Bloodied Hands (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 1)

I stepped away from my mother, touching my father's shoulder affectionately. "I didn't do that because I was broken," I admitted, saying the words I had never even dared to speak to myself. But they were the truth, regardless. "I knew, even back then, that what I had with Matteo was special. I knew that I'd never find it again, because I was only capable of falling in love like that once. Not looking was just easier than being disappointed constantly."

"He hurt you," Daddy whispered.

I nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes. "He did," I agreed. "But we were just kids, Daddy. If I can forgive him, why shouldn't you give him a chance to show you why I did?"

My father nodded slowly, turning to Matteo and holding out a hand for him to shake with a sigh. "You hurt her again, and I'll have Adam make sure they never find your body."

Matteo nodded solemnly. "I'll die before I let anything hurt her ever again."

They released hands, helping mom carry things to the table while I checked the pasta.

And we settled into our slightly awkward, first-of-many family dinners.

???

There were two more people who needed to know about the wedding, and one of them needed to be the one to approach me.

No matter how things may have turned out, what Sadie had done in calling Matteo to inform him of my date had been a betrayal.

It was one I knew I would forgive her for, but not before she apologized for it at least. My two best friends not knowing that I was getting married, when I'd always seen them every day, was proving to be too much for me. I was an emotional mess, the isolation mixed with the frantic questions from the wedding planner at odd times throughout the day, were going to my head. I needed a brief reminder of someone who had always been a constant in my life.

So naturally, I took to harassing Duke like a maniac. I called him five times a day, even knowing I looked like a crazy person. He'd ignored my calls and texts for long enough, and it was time for both of us to grow up and face the conversation like adults so we could work on mending our friendship.

He'd finally caved, relenting to my emotional plea over the phone for him to come to the estate. I'd completely expected him to refuse to meet me here, but given the security threat from Adrian, Duke seemed more concerned with my safety than with his pride. I figured that had to be a good sign, coming from my hotheaded friend.

Still, when Donatello escorted Duke into the kitchen where I stood wringing my hands in nervousness, the cool expression on his face made me flinch. His normally perfectly styled dirty blond hair was a mess, his smooth face covered in stubble. He shrugged, glancing down at the work clothes he didn't normally wear out of his studio. "I've been working," he explained. "Turns out getting your heart stomped on is good for the muse."

I winced, stepping around the island to stand directly in front of him. "I'm sorry," I said, throat tightening with the threat of tears. "I don't want to hurt you."

He stared down at me, cornflower blue eyes tormented. "Then don't. We can leave town until things die down. Go somewhere Adrian can't touch you." He reached out a hand covered in cuts and scars, calloused and rough, to touch my cheek. I leaned into it briefly, drawing in a deep breath to try to gather my strength to deal with the outcome of my admission.

"We're getting married," I said, steeling my spine.

I watched as his brow furrowed, realizing that given his offer to run away with me, those words had been insensitively vague, but I didn't know what else to say as he stared at me. I stretched up my left hand, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it supportively. I knew the moment he felt the band around my finger, watched as the confusion melted off his face. His eyes landed on the ring, his lip trembling briefly as shock widened his eyes. "You're marrying him?"

"In July."

"Ivory." He croaked, leaning down to press his forehead to mine. "How am I supposed to deal with this? I can't watch you marry him, sweetheart. You're making a mistake."

"Then it was my mistake to make," I whispered back, hating the way his eyes hardened at my words. He pulled his hand back, taking his face from mine and stepping away.

"You don't know what he's capable of. He's—"

"I know everything," I said shortly. I might not have been privy to all the details, but I knew more than I ever wanted to know about Matteo's businesses.

"

You what? Do you hear yourself? The Ivory I know would never be okay sharing her body with a criminal! He hurts people for a living," Duke rasped, staring at me in a way I'd never felt from him.

Judged.

Less.

Somehow, he'd built up this fantasy in his head where I was perfect.

I wasn't. I was a mess, a shell of a woman too afraid to love, because no one would ever live up to the real deal.

No one would ever be Matteo Bellandi.