Blood Always

12

“That is something only you can figure out.” I let out a lungful of air and hopelessness. “Thanks, Obi Wan, that’s super helpful.” Tamir huffed a humorless laugh. “So, when is this wedding to take place?” That was a good question. One I’d been too distracted to ask myself. “Not sure. I haven’t even met the man yet.” “Well then, it sounds like you have time, and that is always a good thing.” He pulled away from the wall and closed the distance between us. “Should anything change—should you ever feel threatened by this man— you will tell me. Yes?” A ball of emotion lodged in my throat, leaving me unable to do anything but nod. “Good. Then I will see you Monday.” With a tilt of his chin, he did me the favor of leaving me to my thoughts. He could likely tell I’d reached my limit for sharing. Not that I wanted to be alone with my cesspool of emotions, but I also wasn’t interested in airing them out publicly. Instead, I took the out Tamir had provided and slipped silently from the studio. It was time to head home and work on pretending today had never happened.

Chapter 4 Matteo Present My chosen profession, and the secrets that went with it, had a way of complicating everything. Something as simple as a barbeque became a royal f*****g gala. Aside from basics like the menu, linens, parking, seating, and servers, dealing with security issues alone was a full-time job. I’d hired an event planner to handle the boring crap, which left me with the rest. Between constant wariness over Fed operations, concerns about possible inter-family brawls, and the protection of my home from wayward guests, there were endless precautions to arrange and contingency plans to set in motion. If I had the slightest inkling something was amiss, my team was fully prepared. The one thing I couldn’t plan for was Maria. I had reached out via text a couple of times in the two weeks since we’d met but received paltry single-word replies in return. I had zero ability to predict her actions. Hell, I wasn’t even certain she’d show. “We only have about fifteen minutes until guests arrive.” I crossed the living room to where my brother was checking radio signals with his security team who were stationed in strategic locations throughout the property. “Who do you have assigned at the front for the collection?” There was a customary tradition at multi-family mafia gatherings of offering a weapon at the door as a token display of goodwill. No one was dumb enough to come with only one weapon, so it wouldn’t stop violence from breaking out, but it was a statement of intent. “I’ve got Tommy at the front. I wanted a capo to have eyes on the entrance.” “Sounds good.” “You ever hear back from Gabe?” “Yeah, he’s keeping his family home for this one. Tensions were still too high for his liking.” Gabe was the middle child. Where Filip and I couldn’t wait to follow in our father’s footsteps, Gabe didn’t want any part of the mafia lifestyle. Our mother’s death had been particularly hard on him. Instead of vengeance, he wanted out. He put himself through college, married a good woman, and now had three rambunctious kids. I respected his decision and appreciated that he hadn’t pushed us away along with the life. We were still family, but he kept himself distanced from anything mafia related. An event like a barbeque would be sufficiently benign if it weren’t the first multi-family gathering in more than a decade. Where Gabe was strait-laced, Filip saw no line that wasn’t worth crossing. I tried my best to keep him out of trouble by having him work closely with me, but even at twenty-eight, his wild-child streak had yet to burn itself out. “What about Maria? You hear from her?” “Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” “Of course, it’s my business. I never got to see my soon-to-be sister-inlaw.” He fiddled with his walkie, eyes darting up at me mischievously. “If she hates your ass as much as you think, maybe I’ll want to swoop in and protect her from my monster of a brother.” He was teasing me. Trying to get a rise out of me. I knew that, but it made no difference. Nothing about Maria was a joking matter, and certainly not innuendo about him f*****g her. My hand shot out and clenched his throat, backing him into the wall. “Don’t even f*****g joke like that. I don’t care how gorgeous she is or how much she hates me—she is my woman, and you will f*****g respect that. You understand me?” I hadn’t wanted to break his pretty boy face that bad since he drew the attention of local authorities, setting up an illegal fight club at his high school. Judging by the glint of humor in his eye, he’d known exactly what he was doing when he waved the red flag in my face. Dickhead was asking for a beat down. I released his neck with an extra shove for good measure. “Just do your job and stay the f**k away from Maria.” As far as she was concerned, I was fairly certain he was all talk, but his unpredictable track record was enough to nurse a sliver of doubt. As I walked away, he choked out a chuckle, but I didn’t turn back to acknowledge him. I had too much s**t on my plate to let him steal my focus. Minutes later, the front bell rang, signaling the arrival of our first guests. While Maria’s parents were among the first to arrive, she didn’t show up until a half hour later. Alone. She flaunted her independence and strength like most women flaunted a designer handbag. She was the queen of her own personal kingdom, and she wanted everyone to know. Dynamic and aloof, she bristled with power and warning. She wore a jumper like she had the first time we met, but this one had shorts instead of pants and was more suited to a beach than a boardroom. Her casual attire didn’t diminish her hypnotic effect in the slightest. She would be just as compelling in a prison jumper as she would be in a gown. Like her eyes, her presence was glacial. Almost gray in their translucence. In contrast, her thick hair was a rich dark chocolate wound atop her head and held in place with an ivory comb. The pièce de résistance, though, was her red-stained lips. f**k, those lips. Naturally swollen and perfect for sucking a man’s c**k. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said it was Halloween, and Maria Genovese had come to the party dressed as a fifties pinup model. She was f*****g gorgeous and all mine. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to wrap her in blankets to keep her away from prying eyes or put her on my shoulder and parade her around the party like the Stanley Cup. Didn’t matter. Neither was an option. Instead, I parted the crowd like Moses in the Red Sea and stalked across the room until there were only inches between us. Each step I took, a current of electricity lured me closer. “Maria, it’s lovely to see you. I wasn’t sure you were coming.” “Is that your way of telling me I’m late?” she purred, eyes scanning the crowd. Just like before, her voice was liquid sensuality.