Royal Mafia Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bella J.

  Red. That was all I saw.

  Hate. That was all I felt.

  Every inch of my spine went as cold as ice, my body heavy and my mind a war zone. Within a split second, I was transported back to that night when a ten-year-old girl hid beneath her bed. Scared. Afraid. So fucking afraid.

  The sound of her mother’s pleas burned through her ears while her heart wanted to break out of her chest. Every breath ached. Every second felt like a lifetime, and all she could do was pray for the bad men to leave. But they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t leave.

  “How…” I cleared my throat. “How do you know he was the one?”

  Antonio stepped in between me and the cage, forcing me to look at him. “I knew it before he admitted it.”

  “How did you—”

  “A man like me has a lot of resources, Doe.”

  Silence ensued while Antonio and I kept our gazes locked. One thing I could say with all honesty was that I trusted him. I trusted the man before me. I trusted him with my life. There was no rhyme or reason to it, only the complete certainty of the faith I had in the man who tore me from the clutches of hell.

  Antonio stepped closer, his voice low. “The last thing he said before I cut out his tongue was ‘I sliced that cunt’s throat.’ I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to kill him so badly, the only thing I could do to stop myself was to fucking mutilate him in the most painful fucking way.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why? Why didn’t you kill him?”

  Dark eyes searched mine, the air around us laden with tension. “Because the kill isn’t mine to make.”

  My heart stopped. Our gazes locked. Reality ceased to exist. It was just me. It was just him. And then there was the heaviest, yet the most bittersweet moment of clarity. This was why Antonio brought me here. This was what he meant the other night when he said I was ready for revenge.

  This was my revenge.

  Renato Da Silva was mine to kill.

  I reached up to my necklace, feeling the metal against my fingertips. The blade was there, a mere click away.

  Antonio’s gaze dropped to my hand, and I was sure I saw the corners of his mouth twitch. “I kept him for you, Doe. I kept him here for weeks. I wanted to make sure you were ready. I wanted you to realize for yourself how much strength was coursing through your veins.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “And the other night, at Vertigo. The way you protected my sister, killing that man with not a single ounce of remorse, I knew you were ready.”

  My fingers kept stroking across my necklace, my mind hazy yet clear. It was difficult to explain, the way I felt. My heart was beating at a nervous pace, yet the thought of killing this man—the man who killed my mother—made my spine tingle. I felt it in every fiber of my being, just how fucking right it was for me to do this. For me to finally take what was mine.

  Revenge.

  Antonio leaned forward, his warm lips brushing against my cheek. “Take yourself there, Doe. Take yourself back to that night. Be that little girl who hid beneath the bed. See it. Feel it. Embrace it.” His grip on my shoulders tightened, and I closed my eyes. “Take your blade, get out from underneath that bed, and go spill the blood needed to avenge your mother’s death.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek. I was there. I was that little girl once more. I allowed the memory to suck me in, to swallow me. To let me feel everything I felt that night.

  Fear.

  Panic.

  Dread.

  Pain.

  But I grabbed hold of the anger, and I held on to it. Like fuel to a fire, I allowed the anger to burn like the flames of hell inside me. I smelled the blood. I fucking saw the thick, red liquid reach for me. And I remembered what it felt like to watch the life drain from my mother’s eyes.

  With a click, I held the blade in my hand, opened my eyes, and glared over Antonio’s shoulder to where the mute bastard sat, waiting, anticipating, wondering what I was about to do.

  It felt good having that power. Having the power to provoke fear, to stir panic.

  I gave a step forward, and Antonio called out, “Lucio, open the gate. Bring the fucker out.”

  The creak of steel hinges echoed through the otherwise empty warehouse. The gate opened, and the closer I walked to the man I now knew tore my mother’s life from her body, the wider his eyes grew. Lucio pulled him and the chair he sat on out of the cage.

  Panic-stricken and scared, Renato shook his head, his eyes almost bulging from his skull. They were wild, filled with fear. But he couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t beg. He couldn’t plead. A part of me wished he could. I wanted him to hear him beg me to spare his life, the way my mother begged him.

  While I slowly walked toward him, I flicked the pad of my thumb across the blade. It stung. It burned. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was giving this man what he so much deserved.

  The closer I came to him, the more he struggled against his bounds. The ropes around his arms and legs were cutting into his flesh, smears of blood coating his raw skin.

  It happened so fast, the swing of my arm and the flick of my wrist. And then blood oozing from a gaping cut in his cheek.

  The sounds that came out of his mouth were both horrifying and satisfying. Without a tongue, he couldn’t scream. It was only grunting sounds of pain that came from the back of his throat, tears streaming down his face.

  “Did you look her in the eye?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “Did you look my mother in the eye when you sliced her throat?”

  The only answer I got was the look of fear in his green eyes. My mind was still stuck in the past, still reliving that night. And while I remembered the blood, and the fear, and the utter horror of that ten-year-old girl, I circled Renato, watching while tears streamed down his face. His cheeks were sunken, his naked shoulders bony. It was obvious that he had been starved while Antonio and Lucio kept him here.

  Good.

  As I passed behind him, I dragged the blade from his right shoulder blade all the way to the left. Blood oozed out of his skin, escaping like teardrops down his back. It was poetic, actually, his body sobbing with tears of blood.

  I had forgotten about Antonio and Lucio being there. In my mind, it was just me and the devil who took my mother away from me.

  I stilled in front of him and watched as the blood from his cheek dripped onto his naked chest. It was fucking liberating.

  “Look at me,” I ordered, but he kept shaking his head. The hate inside me took over, and I launched forward, reaching out, grabbing his hair and yanking his head back, forcing him to look at me.

  With the tip of my blade pressed beneath his ear, I leaned closer, wanting to smell the scent of his blood. “I want you to look me in the eye while I dig my blade into your skin, slicing your throat from ear to fucking ear.”

  Slowly, and with fucking precision, I started to carve the sharp edge of my blade through his flesh. I was moving so slowly, I could practically feel the way his skin tore apart, all the while I held his panicked gaze.

  Inch by inch. Little by little, I took from him what he had taken from both me and my mother.

  Life.

  He gurgled, his breath heavy as he tried to force out his voice. I leaned forward, trying to hear what he was saying. But without a tongue, and my hand continuing to tear through his flesh, I could hardly hear a thing…until I did. I heard it. I heard the word he tried to spit out. It was unclear, almost inaudible. If I hadn’t heard the word before, I never would have been able to make it out.

  Mancuso.

  Chapter 15

  Antonio

  There she was. My fucking queen. God, she was beautiful. The strength, the power that radiated from her while she sliced the fucker from ear to ear was exquisite. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The way her face went from soft innocence to cold, hard stone was the best sight in the world. Her eyes seemed more alive than ever before while Renato’s blood oozed from his neck, the red dripping down his chest. I knew this moment would be perfectly toxic,
the moment when I finally witnessed my filthy, broken girl become a strong, resplendent queen. My cock was so fucking hard it throbbed.

  I nodded toward Lucio, dismissing him. He retreated, taking every man in the warehouse with him. But I knew they wouldn’t go far. Lucio still had the place surrounded with enough ammo to start World War Three.

  Doe straightened, still clutching the bloody blade in her hands. The second she turned, our gazed locked, and I lost it. I lost all control. The lust, the need, the ultimate desire to take what was mine was too fucking strong. And now that my queen had finally risen from the ashes, embraced what I knew was in her blood—strength—I was more in love with her than ever before.

  I launched forward, crashing my lips against hers. I didn’t care that she had another man’s blood on her hands. I didn’t care that her clothes were stained with crimson. All I cared about was worshipping her.

  While my tongue swept through her mouth, eager to consume her, I placed my hands on her ass, lifting her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around me. The way she met my hard kiss with the same vigor, the same desperation, I knew she was just as fucking turned on as I was.

  What a fucked-up pair we were.

  I slammed her back against the steel cage, the sound of metal chains echoing through the empty building.

  “Sei la mia regina ora.” You are my queen now.

  “E tu sei il mio re.” And you are my king.

  I stilled, staring down at her. “You speak Italian?”

  Her smile was sexy and wicked at the same damn time. I didn’t wait for her answer, slamming my lips against hers once more. One hand fumbled with her dress, pulling it up over her hips while my fingers tore at her panties. Her hands gripped my hair, pulling me close against her. We were like to starved animals finally able to feast…on each other.

  The second I slipped my finger through her slit, I moaned. “Jesus, Doe. You’re dripping.” I pushed a digit inside her, and another groan sounded from the back of my throat as I felt her wet walls close around my finger.

  With my other hand, I unzipped my pants and pulled out my aching cock. It was fucking torture, being this turned on—this desperate to fuck. But there was one thing I needed to do first.

  “Lascia che ti adori.” Let me worship you.

  I fell to my knees and spread her pussy wide before dragging my tongue in circles around her outer lips. The moans that came from her mouth were like porn to my fucking ears.

  I looked up while sucking on her clit. Her head was leaning against the cage, her mouth forming the perfect O. She was reached back, clutching the steel bars of the cage above her head, the bloodstains still on her hands.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  I sucked harder, my tongue moving faster all the way from her clit down to her opening and back up. The taste of her was like an aphrodisiac sent from the heavens. As if God himself had made her body and everything inside it just for me.

  Just. For. Me.

  “Antonio.” My name had never sounded so sweet coming from her mouth. Her hips started to move, forcing my mouth harder against her greedy cunt. “I’m going to come.”

  “You better fucking do it on my tongue, Doe.”

  With my thumbs, I spread her pussy wide fucking open, the tip of my tongue teasing her clit. More moans, more rocking of hips. When her body started to shudder, I knew she was at the edge. As I pushed two fingers inside her, my tongue still playing her pussy like a fucking violin, she came. My queen came on my fucking tongue, and it was the most intense, most beautiful thing I’d ever experienced.

  I straightened and looked deep into her stunning dark eyes. “I love you, Doe.”

  “I love you too,” she whispered.

  And then I fucked my woman against the steel bars like there was no tomorrow.

  ***

  In the car on our way home, I could practically hear the wheels turning inside her head. With a quick glimpse at her hands, I noticed how she played with her cuticles, still partly stained with dry blood.

  “You okay?”

  “Who is Mancuso?”

  My heart stopped. My fucking heart just stopped beating. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “Lorik mentioned it the other night at Vertigo when you all came rushing into the bathroom. I asked him about it after we got home, but he told me to ask you.”

  I looked straight ahead of me, my eyes on the road, yet my focus was far from it. “Stefano Mancuso is head of a rival family.” My answer was short and clipped, hoping she would figure out the topic wasn’t up for discussion.

  “He said his name too.”

  I gave a sideways glance. “Who did?”

  “Renato. Right before he bled to death. He whispered the name Mancuso.”

  “Doe, the man’s tongue was cut out and his throat was slit. I doubt he was able to say anything.” There was a fucking reason I cut out his goddamn tongue. It wasn’t because I was angry. It wasn’t because I lost my shit and thought the best way to keep me from killing him was to cut out his tongue. No. He lost his tongue because I couldn’t chance him saying anything to Doe. Anything that would make her fit the pieces together and figure out who her real father was.

  Doe turned in her seat to face me. “He said the name Mancuso. I heard it.”

  “Well, you heard wrong.”

  “I didn’t.”

  I shot her a warning glare, not liking the way she challenged me. But what the fuck did I expect? It was because of me the woman finally got a backbone.

  My silence was all I could give her. I was so taken aback by this, I didn’t know what the fuck to say.

  “Why would Renato mention the name of your enemy while staring me in the eye?”

  Frustrated and nervous, I rubbed my chin, one hand gripping the steering wheel. “I don’t know.”

  Silence. But I still felt her gaze on me. It was burning a hole through my skull. The expectation was for her to push the matter, to try to get the answers she wanted, but instead, she stared at me for a few moments longer before righting in her seat.

  I had to give her something. I had to try to satisfy her need for answers, otherwise, she would dig for them in places she shouldn’t.

  “Stefano Mancuso has been the enemy of our family for years. This city belonged to the Valentis for fuck knows how long, and when the Mancusos moved in on our turf, they stirred some serious shit.” I took a breath, thinking about what I wanted to say next. “Our family, we’re not saints, Doe. We do our fair share of fucked up shit. But one thing about us Valentis, we don’t tolerate drugs. In fact, my father, my grandfather, they dedicated their lives to keeping the streets of Boston clean. When the Mancusos moved in, they started soiling our streets with their cheap cocaine, ruining lives, and it has been war between our families ever since.”

  I wiped down my face with the back of my hand. Just talking about the fuckers had me on edge. Even though all of them were dead, their corpses nothing more than fish bait, it still irked me just thinking about them, about how much pain and suffering they had caused our family…and Doe.

  “Where are they now?” she asked softly.

  I shrugged. “They sure as fuck aren’t in this town anymore.” That was for fucking sure.

  “Then why did Lorik think the guy who attacked me and Karina was working for Mancuso?”

  “Jesus Christ, Doe. Is this twenty fucking questions?” I snapped. I fucking snapped. The heat was too much, and this conversation was treading on dangerous ground.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked down at her lap, her fingers still toying with her cuticles. “I just don’t know why Renato would mention Mancuso to me.”

  “The fucker was high on pain, Doe. Don’t read too much into it.”

  Another moment of silence. Awkward silence. What was the use of cutting a bastard’s tongue out when he was able to mumble shit? For fuck’s sake.

  The silence between us stretched until we reached the house. I hated the silence but appreciated it as well. It was
fucking with my head, this giant secret I was keeping from her.

  I got out of the car, and Lorik came rushing toward me. “Jesus, bro, where have you been?”

  “Out.” I slammed the car door. “Why?”

  “I was trying to get hold of you for the last ten fucking minutes.”

  I pulled out my phone and saw what the problem was. “Fucking battery died. What’s going on?”

  Lorik’s normal cocky looking grin was absent, replaced by a look I didn’t like. “Bro, you need to come see this.” He glanced over my shoulder at Doe, who had gotten out of the car, then back at me. “Alone.”

  Immediately, my insides buzzed with alarm, warning bells slamming against my skull. “Doe,” I called over my shoulder, “go wait for me in the bedroom.”

  She stepped in next to me. “Is everything okay?”

  “I said go wait for me in the bedroom.” With a flick of my finger, I ordered one of the guards to escort her. It was another guy I didn’t know. I was getting really fucking tired of all the unfamiliar faces around here.

  With wary eyes, Doe looked back at me as she reached the door. There was a fire in her eyes which hadn’t been there before tonight. I loved it. But I also needed to be careful with it. Her newfound courage could either be a godsend, or a ticking time bomb.

  As soon she left, I glared at Lorik. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “We found a body.”

  “A body? Where?”

  “Just outside the gate of the estate.”

  “What?” My voice slammed like a boulder against the walls. “What the fuck? Who is it?”

  “Dunno. But there’s something else.”

  “Goddammit, Lorik. Would you start talking?”

  “Come on. You have to see this.” Lorik rushed out of the garage, straight to the security room. The same room we took Doe to when she first came here. When I saw Dante standing outside the door, the worried look on his face, I knew shit was about to get real.