Page 29 of And Twice as Twisted (Agostino Crime Family #4)

SIENNA AGOSTINO

I t was funny how, at first, my family had all but forced me to leave. But now that I was planning to go on my own accord, they feigned sadness. As if they assumed they could dictate the specifics.

The dinner a few weeks ago was the last time I’d talked to Romano. Whenever my father asked, I changed the subject. I had nothing to say.

What could I tell him? He asked me a bunch of prying questions about you and the family? That you should start a war off a gut feeling?

Alexei and I had come up with the plan. We’d squared away most of the pending deals and prepared my team to handle the rest. I had one last client I was going to meet for dinner before it solidified everything on our to-do list. The new client wanted to sell a patent for a state-of-the-art security system he’d created.

I was going to meet with him this evening, then tomorrow Alexei and I were gone.

My family knew I had plans, but they didn’t know the details.

It wasn’t their place to worry about me anymore.

I’d hired a COO to run Energia and had a secured channel they could use to contact me.

But that was it. I wanted to be a ghost as we worked to bring Octavia home.

I’d done my part. Apollo was released with time served, after my heartfelt testimony deeming him a hero.

Bella told me the first thing Apollo did when he got out was search for me.

But I’d been hiding at Nikolai’s compound in New Jersey.

Alexei’s uncle was back in Russia, handling Bratva business, and allowed me refuge.

I only spoke to Bella, who kept me apprised of Apollo’s continued unraveling.

It was so hard to breathe. I needed him like I needed air, but the pain of our separation was going to be my cure.

He went through bouts of anger that were pointed at everyone but himself.

If it wasn’t at me, it was my family for hiding me.

My father and brother would eventually get him back under control and he could return to their side.

And I would get some peace. Maybe even find a new Apollo—a less toxic version—to settle down with.

Now that was comical. Goddamn sad but comical.

“Where are we?” I asked my driver. I was so lost in my own misery that I hadn’t noticed we were on the side of the road.

It was raining, an absolutely miserable night that matched my miserable mood.

I couldn’t make out much besides the trees to our right and the dreary, darkened clouds looming above.

“Where are we?” I asked my driver. I was so lost in my own misery that I hadn’t noticed we were on the side of the road. It was raining, an absolutely miserable night that matched my miserable mood. I couldn’t make out much besides the trees to our right and the dreary sky looming above us.

I was forever cloaked by the dark cloud that followed me.

Usually that thought was metaphorical, but now it was physical as the car was pelted by a sudden flood of torrential raindrops.

“Sorry, miss, engine problems.” My driver slid out of the car before I could respond.

The hood raised and blocked my view of the road ahead of us.

Pulling out my cell phone, I started checking emails before an odd noise caught my attention.

Dread settled into my gut, but I swallowed back my nerves and opened the door, stepping out into the storm. In more ways than one…

“Everything okay?” I shouted as I approached the front of the car.

“Sienna.” My name was called out from behind me.

Haunted. Distant. And fucking angry.

“W-what’re you doing here?” I hated the weakness in my voice but the animosity in his rattled me.

“I’ve come for you. Isn’t that what you wanted?

” He took a step forward and I took two back, calling for the driver.

“He’s dead.” The words came without remorse.

“He was going to hurt you. I saved you, Sienna. Just like in one of your fairy tales.” He was mocking me, his vacant eyes burning with cruelty.

“What do you want from me?” I rushed forward. Fuck self-preservation. I always knew my temper would be the death of me. “Tell me!” I slammed my fists into his chest, my pain and guilt driving each blow.

“I find it absolutely insulting that you haven’t thanked me yet.”

My heart was lodged in my throat as he pulled me closer.

“No.” I tried to push him back but all I could do was continue to flail my arms. He ignored me, grabbing both of my hands in one of his and slamming my body against the car.

He pinned me in place, his much larger torso rubbing into mine.

I could feel his arousal against my stomach and dread cemented my limbs, stalling my fight as if I were somehow locked in his palpable animosity.

“Fine. I’ll make you thankful.” He wrapped his free hand around my throat and tugged me forward. His muscles flexed and the tattoos on his arm seemed to dance with the movement. Mocking me.

I latched on to his wrist, scratching his skin as he opened the back door and threw me inside the car.

When my pencil skirt hindered my legs from widening, he shredded it down the center and stepped between them.

His fingertips roamed from my thighs, up to my panties, and rubbed me through the fine silk.

He hummed his appreciation before traveling north, groping my breasts and pinching my nipples through the material of my shirt.

I managed to wrap both hands around his wrist and tug.

Then, using all the force I could muster, I bent it backwards.

He reached out on instinct, slamming his meaty fist into my cheekbone.

My brain bounced around my skull for a second before my nails found his face, embedding into the flesh until I could feel the trickle of blood.

“I fucking hate you for what you’ve done!

” I screamed, kicking out at him. He was temporarily taken aback, and I sought my moment to attack with everything I had.

He fell out of the car and I climbed across the center console, trying to get into the driver’s seat.

Before I could, he grabbed my ankle and jerked.

My face slammed into the gear shaft and blood erupted from my nose.

“You know you want this. I saw it in your eyes when you came to visit me. You wanted me to use this body, so there would never be anyone else after I was done with you.” He kept pulling me.

I tried to catch myself as my stomach slid off the seat and my shoulder took the impact as I plummeted onto the concrete. “No, please. Don’t do this.”

He dumped my body into the overgrown grass and ripped off his suit jacket, dropping it beside me before reaching for his zipper.

His hand was heavy against the center of my chest, pinning me down and making it hard to breathe while the rain coated my face and soaked my remaining clothing, chilling me to my bones.

“Please don’t,” I begged in a half whisper as I felt him tug my panties to the side and settle his erection at my entrance.

“That’s it, baby.” He licked along my jawline. “Give me those filthy lies. Pretend you don’t want this.”

My brain was foggy, my fight dwindled, and the blood in my veins stalled as he slammed into me.

This was it. This was the moment I died.

It didn’t matter if I physically survived his assault.

Because, either way, Sienna Agostino was dead.

He pulled back and slammed into me harder, the wet grass slicking my spine and gliding me through the mud.

I turned my head, unable to look at the traitorous bastard so keen on destroying me.

I prided myself on the fact that I was strong.

That I’d overcome the stereotypes of being born a woman in the mafia.

Then shattered my image by believing it somehow made me worthy of love, a ridiculous ideology that women were given at a young age.

And, in the end, it ruined me.

He was so large I couldn’t see past his body, unable to beg the stars for reprieve.

But God must have turned his back on me long ago.

It was the only explanation I had in this moment.

There was a time when I believed people were given trials and tribulations in order to teach them a lesson.

A message sent from a higher power to tell us something.

There were instances where it took a while to understand while others seemed to slap you in the face without much thought.

I needed God to tell me what this was supposed to mean.

What lesson I was meant to learn. Instead, it was the devil who heard my please and showed me the way out.

And I understood. I saw it.

The handle sticking out from under his discarded jacket.

Just within reach. I looked up and his eyes were filled with lust, devoid of the man who’d once protected me.

There was no redemption after this. Not for him and not for me.

I was done with my heart getting broken again and again.

My body was overwhelmed with agony as he pounded into me. Harder and harder with each thrust.

My chest ached but I knew I had to do it.

My arm stretched forward, my fingers digging into the mud until I felt the cool, hard metal.

It was slippery in my grip, but I managed to pull it closer.

He dropped onto his elbows, his face inches from mine as he panted against me.

“You fucking love it. You love everything I do to you.” His breaths became faster, harsher.

“Lies. It’s all goddamn lies.”

He stopped thrusting for a moment to stare down at me in shock.

“You may think you’ve ruined me. But I’ll fucking end you.” I raised my arm.

“You don’t have the balls…” He stopped when I pressed the barrel to his temple. My heart was beating out of my chest, and for a moment, I thought he was right. I thought… I can’t. I can’t do this to him —but this man didn’t deserve anything from me. Nothing but hatred.