Alessandro de Rossi POVWhoever got to Dino, they also did some damage to his throat. I step forward, using my phone light, and see more thick bruising around his neck.I step back and look at Enzo. “Nico didn’t do all of this,” I murmur.Nico sent me the photos of when he found Dante, hiding in a ditch near our warehouses in Long Island.Now, I wonder if he was not hiding at all.I wonder if he had just not moved from where he was placed.Enzo shook his head. “I know. We can get him a medic later.”“Indeed,” I murmur.“So, both of you? Working together? Joemar’s going to shit himself,” Dante rasps.“Where the fuck is he?” Enzo growls.Dante shrugs, or attempts to. It looks like he may have a broken collarbone as well, from the grimace on his face. “No clue.”“You sold him out.”“I didn’t. Joemar dug his own grave, and he got exactly what he paid for,” Dante growls.The sentiment, the dislike, seems rather genuine. I file that away for later.I have other things that I wish to address
Alyssa Russo POV“And I will kill him regardless,” Alessandro spits at me.Dante, behind me, laughs. “See, Alyssa? No matter how many times he calls you amore, he’s still just a de Rossi. He’s a fucking monster. He didn’t even want to marry you for anything except to kidnap you.”I turn. “What?”Dante nods at Alessandro, who has gone stock still behind me. “He didn’t give a fuck about honoring that contract from our parents. He doesn’t want to be part of our family. He wanted to hurt us, Alyssa, and he knew that the only way to do that was to kidnap you and use you as leverage to hurt us.”“Dante,” I say, admonishing him. “How could you possibly know that?”He snorts, and a fleck of blood flies onto the concrete. “How could you possibly think otherwise? Don’t be a fucking idiot, sis.”I blink. “Are you calling me stupid?” “You are if you think a de Rossi would actually love you,” Dante spits.I shut my eyes.It’s not like I married Alessandro for any less savory reasons. There’s zero
lessandro de Rossi POVI do not sleep that night.Since Alyssa is not in our bed, I assume she is sleeping with Anne. I would check the room, but that seems to be an invasion of privacy.Instead, I roam the house, a bottle of whisky in my hands.Eventually, recognizing that sleep is unlikely for me, I settle on the library. I will at least be able to go over my emails and accounts, even if sleep cannot come to me.However, when I walk in the room, I realize something terrible. Amara is in my library.“Do you not have your own room?”She snorts. “You gave me my own wing of the house, Alessandro.”“Yes, my point exactly.”She eyes the bottle in my hands. “Can’t sleep?”“No. Would you like some?”Amara nods.I pour her an actual glass, and settle into the chair across from her. “Why can you not sleep?”“Torture sometimes keeps me up,” she says with a long sip.“Ah. Anything new?”She shakes her head. “He’s hiding something, but it doesn’t have to do with us.”“I see.”There’s a silen
Kenan MacDonald scoffs. “As if I’d tell you. Bitch Queen.”He straightens and puts his phone back in his pocket. “All’s I’m sayin’ is that should one of you assholes decide to be a hero, you’ll fuckin’ regret it. You’ll live to see everyone you want die,and I’ll laugh on your graves. Except yours.” He turns to point to me. “On your grave, I’ll fuck the wife I was promised.”With that, the Irish gang leader turns. He nods at the guards who still have their guns trained on him.And he walks out of my driveway. XXXAlyssa Russo POVI’m tied to a bed.It’s the only thing that I can recognize at the moment. I’m tied to a bed, my head hurts like the devil, and I’m wearing something that itches like crazy.I moan. “Jesus,” I mutter. “What happened?”“Good morning, beauty,” a voice with a lilting accent says.My eyes snap open.My head is pulsing with pain, and I grimace against it, but there’s a man at the edge of the bed.A man in a colorful shirt wearing pants with a tactical belt on it.
Alyssa Rusoo's POVI grab the knife slowly, hoping he’ll focus on where my breath is trailing over his chest, and not on the lightness at his side.It works.The knife is cold in my hand. It’s sharp too. I don’t really care about cutting myself on it, because if this goes the way that I want it to, a little cut is the least of my worries.Step three.Now, I need some room to maneuver.I need to get out from underneath him, because if I stab him from this angle, he’s going to be in a position to either fall on me or use his hands to strangle me.I tuck the knife underneath my back, arching my breasts up. His eyes glue to them, and I know that he can see my nipples through the thin fabric.My heart is pounding. I hope that he thinks it’s from excitement.And not from absolute and total terror.“If I need to forget… him,” I say, biting my lip and looking up at him through my lashes. “We should do something I never did with him.”His eyes flare with lust. “Oh? And what’s that then?”“I wa
Alessandro de Rossi POVThe smile Enzo has is genuine. “Just like I taught her.”“You taught Alyssa how to knife fight?” I ask quietly. I’m not shocked. I’ve met Alyssa, and while she is small, she is fierce.Especially when she is threatened.“Sure did,” Enzo says.I swear in Italian.Soon, the source of the noise appears. At the top of the substantial staircase on the landing to the second floor, the Irishman appears.Kenan MacDonald’s eyes are wild. He’s shirtless and bleeding, and by the looks of it, he’s been bleeding for quite some time.The blood is a dark, gelatinous color, and his face is pale enough that I have a suspicion he’s lost quite a lot of blood.“Where’s my wife, Irishman,” I snap.Kenan makes a noise like a bull. “You,” he snarls.He begins to run down the stairs.The simultaneous noise of three weapons being cocked echoes through the loud atrium, and he freezes midway down the steps.For the first time, it seems, he notices the people with me. “The fuck are you doi
I pant, arching against the sensation. With my hands tied together, all I can do is follow Alessandro’s lead. I’m at his mercy, and I’m going to go wherever he takes me.When I’m so close to the edge that I can feel it sparking across my stomach, he pulls back.I whine. “Alessandro…”“You will come around my cock,” he commands.His accent is so thick, it’s hard to tell the words he’s saying are in English.With my hands still bound, he strips. Naked, Alessandro hovers above me.I squeak as he puts his hands on my hips and moves me so that he’s underneath me, and I’m straddling him on top.He sits up, and I loop my bound wrists around his neck. He uses one hand to align us, and I gasp at the invasion of his thick length.“Alessandro,” I whisper.He grunts in return. “Move, Alyssa.”I obey.With my hands around his neck, I start to rock my hips. We’re sitting so we’re face to face, his cock sliding in and out of me where we’re joined, the tips of my breasts brushing his chest every time
I look at my twin. “Would you like to be told that you’re a parent?”“No,” she shakes her head. “But I’m not you.”I tilt my head. “What does that mean?”Amara sighs. “Alessandro, you’re basically built for this. You’ve always wanted to be a family man. More than anyone I’ve ever known.”I nod. I have been thinking of this as well. “Amara… if all goes well, I may want to spend some time with Anne and Alyssa. Would you… be willing to step in for me? Should that be the case?”Amara’s smile illuminates her face like a ray of sun. “I would be honored, brother.”Alyssa comes back to find me a few hours later. “We need to go to the doctor.”My heart feels like it’s in my throat and I nearly knock over a chair when I rise. “What’s wrong?”“Her fever. It’s up to 104, and there’s a rash on her chest.”“Is that bad?” I can feel the panic clawing at my chest. Is Anne going to be alright? I will call every doctor in the state. I turn and punch in the doctor’s number.“Alessandro.” Alyssa puts her
Reaching over, she touches the top of my hand. “I know. I appreciate it.” She glances out the glass doors, watching Cullen and Joemar on the terrace, and says, “I used to drink on race days.” When her eyes return to mine, her expression falls. “I struggled to let go of the image of the family I imagined I should have.”How does she see this going? I glance back at Joemar, silently worrying I’m crossing a line I shouldn’t without him. “That can be hard to reconcile.”“Don’t worry, it was reconciled a long time ago. Joemar and I are oil and water. Things are how they should be.” She leans in and whispers, “I’m so glad he found you. You saved his life.”This time I open my mouth, but then close it, thinking about what she said. I always thought he saved me, like on the red carpet. But when I look back over my shoulder, I think she might be right. Joemar didn’t care about anything but Cullen and his career.Now he has a life.I cross the imaginary line and give her a hug. She hesitates at
Madonna Saint Elise POVShrugging, I laugh so softly that I barely even hear it. “I don’t need much to make me happy. You and maybe a Tootsie Pop or some chocolate.”His grin extends, carving into his cheeks as his eyes stay steady on mine. “I’m going to give you the world, Madonna Saint Elise. I’ll buy you a whole candy shop just to see your smile.”“It’s not for me that I want it.” Too subtle?A roguish grin takes over, and his hands lower to my hips, pulling me on top of him. He’s already hard when he shifts my hips forward and back again over his length. “I’m going to spoil you rotten, my love.”The teasing gets the better of me, and I finally kiss him, briefly losing myself in the headiness of being together again. “Good thing I love to be spoiled.” Slipping lower, I take hold of his erection and add, “But I want to go first.” I spoil him with every ounce of my being, making love and making him come so hard, first with my mouth and then with my body. I take every inch of him and
I stare at her, wondering what that text exchange was about if she never wanted to see me again. Frustration sets in as she opens the car door. Still standing in the headlights of the car, I throw my arms out wide. “So that’s it, babe?”With one foot already in the car, she stops and looks at me over the door. “I didn’t wage this war, so it’s not mine to finish.”“But you’re in it.” I come closer. “You’re in the middle of this battle, so you have to fight it.”Both her feet land back on the street, her lips tightening as the fire is lit inside when she stands. “I don’t have to do anything. You didn’t just break my phone. You broke my heart, Jeomar. It’s up to you to fix it.”“I’m trying.”“Try harder.” She slams the door closed. “You think saying sorry is enough. It’s not. I can’t forgive you just because you’re ready to be back in my life. You shifted the blame to me under fears of . . .” Planting her hands on her hips, she says, “I have no idea. I don’t know what happened that day.
Jeomar Russo POV“What the . . .?”Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare at my phone and the message on the screen. My chest aches where my heart used to be, but I rarely feel it anymore even with adrenaline pumping through me.“What is it, Daddy?” Cullen whines, “This is boring.” I’ve heard that a few times over the past two weeks. It was nice to have him for an extended period, but I think he might be sick of his old man.I shove my phone in my back pocket because I can’t reply with my mind going in a million directions and my kid tugging on my hand. I try not to be on my phone as much when I’m with my son, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m imagining the message that just popped up. “It’s not boring. We walk to experience life instead of sitting in the back of a vehicle. Look around, Cullen. What do you see?”While he’s busy trying to spot one of a million differences from the last time we walked this route, I can’t help but wonder why now? Why would Madonna text me out
Madonna Saint Elise POVI rush back to my trailer, swinging the door wide open, and scramble to find the remote.Clicking the TV on, I search the channels until I find P1 racing. I have no idea if I’ve missed Joemar qualifying or if he stayed off the track this week like he should have.“Dumonte. Pace Set. Rogue Automotive.” I gasp when I see Saint Elise on the track. “Who’s in the driver’s seat? Come on. Come on.”“Had their reserve at the paddock this week . . .” The announcer rambles blah blah . . . “Quite the accident . . . lucky to be alive. Back in the saddle. He was cleared, but we’re about to see if he’s recovered.”I don’t know why my heart sinks other than knowing Joemar shouldn’t be out there. What are my brothers thinking?I sit on the couch with my legs tucked under me, clasping my hands together nervously. He was so worried about sitting out a race, but one mistake could cost him his career.“This is the end,” Carlos says, taking a seat on the top step.“We’ve been long
Joemar Russo POVI’m not sure in what—God, his recovery, or that things will work out how they should. I don’t question her because we all handle tragedies differently, but I want to taste that same faith that makes her eyes shine through the tears she’s holding back. “Have you heard anything?” I ask in a whisper, careful not to have Cullen overhear. I’m grasping for any news that will give me the same buoy to hold on to while still finding comfort in her touch.“He’s going to be okay, but they still don’t know the extent of the damage since they didn’t want to cut the layers of his clothes before reaching the hospital. They’re doing that now, separating the fibers from the burns.” Cullen wiggles at her side. She turns to me and says, “I’m going to find him a bathroom.”Cullen comes over and envelops me in his arms. I didn’t know I needed the embrace until I was wrapped in it. A stifled cry chokes me up, and the tears threatening to fall this whole time finally do. I turn into him, hu
Madonna Saint Elise POV“You left me to fend for myself, Lauren.”“I can have security in place by tonight, but you must take some responsibility. You went rogue by having Joemar Russo crash the red carpet like he did.”“I didn’t do anything but arrive like I was told. He showed up because he cared. He knew that I would be walking the carpet alone following Carlos’s engagement announcement.” Even her heavy breath sounds argumentative and rubs me wrong. “I was thrown to the wolves last night, but I’m not going to fight with you. We’re clearly at a crossroads.” Sitting in my trailer alone, I move the steamed zucchini around on my plate, but then stop and set the fork down.I can’t do this. I don’t want to be here.“We’re not. I’m team Madonna. You know I like a plan in place and for it to go smoothly. I apologize for not being there or having staff available for you. I will be there with you next time.”I’m not cold-hearted, but I am upset. I have no idea where we go from here. I just k
Tears fill my eyes, and with no time to find my sunglasses, they fall. A back door is opened and through watery vision, I squeeze through the chaos. The phone in my back pocket buzzes as I climb inside the car. I don’t even care if my suitcase makes it at this point. I tell the driver, “Go. Please go.”How do I go from one of the best nights of my life to dropping my head into my hands and crying?“Are you okay, miss?”“No. I’m not.” I turn to look outside, but something catches my attention in my periphery. I look at the driver again and see him handing me a box of tissues.He says, “I’m sorry. That was awful.”Taking the box, I stare at him. As awful as that was back there, here I’m being offered the kindness of a stranger. “Thank you.” This is what matters. Not people who make more money off upset celebrities or the paparazzi who make a living off provoking someone to capture their worst in a photo. “I appreciate it.”He nods, focusing his attention forward for the remainder of the
Joemar RussoPOVI have connections, so it wasn’t hard to snag a ticket. I’m hoping Madonna will be happy to see me. Everything we have could be ruined by a bad decision. This could be my worst of all time, and that’s an impressive list.Stepping out of the SUV, I straighten my jacket and button it. I don’t dig these events, but I’ve been to enough to know what to do. I’m guided forward to the press and start the game, answering questions and taking photos. The positive about not being announced until arrival is that no one is prepared to talk to you.The downside, they wing it. “The last time we saw you and Madonna Saint Elise to get her, you were holding hands in Miami.” The journalist holds the microphone under my nose and asks, “Are you here to support her as a friend, or is there more between the two of you?”I step back and reply, “She’s a brilliant actress. I’m here to support her and the movie.”Not really into the fame side of things, I start walking ahead until I hear someone