Dead of Wynter: A Dark Mafia Romance (Frost Industries Book 2)
Dead of Wynter: Chapter 9

Everett’s words hang between our families long after he says them, and for some reason I can’t help but stand a little straighter at the praise. It’s not the first time he’s said those words to me but saying them to our enemy makes my heart beat harder. The Russo family underestimates women. It’s well known that they think men are the superior sex and women belong barefoot in the kitchen producing as many children as their husband requires of them. But that’s not how this family works.

“That may be the case, but you know the risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Everett’s cousin shrugs as if his words weren’t an unspoken threat.

I smile and step forward out of Everett’s hold. “If you’re going to threaten me, Elijah, do it properly. But I guess it’s silly of me to expect anything else from a Russo.” I’ve never heard my own voice sound so menacing, but I don’t appreciate the way he’s speaking about me like I’m not even here.

His head cocks to the side, as if he doesn’t know what to make of me. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you that your place is at a man’s side, silent?”

Everett growls behind me, but I take another step forward until I’m face to face with four Russo men, their eyes on me curiously. “My daddy taught me not to fear weak men. He taught me that just because I’m a woman, doesn’t mean I’m not just as powerful as my brothers. There’s a reason Everett chose our family over his own, because we actually know how to treat the people we love. Now, I suggest that you leave, and the next time we see you, I promise it won’t be under such pleasant circumstances.” I spare each member of their family a glance before turning on my heel and walking away with my head held high.

I hear the whisper of voices behind me, but I don’t stop walking until I reach the limo waiting for us. My heart beats painfully in my chest to the point I think it may stop all together, and by the time I’m settled in my seat and the door closes behind us, shielding us from prying eyes, I’m gasping for air. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a panic attack, but the telltale signs are all here. Shortness of breath. The feeling of the world closing in on me. An erratic heartbeat.

Everett reaches for me before gathering me up and placing me in his lap. “You did so good, dove,” he whispers to me as tears start rolling down my cheeks. His kindness only makes the panic grow stronger, the thought of leaning on someone other than myself and my immediate family more than my anxiety ridden body can handle. “I’ve got you, Wynter. I’ve always got you.”

I allow my body to relax into his, needing the warmth and soothing words he’s offering as my entire body shakes on his. He repositions me carefully so I’m straddling his lap, my face pressed against his chest and he’s holding me tightly against him.

“Give me your jacket,” he says to Storm and a moment later it’s wrapped around my shoulders.

Movement on the other side of me makes me startle before a warm hand touches mine. “It’s me, Wynter,” Emerson whispers. “You’re safe now, can you breathe with me?” Her words are soft and carefully spoken, and I can tell this isn’t the first time she’s helped to calm someone down.

I bury my face into Everett’s chest, taking comfort in his familiar scent helping to bring my breathing under control.

“I knew this plan was a bad idea,” Storm grumbles from beside us, but I do everything I can to block him out and focus on the steady beat of Everett’s heart beneath my cheek, and the calming strokes of his hand down my back as he holds the back of my head in place. Despite what we just did, despite the threats I made to some of the most dangerous men in the country, I’ve never felt more safe than I do right now.

“It wasn’t a bad idea, Storm,” Snow says quietly. “It was the right call. Russo underestimates every single member of this family, but more so Wynter, Emerson, and I. They think we’re weak just because we’re women and showing them how strong she is will make them make mistakes. They’ll rush whatever the next phase of their plan is and we’ll be waiting.”

“She’s fucking terrified,” Storm hisses and Everett holds me a little tighter, as if trying to shield me from the harsh words.

“You’re right, she is,” Emerson replies from somewhere in the limo. She’s moved away from me again and if I had to hazard a guess without opening my eyes, I imagine Rayne summoned her back to him. “She just stood up to the man who murdered her parents. She’s been so busy taking care of everyone else, making sure Frost Industries doesn’t crumble while you’re all away, and plotting how to take that family down, she hasn’t grieved, and then she went toe to toe with someone who wants every single person in this car dead. I think that’s a pretty good reason to be terrified.”

I raise my head despite Everett’s attempts to hold it against his chest, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. “Let me up,” I whisper. It’s not a demand, I’m asking him to let me say my piece and then I’ll allow him to coddle me all he likes, even if it is only for today. I will allow myself one day of being held by the man I fell in love with all those years ago, and at the end of today I’ll turn my feelings off again and keep him at arm’s length. I can’t allow myself to fall for him again, not after all he’s done.

“Just stay put, dove. We’ll be home soon.”

“Just for a second,” I promise.

Everett sighs and his arms loosen around me as I sit up on his lap. I make no move to sit in my own seat, perfectly comfortable where I’m perched on his knees. “I need you all to stop talking about me like I’m not here. Today has been… overwhelming, and facing Russo was just another part of that. While we stood there, one of those men threatened me, Snow, and Emerson, without ever saying the words. Of course I’m fucking terrified. Of course every single fiber of my being is screaming at me to run. But I won’t. Those men killed our parents. They kidnapped and hurt Emerson. They deserve to die, and I’ll be damned if I’m not getting my pound of flesh in all this.”

The analogy has my own stomach flipping, but it’s as true as anything else I could have said. I want to see every member of the Russo family dead, even if it means Everett has no biological family left.

Everett is the product of two families trying to unite in order to restore peace to the city. The man my father over threw married Everett’s mother under an arranged agreement between Angelo’s father and the Masters family. They thought they could unite and become the largest criminal organization in the country, but the problem with that was that George Masters had no time or patience for a wife, or a child for that matter. The man was cruel, and when he killed her one night after he came home drunk, and forced his son to watch, everything started to unravel.

It was around that time that the Saint James family took over, that we ascended through the Chicago underworld and came out on top, all of Russo’s hard work misplaced, and the youngest daughter dead because of their decisions.

Storm stares at me for long moments, assessing me like he does our enemies. He’s looking for the weakness in my words, for the hesitation in my eyes, but he’s not going to replace it. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.

The Russo family needs to be wiped from existence like the scum they are, and I want a front row seat to their demise.

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours. Once I calmed down in the limo, Snow helped me to fix my makeup and we spent three excruciating hours at a wake for our parents. People they hated, people that didn’t know them but thought they could capitalize on our loss, people who were looking for our weaknesses. But we showed them nothing.

Everett stayed with me the entire time, his arm wrapped around my waist to give me the strength I needed, and as much as I hate to admit it, I needed him. It wasn’t until we got home that I retreated to my room, claiming to have a headache I didn’t have. It was the only excuse I could think of to force my family to leave me alone for a little while.

He had hesitantly allowed me out of his sight, and now I wish he hadn’t. Every moment I’ve laid here, all I’ve been able to think about is Everett’s hands on my body, the way he held me so tight it felt like I would die when he let me go. It’s not the first time I’ve laid in bed awake for hours thinking about him, and it probably won’t be the last, but it is the first time he’s been in the next room.

My body aches for his touch, craves the comfort he can give me, but it’s the most basic instincts that need him most. My hand slides down my body, the only thing between it and my bare skin is a short nightgown I threw on to get out of the dress from the funeral. The silk fabric beneath my fingertips only seems to make me ache more.

Images of Everett’s fingers trailing over my body, his huge hands brushing along my bare skin until I can’t breathe past my need for him. My fingertips brush along my thighs, probing at the edge of my nightgown as I imagine him doing the same, teasing me until I’m panting for him, begging for him to touch me where I need him.

Slowly, I inch my hand up until my fingers touch the wet patch on my panties. A gentle moan slips from my lips as I close my eyes, allowing myself a moment of weakness to imagine how it would feel if it weren’t my own hand moving slowly, drawing gentle circles into my clit.

My other hand moves carefully, dragging my nails along my bare skin before circling my silk covered nipple. A gasp escapes my throat and my hips grind into my hand of their own accord. I can barely breathe through how turned on I am, how badly I need the release building under my own touch.

Before long I’m riding the edge of oblivion, teetering on the precipice of an orgasm my body craves almost as much as its next breath, and when I finally allow myself to tip over the edge, a strangled moan tears from my throat and my entire body tightens as waves of pleasure roll over me, taking the breath right from my lungs.

“Was that orgasm for me, dove?”