Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

I gripped the helicopter’s controls, my knuckles white with tension. Then forced myself to relax and focus on the horizon. We weren’t far from La Dimora Serena, my vacation home now.

Please, Dante, use your head for once in your life, and be smart enough to change the destination and not fly to Boston.

My heart raced, not only from the residue of adrenaline caused by our daring escape but from the gnawing worry about Jemma’s safety.

Who were our attackers? How did they know we would be on that roof right then? And most importantly, how did I not see this coming…at all? I’ve never been this blindsided—by anything.

But nothing pointed to this attack…and especially not Zotov’s behavior—who was the only logical conclusion. But why ?

“Those bastards didn’t expect us to take over their bird.” Hero chuckled beside me.

I side-eyed him. He was smirking. Good.

As much as I tried to protect everyone, right now, it felt like I was stumbling in complete darkness, searching for an exit. And how could I protect my family; how was I going to keep them and Jemma safe when I didn’t even know from what?

What a fucking mess.

I glanced back to where Peaches was holding one of the attackers and the pilot—both unconscious—at gunpoint. His face was pale but determined, and his hands remained steady despite the blood seeping from his hairline.

“You good, Peaches?” I asked.

“Affirmative,” he said.

Pride swelled in my chest. Holy shit, the way the three of us, without so much as looking at each other, took over the helicopter was nothing short of amazing.

We approached the house, and I reduced the speed and exhaled at the sight. Relief washed over me when I saw the other helicopter down on the landing H.

Thank God.

But my satisfaction was short-lived. My stomach clenched as I watched Jemma, Hawk, Goofy, and Dante scrambling towards the house.

“Fuck,” I muttered, banked the chopper sharply, and looked around. “What the hell are they running from?”

Hero leaned forward, squinting through the windshield .

“Maybe they think we’re the bad guys coming back for round two?” Peaches mumbled into the intercom.

“Shit,” I muttered when realization hit me like a freight train. “Call Dante and tell him it’s us,” I ordered Hero. We should have done that a while ago. Error on my part.

Seconds ticked by, the potential for disaster looming in my mind.

“Hey, Dante, it’s us in the chopper,” Hero said into his phone. “Don’t take us down, okay?”

I listened, my chest tight, until Hero gave me a thumbs-up.

“See you,” Hero said, then ended the call.

I focused back on the controls and maneuvered the helicopter towards the front lawn.

I set the helicopter down on the lawn with a gentle thud, my muscles aching from the tension in my body. The pain in my arm flared, and I glanced down at the blood seeping through my shirt.

Shit. When did that happen?

“Nice flying, bro.” Hero grinned, looking annoyingly unscathed. “You didn’t kill us after all.”

I rolled my eyes. “Unlike some, who are mostly bumbling around and flirting with the pretty ladies, instead of keeping up on their flying lessons, I actually know what I’m doing.”

Hero snorted and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Says the guy who uses his body as a shield for one pretty lady and is currently bleeding all over the controls.”

“She’s my future wife.” I flexed my biceps and winced. “And it’s just a scratch. ”

Peaches suppressed a groan from the back, reminding me of his own injuries. Guilt gnawed at me. I should’ve anticipated something would happen, should’ve protected them better.

As I climbed out, the smell of freshly cut grass mixed with jet fuel assaulted my nostrils. The sprawling Mediterranean-style villa I’d inherited from my grandpa—much to my father’s contempt—stretched before us.

I hadn’t been here often these last couple of months and rarely had been this grateful for the fort-like construction and remote location in rural Connecticut.

I closed the door, then turned to the back to assist Peaches but stopped mid-turn.

Jemma was sprinting toward us, her face a mix of relief and anger.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her even as I braced for the inevitable storm.

She was angry, really angry.

She didn’t even take the time to stop but instead ran straight into me at full speed.

I angled myself to protect my injured shoulder and took the brunt of the impact with my good side. “Uff.” Who would’ve thought someone with her lean stature could develop so much force and impact?

“You idiot!” she yelled, punching my chest. “I thought you were dead!”

I caught her fist, then slung my good arm around her, pulled her close, and hugged her against my chest. “Takes more than that to get rid of me, Punk,” I whispered against her temple, inhaling her fresh scent .

She leaned back and looked up with her eyes narrowed, but I felt her arms wrap around me, and she put her whole weight against me.

Progress, I supposed.

Dante, Hawk, and Goofy jogged up, concern etched on their faces.

“Jesus, Vince,” Dante whistled, eyeing my arm. “You’re bleeding all over the lawn.”

“Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious,” I retorted, but there was no real heat in it.

Hawk met my gaze. “You look like shit.”

I nodded once. I might look like shit, but I was not the one needing attention.

I pointed at the helicopter, and Hawk nodded and moved there.

He helped Goofy secure the attackers, while Hero focused on Peaches, who was a little wobbly after he’d climbed out of the helicopter.

“He needs medical attention,” I said, and Dante nodded.

“On it,” Hero said, and he and Dante helped Peaches move toward the house with a smoothness and synchronicity I hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe I’d been underestimating my brothers all this time.

I nodded at Rudolfo, my head of security, who was waiting with his team at the top of the stairs.

I gave him a nod toward the helicopter, pointing at the two hostages. “Detain them and make sure they’re okay. I have some questions for them. ”

Rudolfo nodded, instructed his team, and they came toward us.

I pulled Jemma closer once more, relief flooding through me. This was my turf. My kingdom. My ultimate safe space.

But she pulled back, her eyes blazing with fury. “What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed, pushing against my chest. “You could’ve been killed!”

I tightened my arm around her waist, keeping her close. “I did what I had to do to give us all the best chance possible to survive.” …To keep her safe.

“By playing action hero?” she scoffed. “Well, newsflash, this is not a movie, and you’re not the protagonist.”

Her words grated on my nerves, but I understood the motivation, the fear behind them.

I let her go and grabbed her chin instead. “How about you stop giving me shit for now, Punk? It worked, didn’t it? We’re all here, alive.”

“Hawk’s guy is hurt, and so are you!” She gestured at my bleeding arm. “You call that a success?”

I clenched my jaw and squeezed hers. “Yes, I do. Everyone’s breathing. That’s a win in my book.”

Jemma threw her hands up. “God, you’re impossible! You really have a God-complex. Did you ever think about the risks you’re taking?”

“Only the whole fucking damn time,” I growled. “It’s all I think about. You being the greatest risk of all.”

She glared at me, chest heaving. “Then maybe you shouldn’t want to marry me! ”

I’d had enough. In one swift motion, I moved my hand to her neck, pulled her against me, and crushed my lips to hers.

Jemma struggled, her fists pushing against my chest, but I held firm. Gradually, her resistance faded. Her lips softened under mine, and she melted into my embrace.

When we finally broke apart, both breathless, I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I scared you,” I murmured. “But I’m not sorry for doing what was necessary to keep you safe. And I don’t care about the risk as long as you’re mine.”

Her eyes met mine, a mix of anger and something softer. “Just…don’t do something like this again,” she whispered.

I knew I couldn’t make that promise, but for now, I simply held her close, savoring the moment of peace in the chaos around us.

I led the way into the house, my good arm around Jemma’s shoulders. The familiar scent of wood, lemon polish, and fresh flowers greeted us as we stepped into the grand foyer.

Marianna, the head housekeeper, hurried toward us, her eyes wide with concern.

“Mr. Salvini! We weren’t expecting you,” she exclaimed, her gaze darting between me, Jemma, and the group behind us.

I gave her a warm smile. “I’m sorry for the no-notice, Marianna. We had an unexpected change of plans.”

She nodded, already switching into efficiency mode. “Of course, sir. How many guests should we prepare for?”

“For now, seven, including myself and Miss Donnelly, who will stay in my room with me,” I replied, then turned to the others. “Marianna and her team will take care of everything. Make yourselves at home. ”

I pulled Marianna aside. “I hate to ask this of you and the staff on such short notice, but there may be additional guests coming, and we may be here for a while. Can you prepare the rooms and arrange for additional supplies?”

Marianna’s eyes softened, and she cupped my cheek the same way she’d done when I was a teenager. “Don’t worry about a thing, Mr. Salvini. We’ll take care of everything. Your guests will want for nothing.”

I squeezed her shoulder gently. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Please, make sure the staff knows their extra efforts won’t go unnoticed or unappreciated.”

She beamed at me. “They already know, sir. We’re always happy to serve you.”

As Marianna bustled off to organize everything, I caught sight of Carlo, the groundskeeper—and Marianna’s husband—hovering nearby. I waved him over.

“Please tell Rudolfo to increase security patrols. And I’m afraid we’ve left quite a mess on the front lawn with the helicopter.”

Carlo’s weathered face broke into a grin. “Don’t you worry about that, Mr. Salvini. We’ll have everything in shipshape in no time. It’s good to have you back, sir.”

I clapped him on the back. “It’s good to be back, Carlo. Thank you for everything.”

Goofy stopped me and put a pressure bandage on my arm to stop the bleeding without uttering a single word, which was quite unusual for someone who earned his nickname because of his boisterous personality.

As I turned back to the group, I noticed Jemma watching me with a curious expression. I raised an eyebrow at her, but she just shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

I led the way into the living room, my mind racing with plans and contingencies. Marianna, bless her, had already prepared refreshments and was bustling about, making sure everyone was comfortable. But comfort was the last thing on my mind right now.

As soon as we settled, I pulled out my phone and dialed Matt. He picked up on the second ring.

“You better tell me you’re all okay, or I’ll kill you myself.”

“Sorry to disappoint, little brother,” I quipped, relief flooding through me at the sound of his voice. “But you’re stuck with your big brothers for a while longer.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Matt’s voice was tense, worried.

“We’re safe for now,” I said, cutting straight to the chase. “Are you with Alex and Fee?”

“Yeah, they’re here with me. We’re actually in your apartment. Dom and Michele are here, as well. We came as soon as we heard about the attack. Are you okay?”

I glanced down at my arm, the blood from my wound already seeping through the makeshift bandage Goofy had slapped on me. “We’re fine. Listen, I need you to get Isa and Mira. Bring them out to the country, and bring the pup.”

“Got it,” Matt replied, his voice steady. “Anything else?”

Thank God I didn’t need to spell it out for him to bring them to La Dimora Serena. My brothers just knew.

“Tell Michele to take only the most trusted guys,” I instructed. “And be careful. Make sure you’re not followed. Take every precaution. And stay silent. ”

I didn’t know what all this was about. And I didn’t think this was the authorities’ doing, but just in case we were wire-tapped, it was better not to go into too many details.

“Anything else?” Matt asked.

“Nope.” The details were clear. All of my siblings knew our contingency protocols by heart because I made them run through imaginary scenarios a lot growing up, and once I inherited La Dimora, we all agreed it was the perfect hide-out. Especially since my father had no say here and wasn’t even allowed to step a foot on my land.

I let out a long breath, feeling some of the tension leave my body. Hopefully, the rest of my family would be safe soon.

I sank into the plush couch, my body suddenly heavy, feeling every ache and pain from the day’s events. I wasn’t in my twenties anymore, that was for sure.

To my surprise, Jemma sat next to me and leaned her head against my shoulder.

I glanced at her sideways. She looked utterly exhausted.

The fear and emotional turmoil had probably taken a toll on her, and the crash in adrenaline wasn’t helping either.

I put my arm around her and pulled her even closer.

She stiffened for a second, then relaxed.

My little punk was too tired to fight me, which was a nice change for once.

But she wasn’t nearly close enough.

I pulled her onto my lap.

“Vince,” she said, her eyes flitting around the room, before she settled her gaze on me, narrowed her brows, and gave me a cute, little annoyed stare.

“What?” I murmured, lifted her chin with a finger, and gave her a kiss. “You’re mine. Everybody in this room already knows, so why hide?”

Jemma took a deep breath and shook her head, but then she relaxed again and nestled her head against my chest.

I looked at my brothers, who were both smirking, like the man-children they were. I rolled my eyes at them, then swept the room.

Goofy and Peaches ignored us completely, and after a quick glance at Hawk, who was standing in the corner, talking on the phone and watching us with narrowed brows, I ignored the glances cast in our direction.

Jemma was mine, and hell, it felt damn good to have her safe and secure in my arms. And if anyone had a problem with that…I didn’t fucking care.

I wrapped my arms tighter around her and marveled at how right it felt to hold her like this. Despite the chaos swirling around us, despite the danger and uncertainty, this moment, having her in my arms felt…incredibly peaceful and right, like stepping out of an ice bath after a fight, after the first couple of seconds—right when all the pain went away and the body calmed down.

She belonged right here—as close to me as humanly possible. Her weight on me. Her skin against my skin.

Her breathing slowly evened out.

I looked down and studied her face, memorizing every detail. The curve of her cheek, the flutter of her eyelashes, the slight parting of her lush lips. How had this fierce, stubborn woman wormed her way so deeply into my heart in such a short time?

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, and she rubbed her cheek against me like a sleepy little kitten before settling again.

My little punk.

Whatever came next, one thing was for sure: I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

Hawk sat down on the opposite sofa and looked at Jemma with a dad-like smile before his gaze met mine and the look in his eyes sharpened.

He’d been on the phone from the moment we entered the house, and if I wasn’t wrong, he’d most likely mobilized his troops, as well.

What a lucky coincidence he and his men were with us on that roof. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

Hawk’s smile deepened, and he nodded once—ever efficient. “Once someone is under my protection, they remain under my protection,” he said. But it was the look in his eyes when he met my gaze that let me know he knew it was the same for me.

Hawk and his guys weren’t that different from us. Public displays of affection were mostly expressed through extensive teasing. But the bond between Hawk and his guys was similar to the relationship I had with my brothers. “How long until your team arrives?”

“ETA is about two hours,” Hawk replied, checking his watch. “Craig Donnelly’s on his way, too,” he said, then paused. “He sounded pretty pissed when I told him what happened. ”

I ran a hand through my hair and sucked in air between my teeth. How pissed would Craig Donnelly be once I told him I’d be the one marrying Jemma? “What’s his ETA?”

Hawk shrugged. “Around the same?”

I sighed. “Two hours suddenly feels really not like a lot of time.”

Hawk smirked. “Not ready to meet your future father-in-law?”

Yes. Maybe? At least I wasn’t ready to die—which was a possibility. I raised an eyebrow. “I was born ready.”

Dante and Hero chuckled, and I gave them a death stare, which sobered them right up.

Hero leaned forward, his eyes sharp. “Any ideas on who might be behind this? It’s not like we’re short on enemies, but this is a little much…out of the blue.”

“Could be the Russians,” Dante suggested. “Matt told me Zotov’s been acting very weird lately.”

I shook my head. “This doesn’t feel like Zotov’s style. It’s too…flashy and too messy; also, why would he do something like this when he’s already in Father’s ear?”

Goofy, who’d been quiet until now, spoke up. “Are we sure who the target was?”

I cocked my head. “They didn’t know you guys would be on that roof,” I said, then focused on Hero. “Same for you and Dante.” I sighed. “That pretty much leaves me.”

I needed to make a shortlist. And in all honesty, I didn’t know who—aside from Zotov and my father—would be on top of that list. Not that our family didn’t have enough enemies. But I avoided making new ones, if I could .

I shrugged. The Salvini family had been on top of the food chain for quite a while, so it was always possible that some hotshot wanted to prove himself by taking out the number one candidate to become the new boss.

Peaches, who was still a bit pale but alert, chimed in. “What if it’s not about you? What if they’re after Jemma?”

The thought sent a chill down my spine. I glanced at Jemma, fast asleep on my lap, and tightened my hold on her. Did she have enemies who would stage something like this? If so, it was related to Donnelly—and he would be here soon enough to answer that question.

“We can’t rule anything out,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “But whoever they are, they’ve made a big mistake.” I turned to Hero. “How about you go check if our guests are still asleep?”

Hero got up, and Goofy joined him. “Let’s check on our sleeping beauties.”

Hero nodded, and together, they left.

Hawk’s grim smile probably resembled the one on my face.

“I can’t wait to get some answers from them.”

“Vince,” Hawk warned, “let’s be smart about this. I know your methods are not the same as ours. But let’s play by the rules for now.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You want me to play clean?” I growled and could feel my stomach harden because I wanted nothing more than to kill those bastards with my own two hands.

Hawk nodded.

“I’m not sitting on my hands while someone out there’s gunning for me.” Or her. I looked down at Jemma again, my resolve hardening.

“Let’s get your wound checked, and then find out who’s behind this,” Hawk said, his voice sharp as steel.

“And when we do, they’ll wish they’d never heard the name Salvini,” I said and matched Hawk’s gaze.

I could play clean for now. But I wasn’t ready to promise anything.

Because if it came to my family’s safety, I didn’t take half-assed measures. And I sure as shit had no problem playing as dirty and deadly as needed.