“I don’t know where Grigori or Anton is,” Boris cried. He was one of Grigori’s crew who’d been hiding in Harlem. One of Sandro’s soldiers tipped us off. His face was a map of bruises. Sandro had already done a number on him.


    We were in the basement of aundromat. Boris was tied to a chair and, besides the bruises on his body, he was missing a few fingernails. I hadn’t been the dispenser of hurt in an interrogation in a long time. Frequently I left it to my underboss, Sonny, to oversee, but this time he was staying in the background, letting me do the honors.


    Because this was personal. Very personal.


    “I could just turn you over to Kirill,” I told him and picked up the forceps to extract teeth.


    Boris’s lips lost color, which was a feat since he was bleeding and swollen like hell. “Don’t. I’m begging you.”


    “Why?” Because the bratva would be more ruthless than simply extracting teeth or fingernails. They’d probably put him on a torture rack and quarter him. “What can you offer me?”


    “Ask me anything except where they are because I really don’t know. They left me…”


    “What happened the night Anton threw the fed out the window? You were there, right?”


    “I already told Rossi.”


    I picked up the forceps again.


    “No, wait, wait…” he yelled. “Grigori wanted that redhead. That cleaner. That snitch working with that fed.”


    “Sloane.”


    “Yes…yes…boss wanted her.”


    “To sell?” I prodded even when the fury surged inside me.


    “Maybe. I don’t know. He wanted her unharmed, but she was being a pain in the ass.”


    My fingers tightened on the forceps. “Then what happened…” I asked as casually as possible, but I could feel Sonny straightening behind me.


    Boris was oblivious to the cold fury icing inside me. The man before me was already dead.


    The years I’d built up being the public face of the De Li crime family were a mere fa?ade. Inside me was a bloodthirsty killer. That mask slowly eroded and revealed the brutal man inside me. Luca once told me that the Morettis were part sociopath. We’d evolved over the years and were sessful in hiding it under a civilized skin.


    “I punched her in the stomach and…apparently that bitch was pregnant.”


    My breathing fractured as intense pressure formed behind my eyes andpressed my rib cage.


    “She miscarried?” The words came out t.


    “Yes! Grigori should be thankful I showed them what a whore she was. But what do I get?” He continued to rant, oblivious to the fact that I was calcting the many ways I was going to tear him apart.


    “A death sentence! Anton told me to run away because Grigori was going to kill me.”


    I lowered my head to within an inch of Boris’s nose, ignoring the smell of blood, piss, and fear. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head so that he was immobilized from looking away.


    “The whore you refer to happens to be the mother of my child.”


    “What?” he whispered, his pupils dting.


    I pushed through the wave of rage that flooded every sinew of muscle. “I didn’t know how she lost our baby that night.” My fingers tightened against his scalp. “Now I do.”


    He couldn’t look away as I plunged a knife into his gut and inched it up. His swollen eyes widening slightly in realization that I was his death sentence. That he’d just been eviscerated the same way his revtion was ripping me inside.


    He couldn’t look away even as blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.


    I couldn’t look away. The satisfaction of watching the life drain from his eyes burned through me, burned through the ice that unleashed into white-hot rage. But I wasn’t done. I repeatedly stabbed him, not blinking even when his blood sttered all over me.


    Later, a hot shower and a change of clothes erased the evidence of the carnage. Rage turned me into an animal, but I’d made the transformation back into a civilized member of society countless times, it had be second nature.


    Still, Sonny was waiting for me when I emerged from the bathroom.


    Because this time it was different. The rage was different. The satisfaction was personal. It wasn’t because of a job or extracting information. It was about revenge. I didn’t know how Sloane felt about mob justice. She’d seen it. She’d been around it. How would she feel if she knew I took a life for her? For us to have a chance, she had to ept this part of me.


    “You okay?”


    I nodded, jaw hardening. “I got one of the men who hurt Sloane.”


    “What do you want me to do with the body?”


    “Should we send a message to Kirill?” My mouth quirked. “We haven’t done this in a while.”


    We were the modern mafia, but it didn’t mean we couldn’t fall back into our ruthless, vicious roots if we needed to. We were Sicilians and the La Cosa Nostra, after all. If the bratva dered war on us, we weren’t backing down.


    “The feds are watching and not all of them are in our pocket.”


    I sighed. “Get rid of the body, then.”


    Boris was a low-level soldier and couldn’t lead us to Grigori or Anton, anyway. His purpose had been served.


    Sandro texted me.


    Sandro


    You done? The women are at Jabbin’ Java.


    “They’re pissing me off.” We were standing across the street from Jabbin’ Java. As an expert in stalking, Sandro showed me the best vantage point to keep tabs on the women.


    Except Bianca was an expert in Sandro’s stalking too, so she purposely led Sloane and Sera to the corner booth where I couldn’t see them. My cousin had the gall to send me a text with:


    Bianca


    Far from your prying eyes.


    Me


    Why you do me dirty, cuz?


    I humored the women. The feistiness of my cousins was a balm for my soul and helped me climb out of that basement of horrors where not an hour ago, I was judge, jury, and executioner.


    Sera


    We’re working on Sloane. Leave us alone.


    Not a chance until I see her.


    Sandro looked over my shoulder and snorted. “You’re pathetic,” he told me.


    “I’m pathetic?” I derided. “Might I remind you?—”


    “Yeah, yeah, I stalked Bianca for four years. What’s your point? Once I got my head outta my ass, she became my wife. I married her twice. You’ve gotten your head outta your ass for eight weeks and you’re still floundering. You’re getting hard to watch.”


    I leaned against the alley wall where both of us were lurking. “Got one of those fuckers, though,” I gritted. The smell of copper still lingered in my nose.


    Sandro nodded solemnly.


    “Anything else you got out of him?” I asked. “Did he give any indication he’s seen Grigori with Margo?”


    “No. But he thought Grigori was sick.”


    “What?” I kept my interactions with Grigori to a minimum because it was a challenge to keep my disdain from my face. Bute to think of it, thest time I saw him, his pallor was that of a vampire. Pale skin, bloodshot eyes. I attributed it to his lifestyle.


    “He’d get sick like he had the flu and disappear for a week or two, and when he returned, he’d be fine.”


    “Hmm…”


    “Sloane might have an assessment.”


    “I don’t want her thinking about that bastard.”


    “Are you going to tell her about Boris?”


    “Not yet.” I read the therapist’s notes. I’d seen her prescriptions. Everything hinged on whether this project was going to jump-start her enthusiasm for life. I couldn’t fix Sloane. Margo was right. Sloane needed to see that she was perfect for me on her own. I’d seen what depression could do to a loved one. I’d seen how Dad struggled. It was all about her self-esteem. Sloane protected her worth by setting limitations on herself. But I believed in my girl. She was as good as any heiress and deserved all the luxury and support I could give her.


    Thest thing Sloane needed was a reminder of her life under Grigori’s thumb. The man was responsible for her brother’s death. We hadn’t talked about her unexpected pregnancy. I didn’t know how she felt about it. I didn’t know how I felt about it other than I would have wanted that child and I was angry that she wasn’t given a choice whether to keep it or not.


    Sandro continued to keep me in broodingpany. Finally, my phone pinged.


    Bianca


    Sloane’s on board, and she epted the two cards. And I quote, “He’s gonna regret giving me his card.”


    A smile pulled at my mouth as I texted back.


    Me


    Tell her, bring it on.


    Sera


    She says you can quit lurking and join us.


    My heart hammered inside my chest and I swore I emitted a strangled sound as if I’d won the lottery.


    The sound might have been louder than I perceived because Sandro scoffed and repeated, “Pathetic.”


    I red at Sandro. “You know, sometimes I wished I’d left you floundering for a few days when Bianca’s dad and brothers didn’t want her to see you.” Not to mention Cesar wanting to draw up divorce papers. He’d had to run it by me because it involved rtions with another crime family.


    Sandro’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth ttened.


    A derisive huff escaped my lips. “What I thought.”


    Me


    Be right over


    I loped across the street, thinking Sandro would continue lurking. Sometimes, when the girls were together, their husbands weren’t far away. But he followed me.


    “What are you doing?” I asked.


    “Sloane’s like a sister to me,” he replied. “I’m making sure to keep you in line.”


    I stopped at the sidewalk in front of the café. “Keep me in line? She has free ess to my bank ount.”


    He shot me an evil smile and walked past me. “Then I’ll tell her how to spend your money.”


    “Don’t you have a crime family to run?”


    “Tommy can handle things for a while,” he replied. I followed him into the café. Renz was behind the counter and shot me a shit-eating grin. My situation was a novelty to them. I was the one who mediated their messes. Now they seemed to relish that I was flopping miserably in my attempts to win back Sloane.


    Not that I didn’t deserve it. Women were never a problem to me until they tried to pin a paternity suit on me. But the grief I felt when I found out Sloane had lost our baby sent me into profound reflection.


    She was the one I wanted to be the mother of my children.


    I wasn’t even looking, but fate had a cruel way of opening the blinders I’d had on all my life. The blinders I’d hid behind.


    It only took staring into Sloane’s beloved green eyes for me to realize how much I wanted her to be mine and mine alone.


    “Okay, this is hard to watch.” Sera’s embarrassedugh broke through my series of epiphanies. I had reached the back of the café and forgotten everyone else was around.


    But Sloane held my gaze captive, and I replied without looking at Sera. “I got it from here.”


    “We’re her ride,” Bianca interjected.


    “I’ll order one,” Sloane said, and then raised the ck card in her hand, “or order that SUV I wanted.”


    “I can take you to the dealership,” I said. “Or test drive?”


    “Or you can continue to be my driver,” Sloane returned sassily.


    I nodded, finally reaching their booth. “Or continue to be your driver.”


    “In this traffic?” Bianca cut in again. “Don’t you have boss things to do?”


    If only they knew where I’d been this morning. I red at my two cousins. “Don’t you two have somece to be?”<fnc491> Fresh chapters posted on fινdnοvel</fnc491>


    Sera nced at her watch. “Actually, Matteo said I need to take Gio because he has a board meeting.”


    Bianca stared at her phone. “Divina said Tommy is looking for you, Sandro, and asking why you’re not answering texts.”


    “Because I told him multiple times I hate texting and he should just call me.”


    “Get out of here, the lot of you,” I ordered.


    Renz appeared beside us and handed me an espresso. I slid into the space my cousins vacated.


    “Another cappino, Sloane?” Renz asked.


    “Oh God, no I’ve had enough.”


    While I consumed my espresso, the girls said goodbye. They exchanged hugs, and an ache tugged in my chest.


    Sloane belonged with my family. I just didn’t know how to bring her in and be mine. Remembering what Margo had told me made me realize the mountain of Sloane’s past trauma I had to climb. If only the matchmaker would give me a name.


    The security to herwork was top-notch. When Trevor tried to hack into their system and was repelled, Margo sent me a warning text. Of course I didn’t admit it was us, and I wasn’t desperate enough to ask Natalya for help because I had no doubt she would seed.


    After Sloane slid back into the booth in front of me, she said, “You don’t have to deny you had a hand in orchestrating this Delphine project.”


    “I’m not gonna deny it, but it was a team effort,” I replied. “We identified a problem shared across our crime families and saw an opportunity to address it.”


    She grinned. “I heard Luca was skeptical.”


    “That’s his nature. He doesn’t know you, and he wanted to make sure that emotions did not influence us, but logic.”


    “Are you certain that?—”


    “It’s not guilt,” I said firmly. “Not with this.”


    “My eptance of this project doesn’t mean I’m open to a rtionship with you.”


    It took an effort to hold her gaze when her words deted the hope in my chest. Funny how I didn’t have a problem watching the light fade from a vermin’s eyes, but knowing that I struggled to do that with Sloane proved I was not lost to the vicious side of my nature. “I understand.”


    She gave a series of nods and rolled her lips. Those luscious lips that I hadn’t kissed in weeks.


    An awkward silence nketed the space between us, but I wasn’t simply going to tuck tail and not be the man she knew me to be. “I understand,” I repeated. “But also understand that I’m not a man who gives up easily.”


    Her eyes red.


    Yeah, she liked that.


    “Weeks, months, years—I’m going to wait.”


    “Years?” She raised a brow. “That’s a long time to wait.”


    “I’m a De Li and a Moretti.” I shrugged. “Once we’ve decided on the woman we want, we don’t back down.”


    She grabbed the folder and started flipping through the pages. As for me, I was contented just staring at her. I was the dumbass who let this beautiful woman slip through my fingers because I was a coward. In a way, I didn’t want to share her with others in my circle. But this? This was a start.


    She stared at my espresso cup. “I’m ready to head back to the penthouse. It’s been a long…strange day.” Sloane gave a lightugh. That huskyugh. Fuck. My dick chose that time to wake up. I was d I was in a suit so I could hide my erection.


    “I’m ready.”


    After we picked up Ginger from Renz’s apartment, we spent the drive back to the penthouse in silence. Sloane was busy flicking through the project proposal, while I was busy sneaking nces at her. The penthouse wasn’t that far away, less than a ten-minute drive in normal Manhattan traffic. And for the first time in my life, I wished it would take me thirty minutes to get there just so I could spend more time with her.


    Although…I could be opportunistic.


    So when the building came up and I had to make the choice between turning to the garage and the building’s entrance, I said, “I’ming up with you.”


    “Dom, you can just drop me off in the front.”


    “I need a couple of items from my room.”


    She blew out a breath in a way that told me she didn’t believe me, but was resigned. “Okay.”


    After I parked, we walked to the elevators designated for the upper floors.


    “You should just move back in,” she said. “I can rent an apartment somewhere. Maybe in New Jersey.”


    I swiped my card and leaned against the wall while the car zoomed up. “I want you in Manhattan.”


    “Why? Delphine is in New Jersey. It makes more sense for me to live there. Are there still threats?”


    “Not from the Zahkarov bratva.” Although one could never tell with Kirill in charge.


    “Grigori and his crew, then. I’m a witness to their crime.”


    Kirill made it clear that Grigori was theirs to deal with and I told him, not if we found him first. Well, we found Boris first. Now we need to find the rest of his crew, especially Anton.


    The doors to the elevators opened to the foyer leading to my penthouse. The initial design of the entrance hall opened straight to the dedicated upper-floor elevators, but it didn’t sit well with me for obvious reasons despite the security to its programming. Anything could be hacked. As don, I had enemies who wanted to kill me.


    Tastefully designed curved steps led to a bulletproof double door. With Sloane living here, I wished I’d had it built for fucking explosives.


    But I wasn’t prepared for the grenade waiting for us inside the penthouse.


    My mother.