Since I don’t want another Mafia man to have me on his hit list, I say, “I’m sorry, Dario, but I can’t marry someone I don’t love.”
“We could learn to love each other.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Dario.”
“Vinny is known to always get what he wants,” Dario says, using a different angle. “He killed a man over a parking spot once.”
“I know,” I whisper.
I was there.
Men in the criminal world know how to pamper their women, but nothing outweighs their ruthlessness.
For our first anniversary, Vinny said he wanted to make it memorable. He bought me a diamond necklace from Tiffany’s, wined and dined me at L’ultima Cena, and booked us a penthouse suite at The Mark Hotel. Even though we’d had dessert at L’ultima Cena, I was craving my favorite ice cream from the shop by my apartment. He took me there and then shot someone over a parking spot.
It was the first time I’d seen Vinny kill someone. I knew what his job entailed but never witnessed him—or anyone—kill another man until that night. He told me not to tell anyone what happened, and I agreed. After that, Vinny decided I was trustworthy, which opened the floodgates of him telling me more.
That was when I should have run, but Vinny said that I could never leave him, or he’d go to hell and back to make sure I was brought back to him.
The mob life had always interested me, but I was smacked by the reality of it. All I’d seen before was Gigi’s life—the life Cristian had given her. She had the luxuries, the name, people feared her, and she was protected. I quickly learned that I wasn’t Gigi. I wasn’t a Mafia princess who’d be protected from these dangerous men.
Dario cuts the engine and sighs when we reach my apartment. “I’ll walk you up.”
I unbuckle my seat belt. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’ll check your apartment. Make sure everything is okay.”
Unlike his marriage proposal, this offer I don’t refuse. I nod, and we step out of the sedan.
My apartment is a duplex in Astoria. Monique, the seventy-year-old widowed neighbor, owns the building, and I’ve rented from her for the past two years. I stayed with Vinny most of the time when we were together, but when I moved back into my place after our breakup, he kept showing up at night. That was when I realized Vinny would make my life hell before allowing me to walk away from him entirely.
We walk along the side of the building and up the stairs that lead into my apartment. Dario is close at my back, his chest brushing along mine as I ease my keys from my purse. When I unlock the door and walk into my apartment, I don’t feel safe.
At least I have Dario behind me.
I stroll into the apartment and start hitting the lights.
“Natalia, baby.”
I stop dead, fear thrumming through my veins, and slowly turn to face Vinny in what seems like slow motion. My good-looking but callous ex will kill someone without blinking an eye—and that’s what the expression on his face screams he’s prepared to do.
Vinny blocks the door, a sadistic smile plastered on his lips, and from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, he slowly drags out a gun, a silencer connected to the end. His cold eyes creep up and down my body. “Cristian sent this joke to protect you?” His gaze flicks to Dario as he releases a mocking laugh. “How pathetic.”
Vinny’s words are said through clenched teeth. My heart races so hard that I’m waiting for it to fall to Vinny’s feet as we make eye contact. His eyes are a storm as he prepares to unleash his anger, and I’m terrified of how much damage he’ll cause. His breaths are so loud that I can hear them from across the room.
Vinny might be several steps down from Cristian, but Dario has nowhere near his smarts, stature, or degree of malice. Vinny and Cristian were born into their wicked bloodlines—the evil runs through their veins.
Dario steps forward to block Vinny from me. “I’m marrying Natalia, Vinny. You touch her, and you’ll start a war with everyone in the Marchetti family.”
Dario’s words ping straight off Vinny, as if he hadn’t even said them.
Vinny strokes his smooth-shaven chin. “If I touch her, huh?”
“Yes.” Dario straightens his stance, stupidly believing he can win this fight with someone who was forced to kill his first man at twelve to prove himself to his father.
“Leave,” Dario continues, “or Cristian will have your ass.”
My palms are sweaty as my gaze darts to every angle in my apartment for the best escape plan. It’s out the front door—go figure—so I’m pretty much fucked unless Vinny moves.
Vinny bitterly chuckles and looks at Dario. “Will Cristian care if I touch you?”
Without waiting for a response, Vinny shoots Dario in the head. I whimper, realizing I’ll meet an identical fate as Dario. Dario groans and collapses on the carpet, blood pouring from his skull. I nudge my foot against Dario’s body, muttering his name, but nothing.
“You disloyal fucking whore,” Vinny yells, stalking toward me.
I stagger backward, screaming at the top of my lungs in hopes of someone hearing, until my back meets the wall.
Vinny steps over Dario’s body as if it were nothing but a pile of dirty laundry.
“Vinny!” I cry out, holding up my hands. “Let me explain.”
I’m scrambling for words, fighting to keep my brain straight so he doesn’t shoot a bullet through it. Vinny’s large frame blocks any line of direction toward the front door, so it’d be impossible for me to run past him.
Think, Natalia. Think.
Outsmart the man.
“Explain what?” Vinny asks through gritted teeth before reaching out and wrapping his hand around my throat. “That you are a traitorous slut who needs to die?” His grip isn’t tight, so there’s no struggle for me to breathe or talk.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was scared.”
Spit flies from his mouth, hitting my chin, as he screams, “You thought you were scared then.”
“Please,” I plead, sticking my hand into my bag. “I wanted to talk to you, so I came back, knowing you’d be here, waiting for me.”
Vinny’s face twists with conflict.
The man is a psychopath, but he feeds on the pleasure of people begging him.
“Please,” I repeat, softening my voice.
“Natalia, you have no idea what you’ve done,” he bites out, running his thumb along a vein in my throat. The gun hangs from the fingers of his free hand. “What the consequences of your actions will be.”
Panic claws at me, and my next move will either save or kill me. “Please … release me, and I’ll go wherever you want. I’m done running.”
When he pulls back, I draw out the pepper spray from my purse, kick him in the balls, and spray the shit out of him. He stumbles back a step, and I dart away from him and start running.
“You bitch!” he shouts, covering his eyes with one hand.
He raises his other arm and starts shooting, blindly attempting to hit me. I flee from the apartment, sprinting to the sedan, and jump inside.
“Fuck!” I scream when I find the key isn’t in the ignition.
It’s with Dario.