Page 63 of One Savage Union

Matteo scoffs. “Why would she need you when she finally has me? Her flesh and blood. I can have your marriage annulled by the end of the week if she likes.”

I laugh.” Good luck with that older man. I don't know under what grounds you would accomplish that since I have thoroughly fucked your daughter in every way imaginable and she could very well be carrying my seed now. So, if you think you’re going to keep her from me, you’re wrong. I’m only letting her go because she needs this. But don’t think for a second you’re taking her away from me.

Lucia throws up her hands and sighs. “Don’t I have a say in who I belong to? No one owns me!”

I lick the side of her face and squeeze the back of her neck. The whimper she releases makes my cock throb.

“That’s where you're wrong, piccolo ragazza. I thought you knew; you are bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. We are one.”

Matteo walks behind Lucia. “If you don't let her leave and make the decision on her own, there will be consequences, Parisi. The stunt you pulled is already gone too far. My mercy won’t extend much further. The only reason you aren’t dead is for your uncle’s sake.

I land one last soft kiss on Lucia's. Then I confront Matteo. His men crowd around him, but I don't give a fuck. “Ricci, I don't know what you're up to, but if one hair on her head is damaged, I’ll personally break every bone in your body. You will die so slowly and painfully that only your dogs will hear your last screams of mercy.”

He only stares for a moment before turning on his heel to walk away. Then he pauses for a moment to call for my wife over his shoulder. She glances at me with an expression I can’t name before following behind him.

She’ll be back…

22

LUCIA

My mother warned that my temper would lead me to make reckless decisions.

She hated wearing any emotion on her sleeve, including anger.

Chrisette Asare took the phrase “never let them see you sweat” to an entirely different level.

Once, she was suspended from the part-time taxi driving service she worked for because she kicked a man who was verbally assaulting her from the back of her cab. He filed a complaint, and she shared a video of the situation. I asked her why she wasn’t angry about the injustice of it all. I wanted to know why she wasn’t raging or plotting her revenge. She looked at me and said, ‘When any emotion takes you over, your brain takes a back seat.’

In other words, you're just hot and dumb.

I wish I remembered her words before decidingto leave the relative safety of Rocco’s yacht in order to join my father, a stranger.

The anger I had towards Rocco for lying to me was all that I could think about at the time. I was determined to get away from him. I didn’t want to see his face.

Although if I’m honest, that’s not why I left. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did. I left because I knew that would piss him off more than anything else. He’s a control freak and leaving was the ultimate fuck you.

I was so angry that I didn’t stop to think about how I was handing myself over on a silver platter to a man I didn’t know. My father is the head of one of the largest criminal organizations in the world, and I waltzed off that boat with him like he was Mr. Rogers.

Stupid…Stupid…Stupid…

We walked off Rocco’s yacht three days ago, and I haven’t heard anything from my husband since. I hate to admit it, but I miss him, even if he is a lying sack of shit. He’s become familiar and comforting in a sick sort of way. In the last few weeks, he has been my entire world, and there was some peace in knowing that. But all it takes is the memory of walking up on him and my father to make me see red.

I get so upset that I feel my heart boil from anger. How could a man whom I allowed to tear down my walls of distrust look me in the eye day after day and lie? I gave him access to my body and opened my heart up to him. I shared my dreams and desires, things I’ve never shared with anyone. I talked to him about how much I missed having a father in my life. He held me while I cried, knowing the whole time that my father was looking for me. If I ever needed proof that the Mafia will always come before me and our marriage, that was it.

When we left the boat and entered my father's armored SUV, it didn't hit me that I was walking into another minefield until I was sitting next to him on the back seat. His whole demeanor shifted.

On the boat, he engaged me. He implored me to come, but before we got in the car, one of his men roughly took Rocco's mother’s gun from me. In the car, he moved to his side of the seat and left me alone. His attention was on his phone. What oozed off him was a desire to be left alone and not questioned. But that was too fucking bad for him. I had twenty-four years’ worth of questions to ask, but I started small.

“Where are we going? “I asked.

“The hotel I'm staying at,” he mumbled, never looking up from his phone. “You will stay in the room I have for you there until we fly back to New York tomorrow.”

My head snapped to the side. “What about Leo and all the danger there? Rocco brought me to Italy to keep me safe.”

The look on my father's face could have smelled iron. “No, that piece of shit brought you to Italy to keep you away from me. To take what’s mine.” The last line was growled more than spoken.

I opened my mouth to say something in response. I wanted to tell him that I belonged to no one, least of all him. A man who abandoned me while I was still in utero. But the look he gave me advised me that I should probably remain quiet.

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