Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“You were a good son, and I’m sorry Father and Mother never saw that. I’m sorry they hurt you. I’ll never leave your side.”
Amara went over and wrapped her arms around Gio from his side. It took every ounce of my strength to stay put and not do the same. I glanced at my brothers, and thankfully, they were too focused on their wives to see the love I had for my Italian fighter that was no doubt clearly displayed in my expression.
“I love you, fratellone. We’re family, and we love you. You’re not alone.”
I held back my tears as Claudia said those words to Gio.
She and Amara pulled away, and Gio cupped one of Claudia’s cheeks and did the same to Amara with his other hand. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, painful smile. “La mia famiglia.” My family.
And then he lifted his head and looked right at me, his stare hard and clear, and one that my brothers most certainly saw, if the pressure increasing in the room was anything to go by.
La mia famiglia, Gio, I thought. You’re my family now, too.
27
TATIANA
Ifound myself back at Butcher and Son an hour after I left with my brothers.
With my guards thinking I was tucked away in bed, I had all night to do anything and everything I wanted with him.
I pushed through the thinning crowd. A few groups still lingered to watch the remaining fights, but most left after the main event with D’yavol.
It was reckless to come here alone, where danger lurked in every shadow, especially after what happened last time. But I couldn’t stay away from him. Despite my fear, I felt an unfamiliar strength settle over me, empowering me in a way I couldn’t explain.
I wasn’t hiding who I was. Anyone in this basement could see my face and instantly know I was the sister of the infamous Petrov brothers, rulers of the Bratva in Desolation. They knew crossing me was a death sentence.
But the man who hurt me before knew exactly who I was, who my brothers were, and he still didn’t care.
I forced those thoughts away. I didn’t have time for fear or logic. All that mattered was being with Gio. And even though this place had haunted me, I felt different today. I felt strong.
I placed a hand on my belly and felt a flutter of my nerves.
I still hadn’t told Gio—or anyone, for that matter—about the pregnancy. I didn't know when I would, but I was certain I had to do it sooner rather than later.
The closer I got to where I knew Gio was, the more excited I became. I felt like I was addicted, needing a rush that only one person could give me.
I kept to the dirty concrete wall as I made my way to the back where the locker room was. I knew there were men here who were working for my brothers. They patrolled the area and kept everyone in check, but they were easy to spot, so I kept away from them. I didn't need them calling my siblings.
I pushed open the door and stepped into the room, closing it behind me and leaning against it as I took in the dark area.
A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, casting this weird glow that made eerie shadows.
I could hear the showers running off to my right and moved toward the short hallway without thinking. The door that led into the washroom was partially open, steam billowing out. Although this place was bare bones and rundown compared to what it used to be, they had reinforced and updated the bowels of Butcher and Son to conduct their business dealings.
I silently stepped inside, the warmth and humidity immediately surrounding me.
It took a moment for my vision to adjust to the foggy interior, but when it did, I spotted the person I came here to see standing under the spray of a showerhead.
Despite it being hours after we saw Gio fight, I knew he probably destroyed several more men in the ring after we left and was just now washing that violence off.
The room had a toilet and urinal to the right. To the left was a large shower with white tile covering the walls and floor, and three showerheads were positioned five feet apart. All clearly updated.
My heart was in my throat as I stared at Gio’s back. All that hard, tattooed flesh had my body warming, softening, and getting wetter than the water soaking him.
God, I was already drenched.
I shamelessly let my gaze travel down his broad shoulders, defined back, and stared at his
ass. He was so muscular everywhere, the percentage of his body fat no doubt miniscule.
He had his hands braced on the wall in front of him, his head lowered, the water turning pink from the blood of other men he beat the shit out of before disappearing down the drain by his feet.