Scandalous Prince (Mafia Royals 2)

My throat felt like it wasn’t working as we both dropped our hands to our sides, and then he was pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring us both small glasses. “I was going to kill you tonight.”

“That’s a fun story, please tell me more,” I said dryly.

His lips pressed into an amused smile. “The night’s still young.”

“Cheers.” I lifted my glass and clinked it against his, but we both knew, it was an empty threat. Now that we had shaken hands, he would die to protect me, and I would die to protect him.

It was the first time in my life, I realized, that I felt like the king I was, as I dusted off my dirty crown, and took my seat next to the powerful Abandonato line, no longer hiding in the crowd, but sitting on my deserved throne.

And damn if it didn’t feel good.

Chapter Thirty

Love feels like something inside of you is breaking at least ninety percent of the time, and the only ointment is usually the person that’s doing the breaking. —Valerian Petrov

Violet

I woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. My body was sore from Valerian, and for some reason, that brought a smile to my lips. In the bathroom, when I glimpsed myself in the mirror, I paused and studied my reflection. I looked… different.

My mouth was swollen, I had a few bruises on my hips from where he’d grabbed me, but they were light, and I liked that his hands had been on me, marking me, holding me, making me beg.

I shivered at the thought.

My brain was still a mess.

My heart was still trying to process everything.

But my body was ready for another round.

Talk about confusion.

I quickly dressed and made my way downstairs, ready to have the hard talk with my dad that I didn’t want to have but knew was necessary.

He was reading the paper, and it almost looked so normal I wanted to laugh; he was anything but normal.

Even sitting in a chair with his leg crossed, he was lethal.

He probably knew how many steps it took to get from the kitchen door to the bedroom and had at least a dozen weapons hidden by the cereal.

I remembered when I was a kindergartner finding a gun inside the Fruit Loops and frowning at what a shitty prize it was.

That… was a childhood in the Abandonato household.

“Dad?” I poured myself some coffee.

He slowly lowered the paper. His eyes were soft as he took me in, a small smile tugged at his lips. “You were up late.”

Kill me now. I slid down into a chair and then slid farther down as embarrassment washed over me. “Yeah, well… I noticed we’re out of bagels again.”

He choked on his coffee and rasped. “Touché.”

I clinked my coffee mug with his as we both grinned at each other.

“I have something to ask—” I frowned. He had a bandage wrapped around his hand. “Did you get hurt?”

“Merely a flesh wound.” He winked. “What did you need to ask, sweetheart?”

Ash chose that moment to bounce into the room, but he took one look at Dad and me and turned around.

“Sit,” Dad barked.

Ash sat as far away from us as possible, scowling. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was all messy on his head. He looked like he’d either had a ton of sex the night before or spent it drinking and trying to forget his demons. Maybe it was both.

I was instantly worried.

But we all mourned differently.

And I felt guilty that at least the love of my life was alive—different, but alive—and his wasn’t coming back. Not now, not ever.

“Violet.” Dad folded the paper and set it on the chair next to him. “What’s your question?”

I chewed my lower lip. “If I would have come to you, honestly come to you and told you I loved Breaker, would you have let us be together?”

“No.” His eyes softened. “Because Breaker Campisi could have never married Violet Abandonato and lived to tell about it. I wanted something better, someone better. I wanted you to choose, yes, but I didn’t want you to choose someone who couldn’t give you everything that you were born with, and while I know how privileged that sounds, remember, his past was a secret to all of us, a mystery, something that I couldn’t trust when it came to marrying you. Protecting you was one thing, being your friend another, but marrying you? I have to be completely honest; I still don’t know how I feel about it, but things are…” He released a sigh. “…different now.”

“Just because he has a different name?” I wondered.

“Not just that, but he…” Another sigh. “…he saved you, he saved me, Luc, Ariel—and he took his rightful place. He’s where he belongs, and I agree with him that you would have always been a target married to Breaker, and he would not have had the resources to adequately protect you. He would have most likely died young doing that. Now that he’s a boss—”