Not Mine to Keep (The Costa Family)

“Checking on you. You good?”

At the sound of Gabriel’s voice on the other side of the door, I hopped off the bed and hurried over to let him in. “I’ll be better if you have news.” My heart was going to break a rib with how hard it’d been pounding as I’d stared at my phone for the last few hours, waiting for confirmation Alessandro was alive.

Once in the room, Gabriel flipped open his laptop, hit a few buttons, then spun it around to show me the screen.

“What am I looking at?” I leaned in closer, taking in the sight of people running every which way in chaos. Not the most comforting view.

“I hacked into the cameras outside the nightclub on the street level to see what’s going on,” Gabriel shared, then with his free hand, he pointed at someone on camera getting onto a motorcycle. A few seconds later, police cars were following him.

“Who’s that?” It didn’t look like Alessandro, but the angle wasn’t great. “Do you have good news or not?” My patience had left my body about three days ago, so . . .

“That’s Constantine Costa. My guess is he used himself as bait so the others could escape the club unnoticed. You know, so Alessandro can make it back to you. Typical Constantine. Sacrificing himself.” He looked at the screen, then caught my eye as I digested the news. “We haven’t confirmed yet if the target is down, but I have to assume everything went as planned. Well, mostly everything. Winding up in a police chase means something went sideways.”

Sideways? “So you haven’t heard from Alessandro?”

“Not yet. They’re probably still trying to put some distance between themselves and the crime scene. But I did get word League members were spotted at the club.”

“Is that good or bad?” Shit, I needed to sit.

“If Alessandro completed Armani’s task, it was most likely purposeful The League opted to be seen on camera. Helps cement the idea the DiMaggios are in league with, well, The League.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, that makes sense,” I murmured, my head spinning as I finally sat.

Gabriel followed me over, but before he could sit, an uninvited visitor joined us.

“I thought he kicked you out,” I said at the sight of Marcello barging in.

“He came to his senses, realizing I’m like a son and he can trust me,” Marcello said, eyes snapping to Gabriel. “What are you doing alone with her?” He snatched the laptop from Gabriel.

“She wanted to see her aunt,” Gabriel gritted out, and it was obvious he was doing his best not to take the laptop back and hit Marcello over the head with it.

If only you could.

Marcello checked the screen before chucking the computer onto the bed, and I stole a look at it to see Gabriel had changed the view to the cruise ship, where my aunt was enjoying a midnight party on the top deck.

Fast fingers. Thank God. “What are you doing in my room?” I stood, forcing my legs to behave and be steady so I could face off with a man who, in truth, scared the hell out of me. Maybe even more than Armani did, because at least I knew Armani wanted me alive.

Marcello grunted, displeased with my very existence, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder as Armani joined us. “Costa pulled it off,” Marcello added under his breath. “Esposito and his second-in-command are dead.”

“And is Alessandro okay?” I asked Armani as he worked the knot of his tie loose.

“Haven’t heard from him yet. But looks like Costa beat the suitor I’d hoped you’d marry to the punch in killing the targets,” Armani shared, and I faltered at the second part of what he’d said.

“Wait, you sent Rocco Barone there, too?” Gabriel pushed his hands into his pockets, his forehead creasing as he stared at his boss, mirroring my own shock. “Rocco is in Rome?”

“You don’t need to know everything I plan.” Armani wrapped a hand over Gabriel’s shoulder. “But of course, I had to give him a chance as well.”

“Looks like the best man won, then,” I couldn’t help but remark, hating the idea Rocco was currently in the same city as Alessandro. What if that monster was why I’d yet to hear back from Alessandro?

“You should’ve told me.” Gabriel backed away from Armani’s touch, eyes on Marcello now. “And the fact you let him back in your home when he has the most to gain from her death . . .”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

“Watch yourself.” Marcello stretched his neck, tugging on the lapels of his suit jacket as if itching to strangle the life from Gabriel. Or more like me.

“You two were like brothers before—”

“She came into your life,” Marcello cut Armani off, earning him a sharp look from his boss. “Rocco is the better choice. I stand by that.”

“And he lost. If he can’t kill the man who tried to murder my daughter, then he can’t protect her when one day I’m not around to do so.” The idea of needing Armani’s protection was insane; I wanted nothing to do with him or his empire. If only he didn’t care so much about his bloodline, I could make him see that, make him understand I could never be like him or replace him. “I’ll be notifying the Barones the deal with their family is off. Calliope will marry Alessandro.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and produced his phone. “An unknown number calling. Answer it.” His attention volleyed between Gabriel and Marcello as if unsure who he wanted on the call, then he tossed the phone to Gabriel.

Gabriel brought the phone to his ear and quickly shared, “It’s Emilia Calibrisi on the line, and she wants a word.”

Armani looked at me instead of taking the phone from him. “Tomorrow morning, you get fitted for your wedding dress. You’re to be married in the church where I wed my wife. No formal reception. Just dinner. Then straight to consummating your marriage.”

“Wait, what?” Consummate? “You can’t be serious.”

Armani snatched the phone from Gabriel but didn’t bring it to his ear. “I need you to take this seriously. Tomorrow night, you’ll start the process of providing me with a grandson.”

The process? “Sex,” I cried under my breath. “You can’t even say it yourself. You don’t want your own men checking me out in a dress, but you think you can force me to—”

“There are more efficient ways the doctors can ensure you wind up pregnant. The choice is yours.” Armani then brought the phone to his ear, talking in Italian on his way out.

“Artificial insemination or your future husband,” Marcello, the prick, remarked, as if I couldn’t read between the disgusting lines. “Your choice.” He looked to Gabriel and hissed, “Stop treating her like glass. If she’s going to become the head of this organization, she needs to toughen up. And if you ever come after me again or try to get Armani to turn on me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

Chills racked my spine as I watched Marcello leaving. “He can’t force me to get pregnant.”

Gabriel reached for my arm, urging me to sit, but I could barely budge, too repulsed and shocked. “At least Alessandro is the one marrying you tomorrow and not that psychopath. Well, as long as he—”

“Makes it out of Rome alive?”