Chapter Eight

After some arguing and eventually begging, Dad allowed me to be alone with Maddox in his office for a few minutes.

“We’ll be in the hallway,” Luca said loud enough so Maddox could hear him before he closed the door, leaving me alone with Maddox.

Maddox’ practically undressed me with his eyes. I shook my head, but my own body longed for his closeness as well. Yet I hadn’t forgotten the heartbreak of the last few days.

“Won’t you give me a little peck as a reward for behaving around your murderous family?” he asked with a wry smile.

He had a point. After everything that had happened, Maddox had every reason to be pissed. I walked over to him, and with every step I took, my pulse pounded faster. I’d never felt this physically drawn to a person. Maddox’s smile broadened when I arrived before him and my stomach exploded with butterflies. Maddox wrapped his arms around me and kissed me unexpectedly gently before he buried his nose in my throat. “You smell different than I remember.”

“You mean I don’t smell like dog and blood anymore?”

Maddox shook his head. “You never wore perfume, now you do.”

He was right. I’d put on my favorite perfume from Le Labo: Fleur d’Oranger. It had made me feel more like myself, which was strange considering it was only a scent. “You don’t like it?” I asked quietly.

For some reason Maddox not liking my favorite scent equaled him not liking the person I used to be and in parts still was. He’d only met a small caged-in version of her, but never the full me.

He’d have to get to know her. We’d both have to get to know each other anew now that we were both free.

“No, it smells great, like a stronger version of your skin’s natural scent.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised and relieved.

Maddox simply nodded, his nose still pressed into my skin. His warm breath felt good, comforting.

I wanted to sink into him and let myself fall, maybe even allow myself to face all the worries of what lay ahead.

I tightened my hold around his waist. Maddox groaned briefly but didn’t let me go when I was trying to pull back, remembering his injuries.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Maddox murmured, lifting his head to scan my face as if he was trying to memorize every inch of it.

He bowed down his head and pressed his lips to mine. I wanted to lose myself in him, in the kiss, but after a brief moment, I caught myself. I stepped back with a smile.

Maddox gave me a questioning look.

“I think we should take it slow.”

“Your body’s saying something else,” Maddox said with a teasing smile.

He was right. My body longed for more. Maybe it was good that Dad wouldn’t allow me to spend time at Maddox’s place because I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep by his side, but deep down I knew it was too early for it.

“I missed you too, but I want to take things slow. We have to get used to the new situation.”

“You mean you want to see if you still want to be with me now that you’re back in your fancy life.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No. I know what I’m feeling, and you?”

Maddox wrapped his arms around my waist, his voice low. “Snow White, I betrayed my club for you, I killed for you, I got tortured for you, and I’ll even make peace with your old man for you if that isn’t proof of my feelings for you, I don’t know what is.”

His eyes were fierce, dispersing the doubt I felt.

I swallowed, wondering what he’d say if I told him I was supposed to get my period today but was scared I wouldn’t. Maddox and I weren’t ready to be parents, not individually and definitely not as a couple. Too much was uncertain between us. I considered saying something, but then Dad knocked and opened the door, his eyes measuring the distance between Maddox and me.

Maddox and I only got a brief moment to say goodbye before he headed out with Growl, who’d show him the apartment where he could live, and I headed home with Dad and Amo who were both quiet during the drive. I didn’t speak either, longing for Maddox.

In the afternoon, the doc checked on my back and ear again, finally giving me the green light to make an appointment at a tattoo studio. I had already chosen the best studio in New York and got an appointment the next day. Usually, they were booked many months in advance but as usual the name Vitiello worked wonders. I wanted the ugly tattoo on my back covered up as quickly as possible and hopefully with it, the memories that haunted me at night. After the call, my phone beeped again with a text from an unknown number.

Hey Snow White, I got a phone and your aunt gave me your number. How about you come over to my place tomorrow?

I smiled. Of course, Aunt Gianna wasn’t following the rules.

I have an appointment at a tattoo studio tomorrow afternoon. Will you come with me as moral support?

The moment I typed the words, I felt relief. I was scared of getting inked again. Not because of the pain. I could withstand it, but I worried about the memories linked to it

Of course. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.

Pick me up at three pm at home.

I considered adding a kiss smiley but this felt strange. Maddox and I weren’t really in a relationship yet. We hadn’t even discussed the parameter of our bond yet. So far there hadn’t been time.

Sweet Dreams. I miss you.

My heart rate picked up. Miss you too.

Everything about this felt strange, scarily normal.

I was too nervous about the tattoo appointment the next day to sleep, so I went over to Amo’s room. The door was open. I was still angry at Amo and Dad, but at the same time, I couldn’t resent them for wanting to protect me.

I leaned in the doorway and watched Amo. He was changing the bandages around his arm and waist. He’d suffered several cuts and a couple of broken ribs during the fight, but this was the least of my concerns. The Amo I saw before me was a different brother than I’d left weeks ago. His face appeared older, harder. He’d been my teenage brother, now he seemed grown up, like a real man. During his confrontation with Maddox today, it had struck me again.

He looked up. “You want me to come with you to the tattoo studio?”

“Maddox agreed to come. But you could come too.”

Amo shook his head. “I don’t need to see him every day.”

“Will you try to get along with him for me?”

“I didn’t try to kill him today.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks.”

“People are already talking. Several of your friends messaged me to ask if the rumors about you escaping captivity because of an affair with a biker were true. Even the ones I dumped messaged me, Marci. This is going to get only worse. People will tear into you now that they see a weakness.”

I looked away. I had ignored all messages from friends for that exact reason. Everyone only wanted to catch the newest tidbit of gossip. I’d only answered two messages from family like Sara or Isabella. When it came down to it, I could only trust family, not the people I called friends.

“You really must like him if you risk your reputation for him. Considering you worried about glassy scallops not too long ago.”

“I think I love him,” I whispered.

Amo grimaced. “You sure?”

“No.” I sighed and walked over to Amo to sit on his desk. “The last few weeks were too confusing. I need to get to know him. Today was the first time he and I texted, or talked to each other alone without either of us being a captive.” I shook my head. Saying it aloud made the absurdity of it sink in. “I wonder if Maddox and I can ever have a normal relationship considering everything.”

“I don’t want to burst your bubble, Marci, but nothing about our life is normal. Being a Vitiello and a normal life are at odds.”

I shook my head with a smile. “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about the life I was used to.”

“Your version of a normal life probably isn’t White’s. If you really want things to work out, you and he have to figure out a new normal as a couple.”

My lips parted in shock. “Who are you and where’s my emotionally imbecile brother?”

“Just because I usually don’t bother doesn’t mean I don’t understand emotions.”

“You think Maddox and I can find a new normal?”

Amo gave me a look that made it clear he wouldn’t answer the question. “I won’t ever fall in love. It makes fools of people.”

“Don’t you want what Mom and Dad have?”

Amo shrugged. “Even Dad made bad decisions because of his love for Mom. The thing with Tartarus wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been madly in love with Mom. I can’t see myself ever feeling something that strong for someone.”

“I never thought I could. I never did with Giovanni, but I think it could be like that with Maddox.”

“He betrayed his club and killed his uncle for you. That’s a good start for foolish love.”

I laughed. “Yeah.”

“I still don’t like him, so don’t expect any more relationship advice from me.”

“Can I—?” I asked, nodding at the bed. I still hadn’t managed to catch any sleep in my bedroom. The only times I got some sleep was in Amo’s room.

“Sure. I can’t sleep any time soon anyway.”

I glanced back down on my phone before I closed my eyes.

I followed Growl’s pickup on my bike to an apartment complex about two blocks from the Sphere. It wasn’t one of the luxury skyscrapers but it was much posher than anywhere I’d ever lived before. When Growl and I passed the lobby, the receptionist scanned me from head to toe, unable to hide her shock. I looked a mess, there was no question about it. The last few days had taken their toll on my body and my clothes had definitely seen better days. I tipped my imaginary hat in greeting and she quickly looked away and pretended to be busy with something on her computer.

I shook my head with a chuckle.

“The staff knows to keep their noses out of our business,” Growl said as we entered the elevator. He looked at my hands. “Don’t you have any clothes or other stuff?”

I cast my eyes up to the mirrored ceiling. Fuck. I really looked like shit. It was a miracle that the receptionist hadn’t run away screaming upon seeing me but working in one of Vitiello’s apartment buildings probably hardened you against bloody faces. “Most of my stuff went up in flames when the Vitiellos burned down the clubhouse. I always traveled light.”

Growl made a non-committal noise. “Do you have money to buy clothes and everything else you need?”

I patted my jeans pocket, which still held several grand. But I needed a new bike, so that would rip a huge hole in my pocket. “I’m fine, and I won’t borrow money from the Famiglia for sure. Even idiots know better than to owe the mob money.”

“I would have given you cash, without interest,” Growl said with a shrug and stepped out when the elevator arrived on the fifteenth floor.

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Why would you do that? You don’t know me, and as far as your boss is concerned, I’m still the enemy.”

Growl motioned at the door at the end of the long hallway. “Because I once arrived in New York without anything to call my own as well.”

I nodded. Growl unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in. I didn’t like turning my back on him, no matter how semi-friendly he appeared but I forced myself to go ahead anyway. I froze in the loft that opened up before me. “Fuck.”

The living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining area was big enough to serve as a ballroom. The ceiling was twice the height of a standard room at least. “I don’t need that much space,” I said.

Growl shrugged. “It’s the smallest apartment in the building, only two bedrooms.”

I laughed in disbelief. The Vitiellos really didn’t know what to do with the shitload of blood money they earned. I was poor like a church mouse in comparison. Did Marcella realize that? She’d be the one with the money. So far all the girls I’d been with had been in awe of me because of my status in the club and the not-too-shabby amount of money I earned as vice, but all of this meant nothing to Marcella. I was a nothing in her world, and especially in the eyes of her family. “I don’t intend to have any guests except for Marcella and she’ll sleep in my bed.”

Growl’s expression hardened. “Better watch out with those comments around other people. Luca won’t appreciate it if people talk badly about his daughter.”

“If she’s with me, it can be expected that she’ll sleep in my bed. But I suppose not in your old-fashioned world.”

“It’ll be your world if you want to be the man at Marcella’s side.”

I wanted nothing more, but belonging to this strange world with even stranger rules? Fuck. That would be almost as difficult as not ending up killing Luca Vitiello.

Growl held out the keys in one tattooed-scarred hand. I took it then motioned at his tattoo sleeves and tattooed throat. “Do people accept the way you look? Most of the mobsters like to look like businessmen in their expensive suits.”

“I’m Enforcer and I used to be the enemy. People will always treat me different. I don’t care.” He moved to the door. “I should go now.”

“Wait,” I said. “Can you give me Marcella’s number?”

Growl shook his head. “Not my place.”

I almost rolled my eyes. “All right, then give me Matteo’s number. Or does he need protection from me as well?”

Growl ignored my sarcasm and took out his cell phone. I noted down Matteo’s number. From the three Vitiello men, he seemed my best option to get Marcella’s number. Maybe Luca would be pissed if I didn’t ask him, but I had absolutely no intention of crawling to him every time I wanted to contact Marcella. He could suck it up.

I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. I’d never lived in the middle of the city, in an apartment high above the city. I wasn’t sure I liked being so high up above the ground. I preferred my bike closer to me. If I felt the need to take a ride, I didn’t want to have to walk ten minutes.

I leaned against the glass, stunned by the turn my life had taken. If someone had told me a few months ago, I would have called them crazy. Shaking my head, I took out the cheap phone I’d bought in a pawnshop and called Matteo.

He picked up after three rings. “Vitiello.”

His voice was cold and businesslike.

“Hey future uncle-in-law, can you give me Marcella’s number?” I couldn’t resist the provocation. Matteo seemed like someone who could deal with it, better than Luca or Amo anyway.

Matteo let out a sharp laugh. “Hey future-fish-food, trying to bypass my brother is a fucking bad idea. Even a pea-brained biker should grasp that.”

In the background, I could hear female voices, distant at first then closer. “Is that Marcella’s lover boy?” someone asked, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“Not now,” Matteo said, and his voice had a softer note I’d never heard.

“That’s kind of cool,” said a higher girl’s voice. “Can I ride his bike one day?”

“Sure as duck not,” Matteo said.

I snorted. “Sure as duck?”

“But Dad!”

“Your daughter can ride my bike if she wants.”

“Careful,” Matteo whispered in a deadly voice. “I don’t want you anywhere near my family anytime soon.”

“Of course not,” I gritted out.

“Matteo, we can decide who we want to meet or not, and if he’s the man Marcella chose then I sure as hell want to meet him, with or without your approval. You’re free to guard us of course.”

Ouch. Matteo’s wife had big balls.

“Sure, babe. But if biker boy looks the wrong way at you or Isa, I’ll ram my blade into his throat with or without your approval.”

“Eww, Dad! That’s disgusting.”

I heard rustling and then a door closing.

“I’d never thought that you Vitiellos allow women to talk up to you. Old Ladies know when to keep their mouths shut and show respect.”

“See, we Vitiellos might be brutal fuckers who carve our enemies open like a goddamn Halloween pumpkin but we treat our women right. If that’s not something you can do, you better ride your bike into the sunset ASAP.”

“Calm down. If I wanted a woman who worshipped the ground I walked on, I wouldn’t have picked Marcella. I like that we’re equals.”

Matteo made a noise that suggested we weren’t really. I chose not to comment. After all, I needed his cooperation. “What about Marcella’s number?”

“Call Luca.” He hung up on me.

“Fuck!” I stared out of the window. I wanted nothing more than to talk to Marcella, to be reminded why I was here in this place, why I chose to be surrounded by enemies.

I went to the marble bathroom and took a piss, still seething, when my phone beeped with a message with a number and the words:

Marci can decide if she wants to talk to you. But if you hurt her, you’re dead. Gianna

The name distantly rang a bell. I could only assume she was Matteo’s wife.

Thanks

I considered calling Marcella, desperate to hear her voice again, but I wasn’t sure if that would alert Vitiello. I wouldn’t put it past him to confiscate her phone just to stop us from talking.

Instead, I messaged her. She replied almost instantly and just like that, my doubts evaporated. The moments without her were the hard ones, where everything I’d lost loomed over me. The moments with her? Worth every ounce of pain.