Damage: an Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance

by Natasha Knight

  “It would be easier if you were just one way,” I say. “I don’t have the strength to keep up with you.” My breath trembles when I draw it in.

  He wraps his arms around me and when he does, I can’t help but do what I wanted to do. I lean back into him. Because what I said, it’s worse than that.

  I have no more strength period. I’m done fighting.

  “I want to be the man you want, Gabriela. I want to be the man who carried you out of that well.”

  I turn in his arms, look up at him.

  He puts his hands on my face, and he’s so big, so much bigger than me. My protector and my predator in one. He pushes my hair back, smearing tears across my cheeks. He looks down at me and what I see in his eyes, it makes me ache.

  “Hope is a stupid thing,” I say.

  He’s caught off guard and it takes him a moment. “No, it’s not a stupid thing. It’s a good thing. And sometimes, the only thing. I don’t want you sad anymore, Gabriela. This isn’t your father’s house. This isn’t anything but what you let it be.”

  “You don’t know how much I want to believe you.”

  “Then believe me.”

  He kisses me then and it takes me a minute. It takes me that minute to register his lips on mine. His mouth on mine. His breath, his warm mouth, his strong arms. It’s not erotic or sexual. It’s different. Soft. A consummation of trust, so much more important than the consummation of our marriage.

  It takes me a full minute to accept that kiss because my mind wanders to where it had gone the other night. To that question. And I know the answer.

  He warned me not to fall in love with him but it’s too late. I think it was too late a long time ago.

  “Stefan,” I start, drawing back. I have to stop this. Because after everything this is the thing that will break me.

  He closes his mouth over mine again and doesn’t release me from his kiss as he walks me backward to my bed. When the backs of my knees hit it, I drop down to a seat and he crouches, kissing me with a hunger that matches my own. A need that matches my own.

  He’s not careful undressing me. Something tears as he strips my pants and panties off and he’s between my legs, one hand on the top of my head, the other undoing his jeans, his eyes fierce and dark and their expression the same as when he looked at me out there on that balcony.

  And when he pushes into me, I’m ready for him. I cling to him and hear his grunt, feel him, his big body on top of mine, his thick cock inside me, stretching me, hurting me, making me his as I cleave to him and wrap my legs around him and our kiss, it’s need. Pure need. A possession. Like we can’t get enough. Can’t get close enough.

  When I come, it’s different than any other time. With him. By myself. It’s different and whole and I don’t close my eyes or turn away. I watch him and let him watch me and something is different between us. Maybe it’s us who are different. I just know I can’t be without him.

  And I know if he betrays me again, it will destroy me.

  21

  Stefan

  Tucked beneath a blanket, Gabriela is asleep in the seat beside mine as we fly through the night sky to the states. She has her head turned toward me and her hands are tucked beneath her cheek.

  She looks so young when she sleeps. So innocent and vulnerable.

  The flight attendant comes with my drink and I turn to take it, thanking her with a nod. I sit in the dimly lit cabin and sip as I think.

  There’s more than one reason we’re going to New York. Yes, I want to get her brother for her. I don’t want anything from Gabe Marchese. Yes, he’s a pawn. And yes, I wanted guardianship out of selfish reasons. But if the end result makes her happy while meeting my goals, then so be it and I am happier for it.

  I meant what I said. I want to be the man who carried her out of the well.

  It’s just complicated.

  Those of us who crawl out of the darkness, we’re never fully able to stand in the light for long.

  The bird cage was made by a goldsmith in New York City. The cost wouldn’t be something my uncle could afford to pay himself. But I believe he had a patron.

  If I’m right, then it confirms that my uncle is my enemy.

  My mind drifts to my meeting with Danny Greco’s mother. To how she looked at Rafa. To how she remembered him.

  I glance over at my cousin.

  He must feel my eyes on him because he turns his head. There’s a moment of nothing. Then he nods before looking away.

  The driver takes us to the hotel when we arrive. Clear Meadows is an hour drive from here and Gabriela’s excitement is palpable. If it were up to her, we’d go straight there, but I want to go with her, and I first need to shower, change and meet with the goldsmith.

  I’m having Rafa take her to a shop to buy Gabe a half-birthday present and two soldiers have been instructed to follow Rafa and Gabriela. I won’t take any chances with her, but I wouldn’t leave him in Sicily either.

  If it were anyone else, I would already have taken care of it. I wouldn’t ask any more questions. But Rafa, he’s been a brother to me. We grew up together. He stood by my side during my family’s fall. And I don’t like questioning his loyalty.

  “I’m ready,” Gabriela says when I walk out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my hips, still dripping from my shower.

  She’s beaming.

  I haven’t seen her this happy in, well, I’ve never seen her this happy.

  I go to her, take her arms and tug her to me. “The shops haven’t even opened yet,” I tell her, looking her over. She’s wearing a light pink halter dress that comes to just above her knees and a pair of flat sandals. “You look good, Gabriela.”

  Her gaze slides down to my bare chest, to the tattoo over my heart. Her fingertips brush over the skin there.

  “Did it hurt?”

  I shrug.

  She slides her fingers lower to the thick scar tissue. “How about this one?”

  “That one did. But I needed it.”

  She looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

  “It taught me a valuable lesson.” I kiss her.

  “What lesson?”

  I smile, kiss her again, turn her around and lift her hair to untie the bow that’s keeping the dress up.

  “Stefan,” she starts, glancing over her shoulder at me. “We don’t have time.”

  “We have time,” I say, turning her to face me and kissing her. “And I want to take my time.”

  She’s not wearing a bra and I cup one breast while walking her backward to the bed. I don’t put her on it though. Instead, when her knees hit it, I put one hand to her shoulder and push her to kneel.

  She looks up at me with those pretty, huge eyes. Innocent eyes.

  I think how I’m going to dirty her.

  Leaning down, I kiss her mouth, dropping my towel as I do. I weave my fingers into her hair and tug her head backward.

  “I owe you a lesson,” I whisper. “I promised to teach you how to suck my cock.”

  I draw back, straighten and look down at her, at those greedy eyes she’s unable to keep from my dick, at her hungry little tongue that darts out to lick her lips.

  “Open, baby,” I say. “And kiss my cock.” She obeys, first licking precum off before kissing the head then taking me into her mouth.

  That’s not going to be enough for me today though.

  I grin, lean into her so the bed supports the back of her head. I guide myself deeper.

  “I’m going to need a little more, sweetheart,” I say, sliding in and out slowly, feeling the warm, soft, wet mouth, seeing the panic in her eyes as I tilt her head back to go deeper.

  Her hands come to my thighs and tears form at the corners of her eyes.

  I hold there. Watch her like this.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask, drawing back just a little, just enough for her to catch a breath before pushing in again, deeper this time, touching the back of her throat. “Do you?” I pull out, force her head back. “Do you
trust me, Gabriela?”

  She considers for a long minute and fuck my timing. I want to be back inside her. Back inside her warm, hot little mouth.

  Finally, she nods.

  I smile, slide my cock in again, pump in and out twice more before pulling out and leaning down to kiss her.

  “That’s good,” I whisper. “Because you’re going to need to trust me when I fuck your face.” I straighten, grip a handful of hair and tug her head backward as I set one foot on the edge of the bed and push into her.

  She says something, I think it’s my name, but it sounds gurgled.

  “Fuck, you are so pretty with my cock stuffed inside your mouth. Put your fingers on your pussy and rub your clit,” I tell her.

  I wait, watching as she does as she’s told and when I hear the wet sounds of her pussy, I fuck her face hard, giving her everything, watching her take it, take me. Watching her swallow down my seed as she comes on her sticky little fingers.

  22

  Gabriela

  I’m disappointed that it’s Rafa who takes me out to buy Gabe a gift while Stefan goes to an appointment. Rafa seems as pleased as I am to have to babysit me.

  “I can go on my own,” I say. I know the city. I know what I want to buy my brother and from where to buy it.

  “No, you can’t,” he says as the driver drops us off in front of the boutique toy store. “You’re Stefan’s wife now. You need protection.”

  “You seem about as happy to babysit me as I am to be babysat.”

  He rolls his eyes.

  “Rafa, did I do something to you that made you dislike me?”

  I’m not sure he’s surprised by the question.

  “He likes you, that’s all.”

  Is he jealous? He must see the confusion and surprise on my face because he shakes his head.

  “I mean it gives his enemies a target. A way to hurt him.”

  I study him and what I see in his eyes, it’s a war. Rafa is fighting some battle and I think Stefan and I and what we just discussed is a part of that battle.

  I reach out and touch his hand. “You’re a good friend to him.”

  He doesn’t reply, doesn’t even look at me.

  “I’ll be in in a minute,” he finally says. “Just going to have a smoke.”

  He’s dismissing me.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  He opens the door, steps out. “Fine.” He gestures to the door of the old shop and I go to it, push it open, hearing the bell over the door. The instant that door closes behind me, I’m transported to another world.

  This is where my mom bought our gifts when we were growing up and after her death, for reasons I don’t wholly understand, my father kept up the tradition. He probably had someone do the shopping for him, but still, he did it. And even though the gifts were bitter sweet after mom died, they were still special.

  “Gabriela Marchese?” comes a familiar voice. “Is that you?”

  I look up at the register set on a raised, dark wooden platform, and through the high-quality puppets and dolls and old-fashioned register, I see Mr. Poe.

  I smile, go to him.

  “Mr. Poe, you’re still working the register?” I ask as the tiny man walks around the counter, down the steps and toward me. He’s gotten older, the big bush of curly black hair now salt-and-pepper. And he’s slightly hunched, which makes him appear even shorter than his five feet.

  “Well, well,” he says, hands on his hips, looking me over from head to toe. “Gabriela, I don’t believe it. All grown up.” He leans in to hug me and I hug him back. “I knew you’d be a beauty, but my goodness!”

  When we separate, he holds onto my hands and spies the rings on my wedding finger.

  “Some lucky man already snatched you up? I’m not surprised,” he says. He touches the diamond. “He values you.”

  I’m not sure about that last part. Maybe?

  “You’re blushing, my dear. Tell me how you’ve been.”

  We spend the next fifteen minutes talking. Well, I do most of the talking while he listens. When he hands me a piece of candy from the old-fashioned jar he still keeps on the counter, it takes me back in time.

  “What can I do for you?” he asks as I look at that candy, unwilling to eat it, not sure I’ll be able to without breaking down. Being in here reminds me of my mom. Of when things were good.

  “I’m here for Gabe’s half-birthday gift,” I say.

  I see the flash of something like regret that crosses his features. “How is your brother? I remember how rambunctious he was when your mother would bring him in here to pick out a new toy.”

  “He’s doing all right. I’m going to move him to Sicily so we’ll be closer together.”

  “Are you all the way in Sicily now? Such a long way from your father.”

  I just smile.

  “Well, come on now. I seem to recall a particular toy train your brother loved and there’s a new model. You think he’ll like it?” he asks, taking me to the section of trains.

  I pick up the box he points to. “I think he’ll love it. And maybe something for painting? It’s his new hobby, it seems.”

  “Well, painting is good for the soul. I have just the thing.”

  Stefan gave me his credit card to pay for the things and it’s weird doing so. Weird to use his money. Will I always be dependent on him?

  Mr. Poe wraps the packages carefully, choosing special paper and huge bows for the boxes. As I gather the packages in my arms, I think how happy Gabe will be. How surprised. I never told him I was coming. And I can’t wait to get there.

  “One more thing,” Mr. Poe says as I’m readying to say goodbye. He goes behind the counter and rummages through a cabinet beneath the register. I hear him mutter and a moment later, his head pops up. “Here we are.”

  He walks back around the counter toward me and holds out his hand. I look down at the small ring on his finger.

  “What’s this?” I ask, touching the dragon shape.

  “A mood ring. I remember you loved these when you were little.”

  I take it from him, smiling. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages.”

  “You used to tell me you’d know when someone was lying when you wore one.”

  I slide it on my little finger, touch the smooth green stone. I know this isn’t an ordinary mood ring. The design is too intricate for that.

  “Thank you, Mr. Poe. I love it.”

  “You’re welcome, Gabriela.” He hugs me back. He’s barely released me when Rafa surprises us both by walking out of a door that leads to the stock room. The look on his face tells me something is wrong.

  “Rafa? What is it?”

  Mr. Poe stares at him open-mouthed.

  “We have to go,” he says and when he moves, I see the glint of shiny metal in a shoulder holster and the smudge of red on his knuckle.

  “What’s happened?” I ask as he takes my arm.

  “There were men following. And we’re outnumbered. We need to go. Now.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  I almost drop the boxes as he pulls me along out through the stock room and into an alley where our SUV awaits minus the driver. He opens the passenger door, his expression as he turns his gaze to the mouth of the alley making me panic.

  “What’s happening?” I ask.

  Once I’m in, he slams the door shut and runs to the driver’s side, gets in, and a moment later, we’re peeling out of the alley, cars honking their horns wildly as we merge with traffic. I let out a scream, catching myself on the dashboard and the door, all of this reminiscent of the last time I was in a car with Rafa.

  “Put your seatbelt on,” he snaps, eyes on the rear-view mirror as he takes an illegal left.

  I look back, but I can’t tell who’s who. All I see is a road full of cars, trucks and taxis.

  “Who is it?” I ask, putting on my belt.

  “I don’t know,” he says, just glancing at me as the car hits a pothole. “I
think I lost them.”

  “Did you call Stefan?”

  He glances at me, nods. “It’s okay, Gabriela. We lost them. You can relax now.”

  I lean my head against the headrest. “Is it always going to be like this?”

  “He has many enemies.”

  I process that as we leave the city.

  “Where are we going now?” I ask. I know this area pretty well. I didn’t realize he did.

  “I’ll take you to your brother.”

  “That’s the other way. We have to go north on—”

  “I know where we have to go. I don’t want to take a chance anyone is following us.”

  Stefan’s words echo along with the warning bells that ring wildly in my head.

  There’s nothing nice about Rafa.

  I dig into my bag, pull out my cell phone.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I want to call Stefan.”

  “It’s not necessary. He’s in a meeting.”

  I scroll through the few numbers to find Stefan’s. I’m about to hit the call button when Rafa’s hand closes over mine, the pressure just a little harder than it needs to be.

  “I told you that’s not necessary,” he says.

  “You’re hurting me.”

  He loosens his hold, shifts his gaze back to the dense traffic as he slides the phone out of my hands and puts it in the center console.

  “Where are you taking me, Rafa?” I ask when we take a turn in the direction of the Verrazano Bridge.

  “I told you. I’ll take you to see your brother. After.”

  “After what?”

  We get to a traffic light and when it turns yellow, the car in front of us stops.

  Rafa mutters a curse and as soon as we’re slow enough, I reach to undo my seatbelt and open the door at once, but he’s too fast and when his hand closes over my arm, his grip is bruising, punishing.