Page 2 of His to Break

“I am Antonio Volante.” My brother doesn’t bother to introduce Matteo and me. If Bianchi doesn’t see the family connection, he’s blind. My siblings and I all bear a strong resemblance to each other. “What can I do for you?”

Bianchi exchanges a glance with the woman, who smiles softly as she tilts her head toward him. She gives an encouraging nod. Interesting. Is she the one pulling the strings here? Bianchi clears his throat. He’s on edge and so he should be. It’s only been a couple of months since his father tried to have my sister-in-law Emilia abducted. Whatever brought him here, he needs it badly because he must know my brothers and I would happily murder him.

“We wish to propose a marriage alliance, one that will be of mutual benefit.”

His speech is faltering, and he has a strong accent. Perhaps he was raised in Italy, as one rumor suggested.

“Marriage?” There’s tension in Antonio’s voice, but I doubt anyone who doesn’t know him well would recognize it. “Are you here to ask for my sister’s hand?”

He’d better fucking not be. Although Olivia is twenty and Antonio has been contemplating her marriage prospects for some time, he wouldn’t consider trading her off to a man we’ve never laid eyes on before and certainly not Carlo Bianchi’s spawn.

“No, no.” Bianchi holds his palms up in a placating gesture, apparently at great pains not to cause offense. Once more, he looks down at the woman. She reaches up and pats his arm soothingly. Whatever their relationship is, there’s trust between them.

“Va tutto bene,” she murmurs. “Mi occuperó di questo.”

Having offered to handle things, she smiles at Antonio.

“We don’t wish to broker a marriage with your sister.” Her accent is crisp. If I had to guess, I’d say she was British, but her Italian was flawless, so who knows? “If you’re amenable to a deal, Signore Volante, I would be the bride.”

My heart stops. Did I hear her correctly? Bianchi brought this woman here because he wants her to marry into our organization. What is she to him?

“And who is the groom you seek?” Antonio asks.

“Well, you’re married, as is your brother, Alessandro. I’m not interested in a younger man, so Giovanni is out. That leaves Matteo, who is twenty-five, the same as me.” She smiles at my brother, marking him as the preferred option before turning a scowl on me. “Or Leonardo.”

It’s clear this woman has done her homework, but she obviously missed that I never shy away from a challenge like the one she just presented me with. Insulting me is like waving a red rag at a bull.

“No offense, darling,” Matteo says, “you’re beautiful and all, but why would either of us be interested in marrying you?”

She half-smiles and offers a self-deprecating shrug, though I sense she’s anything but unsure of herself. “I come with…” She pauses as she considers her words. “Shall we call it a dowry?”

“A dowry?” I scoff. “What is this, the Middle Ages?”

“In the outside world, no.” She glares at me. “Within an organization such as yours? Perhaps.”

She may have a point. When it comes to relationships within the Volante family, men are firmly in charge.

“So, what do you have to offer?” I demand. “A couple of cows and a half dozen chickens?”

The raven-haired beauty purses the crimson lips I’d love to see wrapped around my cock. “Fifty million dollars.”

It’s a nice sweetener, but a financial incentive isn’t enough to persuade either me or Matteo to marry. Our family doesn’t need the money. Unless she has some other value, I’m going to have to pass.

I’m about to not-so-politely decline when Matteo snorts derisively. “You think you can waltz in here and buy a husband? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Who the fuck do I think I am?”

Coming from her lips, the curse sounds incredibly provocative. She tosses her hair back and sits straighter, fixing Matteo with a glare that would shrivel a lesser man’s balls. My brother doesn’t flinch.

“I am Venezia Giulietta Maria Bianchi.” Her lips quirk in a vicious smile. “It’s a bit of a mouthful, I know, so you can call me Vinnie.”

CHAPTER 2

Vinnie

If my sole purpose in coming to this fleapit had been to shock the hell out of the Volante brothers, I’d congratulate myself on a mission accomplished and head for home. Unfortunately, as amusing as it is to see these hardened mobsters with their mouths flapping open like startled fish, I need their help.

Marrying into a powerful family is the only thing that will protect me from my father’s wrath. By now, he’ll know I slipped away from my guards back in England, where he’s been keeping me under lock and key. If he finds out I came to New York to seek refuge from the enemy, he’s going to flay the skin from my bones. That might sound like hyperbole, but with my father, the cruel and merciless Carlo Bianchi, it’s a very real possibility.

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