The only good thing about this whole ordeal had been Gianna who had to attend the funeral with her family. She’d ignored my calls ever since she’d found out about our marriage a week ago, but she couldn’t avoid me forever. I was actually looking forward to our first private encounter. I loved when she was angry.
After the meeting, I was on my way to my motorcycle when I heard steps behind me. I turned, finding Luca running my way, the phone pressed against his ear and a thunderous look on his face.
Before I could ask him what had crawled up his ass, he lowered the phone and said. “Cesare called. The Russians are attacking the mansion. Romero is trying to get everyone to safety, but there are too many attackers.”
“Where are Gianna and Aria?”
“I don’t fucking know. We’ll have to take a helicopter.”
I followed Luca toward his car. He floored the gas the moment we both had sat down. We should have never let Aria and Gianna leave for the Hamptons without us. We’d thought they’d be safer there. We’d thought our enemies would attack in the city where so many of the Outfit and from us had gathered to honor my father. We’d been fucking idiots.
Luca hit the steering wheel. “I’m going to hunt down every fucking Russian if they hurt Aria.”
“I’ll be at your side,” I said. I didn’t care how many Russians I’d have to cut into tiny pieces to get to Gianna. Damn it.
When we finally landed near our mansion in the Hamptons, Luca and I didn’t speak. We both knew we might be too late. “They are fine,” I said to Luca.
We got out of the helicopter and shot our way free until we reached the lobby of the mansion. I pulled my knife out of the throat of some asshole and straightened when one of the Russian bastards shouted from inside.
“We have your wife Vitiello. If you want to see her in one piece you better stop fighting and drop your weapons.”
Luca glanced my way. “Don’t do anything stupid, Matteo.”
“You aren’t the only one with something to lose,” I said grimly. “Gianna is in there too.”
Luca gave a nod, then slowly walked forward. I followed a few steps behind him. My eyes found Aria first. One of the Russian underbosses, a fucker named Vitali, was holding a knife against her throat. Luca would kill the bastard.
“So this is your wife, Vitiello?” Vitali asked, but I barely listened.
Gianna was sprawled out on the floor, a huge bruise on her forehead. I could tell that she was trembling, from fear or pain, I wasn’t sure. Her blue eyes met mine. A huge Russian asshole towered over her. Bloodlust filled my body. I twisted my knives in my hands, trying to decide which part of the Russian’s body I’d slice off first, probably the hand he’d used to hit her.
Gianna didn’t take her eyes off me, like she knew I was going to make this all okay. I wouldn’t let any of those fuckers hurt her any more now that I was here. And by God, I’d make them pay, make them regret the day they’d laid eyes on Gianna, made them regret the day they were fucking born.
“Let her go, Vitali,” Luca snarled.
“I don’t think so,” Vitali said in that fucking annoying accent. “You took something that belongs to us, Vitiello, and now I have something that belongs to you. I want to know where it is.” I wasn’t sure what the Bratva bastard did because I kept my eyes on Gianna’s capturer as well as the assholes behind him but Luca took a threatening step forward, then stopped.
“Put your guns down or I’ll cut her throat.”
When pigs learn to fly, motherfucker.
There was a thud, then another. My eyes flew to Luca, who’d dropped his fucking guns to the floor. I couldn’t believe it. He narrowed his eyes at me.
Was he serious? From the look on his face, he was. I put my knives down slowly. Gianna closed her eyes as if she thought everything was over. It wasn’t over, far from it. Not before I’d killed every fucking asshole in the room and made them regret the day they were born.
“Your wife tastes delicious. I wonder if she tastes this delicious everywhere,” Vitali said as he pulled Aria against him like he was going to kiss her. I could tell that Luca was seconds away from attacking.
The Russian asshole behind Gianna nudged her butt with his shoe and grinned. His foot would be the second thing I’d cut off, and I’d take my fucking time killing him.
Vitali licked Aria’s chin. She looked like she was going to be sick. Then she reached into her back pocket and pulled a switchblade out. Where the hell had she found it? The moment she rammed it into Vitali’s thigh, I fell to my knees, gripped my gun with my left hand and one of my knives with my right hand. I shot four times in quick succession. Two bullets tore through the calves of the asshole who’d kicked Gianna, the third broke every bone in his right hand, the fourth smashed the skull of another bastard. I flung the knife at the same time. It pierced the eye socket of Russian number three.
I stormed toward Gianna, slipped my arms under her body and carried her over to the side where she was shielded by a massive wooden sideboard. I knelt in front of her and shot another Russian, then another. Gianna’s face was pressed up against my knee, and I put my palm down on the top of her head, stroking her unruly red hair.
A woman cried out. My eyes darted around until they settled on Luca who was cradling an unmoving Aria in his arms. I froze, my heart slamming against my chest.
“No!” Gianna cried hoarsely. She tried to sit up but her arms gave away and she fell against me. “Aria!”
I wrapped my arm around her and she stared up at me with terror-stricken eyes.