Page 41 of Impenitent Claim

He’s a cold-blooded killer.

I thought seeing him fight in the underground circuit was a shock. But tonight, the spectre exploded out of the darkness and took down the half dozen assailants purposely sent to pick a fightwith Alonzo and me. All for the sick amusement of the two dons and to show off the prize of the underboss.

I asked him not to kill the last man. And the phantom obeyed.

Elijah.It didn’t fit. No, he was something—something more. There was hunger in his piercing grey gaze. I felt its pull, and like a magnet, my soul fluttered in response.

It seemed the Russian cage fighter was sent to taunt me with what I could never have.

Sighing, my gaze flicked across the room. Dressed in a tux that made him look like a penguin, Gio stood straight and tall with some of the other Rinaldi soldiers. These were recently sworn members of our organization, and no doubt were filling my brother’s head with hope that he could serve as an associate and move up the ranks to full-fledged member of our Famiglia.

At least Cosimo seemed to have disappeared as well. Whatever Alonzo said sent the troublemaker away. While I couldn’t keep Gio from mob life, I needed to find a way to irradicate that pest from his circle of friends. I hated Cosimo Fabrizi. Evil wafted from him like a bad cloud of energy. He hadn’t done any singular thing to make me feel that way, but it was the combined smaller things that sent a pulse of dread through me every time he came around. Which, since my parents’ deaths, was often. The Fabrizi might as well have moved into the mansion with the Brunos, when Aldo became don. But thankfully the underboss kept his own mansion a few miles down the road. Still, Gio idolized the demonic sonofabitch, and nothing short of Cosimo’s death would keep them apart.

I could do it. I could kill the little Fabrizi.

Especially when I thought of the girl he brutally assaulted in our private high school. She had to leave, go to a reformed school out west. No one ever held Cosimo responsible because there wasn’t enough evidence to prove it was him.

And that wasn’t the worst thing he’d done.

I found myself scanning the crowd yet again. When I chose the Russian, it was supposed to be my secret romance. It was supposed to leave me content for my lot in life as a bartering chip for my father’s reign. Only, one taste of the man from the Chicago nightclub, and I found myself an addict. The withdrawal was only bearable given the distraction of the change of leadership here.

Now that my drug of choice was back, it was all I could do not to rush into his arms for another hit. I was too closely watched. There was no way I could enjoy his embrace and hope to survive not being caught.

“And so, the deal with the Conti Famiglia will make us an invincible force here on the East Coast,” Don Aldo said with ill-concealed glee.

It was hard not to wonder how long this business marriage would last. Without a blood tie, it was just words that could be taken back and signed papers that could be destroyed.

“Your daughter, Giulietta, is nearly sixteen, is she not?” Aldo added.

Dread trickled down my spine. I knew where that comment was going before he said as much.

“She is.” The Conti don nodded eagerly. “Blessed with beauty, she practices virtue as if it were her religion.”

I wanted to gag. It was the same way they talked about me at her age. In fact, they still did. Little did they know that was the one choice I made sure I had a say about—I picked who, I picked when. Not wanting to be the prized virgin, I took that title away and buried it in the Windy City. I treasured my secret.

My secret that visited me in the dark, broke into my room, and tried to soften the announcement of his presence with gifts. Because why the hell else would a Russian cage fighter leave me bath salts and special edition romantasy novels?

I can’t end up liking him.I had to see Elijah for what he was—trouble.

The don’s next words sent an earthquake through the feeble foundation that was my world, drawing me out of my own internal pity party.

“I have a nephew. Giovanni is about her age,” Aldo mused, not using the term correctly since we had no familial relation to the don. We weren’t related to the Bruno family, but it was how we spoke about them. “They’re young yet, but perhaps he should start coming to your house for Sunday dinners?”

He’s fourteen!I had to bite the inside of my cheek so as not to scream.

How could I expect anything less? We were pawns in this game.

“I’ll invite your whole family for dinner,” the Conti boss said magnanimously.

“And we’ll do the same,” Aldo added quickly. “In fact, we’re having a small gathering this Sunday after mass. We would be delighted if you and your family joined us.”

“Would your daughter like to come out with us some Saturday night?” Alonzo spoke up, surprising me enough that I cut a look to him.

I wasn’t the only one.

“What do you mean?” his father said sharply.

Color spread across Alonzo’s cheeks, and his gaze dropped to his shoes. I wanted to smack the don. They scolded him for not being active in the family dealings, but when he did try, they were the first ones to correct him.

---