Most of the women who fall into my bed know only one-syllable words, like cock and sex and fuck and are more focused on what they can get instead of what they can give, and let’s face it. They wouldn’t be able to read the word humanitarian if there was a gun pointed at their temples.
That kind of woman is predictable and definitely not the type I’d want to stick around long term.
I actually didn’t think that type existed for me before tonight.
Now I know it does…not that I can do much about it.
I may have a thriving business and a respectable name, but I am who I am.
And that’s not good enough for her father.
So it won’t ever be good enough for Serena.
I’m kidding myself if I think otherwise. I’m a lot of things, delusional ain’t one of them.
But she’s still standing here…still staring at me with those piercing eyes…still close enough where I can pull her back into my arms and graze those lips with my own…
In another life, yes.
Well, maybe.
But not in this one.
Never in this one.
“You’re not what I expected,” she murmurs, leaning back on the railing, resting her elbows on the metal.
“I get that a lot.”
“You’re refreshingly honest.”
“Maybe you’re just too trusting.”
She shrugs. “Or maybe I’m a good judge of character.”
“Come on, I’m sure you hear how great you are all the time. Why believe me?”
“Because,” she says in a breathy voice. “I came to you, not the other way around. I caught you off-guard. You weren’t on a quest to score any points with me. And if I hadn’t walked over here, we would have gone our separate ways after this party and that would have been it. I mean, we’ve already established that you’re petrified of my father, so let’s be real. You would never have come within ten feet of me.” she says, her tone now teasing.
“I don’t think I used the word petrified.” I lift an eyebrow. “And for all you know, I could have been strategizing when you came out here.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t give me enough credit.”
“Do you think you deserve it?”
“I think I know something special when I see it. And I’m not the type to walk away. I’m the guy who goes after it, and I don’t stop until I have it.”
She nods, her lips pursed. “Then maybe you are the guy,” she says, more to herself than to me.
The guy for what?
But before my lips can form the question, a strong hand crashes down on my shoulder, rooting me to my spot on the balcony.
“Diego Marcone.”
An unfamiliar, low, gravelly voice rumbles through me, and I search Serena’s expression for a clue as to who the hell is interrupting us.
Her bright smile makes my gut twist.
Fuck me.
I know who it is before he swivels me around.
I force a smile and stick out my hand. “Mr. Vitale.”
He eyes my hand for a second before pumping it a couple of times.
His grip is tight. Like, tight enough to stop the circulation.
But I smile harder despite the fact that my fingertips are ice-cold and rapidly going numb.
“I see you’ve met my daughter.”
I nod. “Yes, I was just telling her how proud she should be of the work she’s done.”
Franco nods, his eyes narrowing. “She should be very proud.”
My mouth is still open, but I don’t know what the hell to say next.
But Franco doesn’t wait for me to speak again. He looks at Serena and nods over toward the ballroom. “Your mother is looking for you,” he says in his deep voice. “I’ll keep Diego company for a little while.”
Serena smiles at me before walking back inside. I resist the temptation to watch, her hips swinging back and forth as she glides across the veranda. I’m pretty sure this is an instance where Franco would pull out an ice pick and gouge out my eyes if I didn’t.
“I’m very interested in your business, Diego,” Franco says, folding his massive arms over his chest. “I see a lot of opportunities for us to work together in the future.”
“You know about my business?” I ask, not bothering to cover up the shock in my voice.
“I know everything about you,” he says with a sinister smile. “Do you really think I’d let my only daughter anywhere near you if I hadn’t done my research?”
“Research,” I repeat, as if it’s perfectly normal for someone like Franco Vitale to be digging into my past. My father was a boss, but he was small-scale compared to Vitale, even with his billion-dollar shipping company.
“I heard what you did back in Monaco. I know that you were a big reason why your father’s legacy was saved.”
“I did what I had to do to get justice.” I wonder how much more he knows about the kind of justice I served up to the people who tried to crush my family. Something tells me he has an idea that my killing spree wasn’t solely limited to Monaco.
Franco’s grip on my shoulder finally loosens, and I back away instinctively, even though the only place for me to go is over the railing I’d assaulted only minutes earlier. “I respect that.”
I stare at him. “Thanks.”
“Your father was a smart man. He had a lot of influence in Sicily. And he made a lot of allies around Europe.”
“Everyone wanted to stay on his good side because they knew he’d cut them off at the knees if they screwed with him.”
Franco chuckles. “That’s right.”
“He didn’t scare everyone, though,” I say. “All of that influence wasn’t enough.”
“People fear what they can’t control,” Franco says.
“And then they kill it,” I mumble.
“But you didn’t let them get away with it. You and your brother Cristian protected your family and its interests. You didn’t let them break you.”
“Never,” I say through gritted teeth. Although, they did come damn close.
Franco nods his head in approval. He rubs his chin and pins me against the metal with his beady eyes. “I’ve got my eye on you, Diego. And you’d be best advised to keep your eyes on me and off of my daughter. Capice?”
My lips stretch into a tight line. If that isn’t a fucking warning from the devil himself. I give a quick nod as Franco backs away and returns to his party.
I let out the breath I’d been holding, reeling from that whole exchange, Serena’s words still ringing in my ears.
Maybe you are the guy…
And my unanswered question still hangs in the balmy night air.
The guy for fucking what?
Chapter Three
Serena
I manage to wind my way back into the ballroom after exchanging greetings with dozens of guests. I’m sure Papa is giving Diego the third degree right now, making his intentions, and the restriction, very clear.
Of course, I’m the restriction.
Papa has brought up the Marcone family a lot lately. I know of them. Everyone does. But lately, he’s taken a greater interest. He’s gone to Sicily for meetings with Vince, the head of the family since their father died a few years ago, and personally invited the family to the gala tonight.
He’s got something up his sleeve. I can tell.
I’m just not sure what, and he avoids the question every time I bring it up.
I can’t help wondering about his motives, if they have anything to do with what happened to me, what he’s vowed will never happen again.
But the only thing he’s told me is that he’s watching the Marcones, specifically Diego. He’s mentioned Diego’s business a few times, says that he’s the type of guy who knows how to get things done without sacrificing what’s important.
Family, which always goes without saying.
So I checked him out myself. My foundation has a pretty strong reach in Italy, but I
want to expand into Sicily. And with Diego’s network, I can do just that. He’s already told me he wants in.
A shiver runs through me, the same shiver that chilled me from the inside out when he spoke those very words.
He believes in me.
And yet, he doesn’t even know the truth about why I work so hard for my foundation, why it even exists in the first place.
Blind faith.
That is so incredibly hot.
I know what I look like. And I know that most men don’t try to look beyond the packaging. They don’t care to see what lays beneath. But Diego…he’s not like those other guys. I know it sounds so naïve, but I just feel like he’s different. Like he wants more. Like he needs the same purpose I do in my life.
That’s why I had to meet him. I wanted to see if he was worth the hype.
And he is.
I just hope I get the chance to see him in action sooner than later.
I gaze around the ballroom, looking for my mother. I really should be mingling, but right now, I can’t focus on anything other than the heat of Diego’s stare and the dimple that deepened every time he smiled at me. Good Lord, he’s so scrumptiously adorable and smoldering at the same time.
I finally catch a glimpse of my mother across the room and I walk toward her, a smile stretched across my lips. As I get closer, I see him, the man from earlier tonight, and an unexplained dread washes over me again.
My smile fades, and I quicken my steps. His head is dipped low, close to hers. Her eyes are glued to his menacing ones as he murmurs something close to her ear. He steps closer, almost as if he’s blocking her from making a run for it.
But why? Who the hell is he, anyway? And what does he want with my mother?
“Mama,” I say, linking my arm with hers and pulling her away from the tall man whose attention is now focused on me. She looks at me with a panicked expression on her face, her eyes darting back to his.
The man’s lips curl upward. “Serena, is it?”
I nod. “Yes, and you are?”
“I’m a friend of your mother’s. From a long time ago.” His eyes flicker back at my mother’s. “I just wanted to say hello and to see if she still remembered me. It really has been so long, hasn’t it, Alessia?”
My mother clings to me and nods. “Yes, and now if you’ll excuse us, we have guests to attend to.” She leads me away from him, her fingertips tight around my arm.
“I just wanted to make sure you remembered me, Alessia. Because I never forgot about you.”
Tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention when I hear his sickening voice speak those words. I glance back once as she practically runs me away from her past. The man leans back against the wall, arms folded against his chest as he watches us move farther and farther away.
“Mama,” I whisper. “Who the heck is that man?”
“He’s just someone I knew a long time ago.” Her head darts in every direction as she answers me.
“What’s his problem? Why is he stalking you? Doesn’t he know who Papa is?”
Mama looks at me, a pinched expression on her face. “Unfortunately, he knows all too well, mi amore.” She looks past me and waves at my father, who excuses himself from a group of men at the bar.
“Franco, I think it’s time we leave.”
He narrows his eyes. “Why?”
Mama’s eyes flicker over toward the man who is still studying us from his position against the wall. “You were right. It was him. I’m certain of it. That’s why he’s here tonight,” she whispers under her breath.
As if I wouldn’t hear.
“Him who?” An icy cold sensation snakes around my heart. “Do you mean—?” I can’t bring myself to say the words. My eyes dart in his direction again and my stomach drops into my shoes.
He’s gone.
Papa’s face drains of all color. His expression makes my gut twist because it’s one I’ve never seen before in my life.
It’s fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.
He doesn’t ask questions. He just snaps his fingers.
In a hot second, ten of his security guys rush over forming a human barrier around us, and they start moving us toward the doorway. At this hour, the booze has been flowing for long enough where most of our guests are oblivious to our dramatic exit. I stay close to my parents, not knowing what the hell is actually happening but too afraid to ask the question.
Beads of perspiration pop up along the back of my neck and my chest tightens when I hear a whimper escape my mother’s lips. She squeezes me tight as we rush over to the black Escalade and slide into the backseat. My heart is about to explode out of my chest, but I wait until my father raises the partition before I let out a panicked shriek.
“What is happening?” I cry out. “Why did we just rush out of there like the place was about to be shot up? Did that man have something to do with me being taken?”
My parents exchange a look, their hands entwined. “I knew it was a bad idea to host this event,” my mother whispers, staring out the window. “It was too dangerous to put her in the spotlight like that after what happened.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand. “I’m tired of you both hiding things from me! I need you to be honest with me for once! Tell me who that man was and why his presence made you rush out of the gala!”
“I know you feel that you’re being kept in the dark,” Mama says, cupping my chin in her hand. She and Papa exchange a panicked look. “Just know that everything we do is to protect you, Serena. You have to understand that there are dangerous people out there who—”
But Mama’s words are replaced by a piercing scream. Her eyes widen, her face lit up by a bright light.
A headlight barreling straight toward us.
That’s the last thing I see before a pummeling force thrusts my body against the side of the car. The sound of crushing metal assaults my ears as our car skids across the road for what feels like a lifetime before it smashes against a tree, my own tortured cries muffled by the crash. Shards of glass fly through the air, slicing my skin like razors. The sharp edges puncture my face and arms, and I raise my arms in vain to protect myself. Streaks of blood stain every exposed part of my body. I try to move, to twist away, but a searing pain shoots down my spine.
“Ahh!” I yell, tears streaming from my eyes. My chest heaves as I try to draw in a breath. Short, sharp gasps are all I can manage, and each one hurts worse than the last. A sob rises in my throat. “Mama, Papa!” I rasp.
“Serena.” Mama’s voice is weak, but I can still hear it. But what about Papa?
“I can’t move! I can’t get to you!” I gasp, gripping the sides of the seat to pull myself up, and then fall backward against the leather seat. “Oh, God! It hurts too much!”
“It’s okay, mi amore,” Mama says, her faint voice cracking. “Help will be here soon and we’ll be just fine. I promise—”
Pop! Crack! Bang!
A hail of bullets pepper the sides of the demolished car, shattering what remains of the windows. Bullets ricochet off the metal, the scent of burning rubber and plastic making my eyes water. I grit my teeth and push myself off of the seat, crumbling to the carpet at my parents’ feet. Blood pools around my head, my breathing labored. My legs are numb to the point where I couldn’t move them if I tried.
I cry into the carpet as the deep red stain spreads around me, my tears mingling with the blood.
So much blood…
Just like the stains on Papa’s hands.
He could never rid himself of those stains...
With every bullet that explodes into the air, I pray.
I pray for my life and for my parents’ lives.
I pray that this isn’t the end, for any of us.
I pray that this is just a horrible nightmare and that any minute, I’ll wake up and we’ll all be safe.
Alive.
Happy.
It hurts to breathe, almost as if the shards of glass that pierced my skin punctured my
lungs. I clutch a hand to my chest, a gaggle of tears caught in my throat. A burning sensation shoots out to my left arm, incinerating every nerve in its path. I lie still, silent on the floor of the car. My eyes grow heavier and heavier until they finally droop closed.
Final thoughts flash across my mind as I tumble into darkness.
Help didn’t make it in time after all.
And nothing will ever be fine again.
Chapter Four
Diego
“Diego.”
A sultry voice slithers over my skin. But it’s not like a warm welcome breeze.
It’s more like a snake, and I’d recognize her breathy tone anywhere.
I remember back in the day when I thought it was hot as hell, the way she’d murmur against my ear in her sex kitten way.
But then I realized that her outer sex kitten was just a disguise for her inner rabid lioness.
Lioness. Satan. There really is no difference when it comes to her.
Via Fortunato.
The one who got away…was me.
And it was by the skin of my teeth.
I still can’t figure out why her father Nic let me go that night without putting a bullet into the back of my skull.
Did he send Via back to try and convince me to change my mind about his offer?
Like that would ever fucking happen.
Regardless, I have to wonder again about my fuck off signal. Maybe it’s not as strong as I think.
Or maybe I was hoping that Serena would make her way back out here, so I let it die out.
And despite the fact that Franco pretty much told me she’s off-limits to me, turning her away would be rude. I’d have to be the gentleman, and he’d just have to deal with it.
Even though it’s only been minutes since Franco left to join his family back in the ballroom, I’m still holding out hope that she’ll glide back out here with the smile that can light up the night sky more brightly than any array of stars ever could.
I roll my eyes as Via slides a hand down my back, my spine stiffening under her fingertips. “What do you want? I’m busy.”
Wanted: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men Of Mayhem Book 1) Page 3