His Stolen Bride - MINK Page 0,1

be easy. “A Carrera.” I scrub a hand down my face, then hitch a thumb at the soldier. “Get the fuck out of here. See what Lucenzo needs.”

He takes off at a jog as I try to think of a way out of this. But thinking isn’t my strong suit. I can strategize, and I can put violence into action, but I’m not the detail guy. Even so, I’m smart enough to know I can’t fuck this up. The Davincis are the most powerful family in Italy, but the Carreras are a close second. How the fuck did that limpdick Giuseppe land a Carrera bride?

You can do this. I shake out my scarred fists like I’m about to enter a brawl. She’s a woman. I can talk her into anything, including opening the door. She’s terrified. Hiding. I need to take a gentler approach with the sweet little fawn inside this room.

I reach up and knock softly. “Ms. Carrera. My name is Santino Baldoni. I know you’re frightened by all that’s happened, but I want to assure you that I mean you no harm, and that I would like to offer my condolences on the death of your hus—”

When a bullet flies through the door and whizzes past my head, I drop to the floor. And when I hear her war cry of, “Come any closer to my fucking door, and I will mow you in half with this semi-automatic!”

It’s then that I know my little fawn is another animal altogether.

One with fangs.

And claws.

2

Bella

Santino Baldoni. My mind races to try to place the name. I know it, but I can’t seem to picture him or where he’s connected. I look over my shoulder at Leo. I can tell he’s searching his mind, too. I keep my gun trained on the door.

Saldoni? I mouth to him. I’m sure his mind is as scattered as mine is right now. Everything happened so fast. Adrenaline is still wreaking havoc on us. He shakes his head minutely.

My eyes fall to my younger sister Gianna, who has tears streaming down her beautiful face. She’s always been the more emotional one. I have a feeling the baby we found out she’s carrying a few weeks ago isn't helping the matter. For any of us really. I thought I was protective over my sister before. This is something else altogether.

“Did he say Giuseppe’s dead?” Gianna asks softly. If it’s true, it’s a pity we can’t celebrate right now. All in all, it’s not shocking. I’ve only been here a few weeks, and I’ve seen so many holes in the security. I’d been planning to use some of those openings myself to get my sister out of here. My father won't be selling her off next. But now, whoever this asshole on the other side of the door is has gone and ruined that for me. For her.

My hand tightens around the gun, my anger growing by the second. Gianna calls me fearless. She says I can always stay calm and do the responsible thing, whereas she shows every emotion right there on her face for the world to see. She can’t help it. She’s so full of life. Something that a man like my dead husband and the man on the other side of this door would crush. In order to do so, whoever it is will first have to get through me. No one, and I mean no one touches my sister.

I am always slow when it comes to my emotions. My brain gets in the way, always trying to process what’s happening. Thinking of a plan or watching one unfold in front of me. It’s kept me alive thus far. I lick my lips, my tongue gliding over my cracked lip that is still trying to heal from my late husband. He struck me to get a reaction. He hadn't gotten one. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

It’s likely the reason I was allowed to marry Giuseppe. I volunteered. He asked for Gianna. How could he not? She is breathtaking. I begged my father to let me do it. He agreed, knowing I wouldn't put up a fight if I was volunteering and that I would give the little man hell.

Gianna, though, would’ve broken. She’d have been drugged to even get up to the altar. Leo would have been dead, unable to stand by while she married another. They’ve kept their love secret so long. Her marrying Giuseppe never would have worked. I would have