Bound by Hatred (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 3)

“Help Aria! Help her!” she whispered.

She tried to stand again. I helped her up, one arm around her waist, but didn’t let her go to her sister. Luca looked like he would kill anyone who dared to approach. There was an expression on his face I’d never seen before. Leading a life of brutality, Luca and I had the potential to snap. But until now I hadn’t thought there was anything on this planet that could actually bring Luca to the brink.

Gianna started crying. I touched her cheek. “Shh. Aria will be fine. Luca won’t let her die.”

For everyone’s sake I hoped I was right. Gianna leaned against me, hands clutching my shirt. I peered down at her.

When Aria finally opened her eyes, Gianna let out a sob and pressed her face against my chest. I cupped her head, then brushed a kiss against it. She didn’t react. She was probably in shock.

“What about Gianna, Lily and Fabi?” Aria asked in a weak voice.

Gianna lifted her head but didn’t let go of me. “Fine.”

Luca lifted Aria into his arms and after some discussion carried her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. The Doc was already on his way.

Gianna tried to stand on her own but swayed and had to grip my arm. Her eyes lost focus for a moment before they settled on me again. She didn’t say anything, only stared up at me. I lightly brushed my fingertips over the bruise on her forehead. “Is this the only place you’re hurt?”

She shrugged, then winced. “My side hurts, and my ribs.”

“Hey Matteo, what about this asshole?” Romero asked, nudging the Russian who’d kicked Gianna.

“Is he the only survivor?”

“There is at least another one,” Romero said.

“Good. But that one is mine. I’ll question him.”

“That’s the guy who hit my head,” Gianna said quietly.

“I know.”

She searched my face but I wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment but she quickly opened them again.

“You need to lie down,” I said.

She didn’t even try to protest, which was a bad sign. I tightened my hold on her and led her toward the staircase.

“Matteo?” Romero called.

I glanced over my shoulder at him and the other men. “I’ll be back in a moment. Get rid of the bodies, and take the two living Russians down into the basement.”

Romero nodded. “Okay.” Then his eyes slid to Cesare’s body on the ground. There was nothing we could do for him. I’d known him for a long time. He’d been a good, loyal soldier. The time to mourn him would come, but it wasn’t now.

I helped Gianna up the stairs, and pretty much carried her down the corridor toward one of the guest bedrooms. I really wanted to take her to the room I slept in when we were in the mansion but I didn’t want to have a fucking fight, not until Gianna was fit enough to be an equal contestant. She lied down on the bed, and closed her eyes with a groan.

I bent over her. “I want to take a look at your ribs. Don’t punch me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. I wondered if it was because she had a concussion or if she’d finally come to terms with our impending marriage.

I pushed her shirt up, revealing inch over inch of creamy skin, but before my mind could come up with any ideas, I found the first bruises. A big one on her waist and two slightly smaller ones over her ribcage. Gently, I pressed down on the bruise on her waist but she flinched away from my touch with a hiss.

“Fuck. That hurts.”

I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t wait to go down to the basement and have a word with the asshole who’d hurt her. I slid my hands higher, lightly tracing her ribs.

She shivered. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see if your ribs are cracked,” I told her.

“You want to use your chance to grope me, admit it.” Her attempt at humor was ruined by her shaky voice but I decided to play along. She didn’t need to know that I was thinking of a way to prolong her attacker’s suffering.

I smirked. “We’ll be married in less than a year, then I can grope you whenever and wherever I want.”

Her smile died and she turned away, closing her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t come to terms with our marriage yet…

I straightened. “I need to go back down. I’ll send the Doc to you when he’s done with your sister. You should catch some rest. Don’t walk around the house.”

She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t give any indication that she’d heard me at all.

I walked out, and closed the door. The Doc was heading my way, one of his assistants, a young woman whose name I kept forgetting, a few steps behind him. “Where’s Aria?” he asked in his raspy, chain-smoker voice.

I pointed toward the master bedroom. “When you’re done with Aria, take a look at Gianna. I don’t think she’s seriously injured but I want to be sure.”

He gave a curt nod, not even slowing. Nobody wanted to make Luca wait.

“Call me before you go in. I want to be there when you check on Gianna.”

The Doc was over sixty but that didn’t mean I wanted him alone with Gianna, not after almost losing her.

He paused briefly, pale eyes settling on me. “She’s yours?”

“Yes.”

He nodded simply, then he continued toward the master bedroom. I turned and headed downstairs.

When I stepped into the basement, the two Russian survivors were tied to chairs. Tito, one of our best enforcers, leaned against one wall, his arms crossed. Romero stood beside him. Another soldier, Nino, attached a drip to the asshole I was going to tear apart. The other Russian was in slightly better shape and didn’t need a transfusion – yet. Once Tito got his hands on the poor bastard that would change too.

Tito straightened and inclined his head.

“I hope you didn’t start yet,” I said.