Night of My Life

Bria’s pov

The phone would not quit. It sat somewhere close and hammered the dark behind my eyes, every ring landing hard against the inside of my skull.

I groaned and rolled over. The mattress gave under me, softer and wider than anything I owned, and the first thing my hand found was not my phone. It was skin. Bare. A chest, solid under my palm, heat coming off it in a slow rise.

I froze. My pulse stalled, then kicked back twice as mean, and the night before came up in pieces while I tried to work out why there was a man in this bed at all.

My fingers spread. I dragged them down that chest. Too broad. Too smooth. Not Jason. Jason was the on-and-off I called when I needed a body and no conversation, and this was not him.

The ringing cut off mid-shriek.

"What is it?"

Heavy accent. Pissed off. Low enough to sit in my ribs.

My eyes flew open.

Enzo Castiglione.

Don of the Italian mafia. The most dangerous man in Chicago. And, as of this wreck of a weekend, my new stepbrother.

Humiliation burned up my throat at the same time fear went through me cold. No. No. No.

I could already hear the verdict. Filthy slut. Dirty whore. Your own stepbrother. A man you only just met, and you still ended the night under him.

How did this happen.

I sat up and hauled the sheet to my chest. My heart was beating hard enough to bruise my lungs, shoving dread through me with every hit.

This could not be real.

I blinked until the room steadied. My clothes were piled by the door. My underwear hung off a chair. My shoes had landed in a corner like they'd been kicked there.

Enzo Castiglione. I made myself hold the name until it stuck. My mother was marrying his father, Arturo Castiglione, the retired godfather of this city. Brenda had hauled me to the get-together Arturo was throwing for their union and then lit into me about my clothes, about how I wasn't even trying to fit. I'd drunk until her voice went thin.

Worthless.

Piece of shit.

Mistake.

Those words were still stacked on me, squeezing everything else out. Worse, I could hear them in his mouth. His voice. His lips. His hands. His teeth. He'd put the same garbage against my skin, over and over, until it didn't sound like Brenda anymore.

Used condoms on the floor ended the argument. The ache already knew. The latex just made it official.

I clutched the sheet and felt the whole morning drop through me.

I had to get out before this room finished the job.

He was still on the phone, talking low about something I didn't catch. Fine. If I moved while he was busy, maybe I left with my skin on.

I got off the bed and nearly went down. Tears had smeared the edges of everything. I pulled my clothes on anyway, hands shaking, and aimed myself at the door.

"Stop right there."

Thick. Deep. Not a suggestion.

I swallowed. Every inch of me wanted to keep walking. No man alive got to tell me what to do, and the most dangerous one in the city was not about to become the exception.

A gun cocked at my back.

That stopped me.

"Turn around."

I turned. Slow. Hating every inch of it. Only because the barrel was aimed at my head.

He lay in white silk twisted half off him. Too good-looking for anybody's safety, and the dark in those grey eyes ruined whatever the face was selling. Scratches marked his chest and shoulder. His hair was wrecked. My lipstick sat at the corner of his mouth and smeared down his throat, across skin I remembered under my hands.

Heat hit my face. I felt his naked body against mine again. Those rough hands closing over me like he owned the right.

How in the hell had I put myself in a bed with a man like him.

I knew better than to mess with mafia men. Last night the reasons had gone as blurry as the rest of me.

"Who the fuck are you?"

The blankness in it stung, and annoyance came right behind it. I softened whatever I might have thrown back. People said the don was too quick with a trigger. I did not need my murder on his hands before the day had properly started.

"Bria. Bria Bellini."

Annoyance sparked the second my last name hit him.

That made two of us.

"Fuckk!"

He shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and blew a hard breath at the ceiling. When he looked at me again his mouth was set, grey eyes flat and unpleasant.

"Pack your shit and leave."

He tossed the gun onto the nightstand and folded his arms, done with the sight of me.

I rolled my eyes. Leaving was exactly what I'd been doing before he decided I was worth a bullet.

His stare stayed on my back until I shut the door on it. I wanted the morning buried. I did not get the chance.

Brenda was the first person in the hall. Her eyes went wide at the state of me, hair wrecked, clothes crooked, coming out of that room.

"You bitch!"

She grabbed my arm and yanked me into a narrow recess in the wall. "I took a big risk getting you involved in this family, and I won't have you ruining everything for me before I have even officially married Arturo."

Panic climbed my throat. I swallowed it and kept my face blank. With her, the truth had never once saved me.

"Let go of me. I did nothing wrong."

Nothing she knew about.

Her fingers dug in. She pulled me closer, sniffed, and her mouth pinched. "Don't lie to me. You're just a whore. Always was, always have been. Of course you'd jump right into the bed of the first man you find."

She had no idea who that man was. She probably didn't even believe herself. She'd spent years looking the other way when it suited her. Landing Arturo Castiglione after barely scraping by was not a chance she meant to lose, and the luxury waiting on the other side of that marriage was not something she'd let me touch.

"Look, Mama, I didn't do anything. I promise. I got drunk last night and had one of the servants find me a room. I just woke up, I'm incredibly hungover, and I'd appreciate it if you hounded me about your false suspicions some other time."

Her hold slackened. Doubt moved through her face.

She didn't know a damn thing. She was only reaching for the worst version of me, same as always.

"I'm not you mamà."

She spat it and walked off.

My shoulders slumped. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding and found my way out of that mansion.