Page 7 of Bittersweet Endings
Needing air, I went out the front door. This was the only home I knew. I’d always loved it outside—the gardens, the stables, hundreds of acres of open space. But now, as I stared up at the façade, I loathed it.
These walls were supposed to protect me. Instead, they held all my secrets. Shrouded me in so much pain.
I headed for the gardens, watching as my brother’s men came around the corner and flooded inside. Stopping short, one ofthem turned to stare at me. Then he raised a finger to his lips and winked.
Carmine wasn’t going to win. These assholes weren’t going to hurt my family.
“You were good to me, AJ. It’s the only reason I’m not screaming my head off.” I kept my voice low. “Leave now or I add you to the death tally.”
He didn’t answer at first, just looked me up and down. “You look good, Octavia. Safe. Strong. That’ll make him happy.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “He’d rather have me broken and bleeding.”
AJ shook his head. “It’s not safe outside these walls, Octavia. I mean it. Carmine’s father thinks?—”
My resolve snapped. “Fuck JP! And fuck your boss! This is your last warning. Leave. Now.”
He raised his arms in surrender before backing off and turning on his heel. Then he walked away from the house with his phone to his ear. A minute later, a car pulled into the driveway, and right before he got in, another man came running from the stables and hopped inside with him.
I glanced back at the house, my heart aching because it beat for a man who didn’t deserve it. And I was just as traitorous as it was because I wanted to go back to him.
In that moment, I made a decision. If I wasn’t here, they’d be able to move on. And Carmine would get nothing out of me.
Placing a hand on my chest, I felt the slow beat tapping against my palm. It’d onlyfeltlike he’d broken it to pieces, but he hadn’t. I was stronger than that.
I had to be.
Chapter Two
CARMINE RAGETTI
The noise of the club made the floor in my office rattle. Clients had started to fill in their seats, looking to meet my newest headliner. Persephone was no longer dancing after her stint in the looney bin. So I had to replace her with Kitty.
Typical, right?
What I can assure you was not typical was that giant cat tattoo on her leg—right next to her pussy. The men loved it and paid top dollar for private dances.
Octavia hung up the phone and I smirked. If she were here, she’d already be draped across my lap with my palm leaving a trail of heated marks all over her skin.
Matteo stood at my desk, his inquisitive stare trying to sift through my brain. The bastard was always looking to analyze me. And right now, his silence was scratching against my patience.
“You didn’t have to let her go. I see what it’s doingto you,” he said.
“My mood has nothing to do with her. It’s about Uncle Sal.”
Matteo sat down instead of arguing with me.
I’d relayed everything Mario had told me about our uncle. Every detail about how he’d died, how he’d been set up, and how Mario had covered it all these years.
“There’s no way JP would?—”
“Wouldn’t he?” Matteo questioned. “He’s a goddamn narcissist. Beat his own children for the fun of it. He’d absolutely kill his brother to become Capo.”
I went mute. Fucker was right. Maybe it was the love I’d had for our uncle that made me think there was no way JP could do that. No way he could have gone after his own blood.
Uncle Sal had wanted to make us financially untouchable. To still be who we were but make it more lucrative. JP just wanted the power to do whatever the fuck popped into his head and get away with it.
“Fuck. He caused it. I know he did,” I grunted, and Matteo nodded. “And what about that little fuck Peiro? Any word?”
