Bound by the Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 7)

Val had baked a cake for Anna’s eleventh birthday and held a small celebration that felt more like a funeral.

Every smile was fake, every laugh forced.

We tried our hand at pretend happiness. It tasted fake, bitter.

Anna blew out her eleven candles, her eyes closed tightly. I knew what her wish was even without her revealing it. She hoped things would go well tomorrow, that we’d all return with Serafina. It was my greatest wish as well. Many things hinged on the outcome of the exchange, most importantly the happiness of my family.

Samuel looked off into space, torn between hope and worry. Remo had agreed to an exchange tomorrow evening. Danilo, Pietro, and I would leave early in the morning to take Rocco to Las Vegas. Santino and Arturo had brought him to Minneapolis a few hours ago.

Anna smiled when she unpacked the painting utensils Val had gotten for her. We all ate cake afterward, trying to maintain meaningless conversation but it was impossible to overcome the tension.

I felt sorry for Anna. She always loved celebrating her birthday but today her special day had been ruined by the consequences of my choices. I promised myself that this would never happen again.

We all went to bed early but sleep didn’t come. Not for me, nor for Val. She clung to me in the dark, her body tight with anxiety. “I’m so scared that this is a trap. Going to Vegas is madness, you know it. Remo could plan to kill you all.”

“He could, but I doubt it. He’ll kill us later, after we’ve suffered for a while.”

“Suffered?”

“Under the weight of our guilt.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

“Yes. And seeing Serafina, we’ll all be reminded of how we failed her. Pietro, Samuel, Danilo and especially me.”

Val breathed out. “I can’t live without you, Dante. Don’t let rage consume you tomorrow. Don’t risk anything.”

My wrath for Remo was close to untamable. I wanted to see him on his knees, begging for mercy. Tomorrow wouldn’t be that day. But eventually…

I kissed Val and slipped my fingers between her smooth thighs, wanting to feel her warmth, wanting to feel alive. I didn’t want to talk, not about all the ways this could go wrong.

Our kiss was slow and my fingers were too. I wasn’t overcome with lust. I didn’t even want to come myself. I only needed to make Val feel good, needed to lose myself in her heat and moans.

She parted her legs for me and I stroked her lightly, occasionally dipping my fingers into her. It took a long time for her to loosen up, to allow pleasure. When she finally came, I closed my eyes, my lips against her pulse-point. I gently pumped my fingers into her. “I love you, Val. I’ll protect you and our family until I die.”

“Not tomorrow,” she got out.

“Not tomorrow,” I promised.Santino heaved Rocco into the helicopter. We’d travel most of the distance to Las Vegas like that, only the last part from an airport near Vegas to our meeting point with a rental car.

We barely spoke during our journey. We’d gone over everything in the morning. Every additional word would only increase our tension.

Danilo and I lifted Rocco out of the trunk of the car when we arrived at the designated meeting spot thirty minutes before the agreed time. I scanned our surroundings but couldn’t spot any snipers on the surrounding rooftops. Rocco’s desperate eyes caught mine and he struggled against his bindings, trying to speak despite the tape over his mouth. We dropped him on the ground then waited. Dry heat greeted us and sweat trickled down my back under the thick layers of my suit.

Danilo regarded Rocco with disgust but Rocco’s eyes were on me, still hoping I’d change my mind.

Pietro stopped beside me, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. It was much warmer in Vegas than it had been back in Minneapolis. “Fuck. I’m fucking scared to see Fina…”

Danilo’s mouth tightened and he glanced down at the ground.

“She’ll be safe soon,” I said firmly.

“I hate to be exposed like this, without pulled guns no less,” Danilo said after a few minutes of silence.

I, too, had trouble making myself this vulnerable in enemy territory, but I didn’t think Remo would shoot at us. That wasn’t his endgame, not today.

A car approached then stopped about one hundred yards away. Movement up on one of the surrounding buildings caught my attention. A sniper pointed a gun at us.

Danilo’s hand darted toward his holster.

“No,” I clipped.

Danilo reluctantly pulled his hand back and lowered his gaze from the roof, then his eyes went wide.

I followed his gaze toward the car and my muscles tensed when Remo Falcone got out with Serafina. She was dressed in her ripped and bloody wedding dress. A moment later, Fabiano got out as well, a gun aimed at us.