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Devious: A Dark Mafia Arranged Romance (A Villain Collection Book 1)

Page 2

by J. M Stoneback


  “Yes, daddy,” she says with sarcasm and I stand up from the table. I’m late to my meeting and a torture session thanks to my fiancée.

  “Good, girl.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “Luckily for you, it gets my dick hard. The more you mouth off to me, the more I’m tempted to take your virginity.”

  She gulps loudly, and her cheeks turn a bright pink, probably pink as her pussy.

  “I’m going to be late for dinner so don’t wait up for me.”

  I leave the condo and my driver, King, opens the door and I slide in the backseat.

  King gets into the driver’s seat and pulls out of the garage. I have a meeting with my underbosses on distribution of weapons and the war with the Irish mob. The drive is three hours to the Hamptons, but it seems like forever. We pull up to the manor and I glance over at the green spidery plants covering my Victorian home and the expensive cars parked near the water fountain.

  The manor used to belong to my father before he passed away, but I use it as a vacation spot.

  King parks the car into a spot in my three-car garage and I walk into my study. My underbosses sit in the other executive chairs dressed in expensive suits, drinking my liquor.

  I clear my throat and their eyes are on me. When I perch on the chair, my maid pours me a glass of bourbon.

  “Men, let’s get this meeting over with,” I say, unbuttoning my black dress jacket, setting it on the back of the chair.

  My consigliere, Enzo, stands on my right, and my twin brother, Aiden, stands on my left side. I have to admit, I didn’t want to leave my future wife alone, not because I give a rat’s ass about her but because I want to break her in more ways than one, but duty calls to me. Lex slouches in the far corner and he grits his teeth. The only reason why he told Roselyn to marry Atrocious was so he could try to escape the unpaid debt he owes me. I should have put a bullet through his head a long time ago, but he was my father’s best friend and he’s a damn good underboss. He had something I wanted, a young naive wife, who I can control, but if he steals from me again, I will end his life. “First thing first. Irish soldiers are getting more ruthless and killing our men. We have had twelve of our men die this past week and I can’t find Cashel anywhere. So have our guys torture them until you get answers out of them, If they failed to give you information, kill them. I will not rest until we find Cashel.”

  All their eyes are glued to me and Aiden places his hand on my shoulder. I declared war with the Irish mob because Cashel slept with my fiancée. We were best friends at one point. He needs to be taught a lesson for betrayal. And I will not rest until I have his head on a silver platter decorated with veggies on the side.

  “I’m getting married in the next two weeks and I expect all of you and your familiga to be there. I’m marrying Lex’s daughter.”

  “Didn’t Lex owe you money?” Homer asks. He’s the underboss of the New Jersey territory. His gray eyes beam at me. He got promoted a couple years ago. So, he’s still young and dumb. But I didn’t think he was dumb enough to challenge me.

  He’s trying to throw Lex under the bus because he wants me to put him over New York’s territory. It’s one of the things I hate about having underbosses, they want bigger territories because they get more money. Lex has been working the area ever since I was a kid. The cops know him and don’t fuck with him because of his reputation.

  “How is it your business?” I ask.

  “You’re growing soft because he’s standing here alive, ” Homer answers. He’s a fucking clown. He places his hand on the back of his head.

  “I thought you would be vicious like Draco or like Villainous and kill him.” Villainous is Aiden’s street name. “I thought our Don didn’t give out second chances and was known for his brutal killings.”

  My expression is stoic, and I place my hand on my Glock. “You want me to show you how ruthless I am?”

  Not giving him a chance to respond, I grab my Glock from my holster, aiming it at his forehead, pulling the trigger. Blood, bone, and brain matter decorate the white wall and my oak floor. His lifeless corpse slouches on the marble table. Alonzo, Enzo’s son, moves to the next empty chair. Everyone is quiet until Aiden’s voice cuts through the silence. “Anyone else want to question my brother as Don?”

  They all shake their heads and I tuck my gun back into my holster. “Aiden call Charlotte.”

  Charlotte is our in-house cleaning crew who takes care of bloody corpses. “A few of you drag the body into the hallway.”

  A couple of men grab the body and drag it against the dark brown wooden floor, leaving a trail of blood. The smell of copper burns my nostrils.

  Aiden and the rest of the men waltz back inside, and I say, “I’m expanding territory all the way to Georgia and apparently, I need someone else to replace Homer’s position. He oversees the brothels and the strip clubs.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lex volunteers.

  I nod. “This ends our meeting.”

  Everyone scatters like roaches out the room, except Aiden. He sits in the chair across from me, sizing me up.

  “She looks like Shelby.” Aiden says, running his fingers through his dark hair. Even though we’re twins, we are like night and day. My brother is covered in tattoos and more cut than I am. He grabs a cigarette from the back of his ear, props it between his lips, and lights the cigarette. Yes, Roselyn does, but when I told Lex I wanted his daughter, I had no idea she looked like her.

  “Marrying someone who looks exactly like her, isn’t going to bring her back, bro.” He blows smoke from the corner of his mouth. My brother has always expressed his opinions on shit even when you don’t ask, but he means well.

  “I didn’t know she looked like her. I don’t want to talk about my dead fiancé,” I snap, leaning my elbow onto the table. Charlotte’s cleaning crew wipes the blood from the walls and table.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I know Aiden is trying to be a good brother, but his words don’t stop my guilty conscience. My throat is dry and my hands tremble. The way the bullet pierced her tiny chest and I tried to perform CPR to revive her burn in my mind. I shake my head, trying to wipe away the memory from my brain.

  “She got what she deserved,” Aiden responds, rubbing his index finger on his chin.

  Aiden and Shelby never got along. He thought of her as beneath me and she was controlling and tore us apart. Aiden and I have always been close. I tried to protect him from the sexual abuse mom has put him through.

  “Instead of worrying about what I’m doing, don’t you need to be delivering guns?” I snap, tension rolling on the back of my shoulders.

  He gets up from the table and throws his hand in the air, before leaving the room. I sit in complete silence, listening to the air conditioner blow out air. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with a whore. I shouldn’t have tried to save her from her trailer park life. I wouldn’t have to walk around with the hole in my heart. Pain is something I’ve known all my life. From dealing with abuse from Draco to having my heart broken. So, I will not fall in love with Roselyn. I don’t need the heart ache.

  Roselyn

  EXHALING, I TUCK THE BUTCHER knife under the soft mattress in our bedroom. I swiped it when the maid was busy cleaning the table. Devious has another thing coming if he thinks I’m going to roll over and allow him to take my virginity. If I want any freedom, I need to escape this lavish hellhole. So, killing Devious is my only option. I’m going to contact my friend, Tommy, to make fake IDs and passports, then I’m going to book a trip to Frankfurt, Germany. I have enough cash in my bank account to rent out an apartment and buy necessities. I’m going to do what I always wanted to do, be a street artist.

  I stand in front of the gigantic mirror, brush my straight white teeth, then I grab a thick cotton towel, which probably cost a fortune and scrub my face. Once I’m finished, I toss the towel in the hamper then I pad to the living room. Slowly, I sit on the black leather couch and the lace fabri
c of my panties rubs against my skin I hiss like a snake.

  The doorbell rings and a soldier, wearing all black, opens the door. His chestnut hair is in a neat bun and his muscles are lean as if he’s built like a runner. Is this Max? The soldier who is supposed to be my bodyguard.

  I stand up from the luxury couch, wiping my palms on my baggy pants. Marla strolls in, with her head high as if she owns the place. Her hazel eyes drink me in from my hair all the way down to my fire red colored toenails.

  “Oh, dear. No wonder Devious told me you needed a new wardrobe. You look like you raided Freddy Kruger’s closet and got lost in it.” She leans down, unzipping her Louis Vuitton bag. “I’m going to take your measurements then I’ll order your wedding dress and a new wardrobe.”

  “Do I get to pick out what I want to wear?”

  “No. Devious gave me strict orders not to. Congratulations on the wedding by the way. I didn’t expect him to marry someone so young but then again, I think about what kind of man he is, and I shouldn’t be surprised. Now, hold out your arms.”

  “What kind of man is he?” I hold out my arms. I’ve heard what kind of man he was. When I used to listen to Papa’s conversations with the other men who would come over for meetings, he would say Devious is known for his brutal killing and is blood thirsty for anyone who is doing him wrong. He’s the devil who haunts your nightmares.

  She uses her tape measure and extends it to my upper arm all the way down to my hand. “He likes young women so he can manipulate and control them. And he has a type.” She wraps the tape around my waist, then my chest. “Blonde hair, blue eyes and petite.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m assuming you have a smart mouth.”

  I shrug, but don’t respond. Papa told me my mouth will get me in a great deal of trouble.

  “You look like his fiancée. She died two years ago.”

  “How did she die?”

  “I’m not supposed to say. Devious would be furious if I told you.”

  “Was he in love with her?”

  “Yes, he loved the hell out of Shelby. After her death, Devious was so broken up inside he went on a killing spree.”

  I never thought in a million years Devious could fall love with someone or he had ever been in love.

  “Have you ever slept with Devious?”

  As she pulls out her iPad, she taps the screen, she laughs lightly. “Oh no. I’m his cousin on his mother’s side.” She pauses. “Before he put me in charge of running his household. I used to bring women to his bed when he didn’t have time to find one.”

  “Since you know him so well, do you know he forced me into marrying him?”

  “Again, his behavior doesn’t surprise me. Whatever Devious wants, he gets.” She half shrugs then she stuffs the tape measure and iPad into her bag. She gives me another once over.

  “Twirl around.” She rests her index finger on her cheek, and I stand on my tippy and twirl like a ballerina. “I have the perfect evening gowns to fit your body type. Welcome to the famiglia.” She cups my face, plants a soft kiss on my cheeks. “I’ll see you Friday to drop off your dresses.” Then she exits the condo.

  I sit back on the couch. The bodyguard proceeds to head towards the kitchen.

  “Is your name Max?”

  He nods.

  “Can you take me to my grandpa’s house?”

  He nods again.

  After eating lunch, we drive to my Nonno’s house. I want to see him one last time before I kill my soon to be husband.

  When I knock on the wooden door, his nurse Holly opens up. She tilts her head to the side, examining Max like he’s eye candy and her cheeks flush the color of a pink Starburst. Then she glances back at me. “Roselyn. It’s so good to see you.” She has her hair tied into a neat ponytail and her bronze skin is glowing. Her belly peaks from under her tan shirt. She looks like she’s due any day.

  “How is he?”

  She beckons us in and Max stands by the outside of the door, with his arms folded across his hard chest.

  “He had a bad fall this morning, but he’s okay.” I don’t miss the sorrow in Holly’s tone. Pain burns in my chest. Grandpa’s health is depleting and there is nothing I can do about it. Papa doesn’t give a shit about him so I’m the only person who hasn’t given up on him.

  His Alzheimer’s is progressing really fast. Last week, we had to put adult diapers on him because he forgot how to use the bathroom. I clear my throat. “You can take your hour lunch.”

  “Thank you. I already changed his diaper. It’s time for him to eat.” She grabs her purse from the coat rack and leaves us alone.

  I bounce to the kitchen, open the vintage fridge, and grab the container of chicken noodle soup and warm it up in the microwave. I mentally thank Holly for not feeding him and allowing me to do it, because I want to help him as much as I possibly can.

  Sadness lingers in my chest at the thought of having to leave here, while I will be living far away from him, but the mafia is no place for a woman. It’s a man’s world. Most women who are raised in the mafia, would be thrilled to marry a Don. It brings power and wealth, but you can’t put a price on a peace of mind and freedom.

  The microwave beeps. I remove the container, grab the folding table and head to the living room. Grandpa perches on his dingy yellow recliner watching Matlock. Bending down, I plant a soft kiss on his rubbery, wrinkle cheek.

  His dull brown eyes narrow. “Hey, Cosetta. How is Lex?” A smile paints his face. He wears a checkered shirt with khakis pants. His white hair is thinning so I can see his scalp.

  “I’m not Cosetta. I’m her daughter, Roselyn,” I explain.

  He examines me as if I’m the confused one, then recognition flickers across his face.

  “It’s been weeks since I last saw you.” He saw me the day before yesterday, but I don’t bother correcting him. I was told I look so much like my mother.

  I place the portable table over his lap, sit his bowl on the table, then I grab a napkin and tuck it in his shirt. I dip the spoon in the soup and bring it to his mouth.

  He spits his food out. The clear liquid drips down his wrinkle chin. I use a napkin to wipe him. “This is nasty, sweet pea. You’re trying to send me to an early grave. Put some salt in it.” He pouts like a five-year-old.

  “You know you’re not allowed to eat salt. You have hypertension.” I dip the spoon in the soup and bring the spoon to his mouth again.

  “Where is my daughter in law? She hasn’t visited me in a long time. Nor has my son.” He frowns.

  I continue to feed him. I don’t have the heart to tell him she passed away a year ago from overdosing on her medication. My mama suffered from bipolar and depression. Papa wouldn’t take care of her. He left her in the hands of strangers while he ran around with the next young woman he could find. She overdosed on her medication to get away from this lifestyle.

  “She’s busy right now and so is Papa. You know how it is in the mafia. When the job calls, you have to stop what you’re doing to attend to it.” My cheeks flush and I feel bad for lying, but I don’t want him to spend the next few minutes in mourning. Imagining myself away from him is unbearable and my eyes water with tears. Growing up, he stood up for me when Papa used to verbally attack me. He has been my number one cheerleader at all my ballerina and art shows. He acts more like my papa, than my real papa.

  “I’m going away soon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To Frankfurt, Germany. I’m going to live there for a while.” Tears stings my eyes. The thought of leaving him makes my stomach turn. He’s my best friend.

  “Will you be back?”

  I remove the empty bowl and set it on the kitchen table. He’s not going to remember what I said in the next hour or so. but it feels better to share my plans with someone else. When I return to the living room, I sit on the sofa next to him. My gaze lingers on the wedding picture of him and grandmother. The one sitting on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Grandmother died from a heart att
ack seven years ago.

  “I don’t know. Maybe one day. Who knows? I’m trying to get there first, but you will be the first person I call when I land.”

  He frowns and his lips turn up in anguish. “Lex is not going to let you leave, Corsetta. You’re in the mafia, the women are not allowed to live away from their husbands and what about rose bug? She needs her mama.”

  “He has to live with it, and I’ll take her with me.” I play along.

  “Be safe. And as long as Draco approves of it, then you should be fine.” His breathing is rigid. He still thinks Draco is still alive and still the Don.

  “You want to watch Golden Girls? For old time’s sake?”

  “Of course.”

  I pick up the black remote and change the channel.

  Roselyn

  THE FOLLOWING WEEK, I’VE BEEN on my best behavior. I did everything Devious said, being the well-behaved woman he wants me to be. It’s disgusting I have to bow to him or any man. He made me feel like I was a trophy wife when we had to meet with the other Dons for dinner every night. I had to wear elegant dresses which cost an arm and a leg. Apparently, since I’m marrying a Don, I have to become acquainted with the other Don’s wives. They were too shallow and materialistic for me.

  My gaze drifts to Devious as he rolls over on his back. His muscles are hard and cut but scarred with different permanent marks. Each scar is pale and pink. Some stretch across his back and some are small as a paper clip. Who put those scars on his back? I heard some men beat their boys to make them tough for the mafia. His tousled dark hair makes his olive skin seem brighter. He doesn’t look like the ruthless Don before me, but a normal man. He twists around and his eyes pop open, then he lifts up, yawns, glancing my way.

  “Get dressed,” he orders, tossing the soft blanket from his body. The way he says this makes me wish he was already dead. There is no way in hell I’m going to spend the rest of my life with his controlling, dominant ass. He’s fucking bossy and it pisses me off. “We have our engagement party.” He rolls out of bed, waltzes to the bathroom and the sound of the shower awakens my body. He’s naked, and my core starts tingling. I imagine the water gliding down his firm muscles. Is he touching himself? I shake my head. I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking him. He’s forcing me to marry him and he’s a monster. My brain and pussy are at war with each other. Shaking my head, I twirl my legs off the edge of the bed.

 

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