to go according to my fucking plan, but no, some dipshit had to fuck up and mess everything up. Now I’m here, neglecting most of my duties for the Gavino’s, watching amore della mia vita - the love of my life, parade around with three other fucking guys. Three guys who clearly worship the ground she walks on. Just because I understand it, doesn’t mean I’ll fucking tolerate it. I’ve done the same her whole life, mostly from a distance, because I wasn’t allowed to be publicly affiliated with her, but that shit’s about to end. She’s fucking mine. Mi amore. My sweet, beautiful love. I’ve already been cheated out of our whole lives together up ‘til now. I refuse to be cheated out of our future.
And now I’m going to come off as il furfante. I’ll be painted the bad guy and I know there’s no other way for it to go down. I just need her to see-to understand where I’m coming from. She’ll understand once she knows our history. I have to believe in that, because she’s too important to me to let her walk away and fall in love with these three men who, in all fairness, are not altogether different from me.
They aren’t me though, and they can’t have her. I won’t let them. I won’t be screwed out of the life I always imagined I’d have. I worked my ass off for it, and these fuckwits came in and foolishly fell for the wrong girl,myirresistible girl. I can’t kill them without serious blow back so I’ll have to find another way. One way or another, she’ll be mine again. At this rate it’s bound to happen sooner rather than later.
Chapter Two
