Coveted: Men of Mayhem: Book Two

by Luciani, Kristen

  Suddenly, my feet are mid-air and my body launches across the overgrown bushes in the front yard like a cannonball shooting out of a chamber. Heat singes my exposed skin as I crash to the hard dirt, the violin still clutched in my hand. I groan, rolling around to make sure I’m clear of any stray flames. Julia and Tommy are a few feet away, sputtering and choking on the heavy cloud of smoke consuming us. Windows shatter, glass shards flying through the air along with pieces of rotting wood.

  ‘Are you guys okay?” I rasp, crawling over to them.

  Julia rolls to a seated position. “Yes,” she whimpers. “Holy cow, we could have been killed! He flooded the place with gas and escaped, the sick fuck!”

  “Christ, Tommy. Don’t you know you never make a call on a cell phone when there’s a damn gas leak?” I demand.

  “Sorry, I must have missed that lesson in Explosives class,” he snaps. “How the hell does anyone even know that?”

  My head falls into my hands. “I don’t know. Reading? It’s how most people learn shit.”

  Tommy collapses back on the ground with a loud groan, his hand on his busted shoulder. “Can we please get me some medical attention now? Or is something else gonna blow up before we can get the hell out of here? And by the way, I’m gonna seriously fuck Alek up next time I see him for getting us into this. Just saying.”

  Julia looks at me as I help Tommy up for the second time, a curious expression on her face. “Alek?”

  “Severinov. He’s my brother-in-law.” I nod my head toward the thicket where I hid the car. “Come on, it’s not too far and we really need to get the hell away from here.”

  “I’ve known Alek for years. He’s always been supportive of our music foundation. We’ve done a lot of work together because of his wife, Myla,” she says as we run across the gravel driveway, Tommy spewing expletives every step of the way. She looks at me when we get to the car, her eyes wide. “I just don’t understand. How did he…who even told him about…everything? And where did you guys come from?” She chokes on a gasp, frozen to the spot even though the passenger side door is open. “My parents…are they…?”

  She wrings her hands, my jacket tugged tight around her. I’ve never seen someone look so lost and hopeless, and all I want to do is take her in my arms, never to let her go, so that she always knows she’ll never have to fear being alone ever again.

  And while it may be something she needs right now, it’s not what she wants.

  At least from me.

  My part is almost over. I saved Graziani’s daughter.

  He wants us to keep her safe until he can figure out a way to handle Fortunato.

  And then I walk away.

  Simple.

  But so fucking complicated because I want exactly what Julia doesn’t.

  I take a deep breath. “Get in.”

  She listens and slides into the car while I lay Tommy into the backseat. I run around to the driver’s side and get in, turning the key in the ignition and gunning the motor. I peel out of the driveway, tires squealing on the pavement as I shift gears and press my foot on the gas.

  “Your father is the one who called Alek,” I say in a low voice. “And because Alek is tied up in Monaco, he called me and my brother, Tommy.”

  “So my father is alive?” she exclaims, clasping her hands to her mouth. “Thank God,” she whispers. “And my mother, is she…?”

  I expel an unsteady breath. “No. She’s gone, Julia. I’m really sorry.”

  A muffled squeal escapes her covered mouth and tears stream down her cheeks. “No, no, no,” she whimpers. “And it was all my fault! He told me not to do it. He warned me not to run, but I did anyway. I was just trying to save us. I never meant…oh God, what have I done?”

  “You can’t blame yourself,” I say as I drive to Doc Milo’s place. “You couldn’t have protected her from Elia Fortunato. If he wanted her dead, he’d have killed her. As far as he was concerned, he needed you and anyone standing in his way was gonna be eliminated. Nobody could have stopped him. This isn’t your fault.”

  I keep to myself the bit about her father making a fucking dumbass mistake by handing the reins to Enzo Tallerico and feeding her and her mother to the wolves as a result.

  “But Papa…he’s still alive. Why?”

  “Because Nic Fortunato, Elia’s father, needs something from him, something only he can provide. That’s why he took you.”

  “He would yell and scream while he was around the house,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck. “He told me how much he hates his father, how he wants to destroy him, that he was just waiting for the right time. He told me he wanted to keep me from his father, that he would hurt me and make me suffer for what my parents did. He never said what that was.” She pauses for a second. “He said his father…Nic…killed his mother and that he deserves to die. But he never told me what he was going to do next.”

  Fucking crackpot. Nic is definitely gonna surface once he finds out Julia is gone. Christ only knows what he’ll do to punish Elia.

  And us for fucking up his plans.

  My throat tightens, the reality of her situation slapping me in the face. “Do you remember anything that happened over the past few days? What he’s…” I swallow hard. “…done to you?

  Julia sniffles, wiping her eyes with the corner of my jacket. “Elia said he never raped me. That he would never hurt me like that.” she says in a small, tearful voice. “But he’s been drugging me. And when the drugs wear off, I’m barely lucid before he shoots me up again to keep me from trying to escape. Except tonight. He kept talking about wanting me to…to submit, to accept him, and to love him,” she says, her trembling voice barely above a whisper. “I fought him as much as I could. I wanted him to suffer just like…just like…” Her voice cracks and the tears start fresh, her body trembling with grief. “Oh God! I can’t believe this happened! I can’t believe she’s really gone!”

  I reach out and grasp her hand, a tightness in my chest.

  “We’re gonna take care of you, Julia,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even although there’s a ball of rage at the back of my throat, threatening to choke me.

  Or unleash me.

  I’d prefer the latter.

  And when that happens, Elia, watch the fuck out because I’m coming for you.

  I’m coming for everything.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julia

  I stare out the car window as the house of death and depravity burns to the ground behind us. Flames shoot out from the shattered windows, large pieces of wood crashing to the ground as it incinerates.

  Coldness sets deep into my bones as we drive farther and farther away from the smoldering, horrific mess. My insides chill to the point of numbness despite the fact that the heat blasts me from all directions.

  My mother is dead.

  My father is in serious danger.

  And I am being hunted by a vindictive monster named Elia who wants to use me against his deranged father and the one parent I have left.

  I lean my head back against the seat, my eyes focused on the dark road ahead of us. Lights twinkle in the distance, and I know that is the city upon us. Mama always loved our special nights out in the city. She had her favorite places to visit, the theater, restaurants where the staff knew us by name. She was always treated like the queen she was.

  An icy sensation slithers around my heart and squeezes.

  The royal treatment was all because of Papa — who he is, what he does, and his influence. He had a lot of friends who always made sure he and his family were taken care of.

  And he had even more enemies who made sure of the same thing.

  I clench my fists. I don’t want to have these thoughts about the one parent I have left. We all knew the risks of being a Graziani.

  I just never thought the risks would ever materialize.

  “Papa warned me about this,” I say to the air. “He told me it was a bad idea for me to do so much traveling, that I’d attract
attention from people he had always tried to protect me against. I’m the reason why I got caught in this crossfire.” A shuddering sigh leaves me feeling even more empty and hollowed out than I was in the scattered moments of lucidity when I thought my life really was over.

  The words hang in the air, waiting for some acknowledgement until Antonio clears his throat.

  “Julia, you could have been locked in an ivory tower and the people your dad works against…people we work against…would always find a way to get to you. The key is being able to cut them off at the knees before they make it to the top.”

  “My uncle Enzo was at the house the night I was taken.” My memories are fuzzy at best, but I recall spewing some harsh words at him for some unknown reason. “Papa was angry as hell and Mama was upset…all because of something Enzo did.”

  “Yeah,” Antonio growls. “I know.”

  “Do you know what happened?” I turn my head to look at him. “I have to know. I want to understand. I feel so helpless right now. I feel like there are so many things going on around me and I only know bits and pieces. Please help me put them together,” I whisper. “I can’t do anything to stop what’s coming next and I don’t even know how I ended up here in the first place. I need to know everything.”

  Then Tommy lets out a groan in the backseat. “Guys, I don’t wanna interrupt, but are we there yet?” he says, his voice thick. “I think I’m almost outta blood.”

  “Soon,” Antonio replies in a clipped voice. “And relax, you’re fine. Go back to sleep.”

  “Okay, Doc,” he says in a sleepy tone.

  “I’m sorry to be the one telling you this,” Antonio murmurs, taking a sharp left turn down a dimly lit street on the outskirts of the city. “Enzo got mixed up with Nic Fortunato and he used his position as the chief financial officer of your foundation to launder money for him. But Enzo did more than that. He skimmed and stole from Nic. That’s why Elia came for you. He was commissioned by Nic to get his money back and Nic wants your father to lead them to it, using you as leverage.”

  I gasp. “Oh my God. Money laundering? Our charity foundation is tainted with dirty money?”

  Antonio pulls over to the side of the road in the quiet neighborhood, right in front of a modest white house with black shutters. “Julia, I hate to break it to you, but if your foundation was funded by any of your father’s associates, it was pretty much built on dirty money.”

  I lean forward with my head in my hands, my stomach clenched. Chills zip through me, shooting down my arms and legs. “It was the best thing I’d ever done,” I murmur. “I was so proud of it, of all the good it did for kids who had no hope or opportunity.”

  “There’s no reason why that should change,” he says, draping an arm over my shoulders. “The money doesn’t change the good you’ve done.”

  “The world runs-s on dirty money, s-sweetheart,” Tommy slurs. “At least you used it to help people.”

  Antonio nods. “The guy’s got really shitty timing, but he’s right.”

  “Time,” Tommy mutters. “I’m running out of it, bro. Are we going in or am I gonna bleed out back here?”

  Antonio rolls his eyes at me and pushes open his door. I take a few tentative steps onto the sidewalk, my eyes darting left and right. A shiver runs through me and I clutch the bedsheet tight. Bits of gravel scratch the bottom of my feet as I back toward the house, but I barely feel the pain. It’s nothing compared to having your heart shredded, stomped on, and stuffed back into your chest.

  Antonio comes around and opens the back door, lifting Tommy out. A dark puddle stains the seat and the floor under him. Tommy leans against him, woozy and swaying. “I hate you, Ant,” he grumbles. “You shot me. And you almost killed me. Payback is a bitch. Just remember that.”

  Antonio grunts as he lifts Tommy and walks him to the front door with me right by his other side. He knocks twice and a moment later, the door opens. A short, hefty man with white hair and glasses hustles us inside.

  “Tommaso, what happened?” he exclaims once we’re in the foyer.

  “Ant shot me,” he mumbles.

  “Stop saying that or I’m gonna drop you,” Antonio hisses. He looks down at the man who is at least five inches shorter than him. “Doc, he took a bullet to the shoulder. It was clean, though. There’s an exit wound.”

  The man chuckles as he examines the wound. “Nice handiwork.”

  “Can ya patch me back up so I survive the night?” Tommy moans.

  “Always so dramatic,” the man says. “You’re going to be just fine. Let’s get you into surgery.”

  I furrow my brow at Antonio and he shrugs. “We can’t exactly waltz into a hospital emergency room with a bullet wound and not attract the polizia. So we have our own brand of, ah, healthcare facilities.” He winks at me.

  “And who is this?” the man asks, his bright blue eyes now focused on me.

  “This is Julia,” Antonio says.

  “Once we get Tommaso into his room, I will find you some clothes. Seems like you’ve all had quite a night, yes?”

  “Thank you.” I nod, a tight smile on my face. Quite a night. An understatement since it doesn’t seem like we’re even close to escaping hell. Who’s to say tomorrow will be any better?

  We follow the white-haired man to a room off of the kitchen, and he and Antonio settle Tommy onto a gurney. I look around. It’s not just a simple doctor’s office. Screens and monitors and bleeping machines line the perimeter. And it looks as though he is ready to perform surgery at a moment’s notice, which, considering his clientele, is understandable.

  Once Tommy is settled, the man looks at me, a curious look on his face. “You look so familiar,” he murmurs. “How would I know you? Do you live in the area?”

  “I do,” I say. “I’m a musician.”

  “That’s how I know you! You’re Julia Loren, the violinist! Even more beautiful in person,” the man says, brushing my hand against his lips. “It is my honor.”

  I force a smile. I usually love meeting fans, but since my life is upside down, I’m finding it hard to be gracious right this second.

  “Julia was being held not too far from here,” Antonio explains. “By Elia Fortunato. We managed to get her out, but she’s been drugged. Possibly assaulted. Can you check her out, too?”

  “So I see. That crazy bastard. How has nobody killed him yet?” Doc grimaces, staring at the bruise on my face.

  “I tried, but—”

  “But his aim sucks!” Tommy shouts from the exam room. “Unless he’s shooting at his brother, then it’s spot-fucking on!”

  I look at Antonio and he smiles at me. “It’s going to be okay,” he mouths.

  “Give me a second and I will prepare a second room.” The doctor disappears around a corner, and Antonio snakes an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close.

  ”Thank you,” I say. “For saving my life. And my violin. I can’t believe you kept a hold of it when we got blown up.”

  Antonio grins. “I remember how crazy you are about it.”

  I smile, recalling our first meeting at the airport lounge, how close I’d come to taking his head off when I thought he snatched it. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Here we go,” Doc Milo returns, his bright blue eyes crinkling in the corners as he hands me a large t-shirt and sweatpants. “These will swim on you, but at least you’ll be comfortable. And dressed in more than just a bedsheet, from the looks of it,” he says peering at my ensemble. “Let me check on Tommy, and once he is sedated, I’ll patch him up.” He points to the living room. “You two can have a seat in there while I work.”

  Antonio slides an arm around my shoulders and walks me over toward the couch. I sink onto the plush velour cushion and lean my head back with a sigh, tears stinging my eyes.

  “How do you feel?” he asks, staring at me with a look of concern etched into his features.

  “I’m a mess,” I whisper, covering my face with my hands, a growing lump in my throat choking m
e more and more with each passing second. “I was kidnapped and drugged, barely conscious enough to grieve the loss of my mother. My best friend,” I weep, dropping my head into my lap. Waves of nausea crash over me, and I clutch my stomach. Beads of perspiration pop up along the back of my neck. “I need to…I have to…” I clap a hand over my mouth and dart off of the couch into a room off of the living room that I pray is a bathroom. I push open the door and collapse in front of the toilet bowl as my stomach revolts against me…once, twice, three times. Antonio drops to his knees next to me, rubbing my back and holding my hair. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t try to force-feed me any bullshit comforting speak since there’s none that can give me any peace right now.

  When the torture finally ends and my body is still, I lean back against Antonio. I take a few deep breaths as he hands me some tissues. I wipe my mouth and flush the toilet, now absolutely certain that I am as empty on the inside as I feel.

  “Is that better?” he asks.

  “It’s hard to believe that I’ll ever be able to say I’m better,” I mutter.

  “You will say it,” he says, helping me up. “It doesn’t seem that way now, but things will get easier. I know how it feels, believing you could have stopped something that was never really in your control.” He stares at me. “You have to believe me when I say that. Don’t blame yourself for what happened to your mother. If it didn’t happen the other night, it would have happened at another time. And he was going to take you, one way or another. Nobody was going to stop him, Julia. Not you, not your father. Nobody.”

  I bury my head against his chest, my body racked with grief. “I never even got to say goodbye,” I cry. “I never got to touch her hand, to kiss her, to tell her how much I love her that one last time.”

  He strokes the back of my head as my body quivers against him. “I know,” he whispers. “Just let it go, Julia. It’s okay. Let it all go.”

  So I do. I scream and wail and weep for my mother, and Antonio holds me tight the whole time. He doesn’t interrupt. He just lets me grieve.