Unraveled (Dark Sovereign Book 3)

“This is bullshit.” Venom drips from Mira’s words, and rage roils behind her eyes as she glowers at me like I’m the spawn of Satan. She’s practically drilling holes into my forehead with a glare that could cut through bone.

“She’s a fucking person, Alexius. Not a goddamn animal you can keep in a cage.”

I lean forward with my palms on my desk, pinching my eyes shut, praying to God for the patience I need with this woman. “This is none of your business, Mirabella.”

“The hell it isn’t. Leandra is my best friend, and you’re keeping her locked in a room and you can’t even tell me why.”

I’m surprised Leandra hasn’t told her about the birth control switch. They’ve been talking through a locked door almost every day, discussing what a jerk I am. Mira has asked so many times what the hell was going on, but none of this has anything to do with her, so I don’t owe her any type of explanation or reason. If Leandra wants to tell her what happened, that’s up to her.

“This is insane, Alexius. Can’t you see how fucked-up this is?” Mira’s green irises burn with a wave of anger I can understand, but it does nothing to persuade me to change my mind.

Nicoli appears by the door, and I simply lift a brow at him. Mira’s back is turned toward my brother.

I let out a breath. “I’m trying my best not to lose patience with you, Mira. But this is your last warning. My relationship with Leandra is none of your business. It is not your place to question or challenge the decisions I make when it comes to my wife. So, for the last damn time, stay out of it.”

“I don’t know about you, Alexius, but I can’t exactly walk around this place singing goddamn Christmas carols when I know you’re keeping your wife locked in a room for God knows what.”

“Stay out of it, Mira,” I warn.

“Goddammit, Alexius. The least you can do is let her leave her fucking room. This place is a goddamn prison on its own. Even if she wants to leave, you and I both know she won’t be able to put a foot out the front door without you knowing.”

“I’ll handle this situation as I see fit.”

“You’re handling it like a fucking psychopath.”

My angered glare levels her. “Disrespect me like that again, and I’ll—”

“Lock me in my room, too? Treat me like a petulant child as well?”

“If you act like one, yes.”

Mira’s eyes are frozen on mine, disdain simmering in their depths. “You’re scared of losing her. I get that. But nothing—and I mean nothing—justifies this, Alexius.”

I take a second to simmer down, trying to keep myself from saying something I’ll regret. Mirabella has been and always will be an important person in my life. A sister I never had. But the situation between my wife and me is complicated, to say the least, and as much as I love Mira, I will not allow her to interfere.

I cross my arms and lean back against the edge of my desk. “For the last time. Stay the fuck out of my goddamn business.”

Mira’s cheeks turn a fiery red, her savage fury beaming from her glowing cheeks. There’s no mistaking it. She hates me. But at this point, I don’t give a shit.

Her heels dig into the carpet on my office floor as she approaches, pausing mere inches from me, lifting her chin with defiance I’ve seen her showcase so many times before. “I always knew you were an asshole. Cruel. Even cold-hearted at times. But I never thought of you as an unjust man, Alexius. And what you’re doing to Leandra, the future mother of your twins, it’s unjustified and downright despicable.” Her eyes narrow as she leans closer. “Your father would be disappointed.”

“Mirabella! That’s enough.” Nicoli’s voice crashes through the room, and she visibly gasps, unaware of his presence until now.

Her face is instantly pale, and I’m sure her shoulders slump the tiniest bit. It never ceases to amaze me the effect my twin brother has on her. It’s everywhere, in her eyes, on her cheeks, her lips, her frame. She is no less bound to him as I am to my wife, yet Nicoli refuses to acknowledge it. Dumbass.

With a visible breath, she steels herself, her jaw set as she turns to face him. “You’re okay with him keeping her locked up? You condone his actions?”

“That’s not important. What’s important is that I know my place in this family.” Nicoli steps inside, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. “But it seems like you’ve forgotten yours.”

She flinches, pain scattered in her eyes’ radiance. But her shoulders remain squared, her will iron-cast. “Maybe I have,” she says. “But at least I haven’t forgotten how to be a decent fucking human being.”

Rage erupts and slices through the tension as she storms out with angered footsteps, the loud slam of the door an echo of her fury. Understandable. But inconsequential.

Nicoli simply stares at me, dark strands hanging down his face. It doesn’t take twin telepathy to know my brother isn’t exactly thrilled with me either. But as he said, he knows his place.

“She’s upset.” I state the obvious, pouring us a drink.

“Upset? She’s practically frothing at the mouth.” Nicoli takes a seat on the couch, loosening his tie, and I hand him his drink. His brows furrow as he studies me. “I’ll always support you, brother. No matter what.”

“I feel a but coming.”

“No but. Just a question.”

I sit down across from him, and his strained expression doesn’t go unnoticed. I sigh. “If you have something on your mind, just say it.”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“The truth?” I tap my finger on the armrest.

“Yeah.”

I lean back. “When it comes to Leandra, I don’t have a fucking clue. But what I do know is there’s not a chance in hell she’s walking out of here. Especially now that she’s carrying my children.”

“I agree.”

I frown. “You do?”

“Yeah. I don’t necessarily agree with your actions to keep her from leaving, but,” he shrugs, “I know that if it were me, I wouldn’t let her walk out my door either.”

“This isn’t how I intended all of this to play out,” I say, swirling the glass and watching the amber liquid ripple against the crystal.

“You’re kidding, right?” He lights a cigarette, a plume of smoke drifting toward the ceiling. “You didn’t think fucking with her birth control and her finding out about it would end with her wanting your balls on a poker?”

“She wasn’t supposed to find out.”

“Of course not. But she did. Problem is, you made a big mistake turn into a giant-sized dick that’s been fucking you in the ass ever since you locked her bedroom door.” He points upward at the second floor, the cigarette caught between two fingers. “And now you need to figure out a way to unfuck yourself.”

“Jesus Christ.” I roll my eyes, pulling my palm down my face. “You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t disagree. But at least I’m a smart asshole. You’re just an asshole. Seriously, though,” he puts out his cigarette, “what are you going to do?”

Whiskey laps onto my tongue, and I swallow, relishing how it burns as it travels down my throat. “I know what I’m not going to do.” I peer at him. “I’m not losing her.”

“What if you already have?”

“I haven’t.” My reply is curt. It’s a thought I refuse to dwell on or acknowledge in any way. Losing Leandra is not an option. Not now. Not ever. “I’ll figure it out,” is the only answer I give him, and he nods.

“I have no doubt that you will.” For a moment, his expression becomes solid. “Whatever you need from me, you’ve got it, brother. I will always support you, no matter what.”

I take a deep breath, my chest widening beneath my white dress shirt. Knowing I have his support gives me a sense of relief. “Thank you, Nicoli.”

There’s a long silence, and memories of Leandra and our trip to Rome play like a movie inside my head. Our days under the Italian sky now feel like a single moment in time that was just ours. Minutes, hours, days we didn’t share with the Dark Sovereign or the Del Rossa family. It was just me and her and this insane connection that never stopped pulsing like it was a living entity of its own. And now look where we are. Leandra is pregnant with my twins because I fucked with her birth control to keep her from leaving me once our agreement ended. And now I have her locked in her room, taking every precaution to ensure she stays right here. Even the kitchen staff is escorted by security when delivering her meals to her room. I tried doing it once and ended up with a ruined suit because she thought the spinach cannelloni would pair well with Armani.

“You really love her…don’t you?” Nicoli studies me, and my guess is his question is only partially rhetorical.

I slam back the whiskey, placing the glass down before shifting in my seat, looking him in the eye as the truth teeters on the tip of my tongue. Fuck this. If I can’t allow myself just a sliver of vulnerability toward my own twin brother, then I’m fucked whether I speak the truth or not.

I stand, buttoning my suit jacket. “I don’t just love her. That woman owns me, brother. And it’s fucking with my head because, for the first time in my goddamn life, I know what it feels like to fear losing someone.” I pull a hand through my hair. “Considering that we just buried our father not too long ago, that says a lot.”

Nicoli’s expression remains solid, and I half expect him to take a piss at me. But instead, I see understanding in his eyes and feel a kinship stretching between us. He knows exactly what I’m talking about…because it’s his own fear as well.

He licks his lips as he gets on his feet. “As I said, I support you, and I’ll always have your back. Just,” he clears his throat, “take it easy with Mirabella. She might have grown up with us in this house, but she’s nothing like us.”

I nod, and Nicoli shrugs off the weight of our conversation by slapping his hands together, his face curling in lines of mischief. “You ready to put Uncle Roberto out on his ass?”

“God, yes.”

“I suspect you gifting Mother a luxury cruise getaway for the next few weeks is not coincidental.”

I smirk. “Of course not.”

“You do know she’s coming back? You’re just delaying the inevitable, telling her that her brother is no longer part of this family.”

“I’m aware. But I suspect Mother won’t be returning after her cruise.” I open the door. “She’s going to the vineyard in Tuscany, and I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“What gives you that idea?” Nicoli walks out, and I close the door behind us and start down the hall.

“I don’t know. Call it a gut feeling. There was something about how she said goodbye, walking through the entire house and talking to herself in Italian. It felt…final.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” he says as we stalk across the foyer. “She’s had enough of all the Dark Sovereign shit. She needs to spend her last years in peace.”

I nod in agreement as I pull the gold key from my pocket, slipping it into the lock and opening the large pocket door. The overhead track runs smoothly as the mahogany disappears into the wall cavity.

The familiar honeyed scent of beeswax greets us, and Nicoli and I walk over to the oval table.

“I have to be honest,” Nicoli starts. “It still feels weird in here without Dad.”

“It does,” I agree, sauntering over to the magnolia-colored curtains, glancing out over the courtyard. The sky is gray, and snow falls gently, its glittery surface draping everything it touches in a blanket of white. It looks peaceful outside. Tranquil. Meanwhile, there will be a war raging inside this room once my uncle decides to grace us with his presence.

“Fucker is late as always,” Nicoli complains, taking his seat next to my chair.

“So are our brothers.”

“I’m here.” Caelian saunters in and slips on his suit jacket. “Is Isaia joining us today?”

“Who the fuck knows?” I say, reaching for the tape recorder in my pocket and placing it on the table.

Nicoli raises a brow in question.

I smirk. “I thought it a good idea to remind our uncle just how fucked he really is.”

“Nice touch.”

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Uncle Roberto stands by the door, the buttons of his suit straining across his fat belly. The sight of him grates down my spine, and I’m pretty sure that if I didn’t know today would be his last day here, I’d leap across the table and choke his last breath out of him.

“Roberto.” I straighten and square my shoulders, my eyes not leaving him. “You’re late.”

“I’m not in a hurry to meet with the man who killed my son.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to Rome, your only son? The coward who abandoned his own family?”

Roberto’s eyes narrow. “You know I’m not talking about Rome.”

“Oh. You mean Jimmy?” I shoot him a taunting smirk. “He’s not your son. But I can see why you’d think that since you’re both arrogant pricks.”

“What did you do with his body?”

I scoff. Asshole would do anything to find Jimmy’s body. Not because he wants to lay his supposed son’s body to rest, bury him and get closure. No. He wants proof that I killed Jimmy so he can paint me the villain, gather an army, and come at my throat. But that is not going to happen, and he knows it. There’s not a chance in hell he’ll ever find Jimmy, or at least what’s left of him. All he has is a shitty piece of paper scribbled with words that means nothing if there isn’t a body. Micah’s letter saying I killed Jimmy isn’t worth a fuck.

I settle my stance, keeping my glare locked on my uncle. There’s no need to say a goddamn word because he can read everything I want to say to him on my goddamn face. Go to hell.

He notices the tape recorder, and his top lip curls upward at the corners. “Tell me, Alexius, what is it that you expect to happen here today?”

“Not much. Just you getting what you deserve.”

“And what’s that?”

Caelian snorts. “A whole lot of nothing.”

Roberto simply glowers in his direction for no longer than a second before settling his attention on me. The smoke billows from the tip of his cigar, the smell of burning tobacco becoming more potent with his every exhale. “Seventeen years, is it?”

“Is what?” I ask.

“How long you’ve waited to get rid of me and take away everything that’s mine.”

“What’s yours?” I grit out. “You’re fucking joking, right? None of this is yours.” I swipe my hand through the air. “All of this is what my father built.”

“With my father’s money.”

“That doesn’t say much about you, does it, now, Uncle? The fact that your father would rather give his money away than see you piss it all away.”

“You’ve always been a little shit.”

“And you’ve always been a snake.”

“Well,” he smirks like the arrogant fuck he is, “I do tend to lay low, striking only when threatened.”

“I’m past the point of threatening, Roberto. This family will no longer fund your pathetic existence.”

“Pathetic?” he snaps, letting out a taunting laugh. “Oh, dear boy, you have no idea.”

I step closer, my patience hanging by a thread. “The Savelli family is no longer part of the Dark Sovereign. From this day on, these five seats will only be filled with men of the Del Rossa family.”

“You’re one short,” he taunts, but I simply shrug it off.

“My wife is pregnant. I’m sure I’ll have an heir to fill Riccardo’s seat one day. Where is he, by the way?” I pretend to search over his shoulder. “Did your brother not have the balls to witness your shameful exit?”

“On the contrary,” Roberto takes a long drag from his cigar, the smoke trickling from the corner of his mouth, “my brother is bringing a guest.”

“Really? And who might that be?”

Isaia appears by the door, swiping at his shoulders, getting rid of the snow clinging to the leather of his jacket. “You’ll never guess who I found on my way in.”

I cut my glare in his direction, surprised my little brother decided to show up. But there’s a prickle of warning trickling along my skin, especially since Roberto’s smug grin is planted on his ugly motherfucking face.

“Who is it?” I walk up to Isaia when he steps to the side, allowing our guest to enter. For a second, I don’t recognize him, his familiar face taking two heartbeats to trigger my memory. And when it does, my instincts erupt.

“Rome,” I mutter.

He smiles, dark brown eyes gleaming. “Hello, cousin. It’s been a while.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I would say that’s pretty obvious, is it not?” His gaze cuts to Nicoli, then back to me. “I’m here to take my father’s place. I am his heir, after all.”