Coveted: Men of Mayhem: Book Two

by Luciani, Kristen

  I trace my finger over the pattern in the granite. “Thanks, Mama.” But there’s a heavy weight in my chest, a feeling that something isn’t quite right, and it all stems from that disturbing run-in at the venue and the man I thought I’d shoved to the back of my mind.

  Hearing her ask about people waiting after the concert made those skin-crawling moments bubble up from the depths. A shudder runs through me, and I visibly shake.

  Mama furrows her brow and places a warm hand on my arm. “Julia, is something wrong?”

  I drum my fingers on the side of the glass, a sigh expelling from my lips. “The concert was great, but I was approached by a man afterward. I mean, it’s probably nothing, just some weird lonely guy, but…” My voice trails off and I bite down hard on my lower lip, debating how much to say. Marisa is an alarmist, but Mama? She’s on a completely different level, and for good reason. Being married to my father puts all of us in the line of fire, and until now, I’ve been uncompromised.

  Something tells me there’s reason to believe it wasn’t just a freak occurrence.

  Deep down, I never believed it was.

  A flicker of alarm appears in the depths of my mother’s eyes and she grips my wrist. “Tell me,” she says. “What about this man?”

  “I left my dressing room once everything was packed up, and there was a man outside the door waiting for me.” I nibble at my thumbnail, a tremor rippling through me as I recall the way his dark eyes pierced my insides in the creepy stalker kind of way. “I usually have security right outside, and when I called Pietro right after the show was over, he said he’d make sure the guys were there and ready to escort me out.”

  “But they weren’t?”

  I shake my head. “And then this guy started saying things like I’m beautiful and that he enjoyed watching me…” My shoulders quake with a sudden shiver. “Ew! Even thinking about it makes me want to hurl!”

  “Julia,” Mama says. “What happened to Pietro?”

  “I don’t know. I texted him a couple of times once I got out of there because I was so pissed off that he left me on my own to deal with that lunatic, but he never responded.” I wrap a strand of hair around my finger and tug it hard. “I hated feeling so helpless, Mama. I know I should have done something to try to get away, but I was so scared. It’s not like I’ve ever had to deal with threats like that, so my body just froze.”

  “You would have acted if you needed to,” Mama says, rubbing my back.

  “I don’t know about that. I felt like a deer in headlights.” My jaw twitches. “I never want to feel that way again.”

  “Did you get a name? Was there anything you noticed about this man that stood out?”

  “No name, but he had this tat—"

  And just before the words have a chance to leave my mouth, my father storms out of his office with my Uncle Enzo on his heels.

  “How the hell could you do this, Enzo?” he roars, slamming his fist on the doorframe. “What were you thinking, you selfish bastard? How could you put everything at risk? Our businesses, our lives?” I tiptoe closer to the kitchen door and peek my head out to witness the verbal lashing. My heart thumps hard against my ribcage. I’ve never seen my father so angry. I cringe as his scathing words echo throughout the house.

  Enzo’s eyes pool with tears, his voice quaking. “Giacomo, please! I made a mistake, but I can fix it! I swear!”

  “I don’t believe you! What about my wife? My daughter? Did you even give a shit about their safety when you got into bed with those bastards?” His voice cracks. “They’re my entire life!”

  “I’m sorry!” Enzo weeps, sliding down the wall to the floor, his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry!”

  Mama takes a few, tentative steps into the foyer with me right behind her. “Giacomo, what’s wrong? What has happened?”

  Papa pulls Uncle Enzo off the floor and slams him against a wall so he’s facing my mother. “Look at your sister! Do you want to tell her what you’ve done, you lying sonofabitch?”

  Uncle Enzo is full-out sobbing right now. I grip my mother’s shoulder, all of us silent save for the crying. “I never mean to hurt anyone! I swear to you! I love my family!”

  “But that wasn’t enough for you to resist, was it?” Papa screams into Enzo’s terrified face. “Or maybe you just didn’t care because working with them meant more money in your goddamn pocket and that was enough of an incentive for you!” His chest heaves, his voice shaking. “You just killed us, Enzo. You won’t ever be able to scrub your hands clean, you worthless piece of shit! Now get the fuck out of my house!”

  Enzo’s body shudders, his head rocking back and forth. “Please don’t kick me out! You’re all I have left!”

  Papa grabs him by the collar, his teeth clenched. “No, Enzo. You have nothing. And you are nothing.” He unlocks the front door and flings it open, a gust of cold air rushing into the house. “Get out!”

  I wrap an arm around my sobbing mother, my eyes narrowed at Uncle Enzo as he fights against Papa to stay inside.

  “No, no, no! Don’t make me leave! Please!”

  “Why the fuck should I listen to you?” Papa shouts, shutting the door. “Give me one good reason why I should let you stay when I need to prepare my family and get them away from here!”

  “Because it’s too late,” Enzo whispers. “They’re already here, and I’m the only one who can save you!” He blurts out as Papa’s hand closes around his throat.

  An icy sensation winds through my limbs as the dreaded questions explode like bullets between my ears.

  Who’s here?

  And what in the hell can my worthless, two-faced Uncle Enzo possibly save us from?

  Papa slams the door shut, his large form towering over my uncle. “What do you mean, they’re here?”

  “That’s why I came here tonight, Giacomo. To warn you that they’ve just arrived in Rome.”

  “For what reason?” Papa snarls. “What have you done?”

  Uncle Enzo wrings his hands again, and the tension in the air is so thick, I can barely draw in a breath.

  “I to-told them I’d give them access to—”

  A loud banging on the front door startles me from the drama unfolding in front of my eyes, and I jump back with a gasp. “Who is that?”

  Papa turns to me, a look of fear splayed across his angular features. A brief hint of regret flashes in his sorrowful gaze before pointing to the basement door. “I’m so sorry this had to happen, amore.”

  “What?” I ask. “What happened, Papa?”

  The banging on the door becomes more insistent, and Papa shakes his head. “There’s no time! Get downstairs now!” he whisper-shouts. “Lock yourselves in the safe room and don’t come out for anyone, even me, do you understand? Keep the cameras on. You’ll be fine if you have each other.”

  Tears fill my eyes, and I clutch Mama’s arm as I pull open the door. Once more, my gaze tangles with Papa’s tormented one. A gaggle of choked tears lodges in my throat as he rushes toward me and wraps his strong arms tight around my trembling body.

  Like it’s the last hug he’ll ever give me.

  God, please, no.

  I melt into my father’s broad chest, feeling his heartbeat racing against me.

  He’s scared.

  He’s never scared.

  “I love you so much,” he murmurs against my ear.

  “I love you, too, Papa.” I say, my voice cracking. I glare at Uncle Enzo over his shoulder as I squeeze my father tight. He pulls away and kisses me on the forehead. “You need to go. Right now.” He presses his cell phone into my hand and then pulls my mother close, burying his head in her neck, her whimpers mixing with Enzo’s.

  I grit my teeth and stomp toward my uncle, my face presses against his. “If anything happens to him, I will make you pay, you greedy asshole! You’ve had your hand out for too long and you deserve to have it cut off, along with a lot of other parts!”

  Mama grabs my free hand and shakes her head wit
h a final, tearful glance at her worthless brother, a man who has taken so much from us.

  Please don’t let him take any more…

  “Go!” Papa hisses.

  “Why can’t Enzo stay here to deal with whoever is out there? Why do you need to be here?” I grasp my father’s hand, my voice rising in desperation. “Please, Papa. Come with us! Let him handle his own messes! It’s not your job to take care of him anymore!”

  Papa’s hand gently caresses my cheek and he forces a smile. “This is my family, and I need to protect it.”

  I choke back a sob as he pushes me and Mama into the basement stairwell.

  “Be careful!” Mama murmurs just before I close and latch the door behind us. I hear the front door open and we linger on the stairs, listening to deep voices. Too many to count. Lots of heavy footsteps. And then…

  Crash!

  Something hits the floor and shatters. And again. And again.

  I clap a hand over my trembling lips to keep the scream from erupting out of my lungs.

  Please don’t hurt Papa…please don’t hurt Papa!

  “We need to move!” Mama whispers, tiptoeing down the rest of the stairs in pitch blackness.

  “Mama, I can’t see!”

  “Don’t turn on a light. If there are men outside, they’ll see it. Just be careful. It’ll be okay once we get to the safe room.”

  My teeth chatter uncontrollably as we creep closer and closer to the heavy metal door in a hidden corner of the basement. My eyes refuse to adjust to the lack of light, but Mama must have on her night-vision glasses because she navigates the area like a pro.

  I bet she’s done this plenty of times before because of that slimy bastard of a brother she has.

  A chill slithers through me.

  And she’s probably done it by herself plenty.

  Without me.

  I should have been here for her!

  Guilt tears into me, tears streaming down my face. My feet finally hit the landing, and as I scramble to keep up with my mother, I stumble over something in the center of the floor. I trip, landing hard on my knee. The concrete below my feet is cold, but there’s something else…

  Something wet.

  “What the hell—?” I mutter, dragging my fingers around the floor and bringing them to my nose.

  Metal.

  ”What’s wrong?” Mama whispers, a bit ahead of me.

  “There’s something on the floor. I just tripped over it!”

  “It’s probably a laundry bag. Leave it. Andiamo!” she whispers.

  “It’s leaking or something. And it doesn’t feel like laundry. It’s more solid, almost like—” I chew the inside of my mouth. I choke back the words, not wanting to even say it. Without thinking, I click a button to bring Papa’s phone alive, and light shines on exactly what had obstructed my path.

  A bloodcurdling screech flies out of my mouth when my eyes land on Pietro’s lifeless ones.

  “What is it?” Mama yelps, stopping short.

  “It’s…it’s…” My shoulders quake. “Oh my God, Mama!” I fall to the floor, tears coursing down my cheeks. “It’s Pietro!”

  At that moment, light floods the basement, shining on the hanging cuts of pork, barrels of wine, and overflowing shelves of cheese.

  I blink fast, adjusting to the sudden brightness, and I almost wish they didn’t because the very first thing that captures my gaze makes my gut clench and twist.

  A thick black tattoo swirling down the neck of the man who approached me after the concert. He’s dressed all in black, standing right in front of the back door, which is cracked open a slight bit.

  The lock is broken, the door handle hanging off of the heavy metal frame.

  Good God, they ambushed us in every direction.

  That must be how they got Pietro here.

  But I’ll be damned if they drag me out the same way!

  His lips curl into a sinister smirk, his eyes a demonic shade of black. “Do you remember what I told you last night, Julia?” he asks in a low, menacing voice. “When you thanked me for coming?” The man steps toward me, all but ignoring my mother who is quietly freeing the safe room door so we can run inside and hide.

  That is, if I can manage to get away from this psycho.

  My heart screeches to a stop in that second, the one when I realize that I have a second chance to do what I should have done earlier.

  To fight like a hellcat and show this asshole that I’m not some shrinking violet who’s going to crumble in the face of danger.

  I may not have any training.

  I may not have any solid moves.

  But I love my family and I’ll do whatever I need to protect them.

  So come and get it, jerkoff!

  With one eye on my mother, I clench my fists, wracking my brain for self-defense inspiration. He steps closer, no weapon in his hand.

  But he killed Pietro. Sliced his throat from ear to goddamn ear.

  His hands may be free right now, but he’s got a blade somewhere.

  Hand-to-hand combat against a towering hulk of a man is bad enough, but me against a knife?

  I glance at Mama who gives a gentle tug of the door to open it. Her hand shakes, and I can see she’s trying so hard to be quiet.

  He knows she’s here, but for some reason he’s not paying a bit of attention to her.

  His eyes are on me and me alone.

  I swallow hard, knowing my window is closing fast.

  All I need to do is fly past this guy and slam that door shut tight.

  I don’t wait for him to come any closer.

  I can’t.

  I narrow my eyes at him and his eyebrow quirks, almost daring me to make a move.

  He got away once without me making a move to defend myself, but it won’t happen again.

  I glance down at Pietro’s body, his red-stained jacket open.

  His gun lays by his side, close to his hand but not close enough to have saved his life.

  Maybe it can save ours…

  He inches closer still, and with one stealth movement, I grab the gun, point it, and pull the trigger.

  Click.

  No bang.

  Just a fucking click.

  I swallow a scream and pull it again. And again. And—

  He reaches out and tears it from my hand, then uses his other hand to pull a clip from his pocket.

  “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to leave a loaded gun within your reach?” he snarls, reaching out and yanking me by the hair. “I thought we could do this in a civilized way, one in which I let you and your mother live.” He shakes his head, making a tsk-ing sound. “I never wanted to hurt you, bellissima. But now you’ve made me angry.”

  A whimper escapes my lips as he tugs my hair harder. Mama screams as he pushes me against a wall, pressing his chest against mine, the weight of muscle and panic crushing my lungs, silencing my voice.

  I gasp for air, sputtering and coughing as I try in vain to pry his hands from around my neck. White spots dance in front of my eyes and a loud banging follows.

  Someone is trying to get down here — to help us, to kill us is still yet to be determined.

  If I make it long enough to find out.

  My eyes struggle to stay open, and in the depths of my mind, I hear a sadistic chuckle.

  “You managed to escape me last night, but you couldn’t hide forever. I’d find you. I always find you, just like I have for the last six months. And as mad as I am right now, my cock is so fucking hard for you, Julia. I want you to see it. I want to show you what you do to me,” he growls.

  Right before I let the darkness consume me, I see a shadow.

  It’s Mama, and she’s holding something, something that swings out at the man.

  Seconds drag into what feels like hours as the object whizzes through the air and suddenly, he lets me go. I collapse to my knees, clutching my neck, drinking in oxygen so fast, I almost choke again.

  Crack! Pop!

  On
e shot. Two shots.

  And then a loud thump follows.

  My body shudders from the aftershock, my screams piercing the air.

  “Mama! No!”

  The door to the safe room is open the slightest bit, and Mama lies right next to it, the baseball bat on the floor to her right. A large puddle of blood spreads out beneath her still form.

  I want to run to her, to hug her tight, to see if there’s a chance she might still be breathing.

  Instead, I launch myself at the man, clawing at him like a wolverine attacking its prey. I dig my nails into his flesh until I puncture the skin, suddenly realizing that the only reason why he allowed me to tear my nails down the side of his face is because…

  He allowed me to.

  The gun is still in his hand, his finger on the trigger.

  He never once pointed it at me.

  It’s still on Mama.

  I gag on the tears caught in my throat, spewing every expletive on my tongue until he grabs my chin in his hand and brings my face toward his.

  “She’s not dead,” he seethes. “But I’ll make sure she is before I leave this house if you don’t cooperate, do you understand me?”

  The banging on the basement door gets more forceful, but the man under me doesn’t break eye contact.

  “Tell me you understand my condition,” he says again. “I won’t ask you a third time.”

  I nod, my teeth chattering as my mother’s foot twitches.

  She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive!

  “Now back away with your hands above your head,” he orders in a gruff voice, the gun still trained on my mother. “One wrong move and I will shoot her in the head.”

  I struggle to my knees and then straighten slowly, the baseball bat in my periphery.

  Can I?

  Will I?

  “Julia!” Papa’s voice echoes within the cold concrete space, and more pounding reverberates between my temples. “Julia, are you okay?”

  My lips quiver, my mind screaming for his help, but the man kneels next to Mama, pressing the gun to her forehead. “Go ahead. Answer him,” he goads me. “But I will blow her head off, and in the end I’m taking you with me regardless of whether or not your father makes it through that door.”