Definitely no love lost between him and Davit.
Shannon stood next to Leo, shaking her head. Her eyes were wide, her body rigid, her fists clenched by her sides. Her face was so pale she could pass for a ghost.
“I’m not yours, Davit,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Davit snorted and then narrowed his eyes. “What? You think you belong to him now? That’s now how it works, Shannon. Or should I say, Serendipity?”
Shannon winced like he’d slapped her, and then she lifted her chin. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
Davit laughed like she’d told an outrageously funny joke.
Max, who was apparently slow on the uptake, said, “Holy shit, you’re fucking Davit’s ex? Dude, that’s not cool.”
Until now, he wouldn’t have classified what they did as fucking, but knowing she had at some point been the girlfriend of a mob prince, Leo wasn’t sure anymore.
Obviously, the relationship had gone sour, but still, she’d willingly gotten into it in the first place. She’d chosen to date, to sleep with a mob guy.
How was he supposed to get past that?
Did he even bother trying? Did it matter? Because even if he decided to let bygones be bygones, dating a mobster’s ex was asking for trouble Leo had spent his entire adult life avoiding. Nixing that deal with Davit had been one of the few times Leo had stood up to his father and insisted on doing things his way.
Walking out on his own wedding had been the second time. It didn’t escape his notice that Davit was the common denominator in those two scenarios.
“No, that’s really not cool,” Davit said, his eyes narrowed and now focused on Leo.
“Wait, hold up,” Leo said, narrowing his eyes right back. “I caught you fucking my fiancée at my wedding rehearsal. I’d say that’s way less cool than me dating your ex-girlfriend.”
Shannon flung her entire body around to face him, her mouth hanging open. “Davit is the guy?”
“Yep.”
He wasn’t angry about what happened, but he wasn’t about to let Davit get away with acting like it was wrong for someone else to go out with a woman who broke up with him a year ago. That was some caveman, alpha-hole bullshit, and Shannon didn’t deserve it. Well, no woman did, but definitely not Shannon.
“Oh God,” Shannon said, her voice sounding faint.
Max’s brow crinkled. “How did she escape the Italian mafia?” He glanced at Davit. “Because you know my brother’s not associated with them, right?”
What the hell was he talking about?
“That’s an excellent question,” Davit said, shifting his focus to Shannon. Leo could practically see the wheels turning in his head, although he had no idea what dots the other guy was connecting.
“How did you escape, Shannon?” Davit’s voice was cool, dripping with suspicion.
Shannon seemed to almost curl into herself as she shuffled backward, inching away from Davit.
“You disappeared at the exact same time as Nina fucking Sarvilli. I assumed she and that asshole Luca Russo took you as insurance in case someone went after them,” Davit added.
The name Nina Sarvilli sounded vaguely familiar, although Leo wasn’t sure why. Luca, though, he was Marco’s cousin. Leo had hung out with him a few times back in high school. Unless something had changed drastically in the last ten years, he could not imagine Luca kidnapping anyone. Besides, he wasn’t part of the Italian mafia. At least, he hadn’t been when Leo knew him.
“Apparently I was wrong,” Davit said. His gaze scoured over Shannon in a way that made Leo want to grab a blanket off the sofa in the sitting room and drape it around her shoulders, covering her from view.
“You know how I hate being wrong,” Davit said, his voice low, his focus on Shannon, who was now visibly shaking. Leo moved closer to her, trying to offer comfort without being overt. They may no longer have a future together, but he sure as hell couldn’t leave her on her own to be devoured by this wolf.
“What’s with the hair?” Davit asked, curling his lip. “And the face? And that dress?” He waved at her swimsuit coverup. “And what the fuck is on your feet?”
Who was this guy, the fashion police? Shannon would be hot as hell if all she wore were a burlap sack.
Cliché, but true.
Leo glanced at Shannon. Her eyes were dilated, her face pinched. A blush was crawling up her neck. Was she suddenly embarrassed over her appearance? She’d been so confident from the moment he’d met her; this frightened woman who withdrew into herself was not the Shannon he knew.
He started to step in front of her, an attempt to shield her from Davit’s creeper gaze, but she edged away from him and moved closer to Davit.
What the hell?
“He didn’t know,” she said, talking in soothing tones, like she was trying to calm a toddler who was having a temper tantrum. “He had no idea who I was. This isn’t on him, Davit.”
“Wait. Are you protecting me from him?” Leo demanded of Shannon. “I can handle myself.”
“Not against him,” she said, her voice quiet, her gaze on Davit.
Leo grabbed her arm to try to get her to look at him. There was a roar, like a wounded animal had stepped into the room with them, and suddenly Davit charged, slamming into Leo and sending him flying backward into the wooden railing of the staircase. The entire thing shuddered; something cracked loudly.
Possibly his back because holy fuck it hurt like a mother!
He dropped to his knees and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get a handle on the pain, when someone grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to his feet. He stood there—well, dangled, really—while Davit curled his lip and sneered into his face.
