Vengeful Mafia Prince (Vicious Heirs #2)

Chapter Nineteen—Elena

Branches snatch at my hair, and I nearly trip over the gnarled root of a tree sticking out from under the earth. It's getting dark, and the light that might have filtered through the branches is beginning to fade away. I'm going to get myself lost in here, if I'm not careful.

But that seems better than facing the other option, what my father wants to do to me. What he wants to do to Giovanni, more importantly.

Kill him in front of me.

That's what he said he was going to do. He was going to kill Gio in front of me and then let me make my choice. I could either go be with him in death, or I could come back to the family with no distractions.

I don't know what I'm planning on doing, running off into the woods like this. I've convinced myself that if I'm not there, he'll have no reason to kill Gio. He'll let him walk away from this in one piece, and that's all I care about right now.

Because I love him. I do. I love him.

I can't believe I actually said those words out loud to him, but now, I can see that they're true. I love this man, and I can't stand to let anything happen to him, even if it means giving up my own safety in the process.

My breath is tearing out of my lungs, scratching up my throat, as I finally come to a halt somewhere deep inside the forest. I don't know where I am. I want to call out, but I know my father will be right behind me. I continue moving, forcing myself onward, stumbling slightly over a couple of roots and trying to find some place I can safely rest.

After a few moments, I manage to come across a clearing. It's not much, but it's something other than the oppressive thicket of trees that has been pressed around me all this time. I sink down onto the edge of a large rock next to a clear pond and gasp for air, planting a hand on my chest, trying to still the rush of adrenaline that is still coursing around my system.

I need to get out of here. I need to find Gio and leave, but I don't see how I can, not without putting him firmly in harm's way once more. As long as he's with me, my father will make him a target. He's made that much obvious, and God knows his family has already been harmed enough by mine over the years as it is.

Even as I sit here, I can hear footsteps. I spring to my feet once more, ready to run, but a second later, Gio emerges into the clearing, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Oh God, what are you doing here?" I demand as I sink into his arms. I don't want him anywhere but by my side, and yet, I know he's risking so much just spending another moment here with me.

"Come on," he tells me. "Remember what I said? We can get out, we can start over. All of this, it's going to be behind us before you know it, and you won't have to—"

"Not if I have anything to do with it."

Both of us spin around, and in horror, I realize my father has tracked us to our hiding place. Giovanni pulls me closer against him, pressing me into his chest, and I cling to him for dear life.

My father has a gun in his hand. He's not pointing it at us—not yet, anyway—but it's clear it's only a matter of time till one or both of us end up on the wrong end of that thing.

"Please, Dad, just let us go," I beg him. "We won't cause you anymore trouble. We'll be gone before you know it. You—"

"I can't do that, Elena," he tells me, his voice eerily calm. Has he been prepared for this possibility all along, the possibility that one of his own might turn against him? And when that moment came, was he always going to be there to take the shot and take us out? How long have I been in this kind of danger, facing off against what he's willing to do to me if I don't do as he pleases?

"Has she told you yet, Giovanni?" he asks. "What I'm going to do to you unless you back the fuck off my daughter?"

"I don't care. I'm not going anywhere."

My father lets out a slight laugh, though it's mirthless. "That's sweet. But you might think better of it soon."

He raises the gun and points it at Giovanni. I cry out, trying to move in front of him, but he pushes me behind him.

"You think I can't take what you're threatening?" Gio's voice cracks as he yells the words at my father. "You think I can't handle it, after everything I've already lost? After what you did to my family, to my parents? You left me and my sister with nothing! We have nothing but each other now, and she hates me too, so—"

"Can't say I blame her," he cuts him off calmly. "After the way you've been acting, I doubt anyone would want to put their faith in you."

I grab his hand. I'm still behind him, and I'm distinctly aware of how fast the time is ticking down, how soon it's going to run out entirely. And when it does, he's going to be on the wrong end of my father's gun.

"I didn't know much about your parents, Giovanni," he continues, steadying the gun. "But I'd wager a bet that they hated traitors as much as I did. Hell, if they found out what you were doing with my daughter, they probably would have been glad if I put a bullet in your brain."

"They're nothing like you."

My father grins. He looks like a shark cutting through the water, closing in on its prey.

"I don't think it matters one little bit what they were like," he reasons. "Given that they're not here anymore anyway. And hey, soon enough, you'll be joining them."

The world slows for a moment as he narrows his eyes and presses his finger down on the trigger.

No!

I can't let this happen. I can't lose him. I know it might cost me everything, but I push Giovanni out of the way just as the sound of the bullet leaving the chamber fills the air around us.

I feel it graze my neck, and I let out a shriek of pain and drop to the ground. Reaching up to touch the wound, I find my fingers coated in blood. I turn to Giovanni, but he's already scrambling back to his feet, reaching for his own weapon.

"You're never going to lay a fucking hand on her again!" he yells. And with that, he pulls the trigger and shoots my father point-blank in the chest.

I scream again, but I can hardly hear it through the ringing in my ears. The sight of this nightmare unfolding in front of me, it's like something from a twisted fairytale—Giovanni, the gun in his hand, staring my father down as he drops to his knees, blood trickling from his mouth.

I want to run to my father, but at the same time, something repulses me. He's shown who he really is to me, and that man, that version of him—I hate to say it, but he's better off...

Dead.

He slumps to the ground, the life leaking from his body, and I fully collapse onto the soft forest floor.

A moment later, I feel Giovanni beside me, his arms around me, pulling me against him.

"Are you okay?" he demands, his voice coming out with a rasp. "Were you hit? Let me see."

He pushes the hair away from my face so he can get a better look at the wound on my neck. It's nothing, really, but the dull throb of pain is the only thing that's keeping me in his arms right now and not spinning off into this nightmare once and for all.

"I need to get that cleaned up. Come on, Elena."

He tries to pull me to my feet, but I'm a deadweight. I can't stop staring at my father's body, dead, on the ground before me. It doesn't feel real. None of this does.

I allow Giovanni to lead me out of the forest, to the car waiting beyond. Inside, he has a small first-aid kit, and he quickly sets about taking care of me as I sit there in silence. I want to say something, but how am I supposed to put any of this into words? How am I meant to respond, after what has just happened?

Finally, once he's applied a bandage to the wound, he brushes my hair back over my shoulder and locks his eyes on to mine.

"I'm sorry, Elena."

When he speaks, I can't hold back the tears any longer. I sob like I've never sobbed before in my life, my whole body shaking at once. My father is dead. My father is dead, and it's my fault. But worse than that, he's caused the deaths of so many other people, including Giovanni's parents. I can't believe how it's happened, I can't trace this path from beginning to end in any way that makes sense.

I've lost him, I've lost everything.

Except I still have the man sitting next to me in the car right now. And in this moment, he seems like the only thing that matters.

He doesn't reach over to hold me, likely guessing that I can't handle his touch after what's just gone down. But finally, I manage to pull myself together long enough to look him in the eye again.

"Are you... okay?" he asks. It's a simple question, but in this context, it's so enormous that I don't know where to start.

"No, I'm not okay," I reply. "Can we... can we get out of here?"

"Yeah, of course. Probably not going to be too long till your father's men come looking for him, anyway."

He's right about that. Truthfully, I can't figure out why my father would have come out here all on his own in the first place. It seems like an obvious risk, confronting us in the middle of nowhere like this. But maybe...

Maybe it's because he thought, as his daughter, there was no way I would have done anything to hurt him. A shudder runs down my spine.

He trusted me.

And he was going to kill me. And Giovanni. That's the part I have to remember. He would have destroyed us without a second thought. That man, he's not my father, he's not my family. He's just another killer, another murderer who would have done anything to make sure he didn't lose what he felt was rightfully his.

We drive through the city in silence. I want to say something, but I don't even know where to start. How do I tell him that I'm... grateful, despite everything? That even though he killed my father in front of me, I'm glad that he's still here? That I love him and I want him even in the face of all this madness?

Eventually, we pull up outside a handsome townhouse, and it strikes me that this must have been where his family lived. So far, I've only ever seen him at his apartment, like he's been trying to keep some part of himself separate from me. But he's showing me everything now, and there's an intimacy to it that I can't deny.

I hang back, though, before I get out of the car.

"Will Valentina be there?" I ask nervously. I really don't feel like having another conversation with his sister, not after the way everything has been going.

He shakes his head. "Not right now," he assures me. "You're in the clear, trust me."

He takes my hand and leads me to the townhouse, unlocking the door so we can step in. The first thing I see, sitting on a small table to the side of the hall, is a framed picture of Giovanni and his sister, along with two people who must be their parents.

I pick it up, staring down at it for a long moment as I try to take it in.

"These are...?"

"That's my family, yeah," he replies, his voice slightly tight. I can tell it still hurts to live without them, to even be reminded of them like this, but he doesn't try to shut me down or pull away.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "We don't have to talk about them, if you don't want. I just..." Tears fill my eyes again. "I just can't help but wonder what it's going to be like, living without my dad."

He pulls me into his arms again, and I sink against him, heaving in long helpless breaths as I try to bring myself back from the brink. It feels as though the truth of this is hitting me over and over again, the weight of it nearly more than I can take. My dad, gone—the one family I had, vanished. I can't believe it.

"I'm sorry, Elena, I'm so sorry," he murmurs to me, over and over again. "I'm sorry. If there was any other way, I could have done it, I would, but..."

I finally manage to draw my head back, long enough to look him in the eyes and speak with some level of certainty.

"You did... you did the right thing," I breathe. "He was going to kill you. And me. There was no way he was going to let either of us walk out of there alive, and I just... I could never have lived with myself if something had happened to you, Gio..."

"I know, I know. That's exactly how I felt, too. I just... I couldn't stand to lose you. In that moment, when I saw the bullet skim you, I just knew I would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant..."

He doesn't need to say that last part. We both already know it.

I reach up and cup his face in my hands. I can't get over how deeply I care for him. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, a certainty that takes over everything else in my life, pushes it to the side so there's only room for him.

"I meant what I said back there," I tell him softly. "That I love you, I mean."

He smiles slightly. "I know you did. And I love you, too, Elena."

He kisses me softly. I can feel him shaking slightly, the adrenaline from everything that has happened starting to wear off. Wrapping my arms around him, I press my head into his shoulder, trying to just lose myself to this a little longer. I know that it's not going to be long till the reality of the world beyond comes flooding in to catch up with us, but here, now, it can just be us.

He kisses me again, and this time, there's more heat to his touch, a need that speaks to how much we've been through, how much the two of us have survived together. And I need it. God, I need it. I need to let myself get lost to him, no matter what the cost. I need to let myself be consumed by the two of us together, like nothing else matters in the world.

He scoops me into his arms and carries me toward the bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a moment. With my hands in his hair, he lays me down on the bed, careful, tender. My hips rise to meet his almost on instinct, asking for more, asking for him, showing him that no matter what has happened between us, we still belong together, like this.

In love.

He strips me slowly, taking his time to undress me completely so he can gorge himself on every inch of my skin. I can't get over how good it feels, his touch, even after all this time, after all these doubts and questions, after all this wondering if he can really mean everything he says about me, and now, I can just give myself over to him like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's proved to me, once and for all, that he's on my side, and I need to show him that I'm entirely on his.

He pulls his shirt off over his head, and I reach for him, pulling him down on top of me. I can feel the strength of his chest pressed against me, the pressure of it grounding me, the thud of his heartbeat from deep inside him soothing me. He kisses me once more and kicks off his pants as he does so, tangling our legs so that the two of us are pressed together completely.

I can feel the hardness of his cock nestled against my hip crease, so close to sliding inside me that all I really need to do is shift slightly and he'll be filling me completely. And right now, that's all I want.

I hook my legs around him, my ankles resting on the back of his calves, and lift my hips so that the two of us are pressed together nearly flush. He takes the cue, guiding himself inside of me for the first time, and my head sinks back onto the pillow in total pleasure as he fills me with his cock.

It's not like the last few times we were together, not by a long shot. No, those times, they felt frantic, needy, desperate, like the two of us were always trying to outrun each other and find a way to hide the truth of who we were. But this? This moment we're sharing right now? It's anything but fake.

I press my forehead to his so I can gaze into his eyes as he fucks me and find that piercing stare boring into my mind. He's given himself to me completely, shown me that he's loyal to me above all else, that he'll go to any length he deems necessary to protect me.

A rush of pleasure courses through me, and I rake my nails along his back, pulling him in even closer. I can't get enough of him. I can't even come close. There's something so fucking hot about the man he is, about the man he's become while we've been together and that he wants me so much that he was willing to overlook the mission he planned on just because he wanted to be with me.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Elena."

Hearing my name on his lips sends another jolt of pleasure through me. I'm bucking against him now, grinding into him like I'm addicted to him, needing to feel him, every part of him, every inch of his body. He thrusts into me, filling me with long, deep strokes that send shockwaves through my whole system. I'm close, so close, so damn close to going over the edge I can hardly stand it.

And then, at last, the pleasure crests, and I sink into the most delicious climax. I claw at his back as I cry out, filling this whole house with the sound of my orgasm, my pussy clenching around his cock over and over again. He moves into me hard and fast, drawing the pleasure out for as long as he can get it to last, making every part of my body give in to him completely.

I feel him reach his own release inside of me, pushing deep one last time and then stilling himself as he lets me revel in the pleasure of my own orgasm. I squeeze my thighs around him, pulling him in close to me, letting him feel the helpless relief that only he can give me.

He holds himself there for a long moment before he pulls back, then slides himself from me carefully, as though still worried that I might break if he isn't careful with me. He kisses me one more time, a hard, passionate kiss that seems set to seal everything we've just shared, then pulls me into his arms and onto his chest.

I lie next to him, our naked, sweat-sheened bodies still tangled up in one another. I don't want to let him go. It feels like that morning at the cabin, when I felt like everything was about to change. But now, everything really has changed. Nothing is going to be the same, not ever again, not as long as I live.

But when I'm here with him, it's hard to believe that's a bad thing. Everything that happened in the forest feels almost... distant now, like it could have happened to someone else entirely.

He brushes his nose across my hair and cups my cheek so I can look at him.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm not sure," I confess. "Just... confused, I think. And tired."

"You should get some sleep," he tells me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"You don't think Valentina will be mad when she finds out I'm staying here?"

"I think she'll deal with it."

The way he says it, I can tell he's planning to have some serious words with his sister. I'm grateful. I don't think I can go back to my dorm room now and pretend like nothing happened at all.

"You stay here, sleep," he orders me as he climbs out of bed and starts to get dressed. "I'll bring you up some food later. Okay?"

"Okay."

He turns to me for a moment before he leaves, a slightly strange expression on his face. It's one that I haven't seen before, though something tells me I'm going to have to get used to it.

"I love you, Elena."

And with that, before I can so much as get a word out in response, he leaves. I want to say it back, but as I get comfortable in his bed, curling into myself, I find myself tumbling into a deep, dreamless sleep.