Deep Down
**MICKEY**
My blood is pumping ferociously in my chest by the time Bruno tells me he and the men have made it to Alex’s. I haven’t slept at all, and I’m sure it’s beginning to show on my face as I sit here and avoid Ana’s Romano’s eyes like the plague that they are.
I am *not* going to marry her. I am not. It wouldn’t be fair to her or my Doll if I did.
I am obsessed with Romany. Even more so since she chased me out into the driveway looking like a forgotten goddess and then forgave me for my time spent in her shadow.
If I marry at all it will be my Doll that I tie to my name. Nobody else. If she refuses me? I will simply *never* marry.
But none of that will happen at all unless I can retrieve her from this mess we are in and get her *away* from Ruby long enough to convince her to own me. It must be this way because I know I will never own *her.*
She is the one to own.
She commands *all* of us right down to our expensive Italian shoes. Or in some cases, like that of my insubordinate taxer’s, *right down to our much too comfortable boots.*
Tiny.
That fucking bastard.
If it weren’t for the fact that I know without a doubt that *he* would die before letting anyone harm my Doll, I’d be planning to kill him. But… I’m actually relieved that he acted ahead of us and has been able to watch over her from close to the beginning of this madness.
I cannot really fault him for chasing after her. For staying on her tail. And I’m not *mad* about it. Not really.
I’m furiously jealous instead. Tiny has every freedom that I do not. And… he’s *made* for the kind of work it’s going to take to get the upper hand that we are undoubtedly going to need to get through this.
“Here,” Alex says, creeping up next to me and slipping a piece of paper into my palm. “Send Bruno and your men to this address. Simone will stay with Luca. He will keep her busy until we return and can figure out what’s to be done with her.”
“What am I holding, Alex?” I sigh, gazing out into the rolling hilltops that wave across the landscape like an ocean of jungle green. It's gorgeous out here in New Zealand and I’m suddenly wondering why I’ve never visited until now.
Alex snorts, taking his time in answering as he guzzles down yet another glass of whiskey. “Emilia Angeletto’s current location. Send your men, snatch her out of her lover’s bed, and remand her to my home. To the box.”
My eyebrows spike up, a slow smile creeping up the sides of my face as I realize what I should have already known. My cousin, Alex, for all his idiocies… he always has a back-up plan. *Always.* The slimy fuck.
“Her lover’s bed? Not your bed.”
“Not my bed,” Alex confirms with a grin that would be better suited for a great white shark. “There should be enough dead bodies stashed in there by now to *truly* grab her attention. She should feel right as rain by the time we have her call her father.”
“Oh?” I reply. “And what of her strapping young lover?”
Alex chuckles, “Young lover? I was unaware she had two.”
I stare at him, slightly impressed, yet also disappointed. Alex must have dirt on Emilia, which means, although he may still intend to marry her, he also plans to continue fucking my Doll. Unlike Antony, Emilia has her father’s grace. She’s always been the picture of perfection and obedience. Her having a lover will decrease her value in his eyes tremendously. Does Berto love his daughter? Who knows? But Alex doesn’t operate on love anyway. He doesn’t plot schemes based on emotional attachments. He bases them solely on what makes a bastard tick. And for most of the bosses, it’s power.
Emilia is special for a number of reasons. First and foremost, she was her grandfather’s favorite. Now, there are speculations as to why that is, but regardless of the whys, the facts are that Don Angeletto will lose over half his territory to the other bosses if *anything* ever happens to Emilia. Or… if Emilia doesn’t marry someone of acceptable birth.
Someone like Alex DeMarco.
Reaching toward Ana’s half full tumbler of whiskey and snatching it from her hands, my cousin drinks that too. She says nothing. He smiles at her in gratitude, all the while eyeing her bountiful bosom and her bee-stung lips in a way that is *supposed* to make her feel sexy. I’ve seen him run that play a thousand times. Take a girl who may not feel particularly beautiful, a girl that struggles with self esteem, a girl who is almost *always* last pick for the team, and make her feel like the sexiest thing alive. *He’ll have her sucking his cock by lunchtime.*
Who knows? Maybe we’ll all get lucky and she’ll find his soul somewhere deep down in his balls.
**RUBY**
“We’re about ten minutes away now,” I announce, my eyes on the rolling emerald landscape.
“How long have you been on Santos’ payroll?” Damien’s dumbass asks me as we pass the cutoff for the falls.
I ignore the content of his question and answer with, “If by ‘payroll’ you mean, cock, I assure you it only took once. I don’t know what they’re feeding their babies out there in the Spanish countryside, but whatever it is, it works. I’ll never touch another Italian sausage again. Not ever.”
Damien snickers, despite that I can practically see the frustration lining his brow. My comment worries him because he thinks that Antonio is like the rest of them. He believes that Antonio could only want me for one reason, and that that reason could never be love. In his mind, I don’t compare to my cousin at all. Not in the way that *he* deems valuable. The silly boy.
But, I can’t fault him for it. Romany *is* beautiful and she *does* tend to command a lot of hearts. But what Damien isn’t understanding is that not all hearts want the same thing.
Take mine, for instance.
I play to my strengths. I work things out in my head. The *only* thing I have ever wanted was to be in control of my own destiny.
I’ll admit, at first Santos had me beat. I couldn’t see a way out no matter what I tried. I had to look at things from another angle. Once I figured out what that angle was, I knew exactly how to play him. And play him I did. Right down to the apology I gave him before I pretended I was going to slit his throat.
But even though it *did* lead to my escape… I can’t deny that it was the most incredible sex I had ever had. Still… I never would have guessed that he would sacrifice himself for me. I underestimated Antonio Santos, and… I underestimated myself.
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