Page 32 of Angelo's Vengeance

"And your mother?" Vaso asked.

I stared at him. No emotion. Just finality. “She might be a little harder to find, but when we do, she dies.”

The flight unfolded in tense silence, but the wheels were already turning. I could feelthe heat rising in my chest again—the fire I only allowed to burn when blood was due. Renzetti had made this personal, and Carlotta had turned it into a betrayal. I was coming for them with everything in my arsenal.

No one—no one—betrayed me and walked away breathing. I’d brought death to men for less. I’d buried traitors under concrete, left enemies in roadside ditches, and smiled while their blood stained my boots. But this...

This was different.

Because this time, the woman they hurt wasmine. I might as well admit it. It had taken me years to come to terms with it, but there was no escaping the truth. She would fight me every step of the way, but it would happen.

Theodosia would be safe. Not because I promised her brothers, not because it was expected.

BecauseI said so.

CHAPTER 20

THEODOSIA

The Bronx smelledof heat and concrete, exhaust fumes and empty promises, and garlic knots if you walked past the right block. I didn’t hate it—this city had a gritty charm and a relentless beat that didn’t wait for anyone. It suited Angelo in that brooding, vengeful way of his. It didn’t suit me. Not one bit. Or maybe I was lying to myself because it felt an awful lot like home being back here.

Which ticked me off… but it seemed to be my normal state these days.

When we landed, Angelo said he was bringing me back to his brownstone, loading me into a car with his capos. My brothers kissed me and promised to see me soon, but they didn’t argue when Angelo steered meaway from them. I was surprised they allowed it, and against my better judgment, I didn’t protest. I thought Angelo and I shared a moment, and maybe it was time to face the reality of our situation.

Now he was closed off, his face implacable as he helped me into the house I’d known almost my entire life. It was comfortable here, although I typically had limited myself to sneaking around the garage since Frankie had moved out on her own.

I suppose the brownstone he shoved me into—okay, technically escorted me to—was beautiful. A brownstone with high ceilings, polished floors, wrought-iron railings, and a street view that made me yearn for the noise of Vespas and the hum of the chaos I was accustomed to in Florence. Right now, it was quiet. Too quiet in the late stillness of the evening. Darkness had blanketed the house, and Angelo turned on the lights as we went.

“Let’s get you settled in,” he mumbled as he moved forward.

Exhausted, I followed him through the hallways and up the staircase where I had cried my heart out years ago. There was a guest suite directly across from his room that Ihad only peeked into once, but it had been empty.

Now, it was full of color and textures, with a canopy bed that reminded me of my bedroom in Italy. It looked out onto the small gardens. “I thought you might like your own space while you heal.” He rubbed a hand down his slacks as I took it all in. Some of my belongings were scattered around the room, including knick-knacks, books, and photos.

“Did you bring my stuff here?” I couldn’t tell if I was upset or relieved. I’d already spoken with Vivienne, so I knew he and my brothers had been all up in my business, but I hadn’t expected Angelo to have packed up my things.

“Yeah,” the words sounded both sheepish and wary at the same time.

“Thanks. Probably for the best.” I tried not to look at him as I walked around, thinking about him touching my things. I meant it when I said that it was for the best. When Frankie told me she was going to have her IUD taken out and start trying for a baby, I was thrilled, and I totally meant that I’d come home. Maybe I hadn’t envisioned it exactly like this. Still, it was for the best because, in the end,this is exactly where I’d have to be according to the blood oath.

Peering around the corner, I almost moaned at the bathroom that waited for me. It looked glorious.

“I could help you with a bath,” he offered. “I know you said you wanted to get clean and wash your hair.” He looked at me hopefully.

The offer was too tempting to ignore, and even though it was dangerous in many ways— mostly to my heart— there was no way I could last another frickin’ day without washing my hair. I’d been making do at the hospital with sponge baths and wet wipes, and it wasn’t enough.

“That’d be great. I can’t even stand myself right now.” I admitted. No part of me was joking about that, and I wasn’t going to be a martyr and turn down his offer. It was too late to call Frankie to help me, and I didn’t want to lie down for another night without getting clean.

Thankfully, he didn’t provide any additional commentary before he set himself to the task of filling the tub. After examining the closet space where my clothes hung in splendid rows of handmade glory, I watchedhim from my perch on the chair. Tears even came to my eyes at the thought of things made by my own hands. Angelo had earned himself a lot of grace with this gesture. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even undress myself without unstrapping the entire contraption they’d forced me into. My wound was throbbing now, and I didn’t want to complain, but I really could use a Tylenol or something.

“Come on then,piccola. Your bath is ready. Let’s get you in first.” He looked sinful beside the tub in his rumpled slacks and that five o’clock shadow. His shirt sleeves rolled up, revealing those corded arms of his that had always driven me crazy.

Methodically, he undressed me, unstrapping the harness that kept my shoulder still and concentrating on the buckles and straps as he went through each motion gingerly. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

I nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies that stirred as I breathed in his heat, the scent that was distinctly his—all male—and the awareness that his hands were on me. I winced as the sling came off, and the weight of my arm was suddenly mine to bear again; somehow,it pulled on the muscles in my chest, intensifying the pain.

“Are you okay?”

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