Page 23 of Devil's Vows
Dominic Scalera. The enforcer, if our insider info tracks.
Looks like they sent in the top tier. I bet as their security expert, he’s had his eyes on this place since we pinned down the meeting’s location. Doesn’t trust me, either. Well, I’m one cousin and five other men down. A sister is the least they can do.
Once I’d set the ball rolling, I had to think about everything I really wanted to achieve here. My first marriage was a clusterfuck of note because I dove into it pressured by the Pakhan and his crazy wife. More pressure came from Darya’s family’s side, who was way too eager for the alliance. I never challenged it, because it was par for the course. What with Sergei’s confession, the tight timeline six years ago makes more sense now. Imarried to please others, to indirectly please Chertnikov, if Darya was his chosen bride for me. Just shoot me if I ever step blindly into such an arrangement again.
This time around, I’m my own man. This marriage will serveme, and Gabriella Scalera will bow to my needs.
I’m thinking long term here. This must work out, and I will mold her so it does, but at the same time, I don’t want to fuck this up—I don’t want to fuckherup. Darya was already on the road to self-destruction when she came to America. Now the alliance withIl Consigliocould be my saving grace, and Gabriella’s brothers won’t stand for her being unhappy.
I’m not going to be a dick. My needs are simple. For one, she’ll be looking after my girls like a real mother and not a useless fucking junkie. Then she’ll provide me with sons, and if she’s anything like the Scaleras’ mom, I’ve no worries in that department. There might be some girls in the mix, but I’d be happy with two sons—an heir and a spare—and then I’ll leave the marriage bed and her at peace. I spent all of two seconds wondering if she’d be fuckable but had brushed the thought aside. In the dark, all pussies are the same.
“Papa! Smotri!” Katya calls out to me in Russian, telling me to look at her, and in my periphery, I watch Dominic Scalera turn at her high-pitched voice.
I stroll over to support the girls as they tackle the monkey bars, shooting Dominic a shit-eating grin which he’s interpreting perfectly: if this were a shootout situation, he’d be dead.
“Ivan Petrov?” he asks, and I tip my cap at him.
He doesn’t sound Italian, either. Having grown up here, he sounds just as East Coast American as me.
“Gimme a sec,” I say as I smile at Irisha, grabbing her by the waist and making sure her small hands circle the monkey bars. “You can do it,malyshka.Papa has you.”
His eyes are on me, assessing my every move as I help Irisha swing the short stretch to the other side.
“My turn! My turn!” Katya calls out where she’s fisting my T-shirt’s hem, tugging and jumping.
“Yes, your turn,” I say as I toss her up high, making her screech with a laugh right from her belly. “Here.” I let her grab the bar, knowing she’ll be strong enough to hold her grip but not swing all the way.
“Pretty hands-on, aren’t you?” Dominic says as he leans onto the railing, his bodyguard mere feet away and keeping an eye on Yuri now they’ve clocked who’s who.
“Yep. Weekends are family time.” It’s freaking exhausting, but I’ve learned to nap when the girls do. It’s during the week and at night when I’m needed at work that I can’t be with the girls. Milana hasn’t stepped up to be more than a pair of ears, listening to the baby monitor at night, so to put it simply: I’m fucking desperate. “Where is she? Your sister?” I ask as Katya makes it to the other side and I set her down on the ground.
“Hmm,” Dominic grunts. “She’s here, with our Don, Matteo Scalera. Listen, Petrov, marriage isn’t on the cards.”
“Agreed. I’m doing a test run first.”
“Like fuck you will,” he growls and all but jumps the railing.
His eyes shoot daggers at me as he shakes open the closed playground gate, but I don’t flinch. Fucking Italians with their tempers.
“Papa, he said abadword!” Irisha calls out, staring at Dominic with all the offense her gorgeous blue eyes can hold, light blond curls brushing at her rosy cheeks.
Dominic freezes, eyes wide as he stares down at where Irisha now has me by the leg, a stubby finger with my bad pink paint job on the nail pointing right at him.
I watch the emotions play out on his face, and inwardly, I crack up. Oh, yeah, that’s a look that stops a grown man in his tracks.
Breaking the impasse, I step up to him, hand held out. “Welcome to my world, Dominic Scalera. Not sure where yourhead went, but when I said test run, I meant as anannyfor Katya and Irisha.”
He hesitates for two seconds, then closes the space between us and shakes my hand. “I see. And introductions aren’t necessary.”
“Nope. I’ve done my homework.”
We size each other up. His head went straight to me fucking his virgin sister before tossing her aside. I have bigger plans than that, becausefuckyes. This is the type of man I need in my court—and there are four more of them. Marriage is definitely in the cards, all right, and Gabriella Scalera will sign up for it of her own free will.
“You’re the one that disposed of my cousin and men?” I ask, letting go of his hand and picking up Katya where she’s skipped closer. “Or was it more like a fun day out for the family? Sport for the boys?”
I’m poking the bear, because annoyance flashes in his eyes. He was involved, for sure, and I bet he’s usually more composed, cool and calculated, maybe even borderline bored, but this is the thing with being caught off guard. It tends to rattle you. And this meeting involves a woman in his family. Be it sisters, mothers, daughters: they fuck with your head, and all composure goes up in flames once they enter the equation.
For these men, Gabriella Scalera crashed back into their lives, but they’re as protective over her as I am protective over my girls and Milana.
