Chapter 2: Isa

CHAPTER 2

CLAIMED

ISA

“ W hat the fuck is this, Isabelle?” Vito growls in a low, menacing tone that would make me pee myself if it wasn’t draped in possessive protectiveness.

My fingers fly to my neck, and I realize, too late, I let him undo my scarf under the spell of his enticing kisses.

I shake my head.

“It’s nothing. Nothing for you to worry about. Just-”

I bend down to pick up my silk Hermes scarf, but of course Vito is faster. He snatches it from the ground in one swift move and fists the delicate fabric so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t disintegrate.

“Who the fuck did this to you, Isa?” He snarls.

And my heart breaks into a thousand pieces. This man, this almost stranger, is getting enraged on my behalf because he suspects I was manhandled, when the one man on this earth who should have ensured my entire life nothing bad ever happened to me is the one inflicting the pain. I swallow with difficulty, my throat clogged. I don’t want to speak, but I’m also unable to do so easily. I just stand there, staring Vito in the eye.

He cups the side of my face and his tone is much more controlled and warm when he asks, “who hurt you, sweetheart?”

I feel one lone tear slide down my cheek, but don’t move to wipe it off. Can’t move. I know I’m only holding on by a thread. If I give in to the emotions that Vito’s reaction are stirring up inside me.

“Was it your dad?”

My jaw is so tight, it feels like my teeth could shatter any moment now. I hold his intense gaze, all thoughts of how hot he is, how good he feels, how amazing his kisses were, fading into whiffs of smoke. My chest is filled with pain, anger, frustration, and sadness. So much sadness. I fucking hate my life. Hate that my father is using Gabi and I as pawns in his schemes. Hate that despite all my sass, my big mouth, my apparent boldness, I felt I had no choice. Hate that I still feel some stupid sense of duty toward Stephane Sinclair. After everything my father has done. To our mother, to my sister and me. The thought of the two of them is the last nail in the coffin of my composure. I let out an involuntary, strangled sob, and titter in my heels, pressing my back to the wall behind me to maintain my balance.

I’m tired, so fucking tired.

I barely sag against the hard stone surface for a second, that Vito wraps his big, strong hands around me, lifts me in his powerful arms and holds me tightly into his broad chest. It’s like a warm blanket in the deep cold of winter. A kiss on the forehead from your soulmate. Tender words of love whispered into your ear. It’s everything. Soothing, comforting, heartwarming. I melt into his embrace, burying my face in the crook of his neck. The fragrance of his woodsy cologne, the musk of his manly scent, the feel of his strong body… all that’s Vito Romano. His aura of power, the firm pace of his swagger… The overwhelming wave of emotions that crashed over me begins receding slowly as I inhale Vito’s scent, snuggle into his heat, and let my body relax into his embrace. I know that wherever he’s taking me, I’ll be safe.

MISHA

We all turn around when we hear footsteps coming from the balcony. And I swiftly stand up on my feet when Vito walks into the library, carrying Isabelle in his arms. What the fuck? She’s clinging to him, face tucked into his body. Something is wrong here.

“What the hell is going on, Romano? What happened?” O’Malley growls, at the same time striding towards them, big, tall, and fucking enraged.

The entire fucking room vibrates with waves of rage coming from each one of us. Vito plants himself in the center of the circle we’ve formed, holding our girl like she’s the most precious fucking thing in the world.

“Keep your fucking shit, Danni,” he says between clenched teeth. Then, letting his gaze meet our eyes, one after the other, he adds, “someone hurt Isabelle.”

We all take a step closer, jaws bunched, hands fisting, my own fingers reaching for the gun I have tucked at the waistband of my tailored slacks, under my suit jacket.

Vito gives me a brief nod, and I understand shit is about to go down. We know each other inside and out. We can read the tiniest of cues from each other. These men are my best friends, my brothers. What runs between us is thicker than blood, and more lethal than any of our enemies could imagine. Together we are unstoppable, and we will fucking annihilate anyone who touches a single hair on our woman’s head.

I take the last step separating Vito and Isabelle from the rest of us and gently run a hand over her soft hair.

Turning a gaze I know is burning to Vito, I ask, “what happened and who did it?”

He takes a deep inhale, the wings of his nose flaring, before answering in a low, barely audible growl, “our fucking woman has fucking bruises on her neck, brother. Shaped like a fucking hand print. She wouldn’t talk, but I think we all know only one person would do that shit to her.”

Our eyes instantly turn in the direction of the room entrance. The door to the library is wide open, and we can hear Stephane and his men chatter. He left the room to give us fucking privacy. Left his fucking daughter with not one, not two, but four fucking gangsters, after one of them dragged her into a recluse area for a little tête-à-tête. Yeah, that fucking piece of shit is definitely capable of hurting Isa.

I cock my gun back and head for the door.

I vaguely hear Vito curse behind me, but the red film covering my vision and the deafening buzz in my ears block out his calls.

“Fucking hell, Mikhail! Wait!”

Should have fucking thought of that before telling me someone fucking put their hands on my woman .

ISA

Oh, my God! What have I done? Mikhail looks ready to bulldoze through an entire army. Vito is holding me so tight, I fear he’ll never let go. And Danni and Sal? Their lethal silence and the waves of fury emanating from them would make me scared to shit if I didn’t know it’s on my behalf.

When we entered the room. I slowly pulled my face from its comforting cocoon, tucked at the juncture of Vito’s neck and shoulder, and let my eyes roam around. The other three men rapidly closed up around us, and what I read on their handsome faces feels my chest and belly with warmth. I must be a sick person myself because witnessing the raw, beastly rage wafting off their massive bodies makes me feel safe, cared for. And even in these circumstances, more than a bit turned on. I feel a tall, muscular, protective form wrapped around me, and three pairs of fierce eyes claiming me. I’m fucking done for. My ever-present apprehension about what would be my father’s next bout of rage, beating, or mad decision melts away like ice in the sun. I realize he can’t hurt me anymore. Not behind the reinforced wall of these titans’ protection. I don’t know how long their interest in me will last, but I will use this opportunity to escape my miserable circumstances.

“I’m fine, I promise.” I look from one seething man to the other. “Just get me out of here, please.”

They exchange meaningful gazes and stern nods, and all three pull guns from different locations, holsters under their expensive designer suits’ jackets, their trousers’ waistbands…. Oh My God .

“Wait! Don’t kill him, please.”

Their burning eyes carve holes into my skull.

“My… my sister. Gabrielle… He… My father gave her away to Michele DeLuca, and… he… he’s not kind to her.”

That’s all I need to say. We’re all aware of the decades long feud between my dad and the DeLucas. My father committed a crime Michele had to take the fall for, making him lose twenty years of his freedom. Now the man is out, and all good ole daddy could think to save his ass is gift him one of his daughters as payment. Fucking disgusting.

“The only way I can think of to help my sister is to trade her for my dad. We need him alive. At least until Gabi is free. After that… after that, I really don’t care.”

I get a few nods, and Vito pulls me closer to kiss my forehead. God, that feels good.

“Okay, mi reina ,” Sal rasps out. “ Andale, carnalitos .”

He’s carrying a fucking semi-automatic. I can’t even fathom where the hell he had that thing hidden. The three of them file.out of the library in long, purposeful strides. Vito and I closing the line.

I run a palm over the lapel of his jacket.

“I can walk, honey.”

His searing dark gaze pins me in place. And I shut my mouth and snuggle deeper into his broad chest, a small smile stretching my lips. Fucking psycho . If someone had told me I’d be feeling all warm and fuzzy, hot and bothered, and fucking at peace today, I would never have believed it. But here I am, surrounded by four strapping badasses. Wanted, protected, cared for. I’ll fucking take it. However long it lasts…

DANNI

We step out of the ridiculously ostentatious library and into a hallway that’s just as fucking laughable. Gleaming dark marble floors, more absurdly expensive rugs, and a grand staircase that would be better suited for a European chateau. A fucking joke .

The moment we step out, Stephane and his men turn our way. Still grinning about whatever the fuck they were talking about. But the instant their eyes meet our fucking pissed off expressions, their faces fall.

Stephane rushes to meet us, his eyes shifting from Vito, who’s still fucking carrying Isa, to the rest of our small group.

I’m not exactly sure how I fucking feel about Vito carrying Isabelle bride style. Yeah, I like that she’s safe in my brother’s arms, but I’m also fucking itching to snatch her away and guard her myself.

“What happened? You okay, Isa?”

Before he can get too close, Sal, Misha, and I come stand in front of Vito and Isabelle, effectively blocking access to them.

Stephane starts expression his outrage.

“What the-”

But the words die on his lips as his eyes grow big when they finally take notice of our weapons. How this moron survived this long in our world is an absolute mystery. Dipshit isn’t even observant enough to catch deadly weapons held right under his nose.

I move to stand right in front of him. Toe to toe, towering over him with all my might. Stephane Sinclair is not a small man, but I’m a fucking giant.

“We’re leaving,” I growl in his face. “Out of our way. You and your man.”

“W… what?”

I raise my Glock and pull the slide, the metallic sound resonating in the deafening silence.

“Boss, we…” one of Stephane’s men’s starts.

Fucking douche never gets a chance to finish. I aim at him and shoot. He collapses, holding his leg, and yelling like a pig at the slaughterhouse.

I let my icy gaze roam through Stephane Sinclair and the two other men he still has standing. I’m not fooling myself. All it would take is the press of a button and he’d have an army of goons descending on us. But we have his daughter, which I hope has some meaning for him. And also Stephane knows it would also take very little for our own armies from all four of our families to fucking invade this place.

“Daniel, I don’t think… Maybe we could go to my study and discuss all this. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“There’s no fucking misunderstanding, you fucking cum-dump.”

I move even closer and press the mouth of my gun to his fucking forehead.

“You fucking marked her.”

My tone is lethal, and looking into his eyes, I can tell Stephane understands just how crazy I am right now. How all I want is for him to do or say the wrong thing and give me a reason to fucking pull the trigger.

“Just fucking say something.”

He stares at me with wide eyes but doesn’t say a word. When I pull the gun off his skin, I can see an angry darker circle. The gun is still hot from the bullet I shot in his guard’s leg.

“Give me a fucking reason to put a fucking bullet in your head and end your miserable fucking life.”

ISA

Oh My God! Danni’s pressing a gun on my father’s head, growling in his face like he’s about to lose the sliver of restraint he has left, any second now. My big, tall, scary father doesn’t dare move a muscle. He fucking knows who he’s dealing with. Knows any of these men would end his life as easily as they draw their next breath.

“Danni, please,” I plead.

I watch him crack his powerful neck from side to side, then turn my way and nod one single time, before pulling the barrel of his gun from my dad’s face. Then he pockets the firearm and wraps a huge mitt around my father’s neck, squeezing and almost lifting him off the ground!

Stephane Sinclair is not a small man. He’s taller than six feet and heavier than two hundred pounds of muscle. But Danni O’Malley is a motherfucking beast. Only a few inches taller than my dad, but with at least a dozen pounds more of pure muscle. Plus, he’s blazing with fury. His eyes seem lit up from the inside. The veins at the back of his hand are popping.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end, huh? Dipshit,” he growls again.

His lethal gaze never leaving my father’s face, as if reveling in the expression of agony, the bulging eyes, the frantic hand gestures grasping on his hold. My father’s voice is barely audible, and the faint wheezing sound escaping his lips is but the ghost of his desperate supplications. His feet kick the air. And just when his eyes start rolling back in his head, Danni lets go, and my dad collapses on the floor, taking large gulps of air, a mix of anger, fear, and despair flashing through his eyes. One of his men kneels before him and helps him sit up. Another slides a hand inside his jacket and takes a step in our direction. Danni raises a single eyebrow.

“You fucking pull that piece out. Please. And you see what fucking happens.”

The guy swallows with difficulty, his hesitant gaze sifting from our small group to my father. Dad manages to shake his head.

“Get out,” he rasps out in a croaked voice, face still constricted.

Probably from having the fucking daylights squeezed out of him.

“Get the fuck out of my house and take this rat bitch with you.”

At his words, I feel the air shift in the space we’re occupying. The already enraged vibe turns feral. Sal shoulders Danni out of his way and advances to go tower over my dad.

“What the fuck did you call her?”

His face closed off in some ridiculous act of bravado. My father lifts his chin and looks away. Pretty stupid when you know who he’s dealing with.Sal leans down and, in a quick and brutal move, shoves the tip of his gun into my father’s mouth. We hear teeth brutally clattering against metal, accompanied by a pained whimper.

“You watch your fucking mouth, old man,” he adds in a guttural tone that makes shivers run down my spine. And they’re not entirely fear-induced…

“Just go, now,” my father mumbles when Sal removes the gun from between his lips, holding his bleeding mouth, the guards frantically hovering over him.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Sal rumbles.

Then my eyes meet my dad’s and I read so much rage, so much hate, so much pure, unadulterated resentment, that my skin crawls. His eyes are clearing, stating that if he ever gets his hands back on me, I’m a dead woman.

SAL

“Are you fucking stupid? What the fuck did I just say, you fucking piece of shit?” I bark at Stephane Sinclair.

He lowers his gaze, keeping his fucking eyes averted. Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.

“Let’s get out of this fucking place,” Danni says.

And we all file behind him, guns in hand, still forming a protective circle around Vito and our girl. Misha and I walking backwards behind them til we exit the house.

We came in separate cars. We always do. Safety first. Using in a single vehicle would make it too easy for our enemies to decapitate four families in one shot.

The three of us walk Vito and Isa to his gleaming black Maserati Levante. He gently settles her into the passenger seat, then swiftly rounds the car and takes off. There’s no time to waste. Isabelle needs to be taken to safety, and who knows how long it will take Sinclair to start thinking about retaliation. Misha, Danni, and I jump into our luxurious sports cars and speed away, making gravel fly, and dust fill the air in the mansion’s circle driveway. Vito’s driving in the middle, sandwiched between us, and we all know where we’re taking our woman.

We drive away from Delmonte and the coast, inland, pass the Alisal River, and end up on the winding dirt road that climbs up the Santo Lucio Mountains. Thirty minutes after we left Stephane Sinclair’s mansion, we arrive at our destination. From the outside, it’s a modest one-story house, hidden behind lines of tall trees, tucked away high up.

We had this place built up from the ground. It’s secluded and safe. A veritable bunker. It’s also full of surprises, and I can’t wait to witness Isabelle’s reaction when she gets the grand tour. Because the modest facade is just that. A decoy. the house expands at the back and underground into eight thousand square feet of reinforced walls, bulletproof windows, and luxurious amenities. We could keep her tucked away and pampered here for weeks without needing any contact with the outside world.

There are ten bedrooms, including one large shared space, with a custom-made bed. All equipped with their own decadent bathrooms and vast walk-in closets filled with clothes and accessories for all five of us. A movie theater, indoor pool, gym, sauna, tennis court, library, professional kitchens, a game room. And more.

We’ve been preparing for this moment for a long while. What we feel for this woman. The lust, the affection… The wild possessiveness. It cannot be described or contained. Isabelle Sinclair is ours, and today we will show her. We’ll claim her, make love to her, fuck her stupid, and make her feel like she’s the most precious being in the world.

Misha’s driving ahead, so when the garage door slides up, I know he must have activated the mechanism. We file in behind what seems from the outside like a simple two-car garage, but once inside turns out to be spacious enough to fit ten sizable vehicles.

When Vito gets to Isabelle’s door, her long, shapely legs stretch out, and she rises off her seat, eyes wide, taking in her surroundings.

“What’s… what’s this place?” she asks, her throaty voice filled with awe.

For the first time since Vito came out of the balcony carrying Isa in his arms, my mouth hooks up to the side, and I know everything will be alright. The four of us together have always been able to accomplish anything we put our mind to. And now that we have our girl by our side? We’re fucking unstoppable.

ISA

I know I must look like an idiot, but I can’t help it. This place is fucking insane. My eyes go from the four men surrounding me to all the high security and expensive gadgets all around, and I’m floored.

What almost looked like a cozy mountain cabin from the exterior is in fact, a sprawling mansion on the inside. The open floor plan stretches deep into the back. And there’s a fucking elevator, discreetly carved into one wall, that takes us to the lower level, which is even more impressive than the top floor. The guys show me how the different elements of the security system, and I feel like I’m in Fort Knox. Between the reinforced steel, cameras and alarms, everywhere, panic buttons, lock-down areas.

“What is this place?” I ask, standing in the middle of a magnificent family room. All warm, cozy, and luxuriously furnished.

“Ours,” Danni volunteers.

“We had it built,” Misha adds.

“This is our safe place,” Vito chimes in, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“No one will harm you here,” Sal concludes.

My head turns from one sexy giant to the other. And I remember. I remember why I used to avoid being in the presence of all four men at the same time. It’s too much. Especially after today’s events. I’m used to violence and extreme situations with my father. But add to that the quadruple effect of The Tetrad? I’m fucking done for.

“Okay, this is a lot,” I sigh, removing my shoes, and settling on the closest couch.

“It’s okay, honey. Maybe you could come get some rest,” Sal says.

I feel the weight of the entire day’s events fall on my shoulders.

“Yeah? That would be okay?”

“Of course, baby,” Vito adds.