Have clapped my hands at him from the door.
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.—Robert Frost
I ran home to change clothes since everyone had decided to crash at Nixon’s again, and lucky me, I’d had my own personal escort who didn’t even have to type in 666.
Breaker was back to his quiet, reserved self during the car ride. Then again, after this afternoon, how could any of us feel anything except relief and sadness at the same time?
“Pretty crazy, huh?” I asked. My small talk was the absolute worst, but I wanted to at least hear him do something other than grunt.
“Life is crazy… it makes you want to get high and shoot birds,” he grumbled.
“Breaker?”
“That’s my name, isn’t it…?” His jaw flexed like he was clenching his teeth. Even in the darkness, I could make out the strong aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, and thick, shiny hair, which was a bit of a mess from him running his hands through it. “Shit.”
“Breaker?”
“God, could you just stop saying my name for one second?” he snapped, his green eyes nearly feral as they pinned me in place.
For the first time in a year, I felt actual fear, but it wasn’t from the men who had taken me. It was from the one who had saved me, and I couldn’t figure out why I suddenly felt like puking, or why he looked so lethal when he was supposed to be the one keeping me safe.
I reached across the leather seat and put my hand on his muscled thigh, my palm pressed against his slacks, feeling the heat from his skin pulse through my body. “Something’s wrong… you know you can talk to me, right?”
He hung his head and put his hand on mine. “I’m sorry, it’s not you, I’m just—”
“Not good,” I joked. “Gonna turn into a werewolf or something? Hope you brought more pants because you’re about to just morph right out of those tight slacks you’re wearing.”
He smiled down at our hands. “First off, I told you what would happen if you mentioned it again, so prepare to fight me off, and for the love of God, get that eager grin off your face before I take my knife to your dress here and slice from slit to neck.” He sighed. “Second, you’d know if I was a werewolf.”
“Ohhhh right, because in the mafia we’re raised to know the difference between a mere mortal and a wolf, totally.” I nodded in mock agreement.
“Ha-ha,” he squeezed my hand then lifted it to his mouth.
“You’d know because I would have bitten you already… we both know my self-control is at negative ten when it comes to you.”
“Wow, negative ten, I had no idea you even knew how to count back that far, Breaker. Just full of surprises.”
He nipped at my fingertips, then kissed the palm of my hand and brought it to the side of his face as he sighed and whispered, “You have no idea.”
“Are you okay though?” I frowned as he held my hand there, keeping it prisoner as he squeezed his eyes shut like he couldn’t bear to look at me.
“I’m tired,” he finally said after a few tense seconds. “Just really tired… of everything.”
“It’s okay to be tired.”
“Not when I’m trying to protect you, Vi—never when I’m trying to protect you.”
He dropped my hand softly and turned to stare out the window, ending the conversation and making me even more worried.
The SUV pulled up to my massive brick mansion. My dad had built it originally for his deceased wife,
Mil De Lange. She’d single-handedly destroyed the De Lange family by doing a deal with the Petrovs without realizing that Andrei was playing both sides and that he was half Italian, meaning his loyalty was always to us and ours to him.
So when she got greedy and messy—
she was killed.
My dad didn’t talk about that night, but the rumors said that her guilt was too great, that she was too wounded, and that at the end, it was Phoenix, her older brother, who had pulled the trigger so my dad wouldn’t have to.
Because no matter how much you love someone, a rat is a rat, and you exterminate rats regardless of how much you like to keep company.
I sighed as the driver came around to open my door. Breaker slid out behind me, typing away on his phone like I didn’t just have my legs spread for him a few hours ago—like we didn’t have a moment in the car.
What the hell was wrong with him?
I took two steps and stopped, and he ran into my back. “Vi? What’s up? Your own personal werewolf needs something to drink.”
“We have company,” I whispered in horror as both Phoenix and Andrei got out of the black Denali and stared us down.
“Fuck,” Breaker said, radiating instant tension from behind me. “Whatever happens, just know—”
“What do you mean, whatever happens?” I hissed. “They’re family.”
He was being crazy, right? A side effect of his exhaustion? Of being a werewolf? I joked to myself to keep from panicking.
Because those two together did not mean happy endings or beginnings. We all knew that.
“Innocent little Violet Abandonato,” Breaker sighed. “With her fuck-me heels, white dresses, and incredible smile—you know nothing.”
Hurt knifed through me, so sharp it must have shown on my face, but he ignored it, shoving me behind him and approaching both men with confidence in his swagger.
Breaker had always been strikingly beautiful, too pretty for words.
But right now, he seemed like someone else—someone meant for pain, someone who was suffering, or someone who maybe just did a good job handing it out.
I rarely saw that side.
I thought he was protecting me. Now I wondered if he was just hiding.
“Gentleman.” Breaker shoved his hands into his black slacks. “Something you need?”
“More like…” Another person got out of the car. “Someone.”
What the hell was going on?
“Violet,” Nikolai Blazik, the smartest doctor in the world and the “doctor” for the Russian mafia, gave me a cold smile. “It seems like your number has unfortunately been called up—both of you, in the SUV, now.”
“No,” Breaker took a step toward him but was held back by Andrei.
“Yes,” Nikolai’s blue eyes fell a bit as he looked between us. “I’m sorry, but we can’t forget that night happened, and because of that night, she’s officially betrothed.”
“The fuck she is!” Breaker roared. “It wasn’t even him!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nikolai snapped right back. “An agreement in blood is an agreement till death, and unless you want the world to know your secret…”
“What secret?” I asked in a shaky voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Never!” he snapped. “That would be more of a death sentence, and you know it!”
Nikolai shrugged. “That’s your choice then?”
“It was my choice then; it’s my choice now,” Breaker ground out. “Protect her at all costs even if that means I protect her from me.”
I let out a little gasp. “Stop being ridiculous. You would never hurt me!”
Andrei and Phoenix shared a look I couldn’t decipher before Andrei stepped forward. “You have my word, you’ll be safe; we just have a few things to discuss.”
“Safe…” I gulped. “Where?”
“Besides,” he added with a casual shrug, “it will be quick. It’s just an alliance. We’ve drawn up the contracts, and once the ceremony is done, you can come back and visit. We’ll let everyone know you’re headed to Seattle for a few months to continue studying beneath Nikolai for pre-med. It’s the perfect cover…”
He nodded to Phoenix, who opened up a black file and held it out to her.
“Your fiancé.”
“I don’t understand.” My hands shook as I accepted the folder. “I’m not marrying anyone!”
“You have no choice,” Phoenix said in a sad voice. “We gave you close to a year, but the minute you walked out of that club…” He eyed Breaker briefly before saying, “You leave now to make preparations.”
“But—”
“Now and then in a week, we’ll host a going-away party for the Abandonato Princess,” Phoenix said in a voice that meant no arguing, and I stood there, black folder in hand, wondering how my life had spun so out of control, and so incredibly fast.
It was supposed to be that one time. It was supposed to be okay now.
I was supposed to be safe.
Shaking, I stared down at the blurry photo, which was strange in and of itself. Why would the face be blurred out? My stomach dropped to my knees as I read the small amount of information in front of me.
Valerian Petrov. Twenty years old. That was it.
I knew nothing else except for the way his kiss tasted, and how rough his hands were as they pressed me into the bed.
The folder fell from my hands onto the cement.
I wanted to run, but I was paralyzed. “What if I say no?” I whispered, staring down at the cement by my feet; a chill racked my body. “What if I run?”
Nikolai was the first to answer. “There is no running from this, Violet. For what it’s worth, I am sorry. We all are, but it’s the only way, and we need to keep the Petrovs in place; Andrei can only do so much here in Chicago.
The Family is large enough that they’re constantly trying to plan a coup, even with someone like Andrei in charge.”
“Right.” I licked my lips. “So, I’m going to be the ultimate sacrifice just to keep some greedy old men happy?”
Next to me, Breaker shook; his hands dangled at his sides, his fingers trembling like he was about to ball them into fists and punch someone, or maybe he would just pass out.
The wind picked up, worsening the sickening chill in my heart, sucking out the last pieces of my soul. Nobody answered. Which was my answer, wasn’t it?
“We all make sacrifices,” I said in a hollow voice, “for the Family. I guess this is mine.”
“Violet—” Breaker grabbed my hand, but I gently pulled away and looked up into the eyes of the men who’d sworn to protect me, the ones now handing me over to another Family.
“Anything else? Because I’d like to have some time alone to process.” I sounded calm on the outside, but on the inside, I was twisted, a bit broken, and trying to figure out why my chest felt like it had been cracked in half and put back together backward.
“For now, just get in the SUV.” Nikolai backed away, and I had no choice but to follow, hands shaking at my sides as a pissed-off Breaker got in after me. The car ride was fast.
And then I was staring up at Nikolai’s private jet. “Why are we going now?”
“Because I can’t keep you safe anymore here in Chicago, and your family can’t know about any of this,” he said sadly, his dark brows drawing together.
“It looks less suspicious if Breaker’s with you—you’ll be visiting different universities under the guise of studying in Seattle, he’ll accompany you, and then you’ll return—decision made—ready to say goodbye to everyone and everything you’ve ever known.”
My throat closed up as I reached for Breaker’s hand.
He took mine and squeezed; by the tick in his jaw, I knew he was ready to fight, but I needed him calm because if he wasn’t, I was afraid that I would snap, and if I snapped, I might not ever be able to put myself back together again.
“Fine.” I licked my dry lips and made my way up the stairs of the G6, gripping Breaker’s hand the entire way.
We were, of course, offered champagne once we were on board. I took two glasses, Breaker grabbed the bottle, and without even asking, we moved to the master bedroom.
He closed the door and locked it while I started chugging the champagne like it was water.
When I was done with both glasses, he handed me the bottle, left for a few seconds, and came back with another one of whiskey.
“Ah, starting in on the hard stuff already?” I tried teasing.
He said nothing, just stared down at the bottle in his hands. “This is my fault.”
“Breaker, it’s not—”
“—it fucking is.” He snorted. “I didn’t save you, Violet, why am I always too late? Why am I always in the wrong? You know why I’ve been different since that night?” His emerald-green eyes met mine, blazing with fury. “Because I can’t fucking look at you without feeling like I failed.”
“You didn’t fail me.”
He opened the bottle and tipped it back, his throat moving, making him look powerful, sensual as he drank deep and then wiped the back of his mouth with his hand.
I got up and walked over to him, then very slowly hiked up my skirt and straddled his lap. I gripped his chin with my fingertips and stared into his eyes. He looked so regal sitting there, his jaw tight, his eyes furious as he stared me down.
“What do you need, Vi? What can a man like me give you that you don’t already have?” He tried to jerk away from my hold, but I wouldn’t let him, which just seemed to piss him off more. “Vi—”
I cut off his protest with a kiss.
He gripped my sides, digging his hands into my skin like he wanted to mark me as his tongue clashed with mine. He tasted like whiskey. He tasted like wicked, sweaty nights and lazy days in bed.
“You can make me forget,” I said against his mouth. “And you can make me remember why it’s only ever been you.”
He sighed, resting his forehead against mine. “We were damned from the start.”
Panic rose in my chest. “Let’s think about now, not about a week from now.”
He picked me up and tossed me onto the bed, then hovered over me, his hair a mess, his eyes practically glowing. “You aren’t mine anymore, Vi. Don’t you get it?” He looked crazed. “You’re not mine!” He jerked away from me then and went over to the wall, punching it twice before falling to his knees. “Sleep.”
“I can’t—not without you,” I whispered through the tears that slid down my cheeks. “Please?”
“I won’t sleep next to you, Vi. My heart is having trouble processing what my brain is telling it—that no matter what I’ve always told myself, you’ve never been mine.
If I sleep next to you, I’ll want to hold you, I’ll want to comfort you, I’ll want to mark you, and then I’ll make my second mistake when it comes to touching you. I’ll wrong you, I’ll wrong what you have…”
“Please, Breaker… Please.” I broke out into a quiet sob.
He was at my side in an instant.
And what was supposed to be a torturous week of looking at different Seattle colleges and being photographed with Nikolai—went off like lightning.
Before we knew it, we were landing back in Chicago. Breaker hadn’t as much as looked at me the entire trip. He did, however, manage to plan a going-away party for me that night; we had enough time to go to my house to change after the plane landed, and then we were expected back at Nixon’s.
My stomach sank. This was it. This was my life now. It was built around lies.
Around a broken heart. Around a broken Breaker. Numb, my legs took me down the stairs and into the waiting SUV with Andrei waiting—and in his hands a black box as if to warn us that things could, in fact, get worse.
Breaker sat next to me speechless, hard, like a complete stranger. Like he had no choice but to hate because love was killing him from the inside out. “I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Nikolai nodded once we were back at my house. “Pack light.”
“Why? Because your G6 is hauling weapons or something and has no space?” Andrei joked.
“Actually, yes. As you know, ammo is quite heavy.”
Nikolai examined his fingertips and then reached across the seat and grabbed the black box Andrei had brought into the car. It looked like a sleek tattoo gun.
He motioned for us all to get out of the SUV. Shaking, I did just that while he rummaged with the gun behind me.
Something clicked, making me jump as I took a step back and collided with Breaker.
“Your hand, please,” Nikolai held out his palm.
“Why?”
“Breaker, grab her hand, please, the left,” Nikolai ignored me, and of course, loyal Breaker grabbed my left hand and placed it in Nikolai’s palm. “Don’t move.”
I was right.
It was a cordless tattoo gun, small; he turned it on, and suddenly needles were diving into my pale skin. It was over in less than a minute. Extremely small. Hardly noticeable.
But I knew what it was the minute I saw the black swirl.
Valerian Petrov had just marked me without even being there—with the mark of a sickle.
The brand of the Petrovs.
I was no longer Violet Abandonato. I was his.
“You should pack,” Breaker said in a wooden voice. “Then, you should probably tell the rest of the cousins how excited you are to be studying in Seattle.”
He sneered as he paced my room, pulling out luggage and tossing shoes inside without even asking.
His steps were purposeful. His eyes laser-focused on getting rid of me.
It stung more than I cared to admit.
That my protector, my friend, the guy I’d been half in love with for most of my life, was so easily handing me over to another.
“Breaker, can we talk?”
He breezed right past me toward my dresser. When he jerked open the drawer, he nearly knocked it over with his force. Then he started pulling out T-shirts, a few pairs of jeans.
“Breaker!”
He shoved the drawer shut; the few pictures on top of the dresser fell over and broke, including one of us together last Thanksgiving. It had been my favorite because it was the first time we’d kissed in a while, and that kiss had turned into a bit of a make-out session that still made me hot.
“What?” Breaker roared, jolting me back to the present. He was facing away from me, the broken picture forgotten. His hands gripped the dresser until his fingertips turned white.
“What do you want to talk about? Because the way I see it, you’re leaving. No arguments because Violet Abandonato doesn’t argue, she doesn’t fight, she just does as she’s told like a good little girl—”
I threw a heel at his head without warning. It barely glanced off his shoulder and dropped to the floor.
“The hell!
He spun around in time for my follow-up throw and ducked to the side, but this time I’d been aiming for his dick. It narrowly missed his thigh and landed next to its mate.
Why did I have to be the only one who had bad aim in the entire family?
“Missed.” He glared. “Unless you were trying to aim for the dresser. Then—just kidding, you missed that too.”
“Ugh!” I stomped my foot. “Why can’t you just… I don’t know, talk to me! You never talk to me anymore!”
Tears slid down my cheeks. “Y-yes. I want you to say all those things, and then I want you to kiss me and tell me everything’s going to be okay when we both know it will never be the same.”
It took two large strides, and then he was pulling me into his arms, kissing my cheeks, healing my tears.
I pressed my hand against his chest. His heart was racing almost as fast as mine was, and then his mouth was moving down my neck. “I lost you before I even had you.”
“You’ll always have me, Breaker,” I vowed.
He stilled. “No, you belong to another, meaning this will never be the same between us.”
“I’ll cheat,” I whispered against his mouth. “I’ll come back to you. I’ll never be his.”
“Don’t.” He stopped kissing me and stepped away, his green eyes bright with rage. “Cheating gets you killed.”
“Then…” I licked my lips. “Have me one last time. Give me at least that.”
His eyes lowered to the tattoo on my left ring finger.
“You were his the minute that tattoo was drawn on. Had I known this was going to happen tonight, I would have kicked out the driver, then driven in the opposite direction—maybe even off a cliff—but never toward your house, not with you in the SUV, not with my heart cracking with each breath I take.”
“Breaker.” I sobbed against his chest. “Please, just one last time, please!”
“You made a vow,” he said in a dead voice. “Besides, there’s someone else.”
“Wh-what?” I jerked back. “You started dating someone in the last week? We’ve been in Seattle, you jackass! What do you mean there’s someone else?”
His eyes were dead. “It was fun, Vi. But we both need to move on.”
I reared back and slapped him so hard my palm stung. He didn’t react, just let me hit him over and over again, and each time he squeezed his eyes shut—like he deserved it.
“Enough,” he finally said. “You know this is for the best. A clean cut always is; the knife hurts too bad when it’s dull, Vi. I don’t think I could bear it.”
I stumbled away from him, my tears falling in rapid succession as he walked back to my dresser and continued pulling clothes out.
And then, after a few minutes of silently crying, I went to my closet and did exactly as he said. Maybe it was good I didn’t have one last moment in his arms. Because one moment reminded me of the moments taken from me—a lifetime of smiles from Breaker, a lifetime of kisses.
Stolen by a man I barely knew.
One I hated. And one... I would try to kill.
Because I wanted Breaker. And if he wouldn’t fight for us, I would.
I’d crawl back to him, not the pure Violet Abandonato he was used to.
I’d come back on my knees in my husband’s blood—let him be the sacrificial lamb.
It was time for me to be the one holding the knife.
It was time to be made.
