Chapter Nine

All through the night, I kept thinking about my reunion with Maddox. It had been overshadowed with so many conflicting emotions: anger toward Maddox and Dad and Amo, relief, joy, but also worry over what lay ahead. Almost everyone was against this bond.

I needed to talk to someone about Maddox, about my feelings and what had happened. I loved Mom and I talked about almost everything with her, but this was something I couldn’t share with her, especially my worries over a possible pregnancy. I was still desperately waiting for my period, which I should have gotten yesterday.

I’d on occasion talked to my girlfriends from college about Giovanni, about meaningless couple things, but this was too personal, which was strange considering I wasn’t even in a relationship with Maddox yet. I wasn’t sure what we were at this point. I wanted us to be together, that was all I knew.

But our relationship was far more controversial and explosive than anything with Giovanni had ever been.

I messaged Aunt Gianna, asking if she had time for a one-on-one yoga session.

She replied within a minute. I’m already in the studio. Come over. After getting the okay from Dad, which he insisted I had to ask for every time I left the house now, I let one of my bodyguards take me to Gianna’s gym.

Gianna waited for me at the staff door, dressed in yoga pants and a cutoff tank. None of the other mafia wives, especially if they were moms, dressed like that, which was one of the reasons why Gianna was perfect for the conversation I needed to have. She defied conventions and lived however she wanted to live, within certain restrictions of mob life.

Gianna gave me a smile and brief hug before she led me into her cozy yoga room. It smelled of vervain and was heated to a tank top temperature all year around. Gianna sank down on one of the blood-red poofs and I did the same right across from her. She searched my face but didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t really sure how much she knew, definitely whatever Matteo knew because he’d given up keeping things from her.

“Did biker boy contact you last night?”

“He did,” I said. “Thanks for giving him my number. I hope you didn’t get in trouble because of me.”

Gianna grinned. “I can handle trouble, don’t worry.”

“I suppose you can,” I said, brushing my hair back behind my ear out of habit, and regretting it when Gianna’s eyes lingered on my injured ear. It was still too tender to wear ear jewelry for more than a very short amount of time.

“You should always wear it like that when you’re meeting with Made Men. Maybe it’ll remind them that women aren’t weak. After all, we handle giving birth.”

I laughed. “Maybe. They’ll probably just pity me. I despise pity.”

Gianna’s lips curled. “Ditto. But I doubt anyone would ever pity you, Marci. Not if you don’t give them reason to. Show them who’s boss.”

I nodded, but my mind drifted to Maddox once more. I was excited about seeing him again in the afternoon, something I hadn’t mentioned to Dad yet.

“I assume there’s a reason why you’re here? And it’s not fitness related.”

I sighed. “It’s probably no news, but Maddox and I got together while I was in the clubhouse.” Together seemed like such a ridiculous description of what had happened, but what we had defied a definition.

“Okay,” Gianna said slowly. “You don’t sound happy about it. Did he force you to do anything you didn’t want?”

“God no. I wanted it. I enjoyed it.” I gave an apologetic shrug. “I know people won’t understand, and even condemn me for it. But I don’t regret it.”

My belly bustled with butterflies just thinking about being with Maddox again. Maybe the odds were stacked against us, but I wanted him.

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself.”

“Have you lived in a different world these last few years?” I asked wryly.

“I know the unwritten rules. They haven’t changed since I was a teen, but I always had trouble following them. If you want to live by your own rules, you just have to make sure you can live with the backlash. There will be nasty rumors about you, and they probably won’t ever die down.”

I grimaced. Rumors about Gianna’s escape still made the rounds at social events. People had made up the most ridiculous stories. I had never asked Gianna about them because I hadn’t wanted to be someone who listened to rumors.

“Ask,” Gianna said.

“I know what Mom told me,” I said with a sheepish smile. “That you ran off after you got engaged to Matteo because you didn’t want to marry him, but he caught you after almost a year and forced you to marry him.”

“He’d say he saved me from being killed by my asshole of a father by giving me the chance to marry him,” Gianna said, rolling her eyes.

“It’s true, though, right?”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have to play the knight-in-shining-armor. He only wanted me in his bed.”

I shook my head with a laugh. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

“And it’s why your dad would prefer if you talked to someone else.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you weren’t a virgin either when you married.”

Gianna tilted her head. “I was, but that’s completely irrelevant.”

My eyes widened. “I thought you slept with a few European guys while you were on the run.”

“I wanted to, and I made out with a few, but I never went all the way. Your uncle insists it was because I secretly only desired him.”

I frowned.

“To be honest, if I could turn back time, I probably wouldn’t run, but I’d have sex with Matteo in every corner of my old home to pay my father back and present white sheets to him after the wedding night.”

“So the rumors about you are wrong and still people badmouth you. I don’t want to know what they’ll do with me, considering the rumors are right.”

“You slept with Maddox, so what. That’s your business.”

“I wanted to do it,” I defended myself. I wasn’t even sure why I felt the need to defend myself, especially in front of Gianna, but the rules of our world were deeply ingrained in me.

“Good for you,” Gianna said. “I’m guilty of having a thing for bad boys, as Matteo always points out, and a biker from Tartarus is as bad boy as you can get.”

I huffed out a laugh. “You make it sound as if I’m a randy teenager who just wanted to enjoy herself.”

“You should enjoy yourself before your responsibilities catch up with you. You chose the perfect guy. Nobody will expect you to marry Maddox, even if he was your first.”

“I want to be with Maddox. It’s more than physical.”

Gianna pursed her lips. “It’s your life, Marci. You only have this one go at it. Live the life you want. If you want to have fun with the biker boy then have fun and move on. If you want to have fun and get serious with him, then do that. But either way, the conservatives will burn you at the stake for it. Prepare for the fight of your life and be ready to win.”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll be there for you whenever you need me.”

“Thanks, Gianna,” I said, then hesitated. “Can you do me a favor and get me a pregnancy test?”

Gianna froze. “Oh Marci, don’t tell me biker boy was too stupid to use a condom.”

“It just happened.” I grimaced at how stupid that sounded, but the situation had been extraordinary.

“How long are you overdue?”

“Just one day. It’s probably nothing.”

“You better hope that’s true because your father will kill Maddox if he got you pregnant and I doubt Aria will stop him.”

“I know.”

“What does biker boy say to his possible fatherhood?”

“I haven’t told him yet. I want to wait until I’m sure. He isn’t in the best state right now.”

“Neither are you. I don’t see why you should worry alone. He’s just as responsible as you are.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Can you get me a test?”

“Of course, but I don’t have any lying around so I’ll have to grab one in the pharmacy during my lunch break. I can pop over tonight and give it to you, all right? Or do you need it sooner?”

“No. A few hours more or less doesn’t really matter.”

“If you say so. I’d want certainty as soon as possible.”

“I have my tattoo appointment in the afternoon so I’ll be busy.”

Gianna nodded. “Don’t let anyone determine your worth, Marci. Promise me.”

I hugged Gianna before I got up.

“I won’t. I promise,” I said. I hadn’t cared what Earl thought about me, but his words inked into my back, could become words whispered among the Famiglia. And I couldn’t help but worry about it.

“I still don’t like the idea of him tagging along,” Amo muttered when Maddox pulled up in front of the mansion on a brand-new Harley. It looked remarkably like his old bike, but without the Tartarus hellhound. He wasn’t wearing his cut either, only black jeans, a black T, leather jacket, and biker boots. Not even a helmet.

I couldn’t help but smile despite my anxiety about the tattoo appointment.

“He couldn’t live without a new Harley for long,” Amo muttered. I loved seeing Maddox on a bike. It was where he belonged, but a part of me worried he really couldn’t live without the biker lifestyle. Two bodyguards were already waiting in front of the door, and one sat behind the steering wheel of the limousine with armored glass.

Dad had insisted I take three guards with me. He didn’t count Maddox as additional protection—quite the opposite.

Amo followed me outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to tag along as well.

I headed toward the curb. Maddox got off his bike and made a step in my direction as if he was planning on greeting me with a kiss. I side-stepped him casually to check out his bike, worried that paparazzi were around. A photo of a kiss between Maddox and me would really fire up a scandal. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Not before I felt more like my old self, and definitely not before Maddox and I had discussed us.

Maddox raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. Amo lifted his jacket to reveal two guns. “Do you need one to defend Marcella?”

I gave him a grateful smile. That was his way of making peace with Maddox. Maybe last night’s conversation had really changed things in his mind. I hoped it had. If the outside world was against Maddox and me, I needed at least my family on my side.

“Thanks, but I’m equipped.” He lifted his leather jacket in the back, revealing a gun. Then he turned to me. “I suppose you won’t ride with me?”

I could see the disappointment in his face, but for one, Dad would throw a fit if I didn’t drive in the safe limousine, and I didn’t want photos like that yet. “I have to take the car.”

Maddox nodded once. The distance between us, physically and emotionally, killed me, and judging from his expression, it killed him too. “I’ll drive ahead to check if the road is safe, Snow White.”

Snow White. I’d despised the name in the beginning, but not anymore.

He mounted his Harley again and gave me a look that made me regret not riding with him. I wanted to share this with him, wanted to understand what he felt when he rode his Harley. Instead, I got into the limousine and watched through the tinted windows as he drove ahead. I’d thought it would be easier for me to admit my feelings for Maddox in public, but this was still too fresh, too uncertain for me to be willing to make myself so vulnerable in front of others. Everyone was watching with bated breath, ready for the scandal to unfurl.

Maddox stopped at the curb in front of the tattoo parlor. He narrowed his eyes at something down the road. I got out as Maddox got off his bike and headed for the front door of the tattoo studio, which had closed so I’d have privacy while getting my tattoo. This time he didn’t try to touch or kiss me, and I resented my own cowardice. “What did you see?”

“I thought I saw a lens.”

I looked in the direction he had, but I knew I wouldn’t see anything. I rarely did. I’d know tomorrow if paparazzi had followed us.

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Maddox asked, returning my attention to the parlor.

“Yes, please,” I said softly. Whatever he saw on my face made protectiveness flare up in his eyes. One of my bodyguards checked the tattoo studio while Maddox and the other waited with me. Once inside, only Maddox stayed close by as the tattoo artist greeted us. He was covered from head to toe with tattoos, even his bald head and throat. Only his face was still untouched. The tattoos adorning his body were colorful and intricate, nothing like the horrid scribbling on my back.

It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable in our presence. I didn’t really feel comfortable in this place either. I’d never wanted a tattoo, and I still wouldn’t have chosen to get inked if it hadn’t been forced upon me. He led us over to a lounge chair and I sat down on it, feeling reminded of a doctor’s office. It didn’t really settle my nerves.

The man, Constantine, cleared his throat. “Can I take a look at the tattoo you want to cover?”

“Oh, of course.” Few people had seen it yet and I felt hesitant about having the bodyguards see it. Dad would make sure they didn’t say anything, but on occasion tidbits of information reached a wife’s ears and then all bets were off.

“Why don’t you guard the doors with your backs to us?” Maddox said sharply. They ignored him. Maddox stalked toward one of them and got in his face. “Do I have to smash your ugly face in for you to turn around and give your boss’s daughter some privacy?”

“Your word means nothing,” my bodyguard spat out.

I sent him a scathing look. “Turn around.”

Both men finally did, and Maddox stalked back to me, looking pissed. “I can’t even ram my knife into their throats without risking to piss off your father.”

“That wouldn’t be a good start to your cooperation, no,” I said. “They’ll learn to respect you when they realize how brave you are.”

Maddox leaned closer, meeting my gaze. “Fuck, I’d die for a kiss from you right now.”

Heat washed through me. “Later,” I promised.

I unbuttoned my blouse but kept my bra on, then turned my back to the tattoo artist. When he sat down on a stool behind me to inspect the tattoo, I cringed. Maddox watched with crossed arms. His expression reflected a myriad of emotions, anger and guilt at the forefront. He obviously blamed himself, and a tiny part of me did too.

I was glad I didn’t see the tattoo artist’s face when he read the words on my back. I hadn’t looked at them again after that first night. “Can you cover it up?” I whispered, terrified he might say no.

“It’ll take a few sessions, depending on what you want.”

“You need a crown, that’s for sure,” Maddox said.

I peered up at him, catching the tattoo artist nodding from the corner of my eye. “That could work. A crown could cover up both words if we choose one with a wide rim and deep coloring.”

“A crown,” I said with a smile. “That’ll annoy many people.”

“We wouldn’t want that, right?” Maddox grinned daringly.

“A crown it is,” I confirmed. “Maybe… maybe we can keep the word Vitiello? Weave it into the crown somehow?”

“That could work. But the original words would be covered up completely. This is horrid work. Even first year trainees do a better job on pig’s skin.”

I tensed. I knew he was angry because of the ugly tattoo and didn’t want to make me feel bad, but I was definitely not as thick-skinned about this as I wanted to be.

“Hey, how about you think before you talk?” Maddox growled.

Constantine’s eyes grew wide and he leaned back slightly, regarding Maddox warily. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

“It’s okay,” I said firmly, not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than it was. “Can we start right away?”

“Sure, once you’ve chosen a design I can start contouring.”

I picked a crown with an intricate design around the rim so the words could disappear beneath it, a beautiful crown an empress would have worn for her coronation.

Fear washed through me when the tattoo artist grabbed the needle, remembering the helplessness and panic from last time. My hands became sweaty and I sought Maddox’s gaze. He motioned at the tattooist to wait and squatted before me where I lay on my belly on the couch. He took my hand and kissed my palm, his smile reassuring.

I gave a nod and Maddox gave the tattooist the sign. I winced when the needle pierced my skin but quickly realized that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as Cody tattooing me. Maddox held my gaze the next two hours until the contouring was done. His gaze anchored and calmed me. With him by my side, I’d get through this and emerge stronger.

After I’d made my next appointment, we left the studio side by side, but no longer touching. I longed to reach for his hand but held back. I glanced toward Maddox’s bike, desperately wanting to ride with him. And not just that, I wanted to go to his place with him, be alone with him, feel his body on top of mine, but I knew it was too soon.

He nodded with a wistful smile as if he could read my thoughts. “Call me when you need me again,” he said, hovering close to me before he pressed a kiss to my cheek. I could see it in his face that he wanted to do far more than that but he held back, respecting the boundaries I’d set and was already starting to regret.

“Why don’t you come over to meet my mom and little brother?” I asked when Maddox was about to turn back to his bike. I ignored the looks of consternation from the bodyguards. This was a decision I couldn’t really make. Dad was the master of the house and uber protective. The tentative peace between him and Maddox was only a day old, but I was desperate for Mom and Valerio to meet him. They wouldn’t judge Maddox by years of enmity.

Maddox gave me a sardonic smile. He’d probably noticed the guards’ expressions too. “While I’d love to meet your mom, I’m not sure I want to piss off your old man so early on, even if pissing him off really gives me a kick.”

I nodded, trying to mask my disappointment. I was feeling strangely lost and vulnerable at the moment. The raw feeling in my back brought back unwanted memories. Maddox stepped closer, tilting his head. His voice was low and full of concern, when he said, “If you need me, Marcella, I’m there, even if I have to knock your dad out, just say it.”

I shook my head, not wanting to appear weak. “Next time.”

Maddox frowned. “You sure?”

I nodded and took a step back, needing to pull out of the situation. “I should head back before my family worries.”

“I’m sure your guards keep your old man up to date,” Maddox muttered.

“Bye,” I said with a firm smile and got into the car.

Maddox didn’t stop watching me and I had half a mind to ask him to come after all. The car finally pulled away, taking the decision from me. My stomach flipped and my throat became tight. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling so anxious and vulnerable because of the tattoo. I had chosen the design. It would cover up the horrible words Earl had marked me with.

This was supposed to make things better.