SILVIO
I knew I wouldn't get a wink of sleep that night. My body was still reeling from the aftereffects of having my body close to Presley's. I found her knocked out in some guest room, curled up in a ball and naked with the bedsheets covering her naked form.
I dressed her up in my dress shirt, carried her into my arms and headed towards her bedroom. The first thing I did was attempt to tie her scarf and bonnet around her head.
I knew she didn't ever go to sleep without her scarf and bonnet on. The minute her head hit the pillow, her hands shot out looking for something...anything or perhaps it was me.
A moment of hesitation passed; I stood by the bedside watching her silently deciding what the hell I was going do. I didn't know if I could—should sleep next to her. And one word was all it took. The sound of my name exhaled from that pretty little mouth of hers and I couldn't help myself.
A rough exhale of breath rumbled from my throat. Damn it. I slipped beneath her sheets, my hand instantly reaching forward to curl around her waist and pull her to my chest.
She snuggled between the cracks of my broken heart, burrowing a hole there and staining pieces of herself into my soul. Soft brown skin, thick eyelashes, and black beauty mark. My perfect angel. Everything I never knew I wanted and yet walked right into my life.
I could feel my vision getting blurry, my body entering a state of relaxation and as soon as I started losing pieces of my memory, I knew I couldn't lay here and steal the warmth of her body as if it was mine to indulge in.
Fuck.
Slipping out of bed, I wandered through the hallway coming a stop when I found my destination. I stole a black T-shirt and sweatpants from Beast's closet, the fabric tighter than I would have liked but it would do regardless.
When I landed in New York a few hours ago, my first destination was Presley; I didn't have a back-up plan or living arrangements because I hadn't planned to stop by New York but once again, it was because of her.
It was her birthday, and I couldn't help myself from indulging just a little bit even though I knew I didn't deserve her smiles, or her touches or her. But I was going to be better for her... I was going to be a better man to deserve her.
I didn't exactly plan to stay in New York, I also didn't plan on leaving her or letting her have a normal life with some fucked-up man and a white picket fence. Fuck all that, I was going to give that shit to her. And fuck whoever stood in my way.
I trudged my way back to the living room, collapsing against the leather chair and played one of Presley's favorite Hallmark movies in the background while reviewing some security tapes of her front door from the past few days.
Typically, I would receive a daily surveillance video from my men I was away, but I never watched it. Not one bit. I hated myself for invading on her privacy and driving her away from me that I promised myself never to do it again unless it was for her safety.
I always instructed my men to watch her closely from a distance, Tommaso was in charge of her security detail and as far as I knew, she was doing good in life. Or was. She had a fancy new position as Desmond's COO; had friends she
went out with often and went home at night.
And now as I sat here, viewing the security videos inside the apartment from months prior to today, I couldn't help but exhale a heavy sigh. I watched as she kept to the same routine; She would walk into her apartment, lock her doors, finish some work on the couch with her favorite movies playing as background on the television and then out of nowhere, she would tear up.
If I wasn't watching so closely, perhaps I wouldn't have been able to tell but it was there.
Clear as day, she was having a mini mental breakdown while working almost as if she refused to give herself the time or grace to have a breakdown.
The sight alone left a numbing ache in my chest that radiated outward until I couldn't watch anymore. God, I needed a cigarette.
As I reached into the pocket of my suit for a pack of Marlboro, a certain phrase appeared in my mind with blaring red signs. I don't kiss dangerous Mafia men who smoke. Fuck.
I shut the computer down extending myself a few minutes break. Walking over to the kitchen, I opened the fridge to take note of her groceries and the staples she was currently running out of. I sent a quick message to Tommaso making sure by the time she woke up; everything would be refilled.
Just as I'd settled on the couch to continue skimming through the surveillance videos, my phone began vibrating in my pocket and a quick glance at the screen causing me to grunt.
"Yeah." I murmured into the phone, fighting the urge to roll my eyes and empty out the rounds of my pistol into Beast.
I knew this would happen. Once he knew something about you, he would notify the rest of the group until everyone made it their personal business to invade your life.
"Didn't know you were taking a trip to New York." The low voice spoke, traces of disbelief laced his tone.
I tapped the keys on the keyboard, reviewing the latest video from yesterday's surveillance. "Didn't know I would be taking one." Fuck.
I paused for a second, my fingers lingering on the keyboard as I caught a glimpse of the reflection of a figure.
"How's the baby?"
"Fuckin' cries a lot."
A rough laughter trickled out of my mouth, and I shook my head at his response. Typical Octavius. When I'd first heard about the birth of their son, Marcello, all I could think of was that he'd gotten out of the fucking life.
He didn't have to look over his shoulder anymore; He got the girl, had a fucking kid and lords knows how many more they were planning to have.
"Well," I clicked my tongue, attempting to zoom further into the reflection to get an idea of who the fucker was. I rubbed a hand against my beard and tilted my head. "I think they're supposed to do that."
Right? I didn't know much about babies or held one in my life, but I supposed that was normal for—fuck, I didn't even know how old the kid was.
He grunted an inaudible response. There was a moment of silence on his end of the line almost like he was deep in thought of the right words. "You could have one too, you know?"
I paused. Clicked on the keyboard several times and exhaled a heavy sigh. "One what?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
I knew he couldn't be suggesting what I was thinking and if he was then he clearly hadn't learned anything about me from these past decades of our friendship.
"A baby, no?" He said in a duh tone. "I know Beast fuckin' calls you daddy, but you don't want a mini-Silvio calling you dada?"
The edges of my lips tipped in a small smile at his joke. "Never thought about it." Did I even like kids?
I ran a palm down my jaw, focusing a little too much on the reflection of the man on the computer screen.
What else was I supposed to say? I wasn't even fucking sure the woman would forgive me anytime soon to even want a damn baby with me.
And even if there was a silver of chance that would be true, I would never dream of bringing a kid in this damn world with my unfortunate ancestry.
I was already fucked-up beyond saving, had fucking mommy issues and my father was nowhere to be found growing up, I could only imagine throwing a kid into that mix. Hell no.
"It's her choice and besides, I don't think that'll ever happen." I shook my head at the idea feeling even more uncertain. I wasn't exactly repulsed by the idea but more of hopeful.
I could imagine it, almost taste it and fuck, I wanted it to be real so badly and that was the scary part. I wanted it. I wouldn't mind if she wanted it but I knew better than to get my hopes up for something.
He began to say something but was cut off by the high-pitched intense wail of a baby.
Strings of curses in Italian slip out of his mouth, the thump of the phone falling against the carpet, and Finley's sleepy voice whispering, most likely telling him she's got it.
Exchanged whispers, the soft coo of the baby as Finley's quiet voice spoke to him and Octavius' grumble into the phone. "Aside from the crying, they're pretty peaceful."
"Maybe it's just your kid."
"Why don't you have one and we can compare, yes?" I could almost hear the smile hidden beneath his voice. "Don't forget she's still single. She's not planning on waiting her whole life for a man who doesn't know what he wants in life."
He was right. She wouldn't wait all her life for me to get my shit together. Either I deserved her, or I didn't.
A click of my tongue and the slow twisting of my ring. "Octavius. Drop it." I blew out a deep, heavy my gaze focusing on the computer screen to calm the boiling range inside of me.
I knew he was doing this on purpose but the thought of her with anyone... fuck, she might as well have shot them herself. I knew what I wanted in life. I wanted her. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
He murmured gruffly, "Fine."
Thankfully he dropped on the matters of the kid and instead talked to me about Beast and Cosimo's latest shenanigans.
I mumbled a distracted hum listening on while keeping my attention on the surveillance videos, occasionally skimming past the current footage of the apartment door.
My jaw clenched when I paused at the front desk, glancing over at the footage of the concierge which had been in the same position since I last checked. Fuck.
"Give me a second." I told Octavius, placing the phone call on hold and dialed Tommaso's number.
I listened to the ringing of the phone go on for a couple of seconds then ended the call and spoke into the phone.
"Need you to do something for me. Call Beast and tell him it's an emergency. If I don't call back in half hour, call 911 for me."
That was all I said to Octavius before I ended the call. Even with the little piece of information I conveyed over the phone, I knew he would proceed with those plans.
I knew something was wrong, I could feel it, taste the jaw-gripping fear in the air as I paced back and forth in the living room. I was never nervous; it wasn't a familiar feeling, and neither was the mutant version of the emotion called fear.
My men had sent me images of the familiar figure lurking outside Presley's known places over the week and that was more than enough to send me running back to New York and now I questioned if that was the plan.
If he'd planned all this. If the man knew I would only come back if her safety was endangered and forced my hand.
The only question now was... what was his end goal? Her? Me?
That I couldn't exactly figure out. Why would he be so self-obsessed with Presley but send her threatening messages and pictures?
I could never figure that out.
I tapped my foot against the cold tiles thinking about my next plan. Tommaso never went anywhere without his phone, and he never failed to answer any of my calls. He knew the consequences for that. And yet, here we were.
I took out my gun from my holster, placed my sets of silver knife on the coffee table. Running a palm down my jaw, I glanced at the ceiling in deep thought. I knew I didn't have time for this—I knew what I needed to do because any minute now, he would break in and try to indeed lay a hand on her.
And fuck, that image flickered through my mind in a kaleidoscope, offering me a narrative into the different scenarios and ways this could end.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all to hell.
I headed towards her bedroom, flicking the bedside lamp on so I could see her face. I paused for a second, running a hard thumb down her jaw and taking in the sight of her face.
My heart clenched a painful note as I murmured her name.
She stirred gently in her sleep, those brown eyes fluttering wide open in shock and her body jerking before she realized where she was.
"What—Silvio?" She rubbed her fist against her eyes attempting to wipe away the remnant of sleep, but I could still see the tiredness visible in her features.
Fuck, she'd only slept for an hour or two before I woke her up.
"What's going on? Is everything okay?"
Her gaze flickered down to my gun which was gripped tightly in my non-dominant hand. The slow widening of her eyes and a small frown of her full lips. "Are you okay?"
My heart warmed a bit; It was almost comical how she was the one in danger here and yet she was worried about me. Others would be concerned at the mere thought of handing me a gun and what I could do with it, but she was worried about me.
"I'm fine." My voice was low, a little on edge. I stared down at her, maintaining unfaltering eye contact.
My fingertips traced the edge of her jaw softly. "I need to go check on something outside and I need you to stay here, hm?"
She nodded slowly, digesting in my words but I could still see the remainder of sleep on her face as she tried to concentrate.
"Did someone break in?" I shook my head unsure of how to respond. I didn't know what the fuck I was dealing with until I stepped outside, but I couldn't take Presley with me.
I needed her to be in here safe and hidden otherwise I wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but her safety.
Her voice shook slightly as she spoke, "Please don't lie to me."
Fuck.
My jaw clenched. "Someone tampered with the cameras around your front door and Tommaso isn't answering my calls, so I need to go make sure everything's fine," Another hesitant nod. "Lock the doors, hide inside the closet and don't open it regardless of who it is, yes?"
She nodded slowly, inhaling a deep breath. I gazed into those brown eyes, a little speechless and at a loss for words.
Fuck, I knew what I needed to do but I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at her for one fucking second to get a move on.
She needed me. Hell, I needed her close to me. It didn't mean it was the smartest thing to do.
"Good." I murmured softly, the words foreign and putrid on my tongue. Good? Really. "Come on."
I rose from the bed watching as her fingertips reached to take off her bonnet and scarf, her gaze flickering to mine in amusement and then threw her braids into a ponytail.
I followed her towards the closet, the sight of her in my clothes satisfying some primal fucked-up beast inside of me.
As soon as she'd made a space between her rows of clothes, I paused to stare at her feeling like there was something—I didn't know what the fuck it was—but something I needed to say.
"I—" I stammered slowly, unsure of what the hell I was going to say. Those big brown eyes glanced up at me, expectant. "Don't open the door for anyone."
"I know."
I nodded. Yeah, she did. "You know how to shoot a gun?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" My gaze narrowed. "Who taught you?"
A sly smile. "Myself."
Amusement skittled through my skin, and I couldn't help but smile. "Good girl." I placed the heavy metal in her right hand carefully. "Shoot anyone who comes even an inch towards you, yes?"
"Okay." She agreed, her voice a little shaky and broken. In the split of a second, those brown eyes glossed over and the little resolve she'd held onto faltered. "Wait. What if it's you? How do I know if it's you?"
I shook my head. "Doesn't matter." Something about my choice of words broke the small resolve she'd been holding onto. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she shook her head adamantly.
"Angel." I exhaled a deep, heavy breath, unable to just simply walk away. "What's this?"
I reached towards her, my hand curling around her nape to bring her face closer to mine. She was inhaling ragged breaths, shaking, and trembling against my body. Those beautiful brown eyes were glossed over, and in typical Presley fashion, she didn't make a sound even as she was crying.
My thumb caressed over her soft cheeks, flicking a tear away. "Breath for me." She nodded slowly, inhaling a full breath in and out. "Calm down. Everything's gonna be fine. You're fine. Just keeping breathing for me, yes?"
She responded with a shaky whisper. "I don't like this at all."
"I know, baby."
"Don't you dare die, or I'll kill myself." Those brown eyes narrowed into slits.
A rough trickle of laughter left my throat. "I know you will." I lowered my head, brushing my lips across her forehead and pressed a soft kiss.
I leaned back, gazing down into her eyes and feeling like there was something important I should have said—something she needed to know.
"I love you, Presley." Those four words slipped out of my mouth effortlessly, laced with softness and warmth.
Her gaze softened as she took in those words, her lips parting on an exhale but no words came out. I'd only heard it once that night and there was nothing more I wanted than to hear those three words again.
"Shoot first, ask questions later."
I didn't give myself another chance to get a glimpse of her or her response before I slammed the closet shut. I was barely hanging on by a thin... thin thread and I knew if I stared into those brown eyes of hers once more, I would be tempted to do things I couldn't do.
Silver knife in hand, I jabbed my elbow against the windowpane and watching as the glass shattered completely leaving shards on the ground in a disorganized fashion.
It was a shitty diversion, and anyone would know better than to assume someone would fall from the highest floor of an apartment building, but it would serve the purpose I had in mind.
Heading towards the living room, I checked on the security cameras on the front desk only to note that it was still playing the prerecorded loop of the concierge.
I unlocked the front door, moving slowly towards the familiar figure on the ground. Tommaso blew out a heavy breath, watching me through dazed eyes. "Sir?"
"What the hell happened?"
He attempted to stand, pushing up on his elbow but it was to avail. A mere second passed and he shook his head with a dreadful expression. "I got ambushed. He's got my gun, sir."
Fuck.
If they got to Tommaso, then—
Shit.
Before I could comprehend a single thought, bullets ran through the air piercing through the silence. I moved quicky towards the opposite door, taking solace as I rested flat against the doorframe. My heart was pounding, running wild and hard as I tried to concentrate on the current matters, finding it a little hard when my mind kept drifting to warm brown eyes.
I knew the first round of bullets was more of a warning given they hadn't aimed towards me. Silver knife aimed towards the assailant, the sound of my phone vibrating in my pocket as another rounds of bullets lingered in the air. Fucking hell. Not now.
The sharp clank of my knife fell against the floor painfully informing I'd missed.
And I never fucking missed.
Red mist and cloudy storm fogged the logic in my mind; My throat tightened; my skin burned to the touch as I caught a glimpse of smooth brown skin pressed tightly against a hard chest.
Those brown eyes I instantly recognized widened, the tiny tear escaping past her defense and dripping past her chin. Everything stopped moving around me, my breathing turned quick, ragged, uneven.
Energy pulsing in the air suddenly became unfathomable, putrid, and igniting the fears that'd wedged into my mind since the minute I met her.
"Drop the knife." The low voice called out, filled with such hatred. "Or I empty my rounds into her fucking brains."
My jaw clenched as I snuck a quick glimpse of the figure standing behind her, a hand tightly around her neck to hold her upright.
A quick trickle of hope rushed into me when I thought about simply aiming for the assailant but then I realized it wasn't just him.
There were two of them. Two fucking idiots who didn't care for their lives, it seemed.
I didn't say anything, didn't persuade them to let her go because I knew they wouldn't dare do such a thing.
Shit, I'd been in their position a couple of times to know that they had their ace card and letting that go was like giving up your fucking spot in heaven.
I would do anything they wanted because of her. My fucking vice. Everyone had their certain weakness, something that made them tick. She just so happened to be mine.
Instantly, I dropped the knives in my hand like they burnt to the touch with the simple graze of my fingers. I stepped out from the doorframe, my gaze flickering over at the two fucking idiots who'd made the unforgivable mistake of their lives.
The one I presumed was calling the shots held Presley tightly by the neck, the heavy metal I'd handed her earlier for protection was now flush against her skin, kissing the side of her forehead.
He wore a shit-eating grin, those dark eyes filled with darkness and familiarity as he stared me down.
My gaze shifted to the man behind him, peeking through the view of Presley's hair and holding one of my knives.
My gaze narrowed, "If you even plan on touching a hair on her head then you might as well kill me now." My voice was raspy, almost a growl as I managed to choke those words out. The one in charge raised an arched brow.
"Because I'm gonna warn you, when I manage to fucking find you, and I will, I'm going to be pissed."
"We'll see about that." He flashed a wide, menacing grin at me, lifted the pistol away from Presley's head and ripped a bullet into me.
Well fuck.