I Picked A Blind Match Husband — My Adopted Brother Showed Up With A Bomb Chapter 04
The Night Before
After Damien leaves, I turn back toward the compound.
Luca is waiting. He holds out a martini.
I push it away. “Don’t drink that anymore.”
He frowns. “Since when?”
“Since I changed my taste. New man, new preferences.”
He starts pouring for himself instead, one glass after another until he reaches three. I grab his wrist to stop him.
He flips his hand and pins mine down.
“Two years. Why didn’t you send me a single word?”
“You had Sophie and the baby. What would you need my words for?”
“You nearly got yourself killed half a dozen times securing that pipeline, all so you could kneel in front of my father with something to offer in exchange for marrying her. Isn’t that right?”
His eyes turn red around the edges.
“They told me. You begged the Don for an entire night just so he’d let you choose me.”
“They told me you sat by that window for two full years.”
I let out a cold laugh. “So you knew all along.”
I pull my hand free and turn to leave.
He grabs my arm.
“Damien Marchetti is a playboy. He’s not right for you.”
“I’m not marrying her tomorrow. I’ll spend your birthday with you.”
I shake him off without looking back.
“You have your wedding.”
“And I have mine.”
At dawn, the convoy arrives.
I step out of the compound in white. The crystal-studded Valentino, the one I had Rosa burn yesterday, was never the real gown. The real one was always waiting in my room.
Sophie spots me and her eyes catch fire.
“So that’s why you wouldn’t let me wear it. You wanted it for yourself.”
“Oh, and your dear third brother slept in my bed last night. Drank himself unconscious.”
She steps closer. Whispers in my ear.
“But really, what kind of woman falls in love with her own brother? Even if you marry someone else, what kind of ending do you think you’ll get?”
She smiles. Innocent. Sweet.
I lift my foot and kick her square in the stomach.
She staggers back, gasping. My brothers stand right there, every single one of them suddenly very interested in the ceiling, the walls, the sky — anywhere but here.
“You shameless little — ! You kicked me! Who do you think you are?!”
“I’m a Ferrante. And that thing in your belly isn’t Ferrante blood. Luca’s not even blood himself — he’s an adopted son. You want to use someone else’s name to get to the top? You picked the wrong family.”
I pat Marco on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Marco squeezes my arm. “Don’t let that gutter rat ruin your day. I’ll take care of it.”
I give him my sweetest smile, the one that makes people’s skin crawl.
“You’re the best, Marco.”
The second I step through the gate, Damien pulls me aside.
“There you are. I thought you were standing me up.”
I frown, about to say something —
He turns to my brothers and gives them a deep, formal bow, the kind of respect you show another family’s blood.
“Gentlemen, I’m taking your sister now. Figured I’d get her out early before someone crashes the party. No offense.”
We get in the car.
I look at Damien’s face. He’s tense, with his jaw tight and his eyes constantly checking the mirrors.
“What are you so nervous about? I said yes. I’m yours. Besides, he’s still passed out drunk. He won’t —”
Damien pinches my cheek. “Don’t jinx it.”
His phone rings.
Marco’s voice explodes through the speaker: “Sera! Luca’s awake! He’s lost his mind. He grabbed a full crew, and they’re coming after you! We couldn’t hold them! Watch your back!”
The call cuts. Before I can respond —
BANG.
The car lurches forward. Metal screams against metal.
Damien throws himself over me. The driver yanks the wheel hard and barely keeps us on the road.
Nico’s call comes in next: “Sera! He’s gone completely insane! Rammed straight through the barricade! Where are you?!”
Then Tommy: “He blew through the last checkpoint! Our guys couldn’t stop him! He’s right on top of you!”
A black Maybach explodes out of the cross street ahead. Its front bumper is hanging by a thread, and its hood is crumpled from the impact.
It drifts sideways and slams to a stop, blocking the entire convoy.
I watch through the settling dust as Luca throws open the driver’s door and stumbles out. His eyes are bloodshot, and his hands are shaking.
I raise the phone to my ear.
“Tommy. Don’t bother.”
“He’s already here.”