Chapter 23

23

Massimo

I should let her go. This is supposed to be when I allow her to walk away from me and never look at her again. Instead, I circle her wrist with my fingers, and tug on it, so she unbalances and falls against me.

"What the—" She yelps as I twist her arm behind her back, so her breasts are flattened against my chest.

"You don't get to walk out on me like that," I snap. If I sound desperate, it's because I am. If I let her go, I'm not sure when I'm going to see her again, and I can't bear that thought. If I let her leave, she might turn her back on me and disappear again, and I can't allow that.

"It's best we don't see each other. Surely, you realize that?" she says in a low voice. "Whatever we had was over before it even started. I'm not the person you met, Massimo. I've changed."

I push aside the strand of hair that's fallen across her forehead. "You're even more of a woman than when I met you. More courageous. More fearless. Pluckier. More resilient. More everything." I draw my fingers across the scar on her cheek, and she winces.

"And I'm not yours."

My guts twist. Anger slices through my veins. The blood pounds at my temples as I take in the stubborn set to her jaw. I need to leave her, forget what I felt for her. Forget that she's the one woman who'd have made me happy. I try to pull back my arm, but goddammit, I can't. I wind my fingers around the nape of her neck and pull her close.

"Say that again," I say through gritted teeth.

"I. Am. Not—" I haul her to me, so my lips are poised over hers. Our noses almost bump, and our eyelashes nearly entwine. I glare at her and she shivers.

"I want to kiss you. I want to close my mouth over yours, and absorb the little moans you make. I want to nip your lower lip, and when you open your mouth, I want to suck on your tongue and deepen the kiss, until it feels like I am drinking from you."

"Massimo, don't," she whispers.

"I want to drag you up to your tiptoes, spread my legs to take your weight, then plant my other hand on your butt and pull you into the space between my thighs, so you're aware of what you do to me."

A trembling runs down her body. Her chest rises and falls.

"I want to feast on your mouth, and drink from you until my entire body is one large aching throb."

The buzzing grows insistent; something vibrates in my pocket. Another sound of buzzing joins the first, this time from the bag dangling from her wrist. I ignore it all as I hold her gaze.

"I want to ravage your mouth and draw your scent deep into my lungs and hold it there, hoping to carry some part of you with me always."

"Massimo." Her features take on a stricken expression. "Please don't do this. It's not right and you know it."

But it could be.

Fucking fuck.

Of course, I know that. But damn, if I'm not tempted to throw caution to the wind and take what is mine.

The buzzing increases in intensity from my pocket, and from her handbag. She pushes at my shoulders, and we break apart, staring at each other. Her pupils are dilated, her cheeks flushed. Her lips are swollen, even though I haven't kissed her. The blood rushes to my groin. My thighs harden, but my chest feels like someone has stabbed a burning sword into my heart.

Without taking my gaze off of her, I pull my cellphone from my pocket as she flips open her purse and pulls out her device.

" Pronto, " I growl the Italian word for hello into the phone.

"Hello," she says into hers.

"Massimo, where the fuck are you?" Adrian's angry voice comes down the line. "Do you know the kind of shit show you've left behind? The Camorra are asking for the wedding to be pulled forward, after that stunt you pulled."

"What?" I straighten.

The voice at the other end of her phone squawks, the tone as angry as Adrian's.

She pales, backs away as she listens.

"What do you mean, pulled forward?" I snap.

"Exactly that. They're pissed-off that you left your engagement early, and rightly so. What were you thinking, running out of the house leaving everything behind? It's good we managed the situation so they think you had to leave because of a work-related emergency which only you could handle, and it had nothing to do with you chasing after her sister. At least, I think we managed it without their noticing the true reason you left and?—"

"And if that is the reason I left?" I widen my stance.

There's silence, then Adrian clears his throat, "Don't do this, fratello. You're making everything very complicated."

"What's life if you can't follow your instincts, eh?" I drawl.

He blows out a breath. "And what does this instinct tell you? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. You need to get your ass back here and explain it to Michael, and I'm warning you, it's not going to be pretty."

"I can't right now?—"

"You've stretched the good will of the Don already. Don't push it further, brother." He disconnects.

Fuck, fuck. F-u-c-k. I drop the phone into my pocket, glance up to find she, too, has disconnected the call.

"I really do need to go."

I step back and hold out my arm, indicating for her to precede me. I follow her out to her car. She beeps it open, then slides into the driver's seat. She goes to close the door, but I plant my foot in her way, so she has no choice but to leave it open.

"This is not over," I warn.

"It is." She stares straight ahead.

"You haven't seen the last of me," I retort.

"This has to be the last we see of each other. My fiancé is, uh, expected in town soon, and he wouldn't like it if he saw us together."

"Why don't we meet, the four of us?"

"Eh?" She darts her gaze up in my direction. "You mean?—"

"You and me, and the people we're engaged to? Why don't we go out for dinner together?"

"You're joking, right?"

"You are family, after all, so it's not unusual to ask to meet the man you're engaged to." My chest hurts, but I push the sensations aside. If she's hellbent on holding on to this farce, then I am going to dig in until I unearth the truth of the situation. "Unless—" I peer into her eyes "—you're not engaged, in which case?—"

"I am engaged." She tips up her chin. "And fine, I'll arrange for you to meet my fiancé."

"I'll text you the details," I reply.

She pulls the door shut, and I step back barely in time to avoid the door smashing into my leg. A smile curves my lips as she steps on the accelerator and the car leaps forward. She makes a turn and peels out of the parking lot.

Why the hell do I find her temper so attractive? She has more personality in the tip of her little finger than any woman I've ever met. That includes her sister. Not that there's anything wrong with her. She's just not Olivia.

And I'm trapped in this god-awful mess, where I'm engaged to a woman who I have no interest in marrying. Except to fulfill my promise to Nonna—which I have every intention of keeping. But first, I need to figure a way out of this quandary, and face the music with my brothers.

I grab my helmet, swing my leg over my bike, and drive out of the lot.

Half an hour later, I park my bike outside my oldest brother Michael's home and head for the entrance. Before I can ring the doorbell, the door swings open. Adrian scowls at me. "Took you long enough to get here."

"I came as soon as I could. Had some business to finish."

"And did that business have anything to do with the sister of your fiancée?"

"Vaffanculo." Fuck off. I brush past him and head down the corridor with Adrian at my heels.

"He's pissed at you," Adrian murmurs.

"Won't be the first time." With the death of our father, Michael took over as head of the Cosa Nostra. He's also spearheading the plans to legalize our businesses, an initiative I whole-heartedly support, and one which my brother Luca hadn't been in favor of until he fell in love and married Jeanne, Olivia's friend. The two women are still friends, although Olivia has managed to cease all communication since the incident. If it hadn't been for her sister's engagement, I might never have run into her again. And now that I have, I'm going to find a way to keep her. No way am I letting her out of my sight again.

I walk up the hallway and into Michael's study, not surprised to find the rest of my brothers scattered around the space. The floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on opposite walls look down on the wide desk against which Michael leans. Seb and Axel are talking in one corner near the window. Luca is sprawled out in a chair, with Christian on the settee. All of them turn to watch me walk in.

They track me as I cross the floor and fling myself onto the settee.

They don't take their gazes off of me as Adrian shuts the door behind him and walks over to the bar. The silence stretches as he pours out a healthy measure of Macallan into two glasses and brings one over to me. I take a glass from him and throw back the liquor. It burns its way down my gullet and hits my stomach, sparking off a steady heat. I place the glass back on the coffee table, then lean back and watch them watch me. Finally, I throw my arm over the back of the settee and fold one leg over the other.

"Out with it," I snap through gritted teeth.

Still, no one says anything. The tension in the room ratchets up. A bead of sweat slides down my shoulder blades. Not that I'm nervous. I've known these men my entire life. Been with them as each of them navigated the perils of having an abusive father at home, then helped them as they fell in love and overcame challenges to marry their wives. All except Adrian, who's in love with Michael's housekeeper but hasn't found the balls to propose to her yet.

"Anyone care to tell me why I've been summoned?"

The men look at each other, then stay silent.

"If you have nothing to say to me, then I might as well leave."

I start to rise when Michael stops me. "Sit down," he says in a deceptively soft voice.

I take in the determined set of his jaw and sink back. "I know what you're going to say, so you may as well save your breath."

"Do you, now?" He leans forward on the balls of his feet. "Have you any idea how serious the situation is?" His gaze narrows on me. "You walked out of your own engagement. Your. Own. Engagement."

"I did go through with it, didn't I?"

"That's not the point. This is your future we're talking about. You left your fiancée without acknowledging her or speaking a word to her. Worse, you ran out after her own sister. Do you know how grievous that is?"

"Nothing that hasn't been done before." I raise a shoulder. "Men cheat on their fiancées and wives all the time."

"Not the Sovranos. Not anymore," Michael says through gritted teeth. "And anyone who's not a Sovrano does it after they're married. They don't flagrantly ignore their fiancée, and declare to the world they prefer her sister, and?—"

"You and Adrian handled it though, they don't suspect the real reason I left."

"—You insulted the Camorra . You showed them no respect. If you think Diego didn't notice that you walked out and chased after the wrong sister, you're mistaken. He may be weak, but he's not a fool. They are pissed at us, and upset enough to start a clan war, and they'd be justified in doing so. It's why they asked to push forward the wedding and?—"

"No," I snap out.

"— I have agreed," Michael completes his statement.

"I don't." I keep all expression off my face as I face down my oldest brother.

"I don't think I heard you right," Michael says in a dangerously calm voice.

"It's my marriage?—"

"It's a marriage between two clans," Michael points out.

"Things have changed." I cross my arms across my chest.

"You knew when you agreed to the arrangement that you couldn't back out of it."

"All I'm asking for is a little time."

"You lost your right to ask for anything when you took off right after the engagement. What's wrong with you?" Michael looks me up and down. "You are the most responsible of all of us. It's not like you to act without thinking, unlike our brother here." He jerks his chin in Luca's direction. "No offense."

"None taken." Luca smirks. "Perhaps we should ask him what prompted such an action?"

Michael straightens to his full height. "We've been over this. I told you if you wanted to back out, it had to be done before the engagement was solemnized. At that time, you were confident you wanted to go through with the arrangement."

"I still do." Just not with the intended bride. "Look—" I lean forward in my seat. "I understand the importance of this alliance, and that I'm the only one amongst us who can go through with this marriage arrangement. All I'm saying is that I need a little time to sort my shit out."

"And what are you going to do during this time?" Michael crosses his arms across his chest. "If she were going to marry you, she'd have agreed to it by now. She's not interested in it."

"I need a little time to convince her."

"It's only because I understand how it is to fall in love with someone and want to spend the rest of your life with that person that I'm agreeing to this." He shakes his head. "How long do you need?"

I release a breath. "A week."

"You have two days, and if she doesn't agree to marry you at the end of it, you're going through with the wedding as planned. With her sister."