Page 21 of Bad Bishop

“I’d have done this regardless, considering the circumstances,” Vello said. “You know that.”

I had to tilt my entire body to look at the Ferrante girl, thanks to her brother plucking one of my eyeballs out. She sat primly on the edge of the settee, hands in her lap, staring down at her feet.

I didn’t need to look. I already knew she was fucking gorgeous.

It was why I spared her meaningless life the night Achilles took my eye.

Tarnishing her soft skin with my blood, putting fear in those sapphire blues, had been enough to get my dick hard.

She was fawn-like in features. A tiny little thing. Utterly angelic. Her pale gold hair flowed in succulent waves down to her ass. Her frame was narrow and slim, and the swell of her tits was magnificent under her lilac buttoned-down dress. Her face was the pinnacle of perfection. Hand-drawn high cheekbones, elfin nose, cerulean eyes, and pouty, pink lips. The elegant arch of her eyebrows was delectable. Even her nostrils were flawless. She held zero resemblance to her brothers, with their Roman noses, square jaws, and amber tans. Not to mention Vello, who had the underbite of a French bulldog.

If this creature was a pure-blooded Ferrante, I was Peter the Apostle.

Tragic was the fact such beauty was wasted on a woman who could never use it as a weapon. Although, judging by the way she stared back at me now, she looked like she wanted to spear me into the nearest rusty fence. Very Ferrante of her.

It occurred to me Vello just sacrificed his only daughter for me to do to her as I pleased. Snap those shapely legs like twigs. Make her pay for every single thing her brothers did to me. She wouldn’t breathe a word. Even if she could, it’d be too late. She’d be mine.

To own.

To control.

To abuse.

Every single person in the room knew this fact. Yet, it was a price they were willing to pay. All of them, with the exception of her mother, who hardly had a say.

I turned back to the don. “She’s a corker, I’ll give you that, but a pretty cunt is just that—a cunt. It feels the same as any other in the dark. Sweeten the deal for me. Offer me something I cannot refuse.”

“Tiernan,” Da growled.

Vello held his hand up. “It’s his right to consummate this marriage if he takes her as a wife. As long as he doesn’t damage her, I’ll allow it.”

Chiara completely lost it. She flung from the couch, throwing herself onto Vello, her fingers wrapping around his neck. She started yelling in Italian.

Luca and Achilles didn’t intervene.

“A santa Chiara dopp’arrubbato mettettero ‘e porte ‘e fierro,”1 Vello spat out, not bothering to spare her a look. He hit the panic button under his desk with a yawn. Two Camorrista soldiers stepped into the room.

“Gentle with her,” Luca said coolly. The two men pried the hysterical woman from her husband, escorting her out of the room.

“You’re a bad bishop, Tiernan.” Vello dragged a bishop piece across his chessboard. “You have all these ambitions—eliminating the Bratva, taking over swaths of New York, gettinginto politics, but none of the manpower and only half the funds. You’re blocked whichever way you go. Camorra here, Russians here, feds there. Can’t move left, right, backward, or forward. You’re stuck.” He knocked a pawn on the chessboard with the bishop. “I can help you with that. I can unlock all these doors you’ve been craving to open.Tiernan,” he raised his voice, his eyes searching mine, “I have the key.”

“I’ll claim the bastard by giving it my name only. I’ll not be involved with your daughter or the child. She can live under my roof, and I’ll fuck her occasionally, but nothing more.”

“Continue.” Vello pressed his fingers together. He was an old wolf. But an old wolf was still a wolf. He wasn’t going to hand over half his kingdom.

“In exchange, you’re gonna help me finish off the Rasputins.”

The room fell quiet.

Achilles was the first to bite. “Fuck it.” Smoke engulfed his words. “They want New York. We’ll have to deal with them sooner or later. It’ll send the right message to our enemies, too.”

“What’s the message?” Luca asked.

“That we always notice and never fucking miss.”

Vello turned to look at Luca.

He jerked his chin. “It’s been a long time coming.”