Stolen Dove: Stolen Hearts Series

by Blake, Carina

  “Are you telling me you set this up?” My calm tone belies the seething rage amplifying by the second. Does he have no idea how much my mother means to me? The crazy son of a bitch has just signed his death certificate while being none the wiser.

  “No one makes me look stupid.” Nope. He’s a clueless idiot.

  “Too late. You’ve done that shit on your own. You’re weak, caving to the Sicilians just so you can get your rocks off,” I practically spit out in absolute disgust, which he fucking scoffs away.

  He waves his hand dismissively as if Benito’s life meant nothing. “Losing one guy isn’t enough to go to war with them. They’ve got enforcements in the States and Sicily.”

  “I’m surprised I didn’t come in to find you taking it up the ass by one of them, you fucking coward.”

  “Who the fuck are you to question me?” he roars, trying to intimidate me, which is futile because this man doesn’t inspire an ounce of fear in me.

  “I’m the head of the Serrano family,” I inform him.

  He chuckles. “You’ll have to pry it from my cold hands.” I’ve heard enough. I pull out my Sig Sauer and pop off one shot to his head. He flops down face first, hitting his desk and then bouncing to the floor with his pants still down. A smirk spreads over my face as the rush of satisfaction comes over me. He taught me how to kill and never let the enemy see weakness. Lesson learned.

  Fernando rushes in, and Benito Jr. and Gustavo follow with their guns out. Seeing the scene before them, they put them away. “El rey esta muerto. ¡Larga vida al rey!” Benito Jr. shouts.

  “¡Que viva el rey!” Fernando and Gustavo cheer together.

  “Dispose of this wretch. I have work to do.”

  “With pleasure. Forever in your debt.”

  “Viva la Casa de Serrano!” I roar.

  “Serrano!” They cheer. It’s time to clean house, and I will.

  “We have another visit to make.” We have to finish this morning’s business with my half brother’s bitch-ass errand boy.

  "Where the fuck is the rest of the staff?" I ask as I walk around the first floor of the house to determine how much I'm going to have to upgrade. Luckily, that prick didn't get a hold of my money or I'd have to kill him again. There are some things I can sell, but most of this shit is outdated and worthless. It'll just end up in the trash.

  "Most of them left when your father refused to pay them." I've been going over the books for the winery, and it's not doing terribly. We'll need more branding and a fuckton of marketing to bring it back to how it was when I left. My grandfather would be turning over in his grave to see his own grandparents' vineyard in its current state.

  "Refused to pay them?" It's not hard to see that he's been short on funds, but where is the money going? I'm guessing the Italians.

  "Yeah—the cook, the landscaper, even the new housekeeper booked it. That one in there earlier was vying for the position." The only position she was shooting for was the one on her knees.

  "I want this house renovated, and I'll be doing the hiring. "Felipe, make a note of everything we need to do to this place and what staff I can hire. At this point, I'll only need a housekeeper and cook and weekly grounds work. Get me a list of viable candidates, and none like that dumb broad that just left. I'm not looking to continue the cesspool going on. We'll be back this evening to go over everything." We shake on it, and Fernando and I get back in the SUV to deal with poor, foolish Oscar.

  We make it to the warehouse in record time across town as I change into a pair of disposable pants and a tee shirt. I don't need to ruin a good suit. When I slam the door open, my men smile and my enemy shrieks like a little girl. "What a greeting. Men, you can wait outside. It's about to get messy."

  I stare at the little fuck who tried to kill me this morning. His feet and hands are bound as he sits in a chair, pissing himself. I need to remind myself to redo this property for proper ventilation and drainage. He's scared, and he should be because he picked a fight with Satan himself, and I don't give second chances. "So tell me, Oscar." I pause, running the dull side of my knife under my chin, prolonging this moment. I want him ready to beg before I kill him. His legs shake with the little movement they are allowed, but it's the pooling puddle under his seat that brings a smirk to my face. "What the fuck possessed you to put a bomb in my motherfucking ride?"

  "The boss told me to," he blurts out.

  "Which boss—my father, or my stepbrother?"

  "Your father. Julio doesn't have control yet." I don't believe it, or at least there's more to the story. So there's a push from my stepbrother to take my father's spot. It's not that I didn't already see that coming, but I'm not going to let that little bitch get anywhere near the Serrano name. My family built the vineyard. That pussy's not taking that from me, no matter what he believes.

  "Why would my father want me dead?" That's not something that makes sense unless his resentment has grown out of control.

  "He didn't want you dead. He wanted to make you pay for your mother leaving, so he wanted your lapdog dead." He tilts his head to Fernando, who pushes himself off the wall and has his hands around his throat before Oscar can utter another word.

  "Lapdog, puddle boy. I'll rip your fucking head off myself."

  "Deja, Fernando. This fool is playing with the devil and doesn't even know it. No one is going to help him out of this."

  "What do you mean? Your father said..." I break out in a laugh that echoes in the empty building. I hear the sound of rain on the roof as if the skies opened up so the world could clean up after me.

  I lean forward and grab his face, squeezing his cheeks hard before slamming his head back and letting go. "My father's word means shit. You're dead either way. I was just deciding if I'll go slowly or fast. Frankly, at this point, it doesn't matter to me."

  "He's supposed to protect me," he whines.

  "Who?" I just need clarification.

  "Your father."

  "A dead man can't protect anyone."

  "What?" he gasps.

  Are you fucking kidding me? This fucker fainted. "Seriously, this pussy fainted. Get the bucket."

  Fernando grabs a bucket and then walks over to the hose, filling it with ice-cold water.

  "Son of a bitch," he grumbles as water splashes on his feet, which pisses him off so he launches the water into Oscar's face, shocking him awake, then in a fit of anger hits him with the bucket.

  "Do you feel better?"

  "A bit."

  "So what does Julio have to do with all of this?"

  "Nothing. He was supposed to be next."

  "What?"

  "After your mother, I was supposed to attack him so it would look like it was the Italians attacking his family, even the illegitimate ones."

  "You tried to kill my mother."

  "She didn't die either?" Oh, I’ve fucking had it. I whip out my gun and put slugs into his heart and head.

  The two came inside, soaking wet. "Clean this up. No one comes after my family. Ever. They will pay with their lives." I storm out of the warehouse, fuming with violent need.

  "At least you got the one who attacked your mother."

  "That is good. Now to deal with the rest of this mess. Are you coming?"

  "I'll drive." Good, because I'm not in the right frame of mind for this shit.

  1

  Victor

  Six Years Later

  “What’s your plan?” Hector asks, taking a seat in front of my desk and resting his foot over his knee while I walk over to my sideboard for a drink. I look at my brother who has grown into a man over the past six years. With a degree in finance, I made him my personal accountant and the treasurer for the organization. Having seen the fucked-up side to the supposed legal workings, he made his choice to come back and work alongside me.

  “I’m going to see if it’s worth doing business with the Americans,” I say, taking a sniff of my new bottle of the latest wine from our vineyard.

  “I went to school there.
The mafia’s in thick with the politicians and is hiding in plain sight. Depending on what you’re willing to pay, you can have anything you want,” he grumbles, twisting his lips to the side while I pour us a drink.

  Passing a glass to him, I sit in the same spot where I ended my father’s life, although this seat is my own. As the head of the Serrano family, I’ve made some changes: one of them was my father’s tacky office. For God’s sake, the old fuck had had a pinup poster of a naked woman on the back of the door like a teenage boy. My father partied harder than he worked, leaving me to clean up the mess, put the Sicilians in their place, and rebuild trust in my men.

  It’s been a rocky six years with a lot of bloodshed, but we made peace once the heir took over for the Vitali family. Not that I trust him, but a détente is for the best. They’re out of our territory, and they know never to cross me or the price will be more than they can afford to pay.

  Now, I need to ensure that no one, and I mean no one, tries to come at us when my companies are taking off so well.

  “You’re probably right, but I won’t let the damn Sicilians see even the slightest sign of weakness.”

  “There’s another Spanish crew in the north that are inching closer and closer to our town.”

  I rake my hand through my hair, then stand. “I know. I don’t want a war with these rat bastards, but I will—if they don’t get fucking lost, I’ll make them disappear.” Pacing my office, I consider my options. There aren’t many, because my father made us appear so weak that I take all acts against us seriously. We come at you full force, whether it is with guns blazing or clearing all your assets electronically, and we won’t stop until we’re satisfied. “I’m ready for anything. War or peace, the Serrano family will come out ahead.”

  “You’re right, brother. Are you going to see Mama before you go?” He shares a frown with me. Last week, my mother was diagnosed with heart disease. She’s not taking good care of herself and won’t let us hire someone to tend to her. The woman is as strong as she is stubborn.

  “Yes. I need to try to convince her to take her meds.”

  “It’s all his fault that she’s sick. If I could, I’d dig him up and shoot him again. Her heart wants to call it quits after years of abuse,” Hector says, shaking his head. I sit on the edge of my desk facing my little brother. At twenty-three, Hector’s determined to prove himself.

  “I know. I know. It doesn’t help that we haven’t given her grandbabies and that all of Dad’s bastard children have tons of kids.”

  “That’s because some of them are as fucked up as our dad.” Some of my half brothers hate us and would love to take the spot they feel they deserved. Blood or not, if they overstep their bounds, I pop all those assholes.

  “I’m glad we buried that fuck.” I’d gladly do it again. I haven’t regretted it and never will.

  “Damn right. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Guadalupe.” Lupe’s our winery manager who lives and breathes wine. Our last manager bailed out shortly after the bombing, claiming it was too dangerous for him. I was glad to see him go. Weak men like that bail when shit gets real, and I don’t have time to deal with people like him. I let him go, but he’ll never work for my family again.

  “Make sure everything is running smoothly. I’ll tell Mama you’ll be around later.” He constantly checks in on her because like me, he wants to keep her safe while giving her the independence she craves.

  “Gracias.” We stand, and I pull my little brother in for a hug.

  “Take care. Call me for anything,” I remind him. It’s not like I can do a lot from the States, but I want to know my mother’s okay.

  “You know I will.” We walk out, and my guards go with me while my brother’s men follow him out. Fernando meets me in the garage with more information that we need for our trip.

  “Are you ready?” I ask, tucking my keys in my pocket. The weather’s not bad today, but it’s fucking shit in the States.

  “Yes. Your bags have been loaded, and the weather is finally clear for travel.” We were supposed to leave two days ago, but first we were hit with some torrential rain, and then they were slammed with threats of hurricanes and large swells. I have a short window before the next storm comes knocking on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States. It’s now or never.

  “Please stop at my mother’s before we go to the airport,” I tell him, although he already knew I’d want to stop there before we leave.

  “Of course, Victor.” I drop my head back on the headrest and relax. Having this conversation with my mother isn’t something I want. I hate having to leave her when she’s so sick. The fear of losing her is real for my brother and me. My phone buzzes with an email from my lawyer. The acquisition of a property in Calabria was successful. I plan to build another restaurant and brewery in that spot. Bringing a smile to my face, I inform Fernando of the news. “The spot in Calabria is ours.”

  “Congrats, Victor. Maybe this deal with the Americans will be necessary.”

  “It will save us a lot of time and money without having to go through customs.”

  “And other suppliers. They’ve been known to bust up shipments ‘by accident’ to help their other connections.”

  “You make a valid point.”

  “Sir, we’re here.” I nod, glancing out the window before stepping out of the vehicle. That woman is going to be the death of me. I see her out on her swing, and she’s on her feet in a flash. I adjust my suit jacket to hide my gun and then walk to greet my mother.

  “Mijo,” my mother says, throwing her arms out for a hug as I step up to her portico.

  “What are you doing outside by yourself?” I grumble, hugging her tightly and lifting her off her feet. With a kiss on her cheek, I set her down. My mother is petite, maybe five feet tall, and just a waif of a woman now. She needs someone cooking for her.

  She leans back in my arms and slaps my chest. “I have Vicente here. I’m fine. No one has come or gone up that road until you pulled up, so you must relax. You won’t need any enemies to take you down when you give yourself a stroke.”

  I surrender and release her. “Fine. You know I don’t like you staying here all alone.”

  “Don’t start. Come inside for some coffee and some food before you leave.” She pats my chest and takes my hand, dragging me along like a little boy into the house.

  I stop just outside her front door. “Mama. Tell me you didn’t cook for me.”

  “I’ll always cook for my baby.” She pinches my cheek and walks inside. Standing guard is Vicente. He’s one of my younger guards, but he’s been with the family for eight years.

  “You don’t have to cook anymore. We have a cook waiting to make you anything you’d like. You should be resting and enjoying only the best life has to offer,” I say, watching her work by the stove stirring some eggs into a pan.

  “I know you mean well, Victor. Pero estoy contenta.”

  “It doesn’t change how I feel about it. You are all alone.”

  “Well, when you bring me some babies to care for, then I won’t be alone.”

  “If I ever give you grandbabies, you can move back into the house.”

  “The day you do, I’ll consider it. That house has memories I wish to forget.”

  I nod, knowing that she has a great point. Her scars run deeper than mine. I take a seat with a cup of coffee as she prepares a plate of breakfast for me. I’m grateful that I haven’t eaten yet today because I could never pass up her cooking. She flits around the kitchen cleaning up and then brings her coffee to the table and sits.

  “You must be leaving soon, si?”

  “Yes. I only intend on staying in New York for two days to settle business with a shipping company.” I blow on my papas con huevo before taking a bite. I can never resist her cooking.

  “Take your time. Take a vacation, find a wife,” she presses. Breakfast always comes at a price. The same price, actually. A family. She wants me to find someone that makes me happy and sta
rt to build on it, but it’s not like she’s going to fall into my lap and I’m gonna trust her with my heart and my secrets.

  “I doubt it works that easily,” I remind her.

  “It’s a big city and there are lots of women there. I have hope that you’ll find the one and just know.” She’s a bit of a romantic. I’m not sure how she can have such an outlook given her past, but I don’t want to dissuade her from a bit of joy.

  “The woman I marry will be my only one. I won’t be my father, so it may take forever to find the one to rule at my side.”

  “You’re a good man, but you’re not even looking for a woman.”

  “Hardly, Mama, but I will not be him,” I vow. Everything I do has been to prove I’m not him. I might run a less-than-legal empire, but it’s not a purely selfish rule. I take care of my village as well as those I employ. It’s more about protecting what I have than expanding.

  “Good. Then you better get going. The sooner you meet a woman, the better.”

  “Grandbabies. Always grandbabies.” I finish my plate and get up before she can set it in the sink. I see her bag of medicine on the counter.

  “Tomas su medicina?” I ask, waving the still folded bag.

  “No. I don’t like the feeling it gives me.” She stands and snatches it from my hand.

  “Mama, we aren’t ready to lose you.”

  Setting it on the counter, she claps her hands to her hips. “I’m sorry, but I want to go on my own terms, and it’s not yet. I’m made of more than that. I’ve never had control of my own life. First my father owned me and then sold me like chattel to your father, only to be at his mercy until his death.”

  “I know. We just love you so much.” I wrap her up in a tight embrace.

  “I know I’ve put you in a difficult spot.” She attempted to love my father, to make it a good marriage, but he wouldn’t stand for it. Everything was his way and solely for his benefit.

  “No, you have not. That bastard of a father did. I only get along with Maria Luisa.”