Page 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

T o my utter surprise, I’d survived Craig Donnelly’s anger.

I still vividly remembered the beating Gabe received from Donnelly when he told him he was the father of Sophie’s child.

Donnelly had definitely gone easy on me.

Because he’d knocked Gabe flat out, and he’d spent a week in the hospital afterward.

I side-eyed Donnelly, and he really didn’t look as murderous anymore as when he used me as a punching bag for his pent-up emotions just moments ago.

I squared my shoulders, and prepared myself for another round with Craig Donnelly because the man might’ve stopped using his fists for now, but who knew how he would react to the news of me marrying Jemma instead of Matt?

“You think you can just waltz in and take my daughter?” Donnelly snarled, his face still flushed with anger .

I narrowed my brows. So he already knew—that was unexpected. “With all due respect, Donnelly, our arrangement still stands; it’s only minor circumstances that have changed.” I kept my voice level and focused on proper articulation—despite the throbbing in my jaw.

He scoffed. “Minor circumstances? I agreed to her marriage to your brother, not for her to be put straight into the line of danger and be scared to death! And certainly not to be toyed with and used as the Salvini family’s whore.”

Jemma gasped.

My muscles tensed as my temper rose. How could he think my wanting to marry her was me toying with her, or using her as… “That’s not what’s happened,” I countered.

Jemma turned to me and cocked her head.

“What?”

She gave me a lopsided grin. “You kidnapped me…and scared me.”

I narrowed my eyes. That’s what she chose to address? Not her father calling her a whore?

My eyes snapped from Jemma back to Donnelly. “I only did that to protect her, but let’s ad?—”

“Protect her?” Donnelly’s laugh was bitter. “From what? The biggest danger here is you, Salvini.”

He suddenly looked very suspicious. “So you didn’t have sex with him?” he asked Jemma outright.

I could feel her cowering next to me. “As I stated before, Jemma is an adult. And since we’re going to get married?—”

“You’re what?” Donnelly said, his voice sharp, and surprise was written all over his face. So he didn’t know ?

“What exactly do you mean by you’re getting married?” Donnelly said.

This was it; this was the moment of truth. “Jemma and I are going to be married,” I repeated and gave Jemma a sideways glance.

“Absolutely not.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling the tension radiate through my body. Craig Donnelly’s refusal wasn’t unexpected, but it still stung. I’d negotiated with rival Mafia bosses and corrupt politicians and faced ruthless killers without anything they’d ever said or done impacting me. I’d endured my father’s disapproval for years, yet somehow, this Irish mobster’s disapproval felt like a punch to the gut.

“With all due respect, Donnelly,” I began, fighting to keep my voice steady and my ego under control, “Jemma is an adult. She can make her own decisions.”

Craig’s eyes flashed dangerously. “An adult? She’s barely out of her teens, Salvini. And you’re, what? Pushing forty? I’ll never agree to that.”

Jemma stiffened beside me. “Dad,” she said, and her hand found mine, squeezing it tightly.

The gesture gave me strength, reminding me why I was fighting this battle.

“I’m 31, but age is irrelevant,” I countered. “What matters is that I can protect her, provide for her?—”

“Like you protected her when you kidnapped her?” Craig interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I took a deep breath, tamping down my rising anger. “That was…a misunderstanding. One that won’t happen again. ”

“And what about that attack on the roof? You put my daughter in danger. You failed to protect her, Salvini. My answer is no.”

Craig turned to Jemma, his expression softening slightly. “Button, you were right. Forcing you into an arranged marriage was unwarranted. I only agreed to that marriage with Matt Salvini because of your uncle and also,” he hesitated, “because you were spiraling out of control, and I thought you needed something to jolt you out of your…” He pointed at her hair, then looked away. “But we’ll find another solution.” He glared at me. “There’s no need for you to be tied to…him.”

I ignored Donnelly, turned, and watched her face, my heart pounding. This was her moment to speak up, to tell her father and me what she truly wanted. To pick her side. The silence stretched on, agonizing and tense.

Finally, she spoke. “Dad, I…I’m okay. I will marry him.”

Craig’s face fell, a mixture of disappointment and disbelief etching across his features. “No,” he said firmly. “I won’t allow it. This marriage will not happen.”

“Yes, it will. This is our arrangement,” I said.

“I’m not throwing my daughter to the wolves,” Donnelly countered and glared at me as if I was the biggest piece of scum he’d ever encountered.

We went back and forth, trading barbs and accusations. I could feel the situation spiraling, our voices getting louder with each exchange. But I would not back down.

Not with this. No fucking chance.

Suddenly, Jemma jumped up, and her voice cut through our argument like a knife. “Both of you, shut it! ”

We both turned to look at her, startled by her outburst. Jemma stood there, hands on her hips, eyes blazing with a fire I’d never seen before.

“I’m not some prize to be fought over,” she continued, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. “And none of you own me. I can make my own choices. Dad, I love you, but you need to back off. And Vince, stop trying to control everything. We’re in this together, remember?”

As I watched her stand tall and defiant, something clicked into place. This was exactly the kind of woman I needed by my side—someone who wasn’t afraid to stand up to me or call me out when I forged ahead like a bull who could only see the red flag. Exactly the woman necessary to hold her own in my dangerous world.

Holy shit, I’d hit the jackpot. I nodded, raised my hand, and waited until she laid hers into mine. Somehow, that little contact was exactly what I needed.

“So, now that that’s settled, how about we ask Hawk if he will stitch you up again since, thanks to you, Dad”—she narrowed her eyes and glared at her father—“he’s bleeding again.” With that, she pulled her hand from mine, turned around, stomped across the room, and flung the door open. “Is someone willing to stitch that idiot up again?”

Idiot? I turned around, and our eyes met across the room. She stared at me defiantly.

We should talk about this…later, possibly naked, with me turning her ass a beautiful shade of red, preferably.

My brothers and Alex entered first. All four of them had various degrees of amusement etched on their faces.

Assholes .

Behind them, my twin sisters entered, and alongside Fee, they immediately pulled Jemma across the room and to the connecting door. She looked back at me, shrugged once, and then let them drag her into the next room.

Apparently, this time, she wouldn’t hold my hand and help me through my pain.

Hawk entered, and behind him, a never-ending string of people, both mine and some I’d never seen before. Hawk’s?

I immediately tensed up.

Hawk sensed my unease because he raised his hand, and his people froze. “Vince Salvini, meet my team; team, meet Vince Salvini,” he said.

I stood and faced the men and women. “This is Max; he was a PJ, so he will do a much better job stitching you up,” Hawk said, and the guy raised his hand, then crossed the room and put down his backpack on the side table.

“Max’s better half, Milli, is an ace in all things computer,” Hawk said and introduced the young woman next. “And this is Birdie.” He hesitated, then shut his mouth.

The second woman had darker hair and was taller than Milli. But the starkest difference was in the way she carried herself.

I’d seen my fair share of contract killers, hitmen, and undercover operatives. But something told me she was the queen of them all. Cold, stealthy, deadly.

“Phantom and Rey are our newest additions after they recently hung their heads on their lives as sailors.”

Sailors? My ass. Phantom and Rey both were bulky, and I would bet they knew the exact position of everyone in this room, what they were holding in their hands, and if they had hidden weapons, and had already assessed who posed the biggest threat. Not something your typical sailor would know or be able to do.

So, if Hawk had recruited them from the Navy, they’d probably been SEALS, not sailors.

I nodded in their direction, then zeroed in on the next person who stepped through the door.

What the fuck?

Ivan Zotov strode through the door as if he owned the damn place.

My muscles tightened, and I shot up from my seat, ready to kill him with my own two hands.

What the hell was this Russian bastard doing in my home? “What are you doing here, Zotov?” I growled, my hand instinctively moving towards my nonexistent weapon—which for some stupid reason I hadn’t carried all weekend.

Damn.

To my shock, Craig Donnelly stepped forward. “He’s with me, Salvini. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

I narrowed my eyes, my gaze darting between Zotov and Donnelly. This unexpected alliance set off alarm bells in my head.

First my father, now Donnelly? What game was Zotov playing?

Zotov raised his hands, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Easy, Salvini. I come bearing gifts…in the form of information.”

“The only gift I want from you is your absence,” I spat, not relaxing my stance one bit .

Zotov’s smirk widened. “Always so hostile. Is that any way to treat a guest?”

“You’re no guest of mine. I make it a habit not to befriend or invite assholes.”

“Such colorful language.” Zotov tsked. “I thought Italians were known for their hospitality.”

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to wipe that smug look off his face. “And I thought Russians knew better than to stick their noses where they don’t belong.”

As we traded insults, my mind raced. If Zotov was the one trying to kill me, he would’ve done so by now. He’d had ample chances. And now, he claimed to have crucial information? But could I trust anything that came out of this dog’s mouth? On the other hand, if he was working with Donnelly, there might be something to his claims.

I weighed my options. Killing Zotov would be satisfying, as would kicking him out, but it might mean missing out on vital intel. Letting him stay and speak his piece was risky, but it could potentially give us a leg up. And didn’t I plan to have a chat with him anyway?

I needed to get to know him, needed to find out whatever game he was playing.

I glared at him, my jaw clenched so tight I could feel a headache coming on. The urge to throw him out on his ass was almost overwhelming, but I forced myself to stay put. Information was power in our world, and I couldn’t afford to let my temper get the best of me.

Suddenly, Hawk stepped between us, his presence commanding attention. “Alright, gentlemen, let’s dial it back a notch,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We’re all here for a reason, and I think it’s time we focus on that instead of measuring who has the bigger di— mansion.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at Hawk’s blunt assessment. He did have a way of cutting through bullshit which I admired.

“Vince,” Hawk continued, turning to face me, “I know you’ve got no love for Zotov, but hear him out. The intel he’s brought could be crucial.”

I raised an eyebrow at Hawk.

He nodded, his expression serious. “You want to hear what he has to say.”

I let out a long breath, weighing my options. Hawk wasn’t one to exaggerate, and if he vouched for the information, it was probably at least worth listening to. Still, the idea of working with Zotov made my skin crawl.

“Fine,” I growled, fixing Zotov with a hard stare. “But this better be good, or I’ll personally show you the door. And trust me, you won’t like my method of escorting you out.”

Zotov’s smirk didn’t waver, but I caught a flicker of something in his eyes. Respect? Amusement? It was hard to tell with this guy.

Hawk clapped his hands together. “Great. Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s get down to business. Max, why don’t you patch Vince up while we talk? No sense in letting him bleed all over the furniture.”

I looked down at my arm, and Hawk was right. Somehow Donnelly managed to make that damn wound bleed even more than before.

Max stepped closer. “Lose the shirt, then we’ll see what we’re dealing with.” I settled back into the sofa, never taking my eyes off Zotov, who took a seat on the opposite side, next to Donnelly.

Whatever information he had, I would never take it at face value.

And whatever game he was playing, it was time for me to finally catch up and then get a couple of steps ahead.

“Spill,” I said while glaring at Zotov, not that it had any effect on him. He shouldn’t be this calm. Not with at least ten of my guys in the room, all ready to kill him at my command without even blinking an eye.

Zotov stared back at me, but there was something in his eyes before he opened his mouth. Something almost like…sympathy, which I did not expect.

The room fell silent, everyone focused on us.

He locked his gaze onto mine, and I leaned forward, my eyes never leaving his face as he began to speak. “Your father, Alfredo Salvini, has put out a contract on you,” he said, his voice unnervingly calm.

My jaw clenched, but I kept my face impassive. “A contract?” I’d always known my father was a bastard, but this? This was a new low.

Zotov continued, “He’s hired two separate teams. The first one to kidnap you and the next one to take you out directly. The attack on the rooftop? That was the first team.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. My own father had tried to have me kidnapped? What for? “Quite a flashy way to pull that off; they could’ve chosen a much less costly, much less obvious way.”

“Well, it’s Father, after all,” Dante chimed in and settled next to me on the couch .

“Maybe he thought you’d cave and back off if he made it a big enough spectacle,” Matt said.

Donnelly’s mouth hung open as his focus ping-ponged from Dante to Matt. He looked like he was in utter disbelief.

If my family would be like any other, that disbelief would’ve been warranted. But this wasn’t even surprising.

I’d worked my butt off to gain more and more power in the family while my father focused on whoring around and drinking with his cronies, who became fewer and fewer. Apparently, he was finally feeling the heat of me breathing down his neck.

I thought his alliance with Zotov was my father finally waking up and focusing back on the business, but apparently, that wasn’t what he was focused on. Part of me always knew my father got off on cruelty. He simply had no feelings or empathy for anyone.

Playing dirty tricks and humiliating someone to make himself better was always his way to go. And he didn’t differentiate even when it came to his own children. Though hearing it confirmed was something else entirely.

If it was the truth. I focused back on Zotov, who was still staring at me. How did he know, and how much did he know? “Why?” I managed to ask, my voice rougher than I’d intended.

Zotov’s eyes flickered with something that looked almost like pity. “Power, of course. Your father fears you’re becoming too influential, too respected within the organization. He believes you’re planning to take over and push him out.”

I scoffed. “I’ve been trying to push him out of the family business for years. Why now? ”

“Alfredo doesn’t see it that way,” Zotov replied. “He’s convinced you all are plotting against him.” He let his gaze sweep over Matt to my left, then me, and Hero who was standing behind me to Dante next to me. “The second team he’s hired…they’re not just after you. They’re targeting everyone close to you—your brothers, your sisters…Jemma.”

At the mention of Jemma’s name, I felt my blood run cold. The thought of her being in danger because of me, because of my father’s paranoia, made me want to tear the room apart.

“How do you know all this?” I demanded, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Zotov leaned back into the cushions. “I have my sources. Let’s just say your father isn’t as discreet as he thinks he is. And I kept an eye on him after he approached me to hire me for his little coup. He thought I’d jump at the chance to cause some chaos.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t?”

A small smile played at the corners of Zotov’s mouth. “Contrary to what you might think of me, I do have some principles. Betraying family isn’t my style. Besides,” he added, his tone turning serious, “your father’s plan is shortsighted and dangerous. It would destabilize the entire East Coast underworld. That’s not beneficial for anyone.”

He kept his gaze locked on me, and silence stretched between us. So that was his motive? Because it would destabilize the area? That was a very weird concern for a Russian Bratva boss, whose entire reputation was built on creating localized chaos, causing only gradual change on a global scale.

So, was this what was behind his actions? Or was he straight-up pitching my father and me against each other, trying to stir up shit?