Chapter Ten

I managed to avoid my family when I came back by hurrying upstairs. Mom would console me, but she would also worry about me, and Dad would blame himself and then try to protect me even more, maybe even decide to keep me away from business after all. I didn’t want either outcome.

For a long time, I stared at the wrapping covering my back, torn between curiosity and trepidation. The tattooist had warned me that it would take several sessions to cover up the words. I wasn’t a patient person and this time patience seemed completely impossible. I glanced at the clock. It was almost six in the evening. Gianna would arrive with the pregnancy test soon. I wondered what kind of lie she’d tell my family for her visit.

“Marci!” Valerio shouted. He was the only one who shouted my name instead of just knocking at the door.

“Come in,” I said, glad for the distraction. I reached for the cardigan to pull it over but wasn’t quick enough.

Valerio barged in and immediately his gray eyes zeroed in on my back. They grew wide and he hurried over to me. “Can I see?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how much of the words were still visible. Valerio had probably heard worse words coming from the mouths of Dad’s soldiers when they hadn’t noticed his presence, but I didn’t want to explain myself.

Seeing his pleading face, I caved. I nodded and sank down on the bed. “Can you help me remove it? But be careful, it’s still tender.”

Valerio leaped on the bed and kneeled behind me. I braced myself but he was surprisingly careful so I only felt the occasional tug. “Whoa,” he said.

I got up and moved toward the mirror to catch a glimpse at it myself. The tattooist had focused on covering up “whore” in this session and not touched the scribbled Vitiello. The points of the crown pierced the name in places and the base of it covered the insult. Most of today had been spent contouring but he’d begun to color the lower part of the crown. I could still read “whore” but a fleeting glance wasn’t enough anymore. Valerio climbed off the bed, his blond brows pulling together. I tensed as he scanned the tattoo closely.

“Why did they tattoo our name on your skin? Did they think you might forget you’re a Vitiello?”

I shrugged, smiling. That’s what I loved about Valerio. He always managed to surprise me with the way he was thinking. “They weren’t the brightest candles on the cake. I suppose they needed to remind themselves.”

Valerio nodded. “Yeah. Amo said they were stupid motherfuckers.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Make sure not to use that word when you’re around Mom.”

Valerio flashed me a grin. “I know.” Then the smile died away as his eyes moved lower. My gaze followed his in the mirror to the word that always made me cringe. “I like the tattoo.”

“It’s not done yet.”

Valerio rubbed his knuckles, still looking at my back. His knuckles were swollen. “What happened there?”

Valerio loved speed and action, so he was often bruised but only his knuckles was odd.

“I got into a fight with Mimo.”

Mimo was one of Valerio’s closest friends. “Why?” I asked but I had a sinking feeling this had something to do with me.

Valerio gave a shrug. I cocked an eyebrow expectantly.

“He said something about you.”

“What did he say?”

“He wanted to know if it’s true what people are saying.”

“Don’t let me pull everything out of your nose, Valerio. Just spit it out.”

“If the bikers tattooed that word on your back,” he mumbled, nodding at the tattoo. “And he asked how your ear looks…”

I swallowed. A small part of me had hoped that word wouldn’t get out, but even if Dad had told his men to shut their mouths, something like that always found a way out. They just needed to talk to their wives, who were all gossips. I hated how this made me feel, as if I had done something wrong, as if I had reason to be ashamed.

“I beat him up. His nose was bloody and his lip busted. I made him swear to never talk about it again,” Valerio said proudly. He touched my shoulder. “I’m going to beat up everyone who talks about you.”

I gave him a grateful smile. Valerio was easygoing, reminding me more of Uncle Matteo than Dad. Though Mom always said that Valerio was like her brother Fabiano when he was a boy. I only saw Fabiano once or twice per year and he definitely wasn’t easygoing or approachable anymore. That Valerio was getting into fights for me meant a lot. “Thanks. You’re the best littlest brother ever.”

Valerio scrunched up his nose. “I’m not that little. I’m taller than all my friends.”

I tousled his hair. “Of course.”

I put the cardigan on, tired of staring at the tattoo. Valerio hovered beside me. I could tell that there was more he wanted.

“What is it?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Can I see your ear?”

I froze, gingerly touching the diamond earpiece covering my missing earlobe right now. Valerio had an expression of childish curiosity that gave me the strength to open the ear clip. Valerio’s mouth forced an O when he saw my ear. The cut had begun to heal and once I started the laser treatment it would hopefully be even better, but right now it still wasn’t a nice sight.

“So cool!” Valerio said, moving closer so he could take a good look at it. I resisted the urge to cover it up.

“Why is that cool?” I asked, hoping he didn’t notice the slight tremor in my voice.

“My friends and I all compare our scars. They are battle wounds.”

“You think this is a battle wound?”

“Definitely. It’s like a medal for bravery. It shows you won a battle.”

I pursed my lips. “I don’t feel like I won,” I admitted. I wanted to slap myself. I shouldn’t unload my emotional bullshit on my little brother. He should worry about bike races and schoolwork, not my messed-up problems.

“Of course you did,” Valerio said aghast. “They are dead. And we Vitiellos showed them who’s boss.”

I nodded, but still felt emotional. I wasn’t sure why a tiny piece of ear and a soon-to-be-covered insult were taking such a toll on me. The men in my family had survived worse. Even Mom had already survived a bullet wound. I needed to be strong.

“Don’t you have homework to do?” I asked.

Valerio was clever enough to take the cue and left. The moment I was alone, a heavy feeling settled in my chest.

I felt alone in a sense I couldn’t explain. A loneliness only one person could disperse.

I picked up the phone but hesitated. I didn’t want to appear needy or weak. I had drawn certain boundaries for our relationship and I didn’t want to tear them down yet, but I needed someone who knew what had really gone down.

I wish you were here, I typed and sent the text off. Right afterward, I wished I could take it back.

I stared at my face in the mirror. I’d put on makeup for the tattoo appointment today, the first time since Earl’s death. Makeup always made me feel more like myself.

The sound of a bike engine made me perk up. I hurried toward the window in the guestroom across from mine just when Maddox pulled into the street with his Harley. My eyes grew wide. How could he be here already?

I hurried out of the room and downstairs where I came across Dad who was about to open the front door. His eyes cut to me, his expression hard. “What is he doing here? Did you ask him to come?”

I nodded, my throat too tight for words. Dad scanned my face and whatever he saw made him pause.

“Marci?”

“Can he please come in?” I got out.

Dad hesitated. I could see the battle in his eyes. Of course, Gianna picked this moment to arrive in her Mini Cooper, faster than allowed and coming to a halt with screeching tires.

“Great,” Dad muttered.

I could only agree. Gianna wasn’t always the most discreet person, especially when she thought someone should know something, and she definitely thought Maddox should know I was worried about being pregnant.

I’d been riding my bike in the blocks near Marcella’s home for about an hour, not even sure why except to feel closer to her when I got her message. I didn’t even pause to reply, instead I headed straight for her. I didn’t give a fuck if Vitiello wanted me there or not. Marcella needed me. That was all that mattered. If I had to ram a blade in his thigh again to see her, then I wouldn’t hesitate.

I got off my bike and glanced from Marcella’s old man to a woman with red hair getting out of a ridiculously small car. She was trying to usher her bodyguards away who tried to shield her from me. One of them had his gun drawn and looked ready to put a bullet in my head. I smiled grimly. I was feeling more and more welcome in the Famiglia every day…

“My God, stop hovering,” the woman thundered.

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure but I guessed she was Matteo’s wife. Earl had shown us a few photos from Vitiello family members once, but my main focus had always been on the men. I’d never had any interest in attacking the women. Until Earl decided to kidnap Marcella.

Luca said something to Marcella which made her take a step back, hovering inside the doorway. Her eyes darted to me, and in them, I could see the same longing that had made me drive around the area. Luca walked down the steps to meet Gianna halfway. He still had the slightest limp and I still felt sick satisfaction about it, especially after he spread the information about Earl’s death by my hands.

Her bodyguards finally returned to the limousine they must have used to trail her. I decided to stay by my bike until the bodyguards were gone. I didn’t trust them not to put a bullet in my head the second I turned my back on them.

The redhead glanced my way, more curious than hostile. Luca motioned for her to go inside but she waved him off. His face flashed with anger and finally she moved toward Marcella.

Luca headed for me. His expression left no doubt what he thought about my presence.

“You don’t follow rules very well. In our world my word is law and you can’t see my daughter when you see fit, White.”

I smiled tightly. “She asked to see me, Vitiello, and Marcella’s wellbeing will always matter more to me than your word.”

Luca narrowed his eyes at me. “Why did she want to see you? If something is the matter, she should ask her family for help.”

“You’ll have to ask her why she didn’t come to you. I won’t discuss anything she entrusted me with.”

Luca glanced back at Marcella who still hadn’t moved from her spot in the doorway. Gianna was right beside her. With obvious disdain, Luca nodded. “You can come inside, but only in the living room. You won’t go anywhere else and you definitely won’t approach my wife or youngest son. Do you understand?”

“Understood.”

Luca’s eyes bored into me with warning. “My promise to Marcella doesn’t extend to the possibility of you causing harm to anyone else from my family. Then I’ll slaughter you without hesitation.”

I gave him a grim smile. “I won’t bother your wife or son.”

Luca led the way and I followed a few steps behind him, casting the occasional glance at the bodyguards in the car and in a guardhouse next to the mansion. Marcella’s face lit up when I ascended the steps.

Luca ushered her and the redhead into the house. I hesitated on the doorstep, overcome with a sense of surrealism that I was about to set foot inside Luca Vitiello’s home. Not too long ago the only way this could have happened was through a home invasion. But even Earl had never been insane enough to consider attacking the Vitiello mansion. The street bustled with bodyguards and several of the surrounding houses were owned by Vitiello too.

I stepped into the brightly lit entrance hall of the mansion. Everything was modern and bright, a contrast to the old age of the building.

Gianna never took her eyes off me as I closed the door behind me.

I didn’t know much about interior design but even I could tell that only the best material and furniture had been chosen for the place.

Marcella hovered beside the redhead, glancing at her father who still stood guard beside me. I had a feeling he had no intention of leaving any time soon.

“Can Maddox and I get privacy?”

“I don’t want you alone with him, especially not here.”

“I can play nanny and keep watch,” the redhead suggested with a cheeky smile.

Luca scoffed. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to help.”

“I can keep them from ripping their clothes off each other and getting it on your expensive leather couches.”

My eyebrows shot up. Did she really just say that?

Marcella’s cheeks turned red and fuck, the sight almost undid me. I’d never seen her this embarrassed. Talking sex in front of her old man was obviously a red flag.

“Dad,” she said firmly. “You have to trust me. Maddox isn’t a danger for me. Please let me have a word with him alone.”

Luca searched her face and nodded eventually. “Gianna will be in the same room. And if I hear anything suspicious, I’ll check on you.”

I had to stifle the impulse to roll my eyes.

All that mattered was that I finally got to spend some time with Marcella.