Page 31 of Vicious Kingdom (Dynasty of Queens #3)

“ C iao, fratello,” I called out, clattering down the stairs.

Sandro tore his gaze from his wife and the baker to stare at me.

Surprise and caution flickered through his face.

Had he forgotten about our meeting? That was hard to believe, since the IRS sent yet another letter to Baldwin Acquisitions.

As I feared, our trust was now under suspicion, and we were going to spend the evening going over the accounts, making sure there wasn’t a single red flag for them to dig up.

“What are you doing here?” he clipped out in Italian.

At his words, my chest fell. The man was so wrapped up in his wife that he’d forgotten about his own brother. The appointment we’d set. Our business. I was an afterthought.

Battling back the hurt, I answered in our native tongue.

“Having a date with my fiancée. Hey, funny thing old Tony told me. Did you know she was Serena’s friend?

They went to school together. They hung out all the time.

And…funnily enough…she’s been coming to this bakery, has had Tony wrapped around her little finger… for years. Years , Sandro.”

My brother was at a loss for words. He stood there, staring back at me. He knew. It was there in his eyes. He knew about Annaliese, and he’d never said a damn word.

“What kind of a dumbass are you?” Penelope rolled her eyes at me. Her pronunciation was less than perfect, but the meaning came across as she struggled through the romance language. “You didn’t realize your girl was our friend? Whose fault is that?”

“Vespina,” Sandro warned.

“No, I’m serious, Alessio.” Penelope switched to English. “He’s your own brother. And he didn’t know Serena and Anna were besties? That she’s my friend now too? That’s on him. Not you.”

Her words struck.

It was true. I distanced myself so far from the mob that I was absent from the day-to-day life of my own family. They lived a full life, and for everyone’s safety, I wasn’t part of that.

“What do we do now?” Sandro cautioned.

“Well, she’s here to meet with you, Alessio. Might as well spill the family tea, so the secrets are in the open,” Penelope drawled, pushing past her husband, and approached the stairs.

She was here to meet with Alessandro?

She’d said Penelope.

Another fucking lie.

My fingers fisted at my side, and my lungs drew in deep breaths as I battled the urge to hit something.

Sandro reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait, my little fireball. Leo? It’s your call. There might still be a way to play this off. Pretend that you don’t know that she knows who you are.”

Penelope snorted, but her husband’s grip tightened on her shoulder.

She knows who I am. All this time.

I growled, running a hand over my hair. Annaliese’s taste was still on my tongue. Worshipping her body was second nature. The memories of the past melded perfectly with the present. There was no letting her go. Not now, not with every fiber of my being screaming to take her again.

Plus, our wedding was happening—soon.

A wife who knows my secret.

There was no way to keep this charade up after today. But once again, I was reminded of the fact that I could never trust my wife. She was manipulative and secretive. A deadly combination.

And I’d just been played by her masterful hand.

“She knows who you are, Leo,” my brother murmured, confirming what I already knew in my heart. “She figured it out—years ago.”

Relief swept through me, bringing a sense of sweet calmness. She knew.

“Can I trust her?” The question was directed at the don.

But it was his wife who answered. “She’s been keeping our secret for the last five years.”

“And even if you fuck this up, Mancini, I would rather die than betray your family,” that sweet voice, full of determination, said behind me.

I looked up to the top of the stairs, and there she was, a vision.

Annaliese stood above like a goddess of war, with her hands fisted hard at her sides, a stance so full of determination and strength that it struck me straight through the heart.

This woman knew the unholy secrets of my life unsealed and laying bare.

And even though I wouldn’t admit it, she was the one who owned my very soul.

Mio dio, she was gorgeous. Unwavering, she stood there, stunning in a semi-dry tee shirt and simple blue jeans.

I took in every detail. Short, cropped hair mussed and tangled in wild abandon, eyes flashing with a fire so fierce it almost melted my resolve.

Tenacity was her armor, an unshakable certainty her shroud.

She was strong and frighteningly brilliant, and too good, too impossibly good for a man like me.

Why have I been fighting this attraction?

I knew the answer to that, of course. But right now, the reasons seemed weak and futile.

The don broke the chaos of my mind. “Let’s take this conversation to my office.”

We ascended the stairs, and Tony emerged, bringing up the rear. The faithful guard followed us and placed a tea service down on the side table. The smell of licorice root and peppermint perfumed the air.

Penelope hurried to pour, Annaliese glued to her side. They exchanged a handful of words in a hushed conversation.

My wife.

The words fit the scene.

The magnificent woman, so full of life, brought over a cup, the saucer balanced on her palms.

“Thank you,” I said gruffly.

Despite my rough tone, she smiled.

Fuck me. I was powerless against the pull of her.

“Anna, please, sit,” the don intoned, switching from brother to businessman. “I asked for this meeting because my wife suggested you might be able to help us with a little problem.”

“Anything.” Annaliese took her own cup of tea, sipped the steaming liquid, and winced.

I jolted. She’d burnt her tongue. That wicked little pink tongue that I wanted to feel against my own. To feel against my body.

But right now wasn’t the time.

Adjusting myself and struggling to hide the desire, I took a seat on a chair across the room. Distance—distance was good. It framed this scene in a different perspective.

“Callahan Voss is running for political office, and your father is his friend,” Sandro stated.

Annaliese nodded. “Dad’s ambitious. He’s been trying to get into politics for years, but the politicians keep using his media company then screwing him over.”

“I remember the mayor’s cleanup campaign. It came right after you left—for Germany, right?” Sandro steepled his hands, flicking a glance at where his wife perched on the edge of his desk.

“I was the one who warned Serena, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Annaliese sat up straighter. “I overheard a conversation, and I didn’t want anything to happen to my friend. To her family.”

I felt Anna’s attention and dropped my gaze to my own tea rather than meet her gaze. Reality was sinking in. There were moments, like earlier, where she was just Anna—the girl who I was infatuated with. And then there was this. The stark reminder of who she really was.

“Voss’s policies aren’t good. He’s been strong-arming a few players in the underworld, threatening to expose them if they don’t pay.” The don took a sip of his tea. “Blah! That’s disgusting.”

“It’s good for you.” Penelope patted his head. “Drink up. Can’t have you getting another chill.”

“Has he threatened you?” Annaliese leaned forward.

Her tone sounded genuine.

Years of business dealing honed my very being. Suspicion flickered through me. Fuck me, I didn’t want to feel that way! I wanted to believe she was invested in protecting our family. That she had kept our secrets and would continue.

But were we stupid for this blind trust?

“Not yet, but if he does, I want my own dirt on him,” the don said, getting to the heart of the matter. “It seems like your father’s company is covering up something, and I want to know what that is.”

Annaliese brightened. Her whole body came alive with the challenge. “I can snoop around! I rarely go to their offices, but I can. And Dad keeps his laptop at home, so it shouldn’t be too tricky to break into it.”

Cacchio! She was turning against her own family!

I set my teacup on the floor to keep it from rattling in my shaking grasp. What were we doing? This was madness! She would never choose us over blood. If Sandro wasn’t walking into a trap, he was setting himself up for one to be made. How could he sit there and trust her?

How could I?!

She lied once before.

She kept secrets.

This was too much. The feelings in my chest were conflicted. I was hopelessly and infinitely lost to her—daughter of our enemy.

“I have to go,” I said abruptly.

Three pairs of eyes focused on me as I rose.

“We have business to discuss,” the don started to say.

“Reschedule.” I moved to the door.

“It’s good you two are getting married,” my brother said, words slow and pointed. “There’ve been too many rumors about you, fratello.”

“There have always been whispers about me,” I snapped. “Nothing’s changed.” I gave Annaliese a pointed look.

“Nothing will change,” she said carefully. There was hurt lurking in her blue gaze. She no doubt sensed the shift in my mood.

As bad as it hurt, I forced myself to face her. To let the hurt create a pain in my own chest. It grounded me.

“Che cavolo?” Sandro snapped.

Yes, brother, what the fuck? “There are many envious bastards who suspect me of playing dirty,” I responded in Italian, wondering if Annaliese understood like the don’s wife. Now there would be another surprise. “How does this marriage squash those rumors?”

“You’re such an ass,” Penelope muttered.

Sandro groaned. “Your marriage will be a sensation, draw the spotlight off your sins.”

My marriage was going to be my greatest sin—never my salvation! Couldn’t he see that?

“You tell me to be careful, then you invite me to tempt fate? Which is it, Don Mancini?” I glared at him.

Annaliese sat there, watching me with those blistering blue eyes. Even now, as I fought to do the logical thing, I was powerless against her. She held my heart fast in her grip, inescapably bound to her with every fiber of my being, every cell in my body.

But my head came out the victor. “This will never work, Sandro.”

This marriage was supposed to be for personal reasons. And here, my strategically minded brother—and his wife—were spinning it into something good. Something useful. Fuck…. Now I couldn’t let them down, couldn’t disappoint them.

“Better to marry the enemy you know than a civilian you will forever keep secrets from,” the don said sagely.

Letting out a growl of frustration, I marched through the door. I was caught in this twisted mess, and it was going to damn us all. It was time to bury myself in work, ground my turbulent mind in something I was actually good at.