Forgivable Sins (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 2)
Page 71
"Then you swing toward the opposite side of your body. It will twist his arm around, and when that happens you grab hold of his wrist. Ready to watch?" And I did, I watched her and saw the way his arm twisted at the shoulder until he had no choice but to rotate his body and face the ground. "Once he's here, push forward. You use his arm to drive him to the ground, and he'll go to his knees. At that point, you can hold him and call for help, or you can run. It won't buy you a ton of time, but we'll get there."
"Okay." I nodded.
“She doesn’t need this,” Emilio interjected. “She has me to protect her.”
“And Ivory had Scar,” Sadie returned, shaking her head in frustration. “Shit happens, at least this way if she ever finds herself without help, she stands a chance.”
I nodded, because that was all I wanted. To have a chance to protect myself if the worst happened, and I was on my own. “I just hope I don’t freeze up in fear.”
“Courage doesn’t mean you aren’t scared. It just means you do it anyway. Now, try on me first," Sadie said, and grabbed hold of my wrist. "Take your time, go slow. I'm not going to fight back. We'll worry about speeding it up after we've got the foundations down." So I did as she said and took my time to drive her to her knees, but I did it and didn't miss a step. "You're a natural," she reassured me even if it felt like a throwaway compliment that I hadn't earned yet. I would earn it in time. "Again," she murmured.
So I did.
Again, and again, and again.
Until it became muscle memory, and no one would ever grab my arm again without me fighting back.
Thirty-Three
Lino
Matteo and I were settled into our seats in his office by the time Don led my father inside. I knew it pained Matteo to have Gabriele in his home, in Ivory’s home, after the shit he’d pulled with her in the past, but the show of power was necessary.
The reminder that Matteo occupied the Bellandi Estate, and not my father, wasn’t one that would go over his head. The Estate had been the seat of our operation for generations, and it had never belonged to my father, and it never would.
“Take a seat,” Matteo grunted, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. I relaxed, leaning against the back of the couch that I knew Ivory worked in when she could, but her workload had reduced when she hired a social media manager.
Now all she did was the cooking and photos, the parts she loved, and she let someone else handle all the obnoxious part of her business that she’d once hated.
“Lino tells me you disrespected Samara,” he continued, leaning forward to tent his hands as he stared my father down. The man had never been the brightest bulb when it came to recognizing just what kind of monster Matteo hid beneath the surface, but that had changed the day Matteo shot him.
My father’s face paled when confronted with what was clearly a mounting frustration for Matteo. “I’ve already stripped you of all your authority within the organization. I’ve allowed you to remain in Chicago against my better judgment. If you do not find a way to become supportive of Samara and Ivory’s positions in our lives as our wives, then you will no longer be permitted to live in the city. I hear Florida is popular among aging men. Perhaps you should consider retiring there.”
“Chicago is my home,” Gabriele grunted, and his face twisted. “I have given my life to this city and this organization. You cannot remove me because you found a pussy you like.”
Matteo sighed, standing from behind his desk and stepping around to glare at him. “I can, and I will. It is only out of respect for the men in our operation who respect you that you still breathe after you pulled a gun on my wife. If you do not plan to show them respect, then don’t think of them at all. They’re none of your concern. If I hear that you’re badmouthing them in any way, you’ll be banished from the city. If anything happens to either one of them, I’ll hold you personally accountable. I suggest you keep that in mind and consider fixing your attitude. We’re entering into a new generation, one that doesn’t believe that blood is the ultimate bond. Our family exists because of loyalty, and you have no place in that.”
“Go home,” I added. “Go home and live out your years in peace in the city that you love so much. Stay out of our homes, stay away from our wives, and stay out of our business. We won’t be tainted by the likes of you any longer.”
My father stood from his chair, glaring over at me. The faint sign of bruises at the top of the column of his throat gave me a surge of pleasure, even if it was sick to enjoy the sight of an injury so similar to Samara’s.
The man had marked me more times than I could count as a child. It seemed appropriate I finally returned the favor.
“I’ll do my best to quiet my hatred for your wives and the way you’ve sullied the bloodline,” he spat, turning on his heel and walking out the office door. Matteo sighed, leaning over the chair and squeezing the back tightly.
“He’s going to be a problem.”
“Yep,” I agreed.
He always had.
Thirty-Four
Samara
Sitting across from Linda’s smiling face at the bistro made me want to sigh with contentment. “Oh honey,” she whispered. “It’s so good to see you smile.”
“You too!” I said back, raising a brow at her. She worried about me too much, and I very much looked forward to making the point that she no longer needed to. Her eyes went to my throat, examining for any trace of the injury she’d last seen me with. “I’m good. Really,” I grinned.