Twisted Tales of Mayhem: 2019 MMM Special Edition Anthology

by Sapphire Knight

  Pulling into our big drive, we see cars lined up everywhere. Looking at Giovanni, he shrugs and shakes his head. He has no idea what’s going on either. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse.

  When the car stops, I move to get out, but Luca stops me. “Allow me to go first, Principessa.”

  He stands up and looks around before reaching in for my hand. I hear Giovanni tell the others to stay in the car with Marco, that he’ll message them when we’re ready for him.

  We make our way inside, but I don’t see anyone. They have to be here somewhere. And since I can’t hear anyone, I know padre isn’t having a dinner party. No, he’s having a meeting, and guessing by all the cars, it’s a big meeting. One where he calls in other familias. This is huge. Things like this only happen if something bad happens, or if there’s a huge celebration.

  I look to Giovanni. He nods down the hall toward mio padre's office. I know there’s a secret room connected to his office where he holds important meetings. That has to be where they’re all at.

  I make my way swiftly down the hall, eager, and a little nervous. I have no idea what they could be discussing in there, but I don’t like it one bit. If I had to guess, though, I’d say they’re talking about the murders and what the next step is. And if that’s the case, it’s a good thing we came back today. The last thing this familia needs is to go after the Russians under false pretenses. That’s a war we aren’t ready for, one we don’t want nor need.

  In mio padre's office, I see the door leading into the room I’ve never been inside of. The door is always closed, whether someone is in there or not. It’s a huge secret to me on what lies behind it, and the people behind there as well. I’ve met a few of the other familias, but mostly the women and children, not the men. These will be the people I’ll need to convince that I’m the right choice to take over the empire. I just hope I can do it.

  Shaking off the jitters and thoughts of anything more than avenging mia madre and fratello, I take a deep breath in front of the door before I reach out and touch the handle. Here goes nothing.

  Opening the door, the whole room goes quiet for a moment, and then gets very loud.

  “Che cazzo sta facendo qui?” someone yells, outraged by my interruption.

  “Gemma, what are you doing back?” mio padre asks, looking around the table of men with looks of disgust and anger, before turning back to me. Pointing behind me, he adds, “Devi andartene. I’ll deal with you later.”

  I take another step inside. “Padre, I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  “It’ll have to wait,” he answers, just as I see mio zio stand and glare at me with rage.

  “You don’t belong in here. Esci!”

  Giovanni and Luca come in now, one standing to my left and the other to my right. They have their arms crossed, and menacing looks on their faces.

  “She has every right to be here,” Luca growls out.

  “Sir, you need to hear what she has to say,” Giovanni states to mio padre, then looks to the rest of the room. “In fact, all of you should hear this.”

  Not waiting for acceptance or for someone to argue more, I go right into what I came in here to do.

  Taking another step into the room, I first look at all the men before finally landing on mio padre. “I have a feeling I know what you’re all in here to discuss, and I can’t let you attack the Russians, Padre.”

  He seems surprised at first, and then looks behind me at Giovanni. To his credit, he doesn’t cower or back down from mio padre's glare. He’s stating with his eyes that he doesn’t regret filling me in on what they’re doing.

  “You have no authority here, little girl. You are not a part of this, and would do best to remember where your place is. It’s in the kitchen, or underneath a man,” Stefano says with a sneer.

  Moving fast, I don’t even see Luca as he charges Stefano, his fist swinging, connecting hard with his face. Mio zio falls to the ground with a loud thump, blood pouring out of his nose. “That’s no way to speak to a lady, especially one who will one day rule this empire,” Luca spits out, standing over my uncle.

  “Everyone stop right fucking now!” mio padre yells, his hard and icy eyes landing on mio zio and Luca, before turning back to me. I wish I could say that his anger melts when he turns to me, but it doesn’t. His eyes are cold and deadly. This isn't mio padre before me, it's the mafia boss. “I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever it is you came in here to say, spit it out. I don’t have time to deal with all of this right now. The people responsible for taking mia moglie and figlio away are still breathing, something I intend to rectify soon.”

  “That’s just it, Padre. I know who killed Madre and Gino, and it wasn’t the Russians,” I tell him, my eyes moving to Stefano. Uncertainty takes over his face before he covers it up.

  “What do you mean? How do you know this?” Padre seems exasperated now, tired, but the anger is still there, hiding behind it all, ready to come out with force when a target is presented.

  “It wasn’t the Russians. It was an inside job.” Turning, I nod to Giovanni, who pulls out his phone. Luca comes over and stands beside me, but a little in front of me, ready to protect me if needed.

  Now mio padre is quiet and seems uncertain. He looks to Giovanni, seeking confirmation, or something else maybe? Whatever it is, he must get it, because he looks back to me, telling me silently to continue.

  “There were four guards on duty the day Madre and Gino were murdered, but only three bodies were found.” Mio padre looks doubtful now, shaking his head.

  “No, that’s not right,” he tells me.

  “Mi dispiace, Padre, but it's the truth. He was a part of the plan, a way inside without raising alarms.”

  I look to Stefano, but he’s staring at the floor. He’s nervous, but when he realizes I’m watching him, he looks up at me with a cocky stare. He doesn’t think I know where the guard is, let alone that he’s here right now, on his way to this very room to confirm what I say is true and to point the finger at him.

  “How do you know this to be true?” one of the men sitting at the table asks. Mio padre doesn’t even look his way, he just continues to stare at me, waiting for the proof.

  “I had Giovanni look into it more. There are cameras around the outside grounds that no one except a few select guards know about. The fourth guard was seen that day working an hour before the murders, but he was missing when the other’s bodies were found. That got me thinking; if he was innocent in all of this, where was he? And why weren’t we able to reach him now?”

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” another man says. This time, I look away from mio padre and directly at him. At all of them.

  “No, it didn’t. But when we couldn’t find him, we dug deeper, looked into his familia. And that’s when we found a cugino of his. Turns out this cousin had received a very large amount of money from an offshore account. He also purchased a plane ticket leaving from Chicago the day of the murders, landing in New York. This cousin of Marco’s—that’s the guard that went missing—had a house out in the woods. Seemed like a pretty good place for someone to hide out if they thought someone would be looking for them.”

  I can tell that some of the men are hanging onto every word I’m saying. Some are a little hesitant, unsure if what I say is the truth, or if what I found will lead to anything concrete. And then there are a few that just flat-out don’t believe a single word I’m saying. But they will, and soon.

  “This is cazzate. She has no idea what’s going on. You can’t be entertaining this folle idea, can you, fratello? It was the Russians! We have proof!” Stefano yells, standing up now.

  “You mean like this?” Gabriel asks, walking into the room, dragging in Marco behind him.

  “Or this?” Antonio holds the folder with the paper trail and the tape of Marco’s confession. I didn’t know he was back already, but I’m glad he made it in time for this.

  Now Stefano looks afraid. His eyes dart aro
und the room, probably trying to find the best way to exit.

  Mio padre steps toward Marco, his hands balled into fists. “Is all of this true?” he asks him.

  “Si, sir,” Marco replies.

  “This is blasphemy. I’m not going to listen to another word about it,” Stefano shouts, but the man closest to him grabs his shoulder, stopping him.

  Padre doesn’t even notice, though. He continues to stare at Marco. “Did you kill mia moglie? Mio figlio?”

  This time, I answer for him. “No, Padre. He was just a pawn in all this, doing what he was told.”

  Looking to me, mio padre asks, “Who was responsible, Gemma?”

  Finally.

  Finally, I get to say who killed mia madre and mio twin fratello. The time has come for them to pay for what they did.

  Before I can name him, Stefano draws his gun. It all happens so fast, but I’m ready. I’m faster, and a much better shot. That’s what happens when you spend hours upon hours a week training for this. Unlike mio zio, who would rather sit back and let others do his dirty work.

  I grab my gun from behind my back, aim, and fire off a round before Stefano fully has me in his sights. His body drops to the floor, but he’s not dead. No. I just wounded him enough that he wouldn’t be a threat.

  The room erupts into chaos, everyone taking some sort of action. Padre turns around and watches as Stefano holds his right shoulder where I shot him. Blood pools out, but he’ll remain alive for now.

  Guards come running in, some I don’t recognize. They’re most likely from the other familias. Luca makes his way over to Stefano, picks up his gun and stands above him, ready to act if necessary.

  Giovanni remains beside me, and my other guards stay by Marco.

  Mio padre turns back to me. “It was Stefano?” I can hear the pain in his voice. He never would have thought that his own fratello would murder his wife and son. That he was so power hungry to betray him in such a way.

  “Si, Padre. He wanted power, and to do that—” I start to say, but mio padre finishes for me.

  “Gino had to die.”

  I nod, the bone deep sadness taking over my body once more. Gino was mio fratello, my twin and other half. How am I supposed to go on without him beside me?

  He turns his back on everyone, needing this moment to himself to let everything that’s happened fully sink in. And we all give it to him.

  After a few moments pass of total silence, he turns back around, facing me with a look of pride. Even though it’s laced in sadness, I’m happy to see it there, directed at me. “You did well, mio figlia. No one would have thought to do what you have done. And because of you, the real person responsible will pay, and it won’t cause a mass war, which would have meant countless deaths.”

  Looking at the others in the room, he adds, “As you all know, I do not have another bambino to take over for me. And even though it has never been done, mia figlia will be next in line to take over. She is a DelBene, the heir to my throne. It is her birthright. Anyone who disagrees, speak your peace now.”

  I watch as one by one, every single head of the familias nod and bow toward me, giving me their respect and loyalty.

  “Then she will begin training under me, preparing to take power. And on her twenty-first compleanno, she will be crowned the Regina of the Mafia,” Padre states proudly. “And to seal the deal, she will take the lives of those that wronged us. As much as I want to be the one, that right, along with the empire, is hers.”

  Everyone stands and watches as I turn toward Marco. Raising my gun, I fire one round into his head. He drops dead, soaking the floor with his life. I promised it’d be quick, and I fulfilled that promise.

  Next, I turn and make my way over to where Stefano still lies on the floor. When I’m next to him, I look him in the eyes. “This is for mia madre and fratella. May they rest in peace.” I pause for a moment as to not taint that wish with what will come next. “Stefano, I hereby strip you of your name. You are no longer a part of this familia. You are not worthy of the name DelBene.”

  Putting my gun back in my holster, I remove the knife I placed beside my gun, never taking my eyes off of his. He looks scared, afraid to die. He even begs mio padrefor mercy. “Fratella, per favore.”

  “Go to hell,” I say before stepping around him. Pulling his head back by his hair, I run my blade across his neck. When he’s finished struggling, I push his body away from me, letting him fall lifeless to the floor.

  I take a breath. It’s done. I did it. I kept my word to Gino. I found out who killed him and Madre, and made them pay. It’s done. They have been avenged.

  I just wish it brought me some peace of mind, but it doesn’t. I feel empty inside. Everything is black and cold, as if my soul has left me. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t need a soul where I’m going. I’ll carry my demons with me on this new journey. They’ll keep me company as I watch the whole world burn before me.

  If I’m living in hell, everyone else will too. After all, this is the life in the mafia, and I’m the queen of my personal hell.

  About Shelly

  Thank you everyone for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it! I look forward to writing the next book in the DelBene Crime Family series and giving you more of Gemma.

  Be sure to check out my Facebook page for updates about new releases!

  Http://www.facebook.com/AuthorShellyMorgan

  DEMETRI

  The Volkov Empire

  ___________________

  SANDY ALVAREZ

  CRYSTAL DANIELS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Demetri

  The dull throb radiating from my temples is starting to become a full-fledged migraine. Pushing the laptop to the side, I reach for my glass of whiskey only to find it empty.

  "Would you like another, Mr. Volkov?" Victor goes to stand from his seat on the opposite side of the plane.

  Raising my hand, I stop him. "No, my friend, I'll be in my room. I don't want to be disturbed until it's time to land."

  "Yes, sir."

  Walking towards the back end of the plane, I slide the door open. Motion sensors activate a dim light above the head of the queen-size bed in front of me basking the space in a warm glow. We have a few more hours ahead of us before landing, so I'm taking advantage of the only alone time I may have before reaching my homeland. Shrugging off my suit jacket, I lay it across the back of the soft black, leather chair before loosening the tie around my neck, undoing it entirely and place it on the table by the small window along with my cufflinks, then roll up my sleeves. Emptying my pockets, I toss my phone, wallet, and money clip alongside the rest of my things and toe off my shoes before stretching out on my bed.

  I want nothing more than to be back in Polson, in the comforts of my home but the call I received at 2:00 am this morning warranted a quick decision to make my presence known elsewhere. Rubbing my temples with my fingers, I try to release the tension and replay the call from one of my associates. Apparently, the Petrov family is trying to overstep their bounds and have been encroaching on turf that they have no business being in. My territory to be precise. The Volkov's have been in control for over one hundred years, going all the way back to my great-grandfather who built our empire with respect, integrity, and a firm hand. One I once hoped to pass down to my youngest son. Logan wasn't brought up in mafia life, and even though he has all the abilities to quickly adapt to my specific lifestyle due to being raised in the MC, I know it's not for him. He is right where he belongs amongst his brothers and his family. Nikolai, however, has been raised and groomed since the day he was born to one day take over the family businesses. And up until the past few years, I thought that would never be an issue.

  The Petrov family and ours have had a mutual long-standing, blood binding agreement that we each keep out of one another's way, and that includes staying out of the pockets of the people I deal with. Vadim, the son of Yerik, has partially taken over as head of their small empire since his father has fallen too ill to
run things on his own merit and isn't expected to make it another couple of months. Needless to say, Vadim is a hot-headed, power-hungry young man. It seems to me someone might need a little reminder of who he is dealing with.

  Closing my eyes, I let my thoughts drift elsewhere. To one particular person. A woman to be exact. Glory Keller—a friend of Logan's MC club, Kings of Retribution.

  She is breathtaking, with dark auburn hair, icy green eyes, a body made for pleasure, and a mouth so full of sass I want to fill it full of my cock. There has been something about Glory ever since my eyes first fell upon her. She took a beating by some men, but her fire and her tenacious attitude kept her going. The fact that she had been through hell and pushed through it like it was nothing fascinated me. Glory unintentionally lit a spark I thought had been extinguished forever. Feelings I never thought I could feel for another woman started to flare up like wildfire and only grew stronger each time I got the chance to be near her. Obsession is not my thing. It's not who I am, but this woman has consumed me. I think about her night and day.

  I keep tabs on her to satisfy my own irrational need to keep her safe. From the moment her eyes connected with mine, Glory had rewritten my future. I know it, and furthermore, she knows it. There is no denying the raw sexual pull we feel for one another. Oh, she fights it. Glory hides it with fire and venom, but she wants me just as much as I want her. Make no mistake; I will have her. She will be in my bed. I want nothing more than to leave my mark on her. My cock twitches with the mere thought of reddening her luscious round ass. With those thoughts, I finally fall asleep.

  I wake when I hear Victor call out my name. Cracking my eyes open, I notice him standing at the bedroom door. "Sir, we land in twenty minutes."

  "Thank you, Victor." Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and run my hand through my hair. Standing, I gather my things and put myself back together before stepping into the main cabin and taking my seat.