First Comes Blood by Lilith Vincent

2

Salvatore

“You want me to marry one of these men?”

Chiara Romano’s beautiful face drains of color. I’m glad we’re here when she first hears what her father wants. You can tell a lot from a person from how they handle a surprise.

Or in her case, a shock.

Her hands are clenched in her lap and her eyes are round. She’s petite, almost doll-like with her long lashes and honey-gold hair. The diamonds in her ears and the tiara in her hair set off her fresh-faced beauty. Those lips of hers, though, they’re something else. Lush and sweet and receptive to kisses. I wonder what else that mouth can do.

I glance at the others, and realize they’re wondering the same thing. How much fun will Miss Romano be on her wedding night? We like a girl who will fight back.

Mayor Romano glowers at his daughter. “Yes, Chiara. Did I not just spell it out for you? One of these men will be your husband. After tonight, you can consider yourself promised. When you marry in a year and a week, you’ll leave this house and start a new life with your husband.”

I gaze at my future bride over my wine glass, expecting the flood of tears to begin. I can’t have a woman who’s going to fall apart when she gets a fright. Cassius and Lorenzo enjoy a woman’s tears, but if my wife cries, I’ll have to beat it out of her.

Chiara’s eyes are dry. “But why? This is like something out of the dark ages.”

I put my wine glass down and lean forward. “It was kind of your parents to spare you from the truth for so long. Kind, but misguided. You were never going to have a choice, Chiara. People like us don’t marry for love. We marry for power.”

She turns her baby blue eyes on me, and her expression flickers with fear. Chiara Romano needs a better poker face. But that’s all right. I’ll teach her.

“People like us? But my family isn’t like yours. We’re not criminals.”

On my left, Vinicius pretends to wince at her choice of words. “Please. We prefer the term entrepreneur.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cassius raps out. “I’m a businessman. These are my associates. I don’t like your attitude, young lady.”

Chiara breathes in sharply, as if Cassius’ words have hit her like a whip. If she’s already afraid, she won’t like what he’ll do to her as her husband.

Mayor Romano seems to feel like he’s losing control of the conversation and raises his voice. “Where do you think the money comes from to put this roof over your head? Pay for that expensive school of yours? All your pretty clothes?”

“Your job as mayor.”

Vinicius laughs. Cassius shakes his head with his brow furrowed. Lorenzo stares at Chiara with cold, hooded eyes. Opposite her husband, Mrs. Romano seems to have fled into the far reaches of her mind. I wonder if Chiara is like that. Weak and fragile.

We’ll know by midnight. Each of us has a little present prepared for Miss Romano. If she breaks, then we walk away. Our world isn’t for the weak.

“No, sweetheart.” Mayor Romano’s voice drips with condescension. “It’s from the deals I make. The deals that keep this city thriving—with the help of these men, of course.”

Lorenzo turns to gaze at the mayor and starts flipping his knife again. No one likes to be talked about like they’re an afterthought, especially not us.

“You’re going to be an important part of a deal with one of these men.”

Vinicius touches the tip of his tongue to one of his pointed canines. “Just one of us? Can’t we all have her?”

Cassius’ eyes flare with interest. Lorenzo draws his thumbnail over his lower lip and gazes at Chiara like he’s imagining something dark and dirty.

My smile widens. “Yes. Why don’t we share her?”

Chiara’s eyes couldn’t hold any more confusion. Poor little lamb. I don’t think she’s ever been kissed before tonight, let alone imagined what four men at once could do with her. Only one of us can marry her, but we’ll all share her, and show her what our world is really about.

The four of us. Brothers, in every way but blood.

The Mayor’s lip curls. “I only have one daughter. I can only have one son-in-law.”

I swirl my wine lazily in my glass and address my future wife. “One thing you should know. You won’t ever come between the four of us. Nothing can alter our bond.”

The tiniest of smirks flits across Romano’s face and is gone. The mayor thinks he can use his daughter to drive a wedge between us. United, the four of us are stronger than he is. Divided, he can play us off against each other.

Chiara noticed her father’s smirk. She regards me, and then all four of us, her gaze finally coming to rest on Lorenzo.

Her expression asks, Your bond? Even with him?

“Yes. Even this crazy asshole,” Cassius growls, jerking his head at the blond man next to him.

Mrs. Romano sits up and clears her throat. “That’s all very interesting, gentlemen. But I think you’re forgetting one thing. This is Chiara’s choice.”

The mayor opens his mouth to contradict her, but I’m tired of hearing his voice. I want to speak to my bride. “All right, then. Who among us would you choose, Chiara? Which of us is your future husband?”

Vinicius casts me a smile and smooths his tie. He knows that for any sane girl the choice is between him and me, and he’s better looking.

But looks are the least of what’s important. I’m the smart choice. The only choice. I’ll have her no matter who gets her in the end, but I want my name on that dotted line.

I wait, eyebrows raised.

“What? You want me to choose now?”

I want to hear who she would choose. It won’t be up to her, but I’d like to hear her say my name before the inevitable happens. It will make the whole business of marrying her less tearful and irritating if she doesn’t need to be forced.

The silence around the table stretches. The ticking of the clock on the wall fills the room.

“I won’t.” Chiara whispers so softly that her lips barely move. She’s staring straight ahead at us.

She dares defy us.

“Answer the question, Chiara,” says Mayor Romano.

My eyes narrow. The only place a woman should put up a fight is in the bedroom. When she’s ordered to do something, she needs to obey without question.

Chiara stands up, her chair scraping on the floor. Her face is flickering with powerful emotions. Without another word, she hurries from the room, her head down.

Mayor Romano starts to get to his feet, but I stand up first, buttoning my jacket. “I’ll talk to her. She just needs some persuading.”

I catch Vinicius’ amused expression and Cassius’ smirk. What? I can seem nice. Of the four of us, I’m the most convincing in that department, assuming the charade doesn’t get dragged out and my patience worn through. Lorenzo twists his knife over his tattooed knuckles, and his eyes burn in the candlelight. His intent is clear. If I don’t bring her to heel, he will.

The house is built around a central courtyard with a huge swimming pool lit up in the darkness. It’s a mansion fit for a Hollywood movie star or Wall Street financier. A mayor shouldn’t be able to afford this. It’s almost as palatial as my own house, which should send alarm bells ringing among Mayor Romano’s constituents, considering my fortune has been built on spilled blood.

I find Chiara in a sitting room, the doors pulled back to let in the warm evening air. The room is dark, but she’s luminous in her white dress. She has her back to me, head down, small fists clenched.

Silently, I come up behind her and stroke my fingers across her bare shoulders. Her skin is warm and smooth and feels electric against my own. “You ran out on your dinner guests, Chiara.”

It takes all my self-control not to slide my hand around her throat and squeeze until she understands never to do such a thing again.

She turns to face me with a gasp, her eyes are huge and troubled. “I wish you’d all leave, please. There’s been a misunderstanding.”

A little child, hiding under her blankets and hoping the monsters will go away. My smile widens. “But I’ve got a present for you.”

Chiara closes her mouth and swallows. “If it’s another kiss I don’t want it.”

No? She might fear me, she might fear us, but she responded the moment I kissed her. Fear and desire twined together. It’s an intoxicating blend.

I step toward her, enjoying how she steps back. This girl is going to make me fight for every inch of her body. I can’t wait.

I take a flat velvet box out of my pocket and open it, revealing the diamond necklace within. It catches the light and sparkles enticingly.

She turns her face away. “No, thank you.”

“It’s your birthday present. I bought it especially for you.” Bought it. Took it from Vinicius as my cut from his last heist. He posed as the pilot of a billionaire’s private plane and held everyone at gunpoint on a remote Venezuelan runway. He needed my international contacts to pay off the airport authorities, and so I got the necklace. I had to wash the blood off, first.

“If I accept your present, I’ll be in your debt like my father is. That’s it, isn’t it? He owes you money and that’s why all this is happening.”

“If your father owed me money, I’d be coming for his blood, not his daughter, and I’d be brandishing guns, not diamond necklaces.”

I move behind Chiara, drape the necklace around her neck and stroke her hair aside. My lips close to her ear, I whisper, “You have a lot to learn about the way the world works. When you marry me, I’ll teach you.”

I fasten the tiny clasp and admire the way the diamonds sparkle against her skin. Chiara has a beautiful, slender throat, and as I lean over her I want to run my tongue over her delicate skin and feel her pulse beating wildly. I imagine her face down on black sheets, naked except for this diamond necklace and completely at my mercy.

“I don’t want anything from you. I don’t want to be in your debt. I feel like you’ll ask for things I won’t want to give you.”

“But I ask for so little.” Just your body and soul. Your cries for mercy. Your total obedience and your life in my hands, forever.

Her fingers reach up to touch the diamonds around her throat. “What is it you do want?”

I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her to face me. “You.”

Confusion flickers in those beautiful eyes, and her lower lip softens. I ache to lean down and nip it with my teeth.

“I’ve heard so many despicable things about you. Who are you really?”

“I’m a businessman. I own hotels. I run casinos.” I stand behind her and point at three gleaming skyscrapers, just visible over the roof of her house. “That one’s mine, and the two on either side, among many others.”

My lips skim the shell of her ear as I talk, and I feel her shiver beneath my fingers.

“That’s only part of the truth, isn’t it?” she whispers.

“Clever girl. Shall I tell you the truth?”

She nods, still looking up at the glimmering buildings.

I slide my arm around her waist and pull her back against my chest. She stiffens and clutches my arm. “I win, at any cost. What I set my mind on, I get, including you, Chiara.”

“I’m not a skyscraper, or my father. I can’t be bought with promises and diamonds.”

My composure cracks at her defiance. If she were looking into my eyes, she’d be backing away in fear right now. I stroke the diamonds around her neck and keep my voice soft. “No? And yet here you are, in my arms, wearing my diamonds.”

“I’ll take them off the second you’re gone and throw them away.”

Heat ripples through my muscles. She’s just crossed the line from naïve to disrespectful. My hand drifts higher, stroking her throat. “You think you’re not in danger in this house because your father’s close by and it’s your birthday. I gave you diamonds. I’m being nice. You’ve forgotten your manners, Chiara.”

I grip her throat and squeeze. Her eyes fly open and she grabs my wrist with both hands. Her body flails but I have her clenched tight against me.

Trapped.

Teeth bared, I growl in her ear, “I’ll help you remember them. You don’t talk back to me. You don’t treat what I give you like dirt. I can get to you whenever I want. I can hurt you. I can hurt your mother. I can do whatever the fuck I want in this town, and no one, least of all your father, can stop me.”

Chiara gives a strangled whimper, her heels hitting my shins.

“Don’t let that pretty mouth of yours put a bullet in your head.” I watch her as she struggles, her movements becoming more and more frantic. If she has any sense, she’ll only have to hear this once. Finally, I release her and shove her away from me.

Chiara’s hand flies to her throat as she doubles over, gasping for breath. I straighten my jacket and smooth my hair. I think she’s learned her lesson.

“I can be your friend, or your worst nightmare. Happy birthday, Chiara.”