Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1)

by A. J. Daniels

  One year after the incident in my office, she went on her first date, and it took everything in me to not rip the bastard to pieces. The beast in me wanted to drag her away and claim her as mine, but fuck, I couldn’t. I would not be the reason for the life to dim in her eyes.

  That was the shit of it though, wasn’t it? Because for almost a full year, I was the reason why she was holed up in her apartment, barely a shell of the person she was.

  “Boss.”

  Antonio, my best friend since childhood, strolls into my office, followed closely by Alessandro, my second-in-command and the Capo Bastone of our famiglia.

  “You’ll get her back, Brax,” Antonio says, handing me a tumbler of whiskey.

  “Yeah, Boss. Already got Soldiers on it. There isn’t a place on this earth where they can hide and we won’t find them. They’re good as dead.” Alessandro crosses his arms in front of his chest and scowls at me, his eyes going from grey to black as the darkest night.

  I nod and down the whiskey in a single gulp. It doesn’t surprise me that these two are here without me calling them and telling them about the picture on my phone that had my blood running cold. I trust these men with my life, they’re my brothers, my famiglia. Blood may not connect us, but death brought us together. And they are the only ones I trust with helping me bring Klara home. They’re the only ones I trust with her life.

  “Has Gio traced the number that sent the message?” My voice is hoarse, rough. And I try like hell to get a hold of myself. I can’t fall apart now. Not when my woman needs me more than ever. I’m supposed to be the fucking Don. I mentally slap myself at the same time I refill the glass tumbler in my hand.

  Alessandro tips his chin in a slight nod. “They’re waiting for you.”

  I down a second refill of the whiskey, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “It’s showtime, boys.”

  Alessandro’s grin is sinister. He fucking lives for this stuff. For the thrill of the chase, the reward of the blood that will inevitably flow, the power of the kill. He’s the kind of man you want working for you, not against you. He’s the monster you pray doesn’t come after you in the middle of the night. But Alessandro, he still doesn’t have anything on me.

  I’m the thing the monster is afraid of.

  I’m the thing the worst nightmares are made of.

  “Boss.” Gio nods as soon as we step foot into the concrete basement thirty minutes later.

  You’d never know this room was here. A torture chamber of sorts in the middle of downtown. It was part of the reason why I bought this building and had them make the basement fully concrete with extra sound proofing… just in case. The other reason being that the building was not purchased in my name. The one and only thing purchased in my name were the small block of offices holding my financial company upstairs. If by chance things were to go south and this basement was to be considered, it would never trace back to me. Lesson number one my father had taught me.

  “What do we have here?” I ask, eyeing the already bloody man tied to a chair in the middle of the dark room.

  “Number that sent that picture is in his name.”

  “P-Please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I d-d-didn’t send no picture,” he stutters, pulling on his restraints.

  He thinks pleading to my humanity might save him from his fate. It’s almost laughable really. There’s no humanity fucking left in me. There hasn’t been for a long time.

  “Shut up!” Gio roars, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw.

  I stand back and watch the scene play out before me, but the more Gio lays into him, the more he insists he didn’t send a picture, that he has no idea about a girl.

  “Enough of this!” I bellow, and all movement in the room stops. I size up the man sitting hunched forward in the chair, blood pouring from the various wounds on his face, his eyes swelling shut, and then to Gio. Casually, I slide my hands into the pockets of my designer suit pants and shrug. “No need to keep him around if he doesn’t know anything then. Finish it,” I command then turn to let Gio and Alessandro have their fun.

  “Wait! Wait! S-Someone, a man, came into my store and asked to use the phone. The store phone was down so I let him use my cell. P-Please, that’s all I know,” the man begs.

  All breathing ceases in the room, and I can feel three pairs of eyes on me as I turn back to the bloody mess. If he thinks he can play me with that bullshit excuse and I’ll let him walk then he has another thing coming. “Do you have a description of this man?”

  He nods violently. I’m almost afraid he’s going to break his neck before my boys will have the chance.

  I nod at Alessandro. “Get the description.” I pause. “Then finish it, but make it quick. Ma is expecting us at the dinner table tonight.”

  “W-What, why? I… Please don’t kill me.”

  “Would love to, but you’re collateral damage.” I shrug and then exit the room.

  ***

  “Ma, let me do that,” I scold my mother and reach for the heavy dish in her hands. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Gio and Alex – Alessandro – sneak into the dining room in hopes that my mother didn’t notice they were late.

  I smirk, knowing that she noticed because very little gets by my mother.

  “Giovanni Russo and Alessandro Ferrara, you better have washed up before sitting down at my dinner table.” My mother eyes both men.

  “Wouldn’t’ve dared not to, Mrs. De Luca,” Gio supplies for the both of them.

  Dinner goes off without a hitch. Ma’s cooking, as always, is spectacular, and if I wasn’t about to hop on a plane I would’ve had a second—or third—helping. But I know my boys are sitting on the information I need to get one step closer to finding my girl and bringing her home.

  When we’re done, the three of us help Ma bring the plates back to the kitchen, despite all her protests, then we each kiss her on the cheek and head back to my office.

  “Well?” I stalk toward the wet bar and pour myself a healthy glass of whiskey. I don’t offer a drink to the men standing behind me. They know they can get their own drink them-damn-selves. I’m not their servant.

  “You’re not going to like this Braxton.” Gio shifts from one foot to the other.

  My name used to grate on my nerves. I’m the only one in the famiglia with an English first name and an Italian last name. Braxton didn’t fit.

  But somehow, when it was leaving Klara’s lips while I pounded into her, that was the only time I didn’t mind it. Fucking loved it, actually. I sigh, taking a seat behind my desk and run a hand through my hair.

  “Well, stop pussy-footing and get to it.”

  Alessandro’s gaze turns cold, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “It was one of Dante’s men.”

  “The fuck did you just say?”

  “The one who sent the picture of Klara. It was one of Dante’s men.”

  The whiskey I just drank turns sour in the pit of stomach. Fuck me, if it was true and Dante really did have Klara, she could be anywhere in the fucking world by now. It had barely been twenty-four hours since she was taken, but that didn’t mean shit in our world. If Dante meant for her to disappear, then disappear she would. At least until her body showed up months, maybe even years later.

  Dante was one sick fuck. But that didn’t surprise me in the least, because he was my cousin. An estranged cousin, but a cousin nonetheless.

  “You sure?”

  Both men tip their chin in a nod. “I’d bet my life on it,” Gio adds.

  “What do you want to do, Boss?” Alessandro asks after several beats of silence.

  My answer was automatic. I didn’t have to think about it. There was no way I was going to let Klara go without a fight. Without even trying to find her. Fuck that. I would find her. And there’ll be hell to pay for any fucker stupid enough to get in my way. Blood or not. They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. My cousin and his men better get ready, because they’re on a one-way
trip to hell. My hell.

  The beast inside me was calm whenever Klara was around, and now with her gone he was pacing the confines of his cage just itching for me to budge an inch. An inch was all he needed to escape. Fuck, I might let him out to play anyway.

  “We go get her.”

  THE CLUB MY cousin owns is a warehouse in the west end of Toronto. By the looks of the outside, you would never guess that beyond the steel door is pristine, upper class—read: invite only—nightclub. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling in various lengths, blood red velvet curtains separate the VIP rooms from the dance floor. When the lights are off, save for the strobe lights, the entire place is cast in darkness. Shadows. The white dance floor in the middle of the dark stone floor the only beacon of light.

  It’s just enough to put you at ease as any other nightclub would, while still being overly aware of the monster lurking in the shadows.

  Fitting. Considering who owns the club and just how fucked up our family really is.

  “Club doesn’t open for several hours, boys. You’ll have to come back then.”

  My eyes rake up the scrawny man standing a few feet in front of us. Either he’s a new in town, or has a fucking death wish. Everyone in this city knows who I am.

  A snarl sounds to my right, and I hold up my hand, never breaking eye contact with the shit in front of me, to stop Gio from pushing forward and ending this punk’s life too soon.

  “Do you know who I am?” I ask with a smirk.

  “No, and I don’t care. Like I said, club doesn’t open for several hours. You’re welcome to come back then.”

  The kid pivots on his heel and goes to walk away. He doesn’t get far when both Gio and Alessandro jump into action. Each grabbing an arm, Alessandro pushes the kid’s face into the newly cleaned surface of the bar.

  Rolling up the sleeves of my black dress shirt, I take a stand on the other side of the bar, eyeing the various liquor bottles on the wall in front of me until they land on the most expensive whiskey my cousin has to offer.

  I take my time reaching for a crystal tumbler and pouring myself a couple fingers worth of the rich, amber liquid. Enjoying the way the little shit is squirming under Alessandro’s bruising hold.

  I down the first drink, and pour another. “You know, I had intended on only coming in here to see if my cousin had made an appearance today, but then you had to go and disrespect me.”

  He stops squirming and visible pales under the strong hand holding him in place. “Y-You’re Braxton De Luca.”

  “Ah, so you have heard of me.” I tip the tumbler in a cheers gesture before bringing it to my lips. Fuck, I love watching people’s reactions when they realize that they fucked up, and could very nearly pay with their lives. All because of a stupid mistake.

  “Look, man, I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m new here and didn’t realize who you were.”

  There was very little our famiglia wouldn’t do. Not a line we wouldn’t cross for the right amount of money, or power. Hell, or both. After all, with money comes power. But what I couldn’t stand? What I had very little patience for, was anyone hurting women and children, and disrespect.

  I don’t care who you are, if you disrespect me, my family, or anyone I know chances are you won’t be leaving our encounter with all your limbs intact, and if you really cross me I won’t think twice about taking your life.

  I tip my chin in a nod and watch as Gio and Alessandro flip the kid onto his back over the bar, his head mere inches from the edge.

  “You disrespected me once and I let it slide. But then you went and disrespected me again, man.” I emphasize the word, letting him know exactly where he went horribly wrong. “And that… that I just can’t let slide.”

  Alessandro’s big hand presses down on the boy’s forehead effectively tipping his chin up at the same time Gio holds his arms down and my fingers wrap around the glass bottle.

  “Time for a lesson in respect. I expect you to listen up and pay attention, because there’ll be a quiz after.” I pinch his nose closed with one hand, forcing his mouth to open, and with the other tip the head of the bottle down causing a stream of the golden liquid. “Lesson one. Never fucking call me man. It’s Sir, or Mr. De Luca.”

  I tip the bottle back, stopping the flow, and release my hold on his nose. He sputters and chokes trying to fight off the grip on his forehead and the ones pinning him in place.

  “Are you ready for your second and final lesson?” I ask.

  “No. Fuck, no, I’m so sorry. I’ll never—”

  His pleas get cut off when my name is hollered from the VIP curtains to my right.

  “Braxton!”

  That voice. It’s been years, but I’ll never forget the sound of that voice. The clacking of her heels against the stone floor add to my growing irritation.

  “You never did know how to play nice,” she says, coming to stop at my side. Her flowery scent swirling around me.

  There was a time when I would’ve had her back pressed into the wall, my cock buried so deep inside her that she wouldn’t be able to speak for interrupting my business like the way she just had. But now, now my cock barely takes notice of her anymore. Might have something to do with her leaving me for my fucking cousin two days before our wedding day.

  “And you never did know how to mind your own fucking business, Amanda.”

  “Ah, but see…” She shifts closer, running one long manicured finger down my bicep. “This kind of is my business. I’m part owner of this club, Luca, and he is one of my employees.”

  “Not for long,” I growl, turning back to my previous task but Amanda sidles up against me, pushing her fake tits into my arm, while her fingers roam down my pecs.

  My fingers wrap around the wrist of her roaming hand and I spin, backing her into the wall of liquor bottles so hard that the sound of glass shattering echoes around us. But Amanda grins, bucking her hips into mine.

  “Always did like it rough,” she purrs, and I snarl baring my teeth.

  “Cut the shit, Amanda. Where’s Dante?”

  “Not here.” A long leg wraps around my hip. “I’ve missed you, Luca. I’ve missed having you throw me around like this and then fuck me senseless. I miss this big…” her other hand reaches down and squeezes my limp cock, “dick,” she pants.

  I grip her other wrist, cutting off her hold on me and raise both her hands above her head. “He’s not in the mood for whore pussy right now,” I growl, satisfied when my hit lands and anger flames behind her dark eyes. Eyes as dark as her fucking heart.

  “What, you get a taste of virgin pussy and all of a sudden you forget who you are? You forget what makes you fucking you.”

  I move fast. Fingers curling around her throat, both hands bound together in one of mine and then I let a little of the beast show. “Where is she?”

  Amanda stills, nostrils flaring, her chest raising fast with her heavy breathing. “She’s not here. Dante wouldn’t say where he was taking her. Just that she would make him the most money. The best for his best buyers.”

  Despite her claims, Amanda never could handle all of me. She could handle the Don, but the beast was darker, more violent, he had a penchant for the taste of blood. I know she would sing if I gave her a glimpse of what was hiding beneath the surface.

  It wasn’t lost on me that I had officially come full circle. I was standing in the very club where I first met Klara, watching her on the dance floor and wondering what it would take for me to convince her to leave with me that night. Now, I was standing here looking for her. Wondering what it would take for me to get her back in my arms. Where she belongs. And safe.

  “Where’s your husband, Amanda?” I demand, my fingers tightening around her delicate throat. I can feel her pulse beat rapidly beneath my fingers, and it only serves to feed my need for blood.

  “I-I don’t… please, Braxton, you’re choking me,” she wheezes, her wrists rolling under my grip trying to break free.

  My grip around her throat tightens
even more while I run the tip of my nose up her jaw. “Thought you said you liked when I got rough. Missed it even.”

  Her lips part as she struggles to take in breath after breath, her eyes widening in fear. I know if I add a little more pressure it’ll be damn near impossible for her breathe and after a several seconds her body will start to go limp. My fingers twitch with my indecision. The beast is growling, wanting me to end her, to satisfy the craving momentarily. But the man knows that without her Dante will be in the wind and I need to track him down if I have any hope of bringing Klara home alive.

  Frustrated by my indecision, I abandon my grip around her wrists and yank her forward before shoving her back against the glass again. Her head bouncing off the cracks, her eyes momentarily closing when I run a hand down the side of her face even while the grip around her throat doesn’t waver.

  “Where is he, Amanda? Not going to ask again. You’ve already tested my patience.”

  She claws at my arms, her fake nails leaving little scratches in their wake. “I don’t—”

  “Boss,” Alessandro interrupts. I mentally shake myself. I had forgotten that we weren’t along in the club, and that they had the punk who worked here bent over the bar. I hadn’t heard a sound out of them so I’m assuming Gio or Alessandro knocked the kid out.

  “What!” I bark, never turning my eyes away from Amanda.

  “Word on the street is Dante went into hiding after hearing you were on your way here.”

  “Pussy,” Gio mumbles under his breath and my lips twitch in a smirk.

  My cousin never did have any balls when it came to confronting me or me him. If he got word that I was pissed and looking to take it out on him, he would go running until something else distracted me and the coast was clear. Seems like nothing has changed, except this time there would be no distractions, and I won’t be stopping until my concrete floor runs red with his blood and anyone else who got between me and Klara.

  “Get all the soldiers on it. I want every fucking inch of this city searched, and I want to know the minute he emerges or if he leaves.”