Page 30 of Bittersweet Endings (Agostino Crime Family #6)

OCTAVIA AGOSTINO

I found it astounding when people doubted me. Poor Octavia. Weak. Deprived. Sheltered. Damaged. Even after all they’ve learned—all I’ve overcome—it was still there.

Their judgment.

The men in my life played their own games, with their own rules.

And in the mafia, their word was law. Women didn’t have an opinion.

Until my mother. My father had broken those rules when he married her.

She didn’t sit in the shadows. She wasn’t stuck at home raising kids. She was a force at his side.

Sienna was creating her own empire and paying her dues. Marco had finally grown up, managing his own crew and stepping out from under Lucky’s shadow.

Then there was me. The puppet. Strings attached to every limb as I danced for them.

Now my brother had handed the strings to Carmine and it made no sense. Something was up, and I didn’t care for the darkness they continued to lock me inside. I wasn’t falling for this shit. No way .

Sipping from the new glass of wine, I had to hide my scowl. It was delicious, better than what Lucky had ordered. And that was damn infuriating.

My temple throbbed, as I glared at Carmine. “Enough games. How did you manage this? And why?”

He looked over the rim of his glass. “Listen, little doll. Your brother has come to realize that it’s just a matter of time before I’m Capo. And I am a far better ally than an enemy. To start a fruitful relationship, he understands it needs to be a give and take.”

“Giving. What would a tyrant like you be willing to give?” I smirked, loving the way Carmine’s mouth twitched.

He finished his glass and refilled it, then topped mine off. Sitting back in his chair, Carmine appeared thoughtful for a moment and I didn’t know what to expect. “I am willing to give. If I get what I want in return. And there’s something big I want.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I glanced around the restaurant, looking for Lucky or Rocco. Only they were gone. In fact, more than half the place was empty. A heaviness settled on my chest. Carmine wanted something big and I had a feeling I knew what it was.

“That’s my girl. I see that mind spinning and slowly coming to understand your reality.” He leaned forward again. “You, Octavia. I want you. Officially mine. Lucky’s accepted it.”

My chest heaved, and I tried to hold on to a semblance of calm. These men. This goddamn mafia. I was being pranced around with a flashy price tag on my head. And I was done.

“Well, well, well. Feisty. I can see that fight bubbling up, ready to tip over. And it makes my dick hard.”

I slowly grabbed my steak knife.

“Something to say, little doll?” Carmine pressed.

“I’m. Not. For sale.” My fist hammered the table with each word. My water tipped over, and the remaining patrons turned to stare.

“I know that.” He grinned. “You’re already bought and paid for.”

“With?”

“I’m handing JP over to New York.” He shrugged, and I froze.

“But… after everything he’s done… Don’t you want to be the one…”

“I want him dead. I don’t care who does it.

I ain’t losin’ sleep over that minor detail.

Lucky can have fun.” Carmine’s fingers pressed against the table.

“You mean more to me. I’ve missed how you spread your legs.

How you moan my name. The claw marks down my back have healed. And I need more of ?em.”

My bottom lip shook. Tears started to drip over my lashes. His thumb shot out to wipe it away. For a moment, he looked confused and almost apologetic. But it was all a lie. A bastard trying to one-up me.

“You want—no, you deserve your revenge. Why, Carmine? The truth.”

“You know I don’t care to repeat myself.” He rolled his eyes and it set me off.

I moved fast. The knife striking out and landing precisely between his pointer and middle finger.

He didn’t pull his hand back, but it made me smile to see him tense.

His exhale was slow and measured. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’d managed to avoid nicking him. But it worked. I’d pissed him off.

Still, this man never did anything I expected him to do. Never would I have guessed that he’d scoot his chair closer. A gentle hand cupped my chin, the other tucking a piece of hair behind my ear .

He lowered his mouth to my ear. “Let me tell you something, Octavia.”

I couldn’t help it. I flinched at the agitation in my name.

“Your little antics might turn me on, but you will stop. You know how this works when we’re in public. You know who I am and what it means. Keep it up and I will punish you.”

“I don’t care. I’m not yours. And I’m not Lucky’s to sell either.”

“Too bad. It’s done.”

I gasped as his hand pulled my face to his, and I was lost in the heat. I’d forgotten the way he made my body come alive. All the memories of our time together and how all of it wasn’t bad. How I’d felt safe and protected, even if the back and forth was making me crazier.

“No.” The word came harsher than I thought it could, not with him so close.

He sighed, annoyed and almost disappointed. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”

I could’ve laughed at the audacity. It was such a stupid response. Yet I knew he spoke it with nothing but truth. A Capo, claiming what belonged to him.

Carmine went for my hand, and I tried shaking him off. The knife going to his throat. His smirk was condescending, because he thought I couldn’t do it. I knew I could. And I would. If I had to. If it meant losing my freedom.

A haze settled over Carmine’s expression. I could feel the tension. The slightest tick in his cheek. The quick, subtle glance behind me.

“I’ll always protect you,” he whispered. It was soft, kind. And then, out of nowhere, he shoved his seat back and raised a gun to my face. “We’re leaving. And you’re coming with me.”

What the fuck was going on ?

“Up. Now.” He motioned with the gun for me to move. “Let’s go, Octavia. Don’t make me carry you out of here.”

The change scared me. I stood on shaky legs, and Carmine gripped my elbow to steady me. I discarded my napkin on the table and felt a confusing, traitorous tear splash across my cheek. I went to grab my clutch and stumbled backwards into Carmine.

Peiro sat at the table behind us, the man I thought I knew long gone.

The smirk was cocky and something else. And I wanted to wipe it off him.

Two men loomed at his back while their guns remained at their sides.

Peiro slowly pushed to his feet, glaring at Carmine.

Then, he spared me a single glance, and I had the urge to vomit.

The man I thought of as family had mutilated me. Had taken pieces of me I was never going to get back. There was a time when he’d watched out for me, cared for me in a way that was different from the others. I’d felt special, like he actually saw me and I wasn’t just a job.

And all that had been ruined.

How hadn’t I seen the darkness that surrounded him? How hadn’t I noticed his resemblance to Uncle Rick?

“Hello, Octavia.” Peiro scowled as Carmine grabbed my arm and shoved me behind him. “That’ll be the last time you touch her,” he warned.

“Will it?” Carmine taunted. “Or will it be when I’m covered in your blood? Fuckin’ her as she’s screaming my-fucking-name.”

“You. Won’t. Touch. Her,” Peiro shouted each word. “She doesn’t want you!”

“And you think she wants you?” Carmine laughed. “Do you really believe that she looks at your mark and thinks pleasant thoughts about you?”

“I know she does because she’s mine. I marked her for everyone to know.” Peiro glanced at me again before returning his focus to the beast in front of him.

“She wasn’t thinking about you when she was lying under me. On my table. In my bed. My head between her thighs.” Carmine’s arm came around, tugging me into his side. “She doesn’t think about you, not even when I licked. Every. Fucking. Scar.”

Spit flew out of Peiro’s mouth as he screamed, “She. Is. Mine!” He ripped his own weapon from his back, pointing it at Carmine. “She belongs to me. And you’re outgunned, motherfucker. Octavia is coming with me, Carmine. Now.”

“I see two dead assholes and a dumb fuck. And I’m outgunned?” Carmine was so sure, confident. “Octavia is hopping a flight and coming back to Cali. With. Me.”

His grip on me tightened when Peiro stepped forward, shouting incoherently. Carmine tensed and dropped his hold on me. Readying his stance and taking aim.

Peiro kicked over a chair. “Fucking move. I don’t want to shoot you. I won’t hurt her!”

“Hurt her?” Carmine said at the same time I asked, “Hurt me?” Absently, my hand went to my stomach, the scars burning my flesh. “All you’ve done is hurt me. You raped me. Scarred me!”

My voice didn’t waver as I spat everything at him. Undoing my skirt just a little, I pulled it down to reveal the ugly marks that were embedded into my soul.

“This isn’t your masterpiece. This is the fucked-up marking of a psychopath.” I lunged around Carmine but he grabbed my bicep, halting me. “I’m not yours! And I never will be!”

“Calm down,” Carmine chastised.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” I lunged again but his hand was like a steel band holding me back. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate. You. For what you did!”

Peiro flinched but quickly recovered. “You just don’t remember how good it was. How good we are together.” He glared at Carmine. “Once I’ve erased his touch from your body, you’ll remember what we had.”

“You won’t touch me. Ever again.” The vehemence in my words seemed to finally break through.

For a moment, that soft, endearing gaze remained. As if he was waiting for the joke to end. Years of me terrified and alone because of what he did. That was years of longing and building a world inside his mind for him. This wasn’t a fucked-up revenge plot to Peiro but an actual love story.