Wanted: A Dark Italian Mafia Romance (Men Of Mayhem Book 1)

by Kristen Luciani

  My quest for purpose and my ultimate rejection of revenge.

  I find a parking spot across the street and run toward the front door of the café, pulling it open. I swallow a groan and get in the line. There are about seven people in front of me and only one person taking orders.

  Fuuuuck.

  Vince is gonna be pissed. I’d better get him a coffee spiked with some shit that’s gonna take the edge off when I walk into that meeting an hour late. Because there’s no way I’ll get there any sooner the way this line is moving.

  Or rather, not moving.

  I tap my fingers on the glass display case where the decadent pastries call my name, and my stomach rumbles a response.

  My phone rings, and I groan when Vince’s name flashes. Again.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “You asshole,” he seethes. “I asked you to come straight here and you fucking had to stop! Are you trying to give me a goddamn stroke?”

  “Easy, killer. I needed an espresso. You want me to be focused, right?”

  “I’m focused on kicking your ass right about now.”

  “Ever hear that you attract more bees with honey than vinegar?” I quip.

  “How about arsenic? Do bees like that shit?”

  I snicker. “I had a late night. Or maybe it was an early morning. I don’t know. Either way, I need the caffeine. Sounds like you can use some, too. Maybe with a few shots of Sambuca on the side? Might make you nicer.”

  “Just get here,” he says before hanging up on me. “Or I might shove a foot up your ass.”

  I drum my fingers on the glass case again and let out a deep sigh as I peer at the clock hanging over the register. “To-fucking-day, lady,” I mutter at the woman taking the orders.

  The bell over the door jingles, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. I feel like the line has grown about a mile in the last few minutes, although now I can at least see the girl in front of the register giving her order. Well, I can’t see much beyond her perfect ass in those tight black legging things, but hey, at least it gives me something nice to look at while I wait.

  I furrow my brow, blinking fast and taking another long look.

  Wait.

  It’s the woman from the hotel lobby.

  Black cap, black sunglasses, black everything from her neck to the tips of her Nikes. This time, she’s turned away from me so I can’t get a closer look. And even though she’s speaking to the cashier, she’s far enough away from me that I can’t hear her voice.

  But there’s something familiar about her…more than just the physical.

  It’s her grace.

  Her presence.

  The air around her.

  It’s strange and ridiculous to even think it, but it all just reminds me of—

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the guy who just walked into the café. Greasy black hair, taut jaw, heavy black coat even though it’s seventy degrees outside. He takes a quick look around the place. Hairs on the back of my neck prickle, because you just never know when your past will finally catch up to you and blast you between the eyes.

  But his hard gaze doesn’t land on me. They land on the girl dressed all in black with the perfect ass at the counter. He reaches into his coat and grips something. Why the fuck is nobody else watching this guy? People are in their own little caffeinated bubbles, not paying a bit of attention to anything but their damn biscotti and phone screens. A ringing in my ears mutes the background noise, and my sole focus is on the girl who’s about to get her pretty little head blown off before she has her morning joe.

  Time slows as he pulls a gun from the inside of his coat and points it to the back of her head. Her long, dark waves tumble down her back in a ponytail, and her shoulders shake as a high-pitched laugh ripples through her.

  I can’t explain it, but I need to make sure that isn’t the last time I hear that laugh.

  He raises the gun, ignoring everyone around him. That was his first mistake.

  I launch myself at him before he can squeeze off the kill shot and tackle him to the floor. The gun fires at the ceiling, and holy hell breaks loose in the café. Screams pierce the air as the gun fires again. Plaster chunks crash onto my head as I wrestle the gun from the guy’s hand. I slam his arm down, trying to pry his fingers off the trigger, but he’s strong. And determined as hell to take that shot. He throws his body over me and rolls on top of me. I can see his fist coming from a mile away, so blocking it is easy enough.

  Guy really needs to learn some hand-to-hand combat if he’s got a prayer of being a halfway decent assassin.

  But it’s not me he gives a shit about. His mission is her.

  He sticks out his hand again once he finds his target in the crowd and fires off a shot. More screams tell me he might have hit something.

  Someone?

  Fuck, don’t let it have been her.

  I pound my fist into his junk and he groans, tumbling backward. I jump on top of him, clamping one of my hands around the gun and pounding the hell out of his bearded face with the other. He turns his murderous gaze toward me and smiles, a thin trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.

  “You can’t stop it,” he hisses. “She’s dead. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

  He uses his weight to force me backward and raises his hand in the direction of the brunette cowering behind a chair.

  Pop! Crack! Pop!

  She screams, diving to the floor as he struggles to his feet and staggers in her direction. I leap to my feet and grab a nearby chair, swinging it at his head. The gun fires once more before he collapses onto a table. It shatters under his weight and he crashes to the floor, the gun finally free of his death grip.

  My heart thunders in my chest as I grab the gun and stick it into the waistband of my jeans. The guy is down for the count, and that gives me just enough time to get the fuck out of the café before the place is crawling with the polizia.

  I push my way through the crowd and drop to my knees next to the girl whose life I just saved. She raises her tear-streaked face to mine and my breath catches.

  Fuck me.

  It’s her. It’s Serena Vitale, Franco Vitale’s daughter.

  “They’re coming for you,” I murmur, grabbing her hand. “I need to get you out of here now.”

  She stares at me for a second, her green eyes wide and filled with terror.

  “Serena, I’m gonna help you,” I say. “You can trust me. But we need to get out of here now.”

  Finally, she nods, her lip quivering. “Okay,” she whispers, gripping my fingers tight.

  A jolt zips through me as I pull her to her feet and block her body with mine as we run out of the café, leaving complete mayhem behind us. I rush her across the street, pull open the door to the SUV, and push her inside. I run around to the driver’s side and gun the engine. I peel away from the curb and make a sharp right down a nearby street, headed in the direction of my brother’s office. Short, sharp gasps escape Serena’s lips, her body shaking in the seat next to me. I want to pull over and wrap my arms around her so damn badly, but I can’t take a chance that the guy in the café wasn’t working alone.

  I sneak a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She clutches her chest, whimpering softly. “He knew it was going to happen. Oh God, what do they want? How did they even find us?”

  I keep my mouth shut, uncertain about whether or not I should contribute to her one-sided conversation. It’s not like I have anything valuable to add. I sure as hell don’t know who the hell is tormenting her family like this, but knowing what I do about her father, the list of potential assassins is probably pretty fucking long.

  She claps a hand over her mouth and a muffled scream erupts from her throat. Tears stream from her green eyes. She pulls off the sunglasses and baseball cap, letting her hair fall around her shoulders. Even as I’m darting around corners and down cobblestone streets to avoid another lethal assault, my eyes betray me by dropping to the deep vee of h
er shirt. Bitable ass, luscious tits. Jesus, the woman has a body made for sin. And my sick and twisted mind has already come up with plenty for her to commit as I rush her away from the city center and whoever is after her.

  That’s when it really hits home.

  “Holy fuck, that man was going to kill me! Right in the middle of the café! He had a gun to my head and you…you…” She sniffs, wiping her eyes with a corner of her shirt. “You saved my life. You don’t even know me and you risked your neck to save mine.”

  “I know enough.” I shrug and take a quick right turn. “Besides, it’s a nice neck. I like the head that’s attached to it. And the heart below it is really big. Worth the risk.”

  She stares at me for a second, her jaw dropping. I guess she’s trying to process a lot right now. Maybe she doesn’t get my humor. Or maybe I’m just not that funny. It’s always a possibility.

  Serena slaps a hand to her forehead. “Comic relief. I get it. I’m sitting here traumatized and you’re trying to make me feel better. I’m clearly a little slow on the uptake.”

  I grin. “I’ll give you a pass. This time.”

  “So, you like my neck. That’s why you jumped that guy back there? Is it something else, like you have a death wish? Or are you just freaking insane?”

  “Let’s just say that it’s probably a combination of all three.”

  “Okay, at least I know what I’m dealing with.” She turns to stare out the window, her shoulders quaking. “I need to call my father. He doesn’t know I left. But I must have dropped my phone when we ran out of the café.”

  That explains the lack of security. Franco thinks she’s still at the hotel.

  I toss my phone into her lap. “Here.” A sudden chill zips through my insides as Serena raises the phone to her ear. Her father and however many of his guys are staying at the same hotel Gianna and Alek are staying at…with Ava.

  Fuck.

  Visions of bloody massacres litter my mind. This is Palermo, after all. Cosa Nostra’s underworld playground. Whoever put the hit on the Vitales is using guys who are familiar with the area, guys who are stationed on every corner of this city.

  And they show no mercy when it comes to the art of elimination.

  Civilian casualties are just an acceptable and expected part of the process.

  My fingers grip the steering wheel tight as I pull around a corner and slam my foot on the brake, waiting for Serena to break the news to her father so that I can warn my sister to stay the hell inside her room.

  “Papa!” Serena’s voice cracks as she relays the near-miss at the café, pausing at intervals while her father no doubt rips her a new asshole for leaving the hotel by herself. But she doesn’t yell back. She doesn’t try to defend herself. She accepts whatever verbal lashing her father hurls at her.

  He’s scared.

  Hell, I am, too, and I don’t even know who the fuck is chasing them!

  My heart thumps against my ribcage as her sobs get louder.

  I know Alek likes to go for early morning runs.

  Harder…faster…

  Sometimes he takes Ava in the jogging stroller.

  A lump forms in my throat.

  I need that fucking phone back!

  I scrub a hand down the front of my face as Serena weeps into the phone.

  “He saved me, Papa.” Her eyes flicker over to mine, holding my gaze as if she’s afraid to look away, afraid to look at the world around her for fear of what might be staring back.

  Another longish pause, enough to get my pulse throbbing in my neck.

  “Okay,” she whispers, handing me the phone. “He wants to talk to you,” she mouths.

  I take the phone, still holding her gaze.

  “Thank you for saving my daughter,” Franco Vitale’s deep voice rumbles in my ear. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

  Job? What the hell is he talking about?

  Snippets of the conversation I had with these two at the gala a couple of months ago come rushing back.

  Maybe you are the guy.

  I’m still waiting for the answer.

  “She’s safe right now, but I don’t know for how much longer. The guy who came after her isn’t working alone. I’m sure whoever is targeting her has a lot of other eyes out there, just waiting for another opportunity. We need to get her someplace protected, somewhere away from your hotel because if they followed her to the café, they followed her from the hotel. You’re not safe there, either.” I take a deep breath. “And no disrespect, Mr. Vitale, but my sister and her family are staying at the same hotel, and I need to call them right now to tell them to lay low. Just in case.”

  “That would be a smart idea,” Franco concurs. “And you are right. Do not bring Serena back to the hotel. Take her straight to your brother’s office.”

  Vince’s office? How does he even know where that is? Why would he even mention it? I furrow my brow. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. We’re not prepared for—”

  “Oh, but you are.”

  I shake my head, feeling like I’m in The Twilight Zone. “No, he’s expecting me for a meeting. He doesn’t have an army of guys out there, just waiting around for some random siege to happen.”

  “If he listened to my instructions, he does.”

  I press my fingertips to my temples. I’m missing something. Something big. And this code word shit isn’t helping.

  “It doesn’t sound like you’re catching up fast enough, Diego, so let me help you out.” Franco clears his throat. “I’m the one your brother is meeting with. And judging from these troubling circumstances, I don’t know if I’ll make it in time.” He sighs. “Or at all. So you need to get Serena out of the city as fast as possible. And tell her I love her.”

  Click.

  My throat tightens. Did he really just hang up on me after telling me that he’s about to be iced by whoever is hunting them?

  “What did he say?” Serena whispers, toying with a strand of her hair.

  “He, uh, said to get you over to my brother’s place. You know, just until we can figure out another plan.” That sounds believable enough, right? And Vince always has a plan. He’ll come up with something. It’s his gift. It’s the angle crap all over again.

  Her head drops, tears spilling onto her leggings. “He’s not coming, is he?”

  I grit my teeth, debating how much to tell her.

  Jesus, I woke up to a literal shit storm today and it just hasn’t stopped.

  She sniffs and gives a quick nod. “Call your sister. Warn her.” Serena shakes her head, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left. I just wanted to remember what it felt like to not be a target. To just be like a normal person and get a cup of coffee without having to look over my shoulder.” She looks at me. “But I’m not. And I can’t. I have to accept that.”

  “Hey,” I whisper, covering one of her hands with mine. “If you hadn’t snuck out of the hotel this morning, nobody would know those people were so close until it was too late. You saved a lot of lives by making that very stupid move, including your father’s.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “It was a pretty weak attempt, I know.” I dial Gianna’s number and hold the phone up to my ear. “But I promise I’ll come up with something better. It’s still pretty early, and I had to leave the café before getting my triple espresso.”

  Serena giggles through her tears, and the sound actually makes my heart beat a little faster. I’d heard it at the gala, then again this morning in line at the café, and now again.

  It’s perfect.

  It makes me feel tingly and warm inside, not that I’d ever admit it to anyone.

  I might lose my guy card for saying that out loud.

  But damn, I wanna bottle that shit.

  It does the job a hell of a lot better than my friend Jack Daniel’s.

  “Diego!” Gianna’s high-pitched voice is laced with panic. “Oh, my God!
Where are you?”

  “Gi, what’s wrong?” Terror grips me. Jesus Christ, I’m too fucking late! “Is it Ava or Alek?”

  My sister cries into the phone. “Alek went out to pick something up for breakfast, but he still hasn’t come back! I’ve been trying to call him, and he won’t answer!”

  “Okay, calm down.” Sweat drizzles down my back and I slam a hand against my forehead. “How long has he been gone?”

  “Twenty minutes, but that’s not why I’m so panicked. I heard shots in the hallway, Diego! There’s a gunman here, and I don’t know where my husband is! What if he’s hurt? I’m too scared to go downstairs. Nobody is answering at the front desk, and I have the baby—"

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  I need to make the call.

  “Gi, take a few deep breaths, okay? I’m coming for you guys, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  God, the days of not having responsibility over other people’s lives…it was so much less stress.

  Why the fuck did I think I wanted it any other way? I must’ve had a weak moment. Or a drunken one.

  Be careful what you wish for…

  “Okay,” she says, sniffling. Then she lets out an ear-piercing shriek.

  “What is it?” I yell, throwing the car into drive and racing out of the secluded alleyway back toward the city center.

  “I don’t know! I hear yelling outside. And more shots. Oh, God! What if he tries to come up here? What if he’s hurt? I have no idea what’s going on in the lobby, but I hear sirens! Diego, I don’t know what to do!”

  I search the streets for my tall, dark-haired brother-in-law as I drive back in the direction of the hotel. Fucking guy. He couldn’t have just ordered room service, huh?

  I take an alternate route, hoping the polizia isn’t camped outside of the back exit. “Gi, stay next to your phone. I will call you right back, okay?”

  “Don’t you dare get off the phone with me! I’m flipping the fuck out right now!”

  My eyes sweep over faces to my left and right. Alek isn’t among them. “Gi, I have to get help. There’s something bigger than you know going on and I need backup. Plus, I’ve gotta find Alek.”

  Her voice shakes. “O-okay,” she says. “But call me back as soon as you hear anything, please!”